"My lord." Albert's wrinkled face contorted into a knot. "You mean… You want us to live together with those mutants?"
Fulgrim said, "The shelter has ample food reserves, enough to meet everyone's needs. Moreover, you will be assigned to different levels. You might never even cross paths in your lifetime."
Sanguinius nodded, "Mutants are human too. Like you, they are victims of radiation. Mutation was never their choice; they were simply tortured more deeply."
"B-but…" Albert's voice trembled uncontrollably. "Those mon-… those mutants slaughtered our ancestors and seized our homeland."
Caelan gazed steadily at Albert's stunned expression. "The shelter also has records of that history. It wasn't a seizure; it was a civil war."
"The mutants won and gained control of the shelter. Your ancestors were the exiled, defeated side. The vehicles, rad-suits, and radiation meters you use now were all taken from the shelter during that exodus."
Whether it was The Bloods or the Mutants, their historical records were written from their respective perspectives.
In the eyes of the purebloods, they were the ones who took in the mutants, yet the mutants turned on their hosts and exiled them. If that wasn't ussurpation, what was?
The Mutants' recorded history also carried narrative bias. When recording, they inevitably embellished and glossed over events, such as deliberately emphasizing the their mercy while downplaying the plundering and harm inflicted on the normal humans during the exile.
Whatever truly happened was now impossible to determine, obscured by the mists of time. But one fact was clear: the shelter experienced a civil war, not an external invasion.
The mutants could never have broken into a Golden Age shelter from the outside, and Dr. Iven's gene vaccine had indeed been genuine.
So Caelan tried to narrate the matter as neutrally as possible.
The revelation shook Albert so badly that he staggered. The Angels had no reason to deceive him… yet how could the thousand-year history passed down by his people be false?
"Then… who was wrong?" Albert asked, lost.
"History has no right or wrong," Sanguinius said softly, his childlike voice carrying wisdom beyond his age. "Your ancestors simply made different choices for survival. Don't let prejudice blind your eyes. There's no need to cling to the past any longer."
Sanguinius and Fulgrim spread their pure white wings simultaneously, soft halos refracting in the crimson light.
"The night will pass... and we will bring Baal a new dawn!"
In truth, the purebloods had little choice.
If they remained on Baal Secundus's wasteland, they would either die from radiation… or be twisted into mutants.
Compromise was the optimal solution.
.....
The Bloods' vehicle convoy rattled across the desolate wastes. Rusted frames groaned with every jolt, and their passengers were equally uneasy.
For mo one knew what awaited them. Predators prowled the desert, watching them hungrily.
But whenever the shadow of a blood hawk swept across the crimson sky, or the thunderous sound of a Baal Fire Scorpion erupting from beneath a sand dune echoed, the angels would unfurl their immaculate white wings, tearing apart the hawls with lightning speed and smashing the scorpions to pieces with small fists.
Each time, hope rekindled in The Bloods' eyes.
The angels were still protecting them!
Whatever lay ahead, the angels would not harm them.
Wasn't that enough?
Boom.
The convoy slowly entered the Crimson Canyon. he massive metal doors ground open with a heavy rumble, revealing the internal metallic corridors.
The Bloods involuntarily held their breath, eyes wide as they beheld the scene beyond imagination.
Smooth, mirror-like metal walls were embedded with lumen lights, illuminating the entire passageway bright as day.
Elevators glowed with a pale blue aura, the same color as the divine power used by their god.
Guided by the angels, the convoy cautiously drove into a colossal lift. As it descended, fear and anxiety filled every face.
But the elevator operated with steady smoothness, finally halting at Level 71.
The moment they stepped out, they were completely stunned.
A spacious, brightly lit corridor stretched before them, lined with neatly arranged metal doors on both sides. The floor was paved with anti-slip composite material, and elegantly shaped lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling.
Through some open doorways, they could see exquisitely crafted furniture inside.
Fulgrim floated to the corridor's center, his childish voice filled with authority:
"This entire level is assigned to your tribe. Each family may choose one room. Karin will register them; no one is allowed to take more than their share!"
"You are free to explore, but damaging any property is strictly prohibited. The cafeteria is located in the central area of this level. Meal times are at standard hours 7-9, 11-13, and 17-19 daily. You may take what you need, but hoarding or wasting food is forbidden!"
"As long as you follow the rules, you will never go hungry or face wilderness dangers again!"
The Bloods nodded reverently. Complex emotions flickered in Chief Albert's eyes.
He never imagined he would truly return to the shelter his ancestors once lived in.
Those stories passed down orally, those legends regarded as myths, had now become a tangible reality within reach.
Caelan gazed, shifted, "Chief Albert, come with us."
They re-entered the elevator and descended.
"My lord…" Albert voice trembled slightly, "how many… people live here?"
The Bloods had never seen the shelter and had no idea of its scale before coming here.
They had originally thought there were at most a few thousand mutants here. Only now did they realize how naive that assumption had been.
Caelan answered, "Three hundred thousand."
Albert's throat tightened. They numbered only over two hundred. Three hundred thousand was over a thousand times more than theirs!
If the mutants meant harm, how could they resist?
The elevator doors slid open silently. A mutant with asymmetrical dual heads stood before him.
Though the mutant forced a friendly smile, Albert still trembled.
The mutant extended his hand. "Hello, Chief. I am Iven, leader of the mutants. Under our lord's guidance, I hope we can make amends for our ancestors' mistakes together."
He spoke the word mutant calmly, without shame.
Albert looked between the god and the angels. Their silent approval prompted Albert to also extend a trembling hand, his voice hoarse:
"H-hello. I am Albert… chief of the Bloods."
Under the angels' gaze, their hands clasped firmly.
It could not erase centuries of hatred overnight, but it at least planted a seed of hope for reconciliation between the two peoples.
.....
"Dr. Iven truly was a remarkable genius."
Sanguinius lay over the research notes he'd left behind, genuine admiration in his voice.
Fulgrim skimmed the shelves, carefully carrying a thick tome back to the table.
Two months had passed since the Bloods moved in.
Ever since, the brothers had immersed themselves in the library, eagerly absorbing nourishment from knowledge like thirsty sponges.
Primarchs are born knowing, but not omniscient.
They needed to learn and master the maintenance technology of the shelter's ecosystem to ensure this sanctuary could continue functioning.
They also needed to study Dr. Iven's genetic experiment to complete his unfinished work.
They were Primarchs. Baal was their homeworld. They possessed innate power and talent.
They would not fail those who placed their faith and hopes in them, the people of Baal.
Caelan gently pushed open the library door, his gaze falling upon the two small figures at the desk. "You guys are studying again? Take a break."
Hearing their father's voice, the two brothers looked up simultaneously.
Sanguinius asked softly, "Dad, has the inspection been completed?"
"Yes. No traces of corruption. The shelter is safe."
The shelter was a vertical underground city with 490 floors:
The shelter was a vertical subterranean city with 490 levels.
Levels 001-010 were the preparation zone, where exploration vehicles and equipment left from the Golden Age were neatly stored.
Levels 011-310 were residential zones, each designed to accommodate 20,000 residents.
Levels 311-430 were ecological zones. Hydroponic farms and ecological pastures provided ample food for the entire shelter.
Levels 431-490 were administrative zones, the core area sustaining the entire shelter's operation.
Here resided a miniature artificial sun and the reactor containing it, powering the entire shelter.
Caelan had conducted meticulous, inch-by-inch investigations of every level, every corner, every resident of the shelter.
Although the shelter residents' appearances were bizarrely varied, these deformities stemmed from normal genetic mutation, not warp corruption.
Even though the most dangerous corruption often begins in the mind, those subtle cognitive biases, quietly foster paranoid thoughts are often hardly known to outsiders, making them hard to guard against.
But by establishing strict risk control mechanisms, the threat could be minimized.
"Perhaps the greatest danger lies hidden within their genes," Sanguinius gently flipped the research notes to a key page. "Dad, look here."
It was Dr. Iven's gene-regulation log.
[Experiment Log - Directed Gene Dominance Project]
[Date: Day 3871]
[Recorder: Dr. Iven]
[Phase: Phase III Clinical Verification]
[Subject: Volunteer 5123 (Adult male Mutant, Gene Mutation Type: Type III Asymmetric Craniofacial Hyperplasia)]
[Objective: Verify the regulatory efficacy of the Gene Lock-Chain Theory in targeted dominance]
[Results: By targeted activation of gene cluster successfully suppressed the, mediated abnormal cranial proliferation. The induced expression of protein significantly improved limb morphology symmetry. Epigenetic modifications rendered the variable traits heritable. Mutation control success rate reached 99.9%.]
[Note: Based on long-term observation and gene sequencing of Volunteer 5123, the experimental results have sufficiently verified my theoretical hypothesis. Human genetic mutations, while irreversible, can achieve stable expression through targeted regulation.]
[This is not my original creation. Gene clusters are prevalent throughout the genes of all humanity. As early as the Golden Age, they were designed and implanted into the human genome. I am merely replicating the successful experiences of our predecessors.]
[If I can further perfect the experiment, Mutants will complete the qualitative leap from random mutation to directed evolution!]
...
