Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

He then found himself unable to ask questions.

Who are the other person's parents? No data available.

Does he have no brothers or siblings?

What are the life goals of this poor carbon-based being?

None of these can be raised.

It's as if the people in front of us have transcended nature and escaped what they believe to be the control over intelligent life.

"I...I have no questions. You passed, Asia—data error."

The undead Sphinx fell silent, reverting to its original form of data flow, becoming a node.

At the same time, a green beam of light shines from above the node, connecting and guiding the way to the real obelisk in the city center.

All the undead guards along this route fell silent and ceased their vigilance.

This almost caught Sicarios off guard, who initially thought these cunning aliens were treacherous and had ambushed them.

He remained in a fighting stance, half a bullet still in his hand, and whispered a warning:

“Aaron, be careful, this could be a trap. Whether it’s insects or undead, they possess a combat intelligence that cannot be ignored. Mortals often mistakenly believe they have defeated their enemies and eliminated their mobility.”

"In reality, they had fallen into a trap, and it was too late to regret it."

Aaron's footsteps approached, and he reached out to pat Sicarius on the shoulder, whose body was tense.

"Alright, I've passed the test at this node. They seem to be gathering humans who can resist the exorcising death zone, and I happen to be one of them. Let's go, the path has been shown."

After saying this, Aaron walked forward on his own, adding as he did so:

“I can make a run for it anytime, but you, Sicarius, I’ll have to try and see if I can get you to Guilliman’s side. It might be a bit difficult for you to fight your way out alone.”

Take me to my father's side?

Sicarius followed in silence, still unable to hide his inner doubts:

Are you a psionicist?

Aaron nodded, then shook his head:

“Many people think I’m a psionicist, but compared to my parents’ generation, oh, and Loka, Magnus and the others, I don’t think I am. At least I can’t conjure lightning with my hands.”

Loka, Magnus.

It is yet another filthy name of a traitor.

Aaron, why didn't Marum kill you?

Because of Aaron's presence, Sicarius had to suppress his past behavioral patterns and try to reconstruct a way that could adapt to the current environment.

The two continued forward; the road was still long, but at least there were no enemies to stop them.

Macedonia, 600 BC.

With nothing going on at home, and thinking about how his brother would wake up and enjoy his new dishes, Anglong has set off again to organize and repair his food inventory.

This time, he left a copy for the little bat, and the creature was quite sensible; after receiving it, it didn't touch its own treasure.

Angron doesn't need Marum's protection; he's surrounded by some local underlings who all call him boss.

"Boss, there's a weirdo watching us up ahead."

When his younger brother reminded him, Angron looked over and saw it was that strange man with his facial organs not growing into their proper places again, the Sphinx.

This time, he didn't bring any companions.

"Angron, answer my question. How about it? There's a reward if you answer correctly."

"For the first question, describe as much as you can your hatred for your father, and I'll tell you where the best-tasting plants in this mountain wilderness are."

Chapter 333 Tzeentch Deceives Angron, Khorne: Seriously? You even tricked me with the guaranteed drop when it went wrong? (3K)

"Boss, this guy is acting strange. What is he saying?"

The underlings also heard these words, but their minds were not sharp enough to detect anything unusual.

Anglon simply used his father's magical metaphorical way of describing it:

"When your father beat you, did you ever think about fighting back one day?"

The younger brothers suddenly realized, and then their little minds could hardly imagine any possibility of escaping their father's clutches.

"Listen to my orders, you all go home first, and come find me to play again at noon."

Angron gave the order, instructing his underlings to leave first.

Although he didn't feel threatened by the strange man in front of him, he kept his father's philosophy in mind: to keep people of this era away from all sorts of weird stuff.

Who knows what strange records they'll create by making up stories and letting them circulate?

Not to mention that these underlings are all children. It's fine if they forget them when they grow up, but once they remember, coupled with the blurriness of their memories, the monsters they create may be far removed from their real appearance.

Rather than doing that, it's better to ignore all this nonsense.

The older brother does not reject the idea that ordinary people see the extraordinary or the bizarre, but he needs real and reliable records to treat it as knowledge.

It's not some legend or secret.

