Warhammer: Start with a dog

The joint infiltration of the two Primarchs (their souls) was not bad. The other four members of the boarding team, who made a lot of noise and maintained their positions tenaciously, did a great job although it was the first time they acted as "open blades". The Iron Hands had successfully attracted the attention and firepower of most of the existence here for the secret infiltration of the Emperor's Children Primarch (their souls).

However, the atmosphere on this ship was still too much like a lunatic asylum run by a madman. Any creature with emotions and reason would feel that a mixed smell with the smell of chemicals was floating in every corridor and every pipe, and there were constant groans, curses and screams coming from distant places that could not be clearly distinguished.

He turned the last corner, and the temperature of the stone slab under his feet had dropped to three degrees, and the air became colder.

The last laboratory was almost there.

The hidden blade would soon find its long-awaited prey.

——————

The emitters of these sounds echoing in the material and non-material space of this ship included but were not limited to humans or anything else that could make sounds.

Along the way, Fulgrim and his chirping friends heard many languages ​​of creatures they had exterminated or not exterminated completely, various human accents, dialects, variant Gothic, and more horrifying sounds of manual or automatic surgical tools, the hissing pressure and pump operation of drugs or pumping out something, the grumbling of strange artificial creatures and the whispers that no one understood.

As they cautiously approached the last target location, the temperature in the cabin became close to zero degrees, and the milky white flowing cold mist filled the ankles and slowly slid away as they moved forward.

The coldness condensed into a thin mist and frost on the silver metal skin and armor surface, so that an inexplicable sense of uneasiness began to emerge in the heart of the fearless Phoenix, which had been polished by pain and perseverance like a perfectly cut sapphire, just like the boundary between the sunset and the morning light in a piece of the best lotus sapphire.

Therefore, as he moved forward, he had to start to distract his eyes more to the details of the environment around him to help himself distract from this haze.

As they began to step into the last and largest secret Apothecary laboratory, he immediately noticed more things he would rather not notice.

"What is that? ... What are those?! They - our -" The Fearless Phoenix's lips trembled.

"Gorgon!! And what is that! That traitor! That bastard! What did he do to you!!!!" The Pure One's soul screamed in their shared neural data link, and almost shouted with his beautiful metal lips, but Garuda calmly physically sealed Fulgrim Ishtar's lips - after all, the living metal body he now used was still mainly provided and operated by Garuda.

"- It's okay, that's not me. Fulgrim. That's not me. I'm here." Garuda emphasized a repeated pulse, "'I'm' here."

But the Fearless Phoenix was still boiling with the horror he saw, and his biochemical data began to show sharp curves at an angle, and Garuda had to use some more coercive means to appease him.

"Sorry." Once he calmed down, Fulgrim recovered in a blink of an eye. After all, he had some experience of being tortured in Comoros. He was shaken more because of the discomfort of encountering "those" things again in this place - mainly more... twisted copies of one of them. "I didn't expect to see..."

"-It doesn't matter. My friend. I can stay calm not because I don't have anger, but because my anger is flowing back to my heart and becoming a blazing furnace core. It will give me greater and stronger power in the next battle to destroy the person who ignited the anger."

"You are right, my friend, strong emotions should be the driving force of our body's actions, not the destroyer."

"-I am glad that we have reached a consensus, my friend."

So they looked again at the antechamber outside the core of the laboratory under the cover of the pipe above the door.

The clone tanks arranged on both sides of this obviously wider antechamber are particularly tall, densely packed and uneven, like shrines on some ancient pilgrimage roads, and like holy columns in the ruins of an ancient church.

In those translucent, dark nutrient gels, there were sad and poor replicas of many brothers they knew, many of whom were pale, uncoordinated, or even had twisted, overgrown flesh and deformed limbs, but it was obvious that many of them were just corpses or biological specimens, and keeping them fresh was no different from the nature of a biologist storing biological experimental materials needed for the next or the next time in his many freezers.

But this was not beyond the cognition of the Fearless Phoenix. After all, he had seen the blasphemous works made by Fabius Bile in his own universe - the cloning of the Horus army was an unprecedented terror and spread to plague the galaxy for many centuries and many worlds afterwards -

The content displayed in the culture tank here made him most angry and uncontrollable -

Among them were many embryos, infants, children, teenagers, and young adults—

Almost all stages of a person's life were presented in a series of cloning tanks, except that all clones were only up to a certain age.

They all had black hair, white skin, and other common features.

They were all copies of Ferrus Manus.

"What a madman," Fulgrim Ishtar couldn't help muttering to himself as he clenched his Chabal saber, which burned with platinum flames and black lightning, and stepped on the ground to walk through the antechamber filled with the smell of disinfectant and flesh, pushing aside the cables hanging from the ceiling and the "cocoons" that were raised in the flesh that had been peeled off the black shell like fruits. "What kind of goal or interest can drive him to do such a thing. Why did he copy so many of you, my friend?"

Just as Garuda was silent.

Fulgrim Ishtar's feet finally stepped on the floor of the "reception room" where the chief pharmacist had been waiting for a long time.

Now both sides saw each other clearly.

Then, for the first time in decades, an expression of losing control as if seeing a ghost appeared on Fabius Bile's pale and haggard face.

The pharmacists beside him were not much better than their master.

"What is it...?!"