[Date: Day 4012]
[Note: The genetic mutation of Volunteer 5973 has been stably guided via gene cluster . All redundant limb tissues have completed autonomous apoptosis, with no significant rejection reaction observed. Her awakening was much faster than projected, perhaps related to her unique gene sequence. I have given her a new name: Eve.]
...
[Date: Day 4145]
[Note: The psychic talent displayed by Volunteer 5973 is astonishing, able to accurately predict events on Baal 4,900 years later. But why is my name not known on Baal? I care not for fame or glory, but does this mean my experiment failed? This is truly unsettling.]
...
[Date: Day 4439]
[Note: Eve's successful case, upon repeated verification, does not possess universal applicability. Current experimental data indicates significant deviation in the targeted mutation of gene cluster, making stable conversion of mutants into New Humans impossible. I need to reassess my gene editing strategy.]
...
[Date: Day 4732]
[Note: I have succeeded! Volunteer Eve, she will be the beginning of the New Humans.]
...
[Date: Day 4751]
[Note: Eve abruptly suspended all supporting work today and forcibly shut down Cultivation Chamber 66. During subsequen dispute, she exhibited abnormal anxiety and resistance. Perhaps she prophesied some catastrophic event related to the experimental Process, but she refused to disclose details.]
[This makes me hesitate whether to terminate the trials. But my experiment can not only save our Mutant brethren on Baal; the process of human ascension would be accelerated by ten thousand years! All humanity across the galaxy would benefit!]
...
[Date: Day 4953]
[Note: All monitoring data indicate Volunteer 6666 is stably transforming into a New Human. Eve's prophecy contains fundamental misjudgment; the disaster has not occurred. My experiment can save Baal, save all humanity!]
...
[Date: Day 4979]
[Note: Volunteer 6666 confirmed deceased today. Cause of death unknown. However, the temperature at the scene had noticeably dropped. I know Eve did it. She is the only New Human, but 6666 was more perfect than her. So, jealousy truly can drive one to such terrifying acts?]
...
[Date: Day 4981]
[Note: Eve has gone mad. She destroyed my experimental data and killed all volunteers. My experiment is ruined. The semi-finished gene serum cannot save the people of Baal. It's all over.]
...
"New humanity…" Caelan murmured to himself.
'Dr. Iven's research direction was highly aligned with humanity's evolutionary path.'
'Humanity was destined to ascend into a psychic race. Psychic awakening was an irreversible evolutionary trend.'
'Dr. Iven attempted to use gene regulation technology to transform psychic potential into heritable, stable traits. In essence, he was accelerating human evolution.'
But the countless lessons from the Age of Strife taught Caelan that premature human evolution only invites destruction. Many glorious human colonies perished precisely this way.
Dr. Iven was too idealistic. He believed that by transforming all humanity through gene regulation technology, he could accelerate human ascension.
But without the protection of a 'god,' premature human ascension would only lead to ruin.
If even a single individual's body was possessed by a Warp daemon, the entire world could be destroyed.
Caelan found himself more sympathetic towards Eve. She prophesied that the birth of an enormous catastrophe would destroy Baal, so she began sabotaging Dr. Iven's plans.
A complex emotion flickered in Sanguinius's eyes. "The one who ultimately assassinated Dr. Iven was also Eve. I found her name in the encrypted files of the database. Dr. Iven's research direction was correct, but his research was too... progressive. Neither he nor I could control it."
Both Dr. Iven and Eve were martyrs, both saviors of civilization. It was simply their misfortune to be born in the wrong era.
In the process of psychic awakening, unknown risks are always the most terrifying.
Dr. Iven himself admitted that Eve's success was non-replicable. Perhaps Eve chose to kill the other precisely because she saw in her prophecy that they would destroy the shelter, perhaps even Baal.
Humanity will eventually ascend into a psychic race. But even the Emperor did not seek to accelerate this process; rather, he felt the time he had was too short.
Sanguinius would certainly not actively interfere with human evolution. The uncontrollable risks involved were far too great.
Fulgrim asked softly, "Brother… will you abandon the research?"
"I won't continue the 'new humanity' plan. But his early work on stabilizing mutation and curing mutants is valuable. Combining them may create a stable abhuman strain."
Fulgrim clenched his fist. "Then do it! Dad and I will help you!"
"Thank you, brother! You're the best, I like you the most!" Sanguinius smiled sweetly and leaned affectionately against him.
Fulgrim's ears reddened, but he puffed his chest proudly.
Caelan couldn't help but chuckle.
Sanguinius winked at him slyly, a flicker of mischief in his eyes.
He knew exactly how lovable he was, and he never hesitated to use it.
'Little Fulgrim… completely handled.'
.....
15 chapter ahead in [email protected]/DaoistJinzu