After resting for a whole day and composing himself, Fu Qinghai, clad in a simple linen robe, followed Ogedai's wheelchair toward the familiar, dim, and eerie corridor deep within the Warship.
Inside Master Kunto's Laboratory.
Fu Qinghai, completely bare, was secured in a semi-open Incubation Pod, with Master Kunto's Operating Table nearby.
Not only were his clothes stripped off, but even the hair in every Seam on his body had been shaved clean.
Master Kunto's Servitor assistant's hair-shaving skill was truly excellent; the eight Mechanical Arms operated the razors with lightning speed.
Master Kunto, Ogedai, and Taral were gone; only Master Kunto and his few Servitors remained here.
Master Kunto remained silent, looking down as he adjusted the sharp Drill at the end of the metal tube in his hand.
Fu Qinghai glanced sideways; these metal tubes, thick or thin, large or small, would all eventually pierce his Skin and muscle to be inserted into his body.
At this moment, Fu Qinghai's thoughts began to wander again.
Becoming a Space Marine.
Fu Qinghai had never considered this before.
But when Ogedai presented this option before him, he felt no hesitation whatsoever.
Legend says Space Marines do not have those worldly desires and live an ascetic life, like Puritans.
Legend says Space Marines cannot procreate and can only pass on their lineage through the Gene-seed.
But Fu Qinghai didn't care about any of that.
Becoming a Space Marine meant becoming stronger!
That was enough. In the Warhammer 40,000 Universe, was there any method more stable or direct for becoming stronger than becoming a Space Marine?
In this man-eating Universe, how could one survive without becoming stronger?
"It's starting," Master Kunto's hoarse voice sounded beside him.
Fu Qinghai steadied his mind, cleared the distracting thoughts, and slowly let his mind go blank.
A pain shot through his back, and he felt a cold, tube-like foreign object insert itself into his chest cavity.
Then his vision went black, and he lost consciousness.
……
Outside the steel Sluice Gate, in the dim corridor.
Ogedai and Taral walked side by side.
As they walked, Ogedai suddenly spoke in a low voice:
"A swan flies high, covering a thousand miles in one leap. May this little eagle survive this ordeal and soar freely over the steppes."
The Chogoris native was suddenly inspired by poetry.
"...Locke isn't a Chogoris native," Taral was somewhat speechless at his companion's sudden awkward poetry and metaphor.
The eagle is revered in Chogoris culture; for instance, the White Scars Primarch, Chaghatai Khan, has a title called the 'War Hawk.'
"Although Locke is not a Chogoris native, he is indeed a little eagle; he possesses the ambition of a swan."
The survival rate for Space Marine Augmentation Surgery is very low; not everyone can endure so many complex procedures. Even when meticulously selecting candidates, the Imperium of Man still has to rely on sacrificing lives.
It was originally an idea born of chance, and Ogedai and Taral were already mentally prepared.
Prepared to receive the news of Fu Qinghai's death due to surgical failure.
…………
PS: Warhammer is a popular British cultural IP, but Chogoris and the White Scars were designed based on stereotypes of Eastern culture. In the lore, Chogoris natives love composing poetry, calligraphy, and burning incense, so I used slightly archaic phrasing here rather than a translated tone, as I feel it provides better immersion~