Chapter 65: This, this, this... Outrageous!
"No! How did you transform into Asphernos?!" Ferrus exclaimed, his head throbbing at the sight before him.
Back on Medusa, he'd used every ounce of his strength to destroy that metallic abomination, finally drowning it in a magnetic field. That battle had cost him; the beast's molten flesh had corroded his arm, transforming it into the living iron it was now.
"Don't you think it's cool? It's like having built-in armor," Francis said, gesturing enthusiastically at his transformed body.
Perturabo said nothing. He simply wheeled over a mirror and positioned it in front of Francis.
The reflection revealed a massive, centipede-like creature with elaborate horns protruding from its head.
How careless! His previous form hadn't been the full transformation. This indicated that the silver creature's genetics had evolved to an extraordinarily high level, so advanced that even Francis needed time to replicate and fully control them.
"Uh, excuse me. I'll go back and fix this!" Francis's face flushed red as he slunk toward the laboratory, but Sarpedon and the others blocked his path.
Sarpedon looked at him with unusual gravity. "Primarch... no Father, we have something to tell you."
Francis was puzzled. Were they this serious just because of another flesh mutation?
He tried to lighten the mood. "Go ahead, speak! It's fine, I've prepared plenty of anesthetic this time, so the cutting won't hurt."
The Soul Drinkers stood in uncomfortable silence.
Sarpedon pulled Francis directly into the laboratory. "Primarch, every time you fight, you either bring Orks or even more Orks," he began, his voice tight with frustration.
"We feel like you don't need us at all. Even the World Eaters get to fight alongside their Primarch!"
"This makes us feel useless," he continued. "The Space Wolves are keen trackers because their Primarch's sense of smell is exceptional. But us? Besides gnawing on things in battle just like you, we're not like you at all!"
As Sarpedon spoke, the other Soul Drinkers nodded frantically, like abandoned children seeking validation.
Francis was bewildered by this scene. He was afraid that a single pitched battle would wipe out the entire Soul Drinkers Legion.
Other Legions numbered in the tens of thousands; Guilliman probably had hundreds of thousands of Ultramarines by now. His Soul Drinkers numbered only a few thousand. They'd be annihilated if they charged in recklessly.
"So... we need to recruit more?" Francis raised an eyebrow tentatively.
Everyone shook their heads with fierce determination. "We want to join your newest genetic lineage!"
Francis frowned, his tone turning serious. "Do you understand what this means?"
"We know! But we also know you obtained the modification methods from Fabius," Sarpedon stepped forward. "We're willing to take the risk."
"There are still encrypted elements in my genes that even I haven't fully decoded," Francis warned, his levity completely gone. "It's entirely possible you could mutate into something monstrous."
The Soul Drinkers remained silent, their eyes resolute.
"Heh, what's the big deal! With me around, there won't be any accidents," Francis said, attempting humor that sent visible shivers down the Soul Drinkers' spines. "How about this, Sarpedon, you come in first. I'll practice on you."
"Good! Primarch, wait a moment, I'll be right there," Sarpedon replied.
With that, Sarpedon rushed out. A few minutes later, he returned carrying something new—a set of eight-legged greaves.
"Primarch, I remember you said I might mutate eight legs, so I had these custom power greaves made first," he explained earnestly.
Francis covered his face in exasperation. He'd never seen such a thoroughly prepared person.
But jokes aside, the actual experiment was deadly serious. Sarpedon lay on the operating table as Francis carefully extracted a mature gene-seed from his progenoid gland.
Francis separated the seed, dissolving portions of its genetic structure.
From the gene map, it was clear their gene template was missing numerous encrypted modules compared to his current template.
When Francis isolated genes from his own blood and filtered out the special sequences, he initially expected to encounter the anti-rejection phase. Instead, his unique genetic clusters integrated directly into the gene-seed.
Francis stared in shock.
It seemed absurd, but even more shocking was that the gene-seed's activity increased dramatically. White striations appeared across its surface, and it began pulsing rhythmically like a heart.
"Hiss... Do you want to try it?" Francis picked up the pulsating gene-seed and showed it to Sarpedon.
Sarpedon looked up, nearly fainting. That thing didn't look like a proper seed at all, and the Primarch was casually asking if he wanted to test it.
"Come on! Primarch, I can take it!" Sarpedon said, gritting his teeth and steeling himself.
"No rush. I'll edit it again using Fabius's modification techniques," Francis said.
Sarpedon breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like his life had been returned to him.
After multiple experiments, comparisons, and genetic observations, Francis stabilized the new semi-sequenced gene-seed. After monitoring it for a full seven days, he finally implanted the modified seed into Sarpedon's body.
The moment it entered his system, Sarpedon began trembling, his face contorting in extreme agony.
"Holy cow, don't scare me. All your indicators are normal! Talk to me!" Francis patted him and soon heard Sarpedon roar.
"Awesome!" Sarpedon immediately leapt up, moving constantly within the laboratory, completely exhilarated by his enhanced capabilities.
At the same time, Francis felt something change. He could vaguely sense Sarpedon's presence, not through sight, but through a conscious connection, as if he could dimly perceive the other's thoughts.
