Ficool

Chapter 43 - Chapter 43: So Horrible!

Chapter 43: So Horrible!

The laboratory door slowly opened, releasing a chilling aura into the corridor. Pale fluorescent lights illuminated everything within, casting harsh shadows across the workspace. The air carried an indescribable mixed scent, disinfectant, chemical reagents, and something distinctly biological that defied easy categorization.

Inside, towering bioreactors stood like giant glass coffins, each cultivating bizarre organisms. Some emitted a faint blue glow that pulsed rhythmically. Others possessed tentacles that swayed slowly in the liquid, as if reaching for something beyond their confinement. In the corner, gene sequencers and analyzers blinked with red indicator lights, processing data continuously.

Francis was examining one of the reactors when Leman Russ's voice crackled through the Starseer. "Francis, where are you going? We're already fighting here. Aren't you coming?"

"Sigh, haven't I been terribly screwed over by you!" Francis replied. "I'm escaping for my life. You all always have tens of thousands of Astartes at any given moment, but my Soul Drinkers don't have that many, and my heart can't bear to lose them."

Leman Russ's old face flushed with embarrassment on the other end. "I don't know why. I just can't remember."

"I'll come find you in a while," Francis said. "I've already sabotaged all their warships, so now it should be easy for the old man to deal with Horus. Just don't let them get desperate and break his spine."

"...Now is a critical moment. I can't get away," Leman Russ responded.

"Oh! No wonder daemons invaded just now. So the old man was busy with something else and didn't protect my warships."

From his position on the battlefield, Leman Russ could clearly feel a constant cold sensation emanating from the Terra Palace behind him. It was paradoxical—the more he basked in the sun, the colder he felt.

He swallowed hard. "Francis, if you have complaints, you can voice them. Just remember, if you speak ill of Father behind his back like this, he can hear you."

Francis became even more defiant at the warning. "Am I afraid of him hearing? Even if the old man speaks to me personally, I'll still say this! I was undercover in enemy territory. How dangerous was that! And then you guys just exposed me! Luckily I wasn't caught, otherwise I would have returned to the old man's embrace long ago."

Francis was clearly very dissatisfied with the exposure, which had disrupted his original plans.

"...Let's talk about serious matters," Leman Russ said, changing the subject. "Did you do something that enraged Horus? Manus said Perturabo and he withdrew halfway through their fight, apparently receiving orders from Horus to hunt you down."

Francis's expression turned shocked. "Are they sick? Why aren't they attacking Terra, but coming to hunt me? I'm not the Emperor! If they're going to fight, they should fight the Emperor. Why fight me?"

Leman Russ "..."

Not long after, the communication ended. Francis fell into deep thought, considering his next moves.

"Cough cough, Primarch, if we don't stop, the contents inside will become inactive," Fabius said, coughing lightly to regain his attention.

Francis turned to regard the Apothecary. Fabius's body showed clear signs of genetic defects and incomplete modification. His face appeared pale and sickly, possibly from prolonged exposure to laboratory radiation and chemicals. Deep wrinkles were etched into his features, making him look older than he should.

His build was not robust, yet his muscles appeared abnormally developed and twisted, covered with various scars and surgical marks. The surgical tools mounted on his back swayed gently with his movements, as if they possessed a life of their own.

Hiss.

The culture chamber door opened. As the mist cleared, a piece of pale flesh appeared inside, pulsing continuously with disturbing vitality.

"Don't worry, it's an experiment," Francis said casually. "It often fluctuates between success and failure. At worst, we'll just do it again. It's not like we don't have the resources."

Fabius gave a wry smile and said nothing, but his eyes fixated on the culture chamber with fervent intensity. Xenogeneic genetic modification experiments were restricted in the Imperium, and he couldn't even identify what creature's genes these were—which only made them more fascinating.

"Old man, are you looking for a method of immortality?" Francis asked, studying him. "I see your body probably won't last much longer."

Fabius turned his head and chuckled darkly. "Hehe, I can't help it. I can't compare to Lord Primarch. My body has congenital genetic deficiencies, so I really won't live much longer. I do want to live longer."

The moment he turned back—bang!

The creature in the culture chamber immediately lunged at the glass in front of him, startling Fabius badly. Rather than lunging at Fabius, though, it seemed to lunge at Francis, which puzzled him. This was something created using his own genes.

Francis had extracted some encrypted gene sequences from his own genome and then randomly generated this organism. As he moved to retrieve it himself, Fabius stopped him with an outstretched hand. "This won't do. It's too dangerous. We don't know its characteristics yet. Rashly operating it at this time will lead to an experimental accident!"

Francis gave him a strange look. "So?"

"So, let me do it! I'm not afraid of danger! Hehe," Fabius said, staring at the flesh like a man obsessed, practically wanting to press his face against it.

Hiss.

The glass cover opened, and Fabius immediately pounced. The creature squeezed out from under him like fluid, flowing past his grasping hands. Then it lunged directly onto Francis, sticking to his arm with a soft, wet sound.

