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“Praise the Omnissiah!
This is nothing short of a miracle!”
The assembled Tech-Priests dropped to their knees in excitement.
After the Primarch Angrona brought Lancelot to a massive steel warehouse on Nuceria, Lancelot very directly showed her and the accompanying Tech-Priest what a complete forge from Humanity’s Golden Age could do.
Sheets of steel vanished one after another.
In their place appeared set after set of Space Marine power armor, complete with weapons, grenades, supplies, medicine, and even single-rider jetbikes.
Lancelot repeated the process of taking in raw materials and drawing out finished items.
He glanced at the Tech-Priests, who were already knealing to him with fanatical expressions, then secretly looked again at the gene-Primarch Angrona standing beside him.
For the past hour, she had been extremely quiet.
Lancelot had no idea how to start a conversation, so he could only work first.
Even so, inwardly, he could not help comparing this loyal Primarch with the unfortunate Angron from his own memories.
It was somewhat rude, but Lancelot also knew that in this universe, half of the Primarchs had rebelled as well, and the childhood experiences of those traitor Primarchs were completely different from those in the main universe.
Still, there was no need to dwell on it.
What he needed to think about now was how to connect the loyalist forces of the two universes.
As for the medium, he had already found it.
Once he returned to the main universe seven days from now, waited for the main universe’s Custodes to find him, then went to meet the Emperor of that universe, everything would be on the proper track.
At that point, with the Yellow Old Man’s methods, he would naturally understand what Lancelot could do.
Lancelot only needed to wait for his arrangements, consult Roboute Guilliman’s opinion, and cooperate with them.
With that in mind, Lancelot pushed the forge template to full output.
Basic Space Marine equipment began rolling out in batches.
Three hours later, Lancelot had already stored all the materials in this place inside the Keeper’s Space, where they now waited to be processed by batch.
“I’ve finished collecting the materials in this warehouse.
By my estimate, this warehouse alone can produce roughly two hundred thousand full equipment sets.
The rest should be ready for delivery within three days.”
After finishing, Lancelot reported the situation to the gene-Primarch beside him.
Only then did Angrona seem to come back to herself.
She reached out and gently brushed her hand over the jetbike before her.
Looking at the silent Primarch in front of him, Lancelot thought for a moment, then asked, “Angrona, loyal daughter of the Emperor, is there anything you wish to ask me?
As long as I know the answer, I will tell you everything.”
After hearing his words, she seemed unusually calm.
“There is no need to concern yourself with me.
You currently carry the Emperor’s blood.
For safety reasons, I will travel with you.
You do not need to worry about my issues.
Through the Commander’s Mandate, I can link to the command center at any time and handle affairs across the entire star system.”
As Angrona spoke, she slightly lifted the red hair on one side, revealing a silver cable behind her pale neck.
It seemed to connect directly into the back of her skull.
The Commander’s Mandate?
“This technology doesn’t seem ordinary.”
Lancelot looked at the thing connected directly to her brain, curiosity rising in him.
At first, he had thought the Primarch of this world’s Twelfth Legion had no implants in her head.
He had not expected her to possess something comparable to the Butcher’s Nails after all.
And if it was something that served as an inverse counterpart to the Butcher’s Nails, then this Commander’s Mandate probably did more than merely link her to Legion affairs.
“This is a form of dark technology from Nuceria.
My adoptive father uncovered it and studied it.
He discovered that, in essence, it was a psychic amplifier capable of linking human emotions.”
Angrona gently touched the connection line behind her head, then looked at Lancelot.
“When I descended into this world, it was still trapped in an ignorant age of slavery.
My adoptive father was a ruler.
He dreamed of creating a kingdom of heaven, so he adopted me and educated me.”
Cheap old dad versus expensive adoptive father, huh?
Yellow Old Man, your parenting skills really are no different from a beast!
Lancelot roasted him inwardly.
Angrona glanced at Lancelot, then continued recalling the past.
“He believed people fought endlessly because they could not accurately feel one another’s emotions.”
“So after he uncovered this technological relic, he began researching it.
He tried to mass-produce it.
His dream was to give it to all of humanity, so that every person could feel the emotions of every other person, and in doing so end all conflict between them.”
“In truth, that plan came very close to succeeding.
But my adoptive father overlooked the existence of Chaos.”
“As long as those daemons of the Warp remain, innocent people will always be tempted and led down the wrong path.
Once even one person’s emotions are driven to collapse by daemonic influence, the others linked to that person will fall into the same state.” This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
“That is why this device is currently equipped only on me.”
So Angrona said.
“I see.”
Lancelot thought quietly to himself.
Come to think of it, the Twelfth Primarch, judging from her outward traits, seemed like a Primarch the Emperor had specifically developed toward the role of a psychologist.
The ability to feel other people’s emotions was, in itself, the innate gift of the Twelfth Primarch.
Now that she was equipped with the Commander’s Mandate, that gift had been strengthened even further.
If so, then this Primarch of the Twelfth Legion truly deserved to be called unyielding.
She had felt despair more clearly than anyone else, and not merely the despair of one person, but the despair of everyone across an entire war zone.
Yet even under those circumstances, this Primarch still chose to fight for humanity and for the Emperor.
What loyalty.
Lancelot sighed inwardly.
But at that exact moment, Angrona looked at Lancelot and suddenly spoke in a light, casual tone.
“So, in your eyes, I should actually have been one of the traitors?”
“Hm?”
Lancelot had still been lost in his wandering thoughts.
Hearing the Twelfth say that so abruptly, he froze.
His current identity was the Emperor’s old friend and the Primarchs’ old uncle.
Unlike the Emperor, whose emotional intelligence fluctuated wildly between divine and disastrous, Lancelot fell silent for a while before explaining.
“Prophecy.
That was part of a prophecy.
I once vaguely saw that half of the Imperium would rebel.”
“But I do not mean that I saw you rebelling.
I mean that under these circumstances, with you feeling so much more than others, you still did not despair of the Imperium of Man and still did not choose betrayal.
That is exceedingly rare.
The Emperor should be proud of you.”
As Lancelot said this, the Primarch known as the Red Angel showed a faint hint of amusement.
“You truly are extraordinary, Lancelot.”
The gene-Primarch murmured softly, then gave a slight smile.
“This is an entirely unprecedented feeling.
For the first time, someone has treated me like a child.
In that case, I am beginning to believe that you may truly regard my father as a friend.”