Angron dismissed his underlings before walking towards the Sphinx, stopping a few meters ahead with his hands on his hips:

"Hey! You monster, where are your companions today? Are you afraid I'll wipe them all out?"

Sphinx was in a state of confusion. What was wrong with these children of the cursed one? Their thoughts were all so unpredictable.

He took a deep breath, calmed himself down, and tried to maintain a steady demeanor while coaxing the child, saying:

“Angron, my good boy, if you answer my question, I will guide you to the most delicious ingredients in this mountain wilderness.”

Anglong remained unmoved and persisted:

"You still haven't answered my question! What kind of monster are you?! Why are your eyes not eyes and your mouth not mouth? My dad said that what a person sees in their childhood will influence their perception for a lifetime."

As soon as Angron finished speaking, a laugh that did not belong to him escaped from the Sphinx's mouth, as if a higher being was using his body to observe this moment in time:

"Pfft—hahaha, giggle giggle!" Tzeentch was amused by these words and laughed heartily. He was leaning against the edge of the Well of Eternity, holding an N64 console controller in his hand, controlling the Sphinx to do bad things in the past. At this moment, it was as if he had suddenly played a funny scene and couldn't help but laugh.

“Excuse me, your father is right, hahaha! It’s really funny that he can say these things now. Oh, right, I almost forgot, you were thrown out by your mother.”

Tzeentch was grinning from ear to ear, like a nerdy guy lying in bed, writhing and shaking with glee, playing a massively multiplayer online role-playing game.

He had to hand over control to the other heads to tempt Angron.

He has many heads still fighting Nurgle, so his energy is too scattered.

Aaron won't cause any major trouble; he'll die in another six hundred years, so it's not a big problem.

There's no need to risk the Black King and them exploding right now by touching Aaron.

Tzeentch planned to wait until the Messiah died before making his move.

Now, it's obviously more interesting to rearrange the fall of a Primarch.

After all, the Messiah's fate was already predetermined before his death, and the change suddenly subsided.

Only these Primarchs, whose fates have been completely altered, are like starting a new strategy game, which excites Tzeentch greatly.

Every game is a roguelike game with significant plot twists, and this time it's still something He's happy to do.

Don't ask Him why He changes His mind so quickly and is so fickle.

Otherwise, He wouldn't be Tzeentch.

The Sphinx quickly regained its composure and saw the big boss off.

The description of the future that Angron fears begins:

"I am the Sphinx, you know, the god of riddles."

Anglong dismissed it: "No, no, no, my father told me in his stories that the Sphinx wasn't a god, but a bastard. Maybe it should be called a Chimera. He also said that I might be a bastard too, just like you guys."

"By the way, why don't you transform into the Sphinx?"

The Sphinx's face twitched as it struggled to maintain its balance.

Boss, can we change the target?

This kid's thinking is so unpredictable, I can't keep up with his train of thought!

Tzeentch issued the top directive: this kind of target, where neither side can agree with the other, is their company's best business. Keep it up!

I'll give you a raise when I get back from this business trip.

The Sphinx could only expand its body and lie down, its human skin all wrinkled from washing.

Lion mane slowly grew from the back of his neck, barely resembling a sphinx.

"Is that okay now, you little brat? Answer my question!"

Angron, beaming with joy, clapped his little hands and circled around the Sphinx:

"That's more like it. When meeting mythical creatures, don't always pretend. Just reveal your true forms."

"By the way, what did you ask me just now?"

The Sphinx maintained utmost patience, which was far too painful for the Tzeentch demon.

Patience means enduring the current unchanging state.

“I ask you—” Sphinx tried to use a calm tone, emphasizing each word clearly: “How much do you hate your father?”

"You yourself said he called you a bastard—so how will he treat you brothers when you grow up?"

"To be used as a tool, or as a meaningless failure?"

This time, Anglong listened carefully to the question: Did he hate his father?

Although it seems like his father often throws him up high, makes him climb chimneys, and secretly says he's a bastard.

But they would also patch it up, saying that this hybrid was the same as the hybridization technique developed by a man named Mendel who played with peas.

It is a biological term and has no moral connotation.

In biology, there's also metamorphosis, where a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly.