Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 895 Both jade and stone are destroyed
Fabius Bayer's experimental base is located deep within the Eye of Fear, a strange place that belongs neither to the real universe nor to the warp, where his safety can be guaranteed to the greatest extent.

Both the enemies of the human empire and the malicious beings in the warp are eyeing Fabiusbeil covetously.

However, despite his numerous precautions, two incredibly precious Primarch clones still died cruelly right before his eyes.

This means that the emperor could easily kill himself if he wanted to.

Ever since Bayer cloned the Primarch, his arrogance and conceit have been growing wildly, giving rise to the delusion that he could be compared to the Emperor.

He will surpass emperors and accomplish a great undertaking that even the ruler of mankind has not achieved.

But at this moment, he suddenly felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water, and he suddenly realized that his life was not as safe as he had imagined.

Fabius was one of the very few Astartes in the Sons of the Emperor's Legion who survived the clutches of the Blight.

In order to survive, he once used his identity as a pharmacist to alter medical records, and secretly extracted special substances from the remains of his comrades to make a potion that allowed him to prolong his life.

This unique experience made him cherish his life even more.

In his view, having survived the curse of the wilt disease, he had inherited the values ​​that his dead brothers had not yet realized, and he had to fulfill his own great ideal.

However, in the brief moment that Fabius was distracted, Feralus had already begun to slaughter all the emperor's sons in front of him.

He had no weapons, but his iron fists, made of flesh and blood, were the most deadly weapons.

He crashed into the emperor's son like a human battering ram.

A swordsman's breastplate, along with the body inside, was dented by Felus's punch, and the sound of mortar and bones shattering could be clearly heard.

He grabbed the Shanabal saber in the other swordsman's hand with his other hand, and with just the strength of his fingers, he made it impossible for the other to move the blade even an inch.

This weapon, which relies on its own sharpness to injure the enemy, once again exposed its huge shortcomings when facing an enemy whose nerve reflexes, strength, and skills completely overwhelmed it.

If it were a power sword with a force field that could break down a force field, or a chainsaw sword that was constantly rotating, no matter how skilled Felus was, he would not be able to lock the blade with his fingers.

Unlike its original form, it doesn't possess a pair of invulnerable steel hands capable of directly withstanding deadly attacks such as decomposition force fields, molten ultra-high temperatures, and plasma.

After touching the saber in the Emperor's son's hand, Felus quickly generated a large amount of complex analytical data in his mind.

Ferrus had a complete understanding of the weapon's material, forging process, usage time, habits, and even its mechanical spirit.

These weapons held no secrets in front of Felus. The Primarch then pinpointed the saber's weakest point and flicked it lightly with his other hand. The resulting high-frequency vibrations caused the saber to disintegrate.

"Traitor, die!"

Felus grabbed the broken tip of the saber, then with a clever toss and flip, he plunged the sharpest part directly into the Emperor's Son's helmet, disappearing into his skull through the relatively weak visor.

Compared to Lemanrus's savage and brutal attack methods, Feralus's every move exuded a perfect coordination and efficiency.

He doesn't make unnecessary moves, but he always manages to achieve the greatest results with the least amount of effort.

The emperor's son's swordsmanship seemed so pale and powerless to him.

The laboratory instantly transformed into a slaughterhouse, with purple armor fragments, broken weapons, and mangled corpses flying everywhere, resembling a scene from hell.

"Lord Fe...Ferus..."

A swordsman of the Emperor's Son, slowed down by the corpse of his comrade, watched as Felus charged towards him like a demon god, and his weapon clattered to the ground.

He was not the most depraved Slaanesh believer; he still retained a trace of awe for the Primarch and a vague memory of the Legion's past honors.

Now, all those painful memories have come back to life, transforming into the vivid image of Feralus.

Faced with the insurmountable Avengers who bore the Legion's deepest sins, he could only close his eyes in despair.

"Forgive us..."

Felus's iron fist, accompanied by a whistling sound, stopped an inch above the swordsman's head.

His deep eyes trembled violently as he looked at the complex expression on the other person's face, a mixture of fear, guilt, and pain.

On the battlefield of Istvaan V, those once-familiar faces, those warriors who had fought side by side before their betrayal... memories pierced his heart like poisonous needles.

A strange sense of pain began to creep into Felus's anger.

"Coward!" Felus ultimately did not bring down his fist, but instead let out a low growl filled with disappointment and contempt. He then kicked the swordsman who had given up resistance, sending him flying into the distance and knocking him unconscious against the wall.