Could this be the unity of father and son?
When Sarpedon calmed down, Francis handed him a cup of Ork blood.
Sarpedon instantly understood. He raised his cup and exclaimed, "Know your enemy, cheers!"
He drank it in quick gulps. At first, nothing happened. After about fifteen minutes, just when Francis thought it had failed, Sarpedon suddenly began shaking violently, apparently in great pain, and his skin gradually turned green.
His body was continuously transforming into that of an Ork. Finally, Sarpedon couldn't help but roar, "WAAAAGH!"
After he completely transformed into an Ork, Sarpedon looked at himself in utter shock and shouted, "Primarch, I did it! It worked! It really worked! Your experiment was successful! It really—"
Seeing him shouting endlessly, Francis walked up and punched Sarpedon in the stomach. The intense pain immediately brought him back to reality.
"It worked. Now get out, I need to start batch production," Francis said flatly. "Also, tell them to prepare to receive the new gene-seeds."
His utterly serious demeanor made Sarpedon realize his Primarch was an incredibly passionate technologist.
Sarpedon quickly left and was immediately surrounded by the other Soul Drinkers, their eyes burning with fervor.
"Holy cow! It worked! The Primarch really did it!"
"What's it like to turn into an Ork? Tell us!"
"I just want to shout Waaaagh! I want to fight too! I'm suddenly so excited! Hahaha!"
"I'm so envious!"
"Don't worry, everyone will get one! The Primarch is currently replicating new gene-seeds! Everyone, get ready, but don't rush!" Sarpedon assured them.
"Awesome!"
After Sarpedon left, Francis locked the door and soundproofed the room.
He took a deep breath, trying to lower his voice as he roared in triumph, "I knew you could do it, Francis! You are the Imperium's fiercest gene expert! I did it! Fuck Yes!"
He himself hadn't expected to complete this modification so safely. He hadn't realized his gene fusion rate was beyond anything he'd imagined.
In the following days, Francis began creating new gene-seeds. He also stripped the genes of Asphernos, isolating only the sequences related to metallic flesh, and then used them to produce a supplementary serum.
Once immersed in research, time became fluid and meaningless.
Finally, after more than ten days of continuous experimentation, he produced the exclusive genetic enhancement for the Soul Drinkers and created a sufficient quantity of gene-seeds.
Just when the Soul Drinkers had begun to lose their initial enthusiasm, their modification surgery finally commenced.
The surgery proceeded normally until a new gene-seed was implanted into the body of one Soul Drinker.
For a moment, he shifted into another form, then changed back.
This Soul Drinker, looking utterly bewildered, said, "Sorry... I'm actually a spy from the Alpha Legion."
Francis's eyes widened in complete shock. "What? When did you infiltrate?"
"I don't remember either. My apologies, Lord Primarch." The Alpha Legion warrior stood in visible confusion.
He'd now been implanted with the Soul Drinkers Legion's gene-seed.
So what was he now?
Alpha Legion, or Soul Drinkers?
He looked at Francis in anguish. "What Legion am I from now? Soul Drinkers? Alpha Legion? I can't tell! I really can't tell anymore! Who am I?! Ah!"
The warrior clutched his head in pain. His conscious mind told him he was Alpha Legion, but his body, his very instincts, told him he was now a Soul Drinker.
He could even vaguely feel his connection with Francis.
"Who should I obey?!" he cried out. "I can't figure it out! I can't figure it out! Ah!"
The warrior continuously clawed at his own flesh, trying to prove he was Alpha Legion, but he could never escape what his body had become.
Just as he was about to break down completely, Francis knocked him unconscious with a single punch and secretly stashed him in a hidden compartment.
He decided to see exactly how many spies were lurking in his Legion.
After performing surgery on the entire Legion, Francis actually caught over a dozen Alpha Legion infiltrators.
"I only have a few thousand men, and they've infiltrated this much?! What the hell does the Alpha Legion want?" Francis stared at the unconscious bodies on the floor, utterly shocked.
This feeling made him incredibly uncomfortable, like discovering his sons had been swapped at birth.
So he decided to spread this discomfort around a bit and had Sarpedon summon Perturabo and Ferrus.
"What's so mysterious that you had to call us here? Why are so many people lying on the ground?" Perturabo asked as he entered.
"You have so few warriors, yet you managed to incapacitate this many? You're truly ruthless!" Perturabo gave Francis a thumbs-up in genuine admiration.
"As expected of the one who defeated me, even your discipline is harsher than mine! You're truly formidable!"
Ferrus, however, was far more observant.
He carefully examined their faces and said with a strange expression, "Why do they look somewhat like Alpha Legion warriors? Did they defect to join you?"
Francis looked at him meaningfully, finally managing to say, "What if I told you they are Alpha Legion?"
Perturabo and Ferrus both stared in shock.
"How is that possible! Don't make such jokes!" Perturabo protested. "If these are all Alpha Legion infiltrators, then our own Legions..."
Thinking of the implications, Perturabo fell silent, his mind racing through the tactical nightmare this represented.
[End of Chapter]