Sci-Fi War, Start With An Upgradeable Spaceship

The huge body was trembling, and disappeared in an instant with a highly poisonous breath.

Mortarion's voice was that of a child found guilty of a small but unforgivable crime.

The roar just now was suppressed by himself.

Facing his father, he appeared very timid.

Even after such a long time, he still saw the Emperor as a mouse sees a cat.

At the time of the Battle of Terra, the Emperor's involvement in battles was minimal.

Basically, they are fighting the gods in the cyberway and spiritual realm.

If the Emperor went to the battlefield in person, Mortarion and the other brothers would turn around and run away immediately.

Forgive me, father. said Mortarion timidly.

Marat stood in front of the cell, his eyes directly inspecting Mortarion's heart through the extraordinary body created by his knowledge and power. .

"You nearly destroyed everything, and plunged the world into endless abyss. Your "Seventy Three" crime cannot be forgiven, or is the injury and blasphemy of the dead. Mortarion."5

Hearing this, Mortarion drooped his head like a child, not daring to have the slightest doubt.

He couldn't even utter the words of begging for mercy.

Mara glared at him, then his eyes softened.

Mortarion did not really turn to the Four Gods.

It was because of Typhon's betrayal that the fleet led by him fell into Nurgle's trap.

After a long illness, he finally chose to succumb.

"You are a traitor, Mortarion. Confess your crimes like a man, not like a beast.""

Leaving this sentence behind, Mara walked away.

Mortarion could not speak a word.

After the emperor left, he quietly faced the wall like a child who made a mistake.

Roar!

Not all sons are like Magnus and Mortarion.

Angron roared when he saw the Emperor, his own father.

His eyes still showed endless anger, and his strong and brutal body hit the prison door made of high-strength alloy, making a bang bang sound.

The chains that bound him made a muffled sound.

He hated his father like a beast.

"Slave master." Angron roared in a low voice, "You will be drowned in your own blood."

Angron's anger is the mythical volcano of doom, which will never be extinguished.

Even if the nail embedded in the lobe of his brain has been removed by the technicians of the Empire.

But Angron still hated the emperor and his father.

Even after being trapped for countless years, his anger still hasn't subsided in any way.

He waits for his chance.

As long as he is not dead, he will always wait.

Angron is like a monster out of a myth.

Frost giants in ancient Norse mythology.

The deity of the evil religions of the pre-Dark Ages.

All parts of his body were distorted and swollen, revealing a cold and murderous aura in the weirdness.

Even though he was tortured, he still had a bloody grin.

It was as if there was nothing in his life except killing and pain.

"You're still the same." Marla looked at Twelve.

"Yes, I will always be. I will no longer obey you, and I will never submit again.

Angron gritted his teeth

Even though the Butcher's Nail had been removed, he was still in a state of rage.

There is no doubt about the technology of the empire, and there will be no mistakes.

The only explanation is that Angron hated the emperor and his father.

"You know I have to. The Great Crusade needed you, and you were needed to lead a legion."5

Mara looked at Angron and said.

"It has nothing to do with me." Angron spat, "I would rather die in Nuceria than become your general. I should be with my friends, this is my oath, it is my life All. And you took it all away, made me break my vows, and reduced them to something ridiculous."

"I will curse you forever, slave master."

Angron smiled ferociously.

"You should probably look at Nuceria today. 35

Marat looked at Angron.

Even if they were thrown out of the laboratory by the four gods of chaos, the experiences of the twenty primarchs were different.

As soon as Angron landed in Nuceria, he was assassinated by the Aeldari.

Even though the Primarch possessed powerful combat power at an early age, the young Angron still paid an extremely heavy price in the face of the Aeldari.

Scarred and on the verge of death, Angron was finally captured by the nobles of Nuceria and trained as a gladiator.

In order to tame the primarch, the nobles of Nuceria continued to wear down the goodness of the young primarch.

Put it in a lava pool, and the only way to survive is to kill all the gladiator slaves.

In the case of fainting from hunger, let it fight for food and eat the corpses of defeated gladiators.

There are countless means like this, just to obliterate his mind.

In the end, Angron was implanted with the core piercer, also known as the butcher's nail.

The Butcher's Nails are an extremely malevolent and profane mechanical artifact 0..

It will permanently change the structure of the implanter's brain lobe, insula and cortex, and restructure the implanter's emotional function.

Let the implanter only have anger as an emotion.

Anything else would be excruciatingly painful for the implanter.

Thinking, touching, and breathing will all make the implanter extremely painful.

Only anger and rage can make the nerves of the implanter feel short-term pleasure.

With a strong will, Angron suppressed the Butcher's Nail and led the gladiators to launch an uprising against the nobles of Nuceria.

At that time Angron was like a stubborn fighter against the terrible nobles and the butcher's nails in his mind.

Angron would still laugh heartily at his fellow gladiators, even in the throes of agony.

This resistance continued until Angron was taken away from his companions by the Emperor.

Terrible hatred was buried from that moment, until Horus' win over, Angron joined without hesitation.

Mara opened the interface casually, and it was the world of Nuceria.

Lush and lush, like a bright pearl in the vast void.

That beautiful world is full of vast blue oceans, silver high-speed mountains, green forests and boundless golden fields with surging wheat waves.

Everyone has a happy smile on their face.

Some children were fighting, and some complained that the teachers and school food were not as good as those outside.

Countless ships came and went, moored at interstellar ports, and then rushed into the atmosphere, bringing fruits and specialties from other planets.

Those towering, bloody arenas have disappeared, leaving only 5.5 under some moderate fighting events.

Every arena stands or depicts some murals.

Telling the deeds of gladiators in the past against tyranny, let people remember that equality and a just world are hard-won.

"Yochuka." The furious Angron calmed down strangely when he saw the mural.

He saw a familiar person on the mural.

That was his companion, a child who was only fifteen years old.

"Do you know him?" Mara stayed on the mural, and then zoomed in to see it more clearly.

"His deeds are sung by many children, a fifteen-year-old hero bravely used his frail body to resist the tyranny of the nobles.

"He will be remembered forever, and he will always remind us how terrible the harm of ordinary people is to the tyranny of the powerful and powerful.

"Where are those nobles?" Angron forced to suppress the pain in his heart and asked.