"Take up your weapons and die like warriors, don't tarnish your last shred of pathetic dignity!"

This scene, like a drop of boiling oil being thrown into water, subtly divided the other Emperor's Son swordsmen who were still resisting.

Some lunged even more frantically at Felus and the struggling Lemanrus, while others moved noticeably slower, their eyes filled with struggle and confusion.

The very existence of Feralas is the most direct test of their fallen souls, forcing them to recall the many crimes they have committed.

My own betrayal, my own depravity, my own shame.

This was like tearing open the most sensitive wound of the Emperor's Sons Legion and exposing it to the scorching sun.

"Useless, a bunch of useless trash!" Fabiusbeil looked at the instantly collapsing defenses and the Emperor's Son suffering heavy casualties, and immediately realized that the situation he feared most had come to pass.

A ruthless glint flashed in Bayer's eyes as he abruptly pressed his hand against an inconspicuous device at his waist—the overload controller that connected to the core energy reactor at the bottom of the laboratory.

In his calculations, it would take some time for the Primarch clones to fully awaken. Although he had left some contingency plans to prevent these dangerous Primarchs from rebelling, he had not been able to prevent any loopholes.

If he had known earlier that a Primarch would awaken prematurely, he would have definitely deployed more security forces to be stationed here.

But there's no going back in life. He'd rather destroy this cloning project that cost him so much than let Felus and Ruth leave with these clones.

After all, experiments can be repeated, but if the clones escape, that would be a huge problem.

However, just as Fabius Beyer was about to overload the reactor, the space in the center of the laboratory twisted and collapsed without warning.

An indescribable aura spread out...

The air in the laboratory became thick and sweet, and the light was tinged with an eerie, ever-changing pinkish-purple halo.

A viscous liquid, like beads of sweat, began to seep from the metal walls, emitting a mixture of aphrodisiac and putrid odors.

A massive vortex of psionic energy appeared out of thin air, and at its center, a figure with a breathtaking allure slowly descended.

His upper body was flawless, like the most handsome male in classical sculpture, with smooth and powerful muscle lines and skin that shimmered with a pearly luster.

Four long, slender arms, covered with fine, smooth scales, stretched out gracefully, exuding a bewitching beauty.

But below the waist was a huge snake tail covered with smooth, bright purple scales, which meandered and writhed.

The snake's tail tip gently slapped the ground, producing a rhythmic, captivating patter.

His face was still breathtakingly handsome, but his narrow eyes burned with an eternal hunger, endless pleasure, and a profound emptiness that could devour the soul.

Forgrim, the demon prince of Slaanesh, has descended upon this land.

"Oh...how...noisy little theater."

Forgrim's gaze swept over the wrecked laboratory, indifferently ignoring the dead and wounded sons of the Emperor, and disregarding the blood-soaked, fierce-looking Lemanrus.

Finally, with an almost obsessive focus, he fixed his attention on Ferrus Manus, who exuded a steely and menacing aura.

The moment Forgrim descended, all the Bloodlings, like grotesque creatures whose toes had been stepped on, let out an unprecedented, piercing scream filled with extreme terror.

They trembled and huddled together, displaying a despairing despair in the face of their natural enemy.

For these experts who manipulate souls and suffering, Slaanesh's demon prince was their only nemesis, and their souls were merely the most delicious dessert for him.

Forgrim merely glanced at them lazily, as if looking at a group of insignificant insects.

"Quiet down, little snacks..."

He chuckled softly, his voice carrying a strange, soothing power, which only made the Blood Spirit tremble even more violently.

“Today, I have no appetite for you,” he said, licking his scarlet lips as if making a promise.

Fabius breathed a sigh of relief. Even he felt immense pressure and a primal fear when facing his own Primarch.

He knew that the Forgrim before him was no longer the Primarch he once was. He had now become the Slaanesh's favorite, a despicable warp creature, and had nothing to do with humans.

Forgrim's serpent tail glided gracefully, silently swimming towards Feralus.

On his flawless face, a complex smile appeared, a mixture of nostalgia, deep affection, and a twisted possessiveness.

He reached out a hand covered in fine scales, as if to stroke Feralus's blood-stained yet still resolute face.

“Ferus... my dear brother, my eternal love…”

Fugrim's voice is full of bewitching magic; every syllable tries to penetrate the depths of the soul and evoke the most beautiful memories.

"Look at you, how real, how pure, this steely will, this burning rage, time seems to have truly flowed backward."

Feralus stood motionless like a statue cast in steel, his dark eyes fixed on Forgrim's inhuman snake-man form, filled with nothing but contempt and loathing.

"Get away, monster!"

Feralus's tone was like a warhammer striking an anvil, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Don't use your tainted mouth, defiled by chaos, to sully the words 'brother' and 'beloved'!"

Forgrim's smile froze slightly, and his outstretched hand stopped in mid-air.

The affection in his eyes was momentarily replaced by a hint of annoyance at being offended, but it was quickly overshadowed by an even stronger, morbid possessiveness.

“Defile? My dear Felus, you are too stubborn…”

Fugrim's voice carried a hint of grievance, like that of a misunderstood lover.

"Look at my current form. This is evolution, sublimation, and the ultimate beauty of breaking free from the constraints of the mortal body."

"I possess eternal life, and can enjoy endless pleasures. Isn't that a thousand times more wonderful than that cold, fleeting, and painful mortal body?"

His snake tail began to slowly wrap around Feralus's ankle, the slippery, cold touch making Feralus feel nauseous.

"Come with me, Feralas, back to my palace, back to Elysium... where there is eternal wine, the most beautiful music, and the most intoxicating experiences..."

We can be together forever, transcending mortal constraints, enjoying divine bliss… just as we once dreamed, brothers side by side, conquering the stars.

His words were seductive, attempting to evoke in Feralus memories of past friendships and a thirst for power.

"Dream?" Felus was jolted, forcefully breaking free from the snake's tail and taking a step back.

The contempt in his eyes was like a real flame, almost setting Forgrim ablaze.

"Our dream is to conquer the stars and the sea, for the future of humanity, not to become monsters like you who are obsessed with sensory stimulation, twisted, depraved, and shameless!"

“Look at yourself, Fugrim, you once pursued perfection, art, and progress.”

But now? You're just an empty shell, ruined by Slaanesh, a pathetic worm seeking endless thrills yet forever insatiable, a pitiful slave who's forgotten who he even is!

Felus's voice grew louder and louder, filled with anger and heartache.

"You betrayed the Emperor, you betrayed humanity, you betrayed your brothers, you betrayed everything between us!"
In Istvaan, you personally severed everything, and now you dare to desecrate the past with such a disgusting attitude?!

All expression vanished from Fugrim's face in an instant, leaving only a chilling coldness and a ferocious, demonic look of utter rage.

His handsome face twisted in pain, his snake-like eyes shrinking into dangerous vertical lines.

"Blasphemy? You say I'm blasphemy?!" Fugrim's voice suddenly rose, becoming sharp and piercing, like countless panes of glass scraping against each other.

“It’s you! Feralus Manus! It is you who refuses to embrace a greater being, it is you who stubbornly clings to that corrupt loyalty and ridiculous morality, it is you who can never understand true perfection and joy, you are the pathetic wretch living in the past!”

His four arms suddenly opened, and pinkish-purple psionic energy surged and rolled around him like tangible flames.

The temperature in the laboratory suddenly rose, and the air was filled with a cloyingly sweet aroma and a lewd stench.

“Since words cannot enlighten you,” Forgrim’s voice was icy cold, “then let pain teach you to recognize reality, let you experience what the ultimate beauty of pleasure and pain intertwined… truly is!”

A pinkish-purple psionic shockwave erupted from the center of Fugrim like a tsunami, hitting the Emperor's Son swordsmen who were still resisting or hesitating first.

They were swept by this powerful psychic energy, and in the next moment, many people's bodies were twisted and deformed under extreme sensory overload, and their flesh and blood were transformed into twisted, grotesque, and constantly writhing monsters.

The Bloodlings had fled the moment Fogrim arrived. Bayer tumbled and dodged, hiding behind a huge machine, his face extremely pale.

Ruth roared, holding the Shanabal saber, the son of the emperor, that he had just picked up in front of him.

The pinkish-purple energy surge slammed into the sword, instantly turning the finely crafted blade scalding hot and twisting, emitting a groan of unbearable strain.

The immense force sent Russ flying, crashing into a wall in the distance and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

He felt as if all the bones in his body were about to shatter. Even more terrifying, a strange force invaded his body along the hilt of the sword, like countless tiny poisonous insects crawling in his blood vessels, bringing waves of burning and tingling sensations, accompanied by intense pain and vivid hallucinations.

Feralus stood firm as a rock, his arms crossed in front of him, defiantly withstanding the impact of the psionic energy.

He stomped deep into the metal floor beneath his feet. He was not unharmed; Fulgrim's powerful psionic energy was like a leech, constantly eroding his skin, muscles, and even penetrating his bone marrow.

Even more terrifying, Forgrim's voice echoed in his mind like a demonic spell, trying to evoke his memories of past brotherhood and his desire for the joy of victory, in order to break his will.

"Hold on, Feralus!" The Wolf King struggled to his feet, ignoring the excruciating pain all over his body and the spreading hallucinations of the poison, and pounced on Forgrim once more.

He knew that Ferrus alone had no chance of winning.

"You overconfident little wolf cub!" Forgrim didn't even look at him directly.

"You know what? I've disliked you for a long time, Lemanrus!"

"You always reek of stench, you damned Fenris barbarian, you will never know how to appreciate beauty and art."

A massive snake tail lashed out like a whip, leaving afterimages, at a speed far exceeding Russ's reaction time.

boom!
Ruth was struck as if by a battering ram, and he was sent flying backward again, his sternum cracking with a chilling sound.

He fell heavily to the ground, blood gushing from his mouth and nose, and his vision blurred.

Slaanesh's poison spread wildly through his body, bringing bizarre hallucinations: he seemed to see his former brothers feasting, Horus beckoning to him, and Fenris burning...

The intense pain and bizarre pleasure intertwined, almost causing him to faint completely.

"Ferus, look at me!"

"You can only look at me, you can only have me in your eyes!"

"I am your only one!"

Forgrim's serpent tail coiled upwards like lightning, instantly binding Feralus's waist, abdomen, and legs. The immense constricting force caused Feralus's resilient body to groan under the strain.

Forgrim's four arms attacked Feralus's upper body like a storm, his four piercing swords dancing like dazzling light and shadow.

Felus fought back fiercely, his iron fists clashing violently with the stabbing sword, but two fists are no match for four hands, and he was soon overwhelmed.

A dagger slashed his chest, leaving a deep wound that exposed bone, while another dagger pierced his shoulder, causing his shoulder blade to crack.

Felus groaned in pain, his movements faltering.

"Submit to me, Feralus!"

Taking advantage of the moment, Forgrim tightened his serpent tail, while his other two hands caressed Feralus's cheeks like a lover's, his long tongue licking the open wound.

"Embrace me, embrace this ultimate joy, let us...become one."

"dream!"

Feralus's eyes were bloodshot, and he spat out blood and foam, which splattered all over Forgrim's face.

The excruciating pain and allure crashed against his will like a tidal wave, but Istvan V's betrayal, the dying roars of his offspring, the Emperor's last hopes... these images acted as the strongest anchors, firmly holding his soul afloat.

"I, Feralus Manus, was born human, and I will die human, and I will never yield to chaos! I will never yield to you, you twisted monster!"

With his last ounce of strength, he suddenly lowered his head and slammed his hard forehead into Forgrim's perfect nose.

Click!

A sharp, teeth-grinding crack rang out, catching Forgrim off guard. His handsome nose instantly collapsed, and demon blood splattered out. He let out a shriek mixed with pain and rage.

Looking again, Fogrim's once perfect face was now twisted into a grotesque mess, appearing utterly hideous.

"you wanna die!"

The demon prince was completely enraged. The snake tail that was wrapped around Ferus burst out with terrifying power, and Ferus immediately let out a roar of pain that was suppressed to the extreme. Blood gushed out like a spring from the wounds on his mouth, nose and chest.

His arms hung limply at his sides, his eyes began to glaze over, but a mocking smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

“At least… it smudged your… disgusting face…” he managed to utter the last words with difficulty.

As Forgrim watched Feralus die a horrible death, and saw that face still filled with contempt and defiance, he could no longer contain his rage.

"No!"

Lemanrus's eyes were bloodshot as he struggled to rush over and save Feralus, but the severe injury of his shattered sternum and the rampant Slaanesh poison within him left him like a lone wolf trapped in the mud, only able to let out a desperate howl.

The wolf king was filled with resentment at being just a clone. If he were the original, he would not have lost his fighting ability after such a blow.

Just as Feralus was about to die at the hands of Forgrim once again.

Deep within the laboratory's dome, walls, and floor, those previously inconspicuous black geometric lines, resembling decorative patterns, suddenly lit up.

A special force field with a powerful suppressive effect on subspace energy instantly filled the entire laboratory.

Leman Russ instantly realized that this was the effect of the Blackstone Anti-Psionic Matrix being activated.

The appearance of this force field was so sudden and so perfectly timed that all the power of the warp receded in this area like a receding tide.