"Primarch, how can you be so careless! This is too dangerous! Let me remove it quickly!" Fabius exclaimed, grabbing at the flesh.

"Whew, how is it so tough! I can't pull it off," he said, straining hard. A faint blush appeared on his gaunt face from the exertion, and even the two mechanical arms behind him wanted to join the effort. However, the moment they approached the flesh, they recoiled sharply.

"My mechanical arms have machine spirits?" Fabius said in surprise, quickly letting go. He hadn't thought the mechanical arms on his body could possess machine spirits. Would they suddenly rebel against him one day?

Meanwhile, Francis tried to accept the piece of flesh rather than fight it. Soon the organism on his arm began transforming into any shape he desired, responding to his thoughts alone. When he reached for a meltagun nearby, the flesh actually absorbed the weapon into itself. At the same time, the word "Rangdan" appeared unbidden in his memory.

"Ah! Ah! Can gene technology even integrate inorganic matter? What creature's genes are these? How do I not know!" Fabius exclaimed, his eyes widening in wonder. He circled Francis's arm continuously, muttering under his breath in disbelief.

"This makes no sense? This isn't scientific? I've never heard of any creature having this technology? If there was, how would I not know? Could it be an extremely rare mutation? Hiss hiss hiss, that's not right either."

"Primarch, how did you do it?" Fabius finally asked directly.

Francis, who had just come back to his senses from the flood of genetic information, was equally full of questions. Under his conscious control, the mechanical part on his arm could continuously shift forms. From a gun to a sword, then from a sword to a hammer, from a hammer to a rice cooker, and even from a rice cooker to a prosthetic limb.

Francis stared at his arm in bewilderment.

Fabius stared back in amazement.

The Master and the Student stared at each other.

"Cough, cough, cough, you still have a long way to go on the path of gene technology. Do you understand?" Francis finally said, seizing the opportunity to maintain his mystique.

Francis's words struck Fabius like lightning. His body trembled continuously. He had thought himself a pioneer of Imperial gene technology, but he never expected this! Never expected it! He had only just stepped through the threshold of this field of study.

"Primarch! I'll follow you from now on!" Fabius said, so excited he could barely speak, finally managing to squeeze out that one sentence.

Francis turned and walked out of the laboratory, leaving what he hoped was a cool silhouette as he spoke. "Learn slowly. We will recreate the technology of the Dark Age!"

"You're absolutely right! Reforge the light of dark technology!" Fabius called after him, his excitement reaching a fever pitch.

Hiss.

As the door closed behind him, Francis returned to his private quarters. Once alone, his confident facade cracked. "Hiss hiss hiss, this is really not right! Is this something I could have made?!"

The organism was very dependent on him. Although it didn't have a complete consciousness, Francis always felt uneasy carrying it. His intuition screamed at him that he needed to hide this thing. No—he should destroy it entirely.

At the same time, in the vast expanse of space, the Iron Blood hung silently in the dark abyss like a sleeping steel behemoth. The Gloriana-class battleship belonging to the Fourth Legion shimmered with cold metallic luster, as if reflecting the faint light of surrounding stars while showcasing its extraordinary presence and power.

The bridge was the heart of the Iron Blood, located at the very front of the battleship. The captain and his lieutenants sat upright, their gazes sharp, maintaining an atmosphere both tense and orderly.

"What did you say?" Perturabo's voice was deep and resonant with barely contained fury. His face was covered by a half-mask helmet, revealing only his burning eyes, which blazed with rage. His chest heaved violently, and the chest plate of his power armor rumbled softly with each breath.

"You want me to intercept the Ultramarines and the Dark Angels, clearing the path for you to Terra. And at the same time go to Mars to deal with Francis and convince the Adeptus Mechanicus to rebel with you? What the hell do you take me for?"

The terrifying aura scared the Starseer so much that she didn't dare to breathe. She quickly explained, "It was the Warmaster who said it, not me."

Perturabo angrily punched the wall, directly gouging a large hole in the ship's bulkhead—and that was with him holding back his strength.

"What else did Horus say?" Perturabo demanded.

The Starseer swallowed, somewhat afraid to speak.

"Speak! What else did he say!" Perturabo roared.

A huge shadow covered the Starseer as he loomed over her, and she stammered out, "The Warmaster also said... he trusts you!"

Perturabo took a deep breath at those words, then quietly walked out of the bridge without another word.

About a few minutes later, the ship's hull continuously emitted violent vibrations, as if a beast was tearing apart the battleship from within. The crew exchanged nervous glances but said nothing. They knew better than to comment on their Primarch's rage.

[End of Chapter]

That's it for today, folks.

If you liked reading so far, please tell me your thoughts and leave a review on the book page.

Of course, if you are feeling more generous, throw some powerstoen my way.

And if you want to read more, you can check out my Patreon for 40+ chapters.

👉 patreon.com/cw/Mr_UmU

https://www.patreon.com/Mr_UmU

More Chapters