The first to be affected was Slaanesh's demon prince.

An unbelievable shriek escaped from Forgrim's mouth, and the surging pinkish-purple psionic energy around him dimmed and shrank at a visible speed until it was completely extinguished.

This sudden turn of events was tantamount to being deprived of breath for Forgrim, the Slaanesh prince.

As a subspace being, he cannot appear in the real universe at will, nor can he adapt to the repulsive environment of the Blackrock Anti-Psionic Matrix.

The pearly luster on Forgrim's perfect body dimmed instantly, its scales turned gray, its four arms hung limply as if their bones had been removed, and the rhythm of its serpent tail's flapping became chaotic and weak.

He was like a fish thrown ashore, struggling and convulsing in vain, falling into an unprecedented state of weakness.

This sudden and dramatic change plunged the entire laboratory into a brief silence.

Even the remaining sons of the emperor stopped what they were doing, staring in disbelief at their grotesque genetic prototypes.

Lemanrus finally breathed a sigh of relief, as he suddenly caught a familiar scent.

It tastes like Roger Dorn.

This Primarch clone of the Fist of the Empire has been fully awakened at some unknown time.

Dorn's face was expressionless, only displaying an almost cold focus and precision.

When Ruth released Dorne, he was still asleep, and the ensuing fierce battle made everyone forget about the Primarch who had escaped.

After quietly waking up, Dorn quickly figured out the current situation and realized the desperate predicament the Primarch clones were in.

He didn't help Feralus and Lemanrus fight against Forgrim; Dorn knew that even if he were added to the fight, it wouldn't really change anything.

Therefore, Dorn secretly took action. He even killed a Bloodling who was in a state of mental turmoil due to the arrival of Forgrim, and obtained some information about the defense system of this experimental base through the blood and brain matter of the Bloodling.

It wasn't until Feralus was about to be killed by Forgrim that Dorn activated the Blackstone Anti-Psionic Matrix in the laboratory, revealing his presence.

Feralus seized the opportunity created by Dorne.

His eyes, which had begun to glaze over, suddenly burst forth with a final, defiant light of steely will.

He no longer needed to understand Dorn's plans; his warrior instincts made him instantly realize this was his last chance to die together.

"For...the Emperor!"

With the last of his life force, Felus let out a heart-stirring battle cry.

With that roar, his collapsing body suddenly unleashed one last incredible burst of power.

Feralus subdued Forgrim, and the two Primarchs rolled toward the corner of the laboratory, toward the rusty, viscous, dark green dissolving pool that emitted a pungent, sour smell and churned with thick, dark green bubbles.

"Do not--"

Forgrim finally managed to break free of a sliver of consciousness from the oppression of the Blackrock Matrix.

He felt his body being forcibly dragged, and sensed the dangerous aura emanating from the melting pool.

He twisted his body frantically, trying to break free from Feralas's grasp.

Fabius Beyer peeked out from behind the equipment where he was hiding and saw this scene.

"My dissolving tank, that's for processing waste..."

His voice stopped abruptly.

Feralus had already dragged Fugrim and slammed him hard into the churning, dark green dissolving liquid.

A chilling, violent corrosive sound spread out, and the dark green, viscous liquid boiled and churned wildly as if it were alive, sending plumes of thick, pungent white smoke, carrying a strong acidic and decomposing enzyme odor, soaring into the sky.

Fugrim let out an unprecedented scream.

The special solution in the dissolving pool was formulated by Bayer by combining the most vicious acid of the Dark Eldar with gene-level decomposing enzymes, specifically designed to treat "defective products" that failed in experiments.

According to laboratory guidelines, such hazardous materials should definitely be stored separately and used only as needed, but Fabius's arrogance led him to place the dissolution tank directly in a corner of the proto-cloning laboratory.

The moment Ferrus Manus fell into the pool, his body was enveloped by the terrifying solution.

The excruciating pain instantly overwhelmed everything, but there was no fear on his face, only a steely calm and... a sense of relief.

He looked at Forgrim, who was right in front of him, struggling and writhing wildly in the dissolving liquid, emitting inhuman screams. In his eyes, besides deep contempt, there was also the satisfaction of successful revenge.

Although he knew that the Primarch would not die completely, so what?

It was he, Feralus, who killed this despicable, depraved brother; that was enough.

His body rapidly dissolved under the influence of strong acid and decomposing enzymes; his strong muscles melted away like wax, and then his bare bones also dissolved completely.

It's as if they've never been here.

(End of this chapter)