Chapter 66: We Are All Alpharius
Perturabo and Ferrus stood in heavy silence. Neither Primarch spoke. Both were processing the same unsettling reality.
Alpharius had infiltrated deep. Too deep. If Francis hadn't re-implanted his gene-seed, the three of them would still be blind to the threat embedded in their own Legions.
"Why don't we re-implant the gene-seed as well?" Ferrus finally asked.
"I think that's a good idea. I don't think I have any problems here, after all..." Perturabo trailed off.
He didn't finish his sentence. After all, dying quickly and getting replaced often wasn't something to brag about.
Francis stepped forward before either could continue, radiating confidence. "Don't worry, I have a way to help you. It seems it's time to let you witness true technology."
"Do you have a better method?" Ferrus stroked his chin. After all, this was their first time dealing with such a problem.
"You'll know soon," Francis smirked and opened the door. He shouted into the corridor, "All Soul Drinkers, assemble outside!"
After shouting, he walked outside. Ferrus and Perturabo stood confused.
"What is he doing?" one of them asked. "Does he need the Astartes to come out?"
The two looked at each other, unable to understand what Francis had planned. They followed him anyway.
Outside, they found Francis and his warriors standing in formation. Each Soul Drinker held a canister containing green liquid.
"Soul Drinkers, let us drink this cup together!" Francis raised the Ork boy's blood high and drank it all in one gulp.
At the same time, all the Soul Drinkers drank the blood fanatically. "Ugh ah! So good!"
Then a puff of green smoke drifted from their bodies. In just fifteen minutes, the Primarch and the entire Soul Drinkers Legion had all turned into green-skinned Orks.
Francis roared, his voice deepening into something bestial. "Waaaaaaagh! How do you feel, Soul Drinkers?"
"Waaaaaaaagh!" they bellowed back.
"Awesome, Boss! Hahaha!"
"Ya hoo! Waaaaaaagh!"
"Why are you a Captain? I don't accept it now! Let's fight!"
The Ork boys kept pounding their chests, brawling and wrestling everywhere. Thousands of Ork boys in power armor fought across the assembly ground, and the Ork Boss leading them was still their Primarch brother. Francis had grown to over six meters tall.
"This... this... this... what?" Ferrus stammered.
Perturabo couldn't form words. Both Primarchs' eyes nearly popped out of their heads, and their hands instinctively moved toward their weapons.
Looking at the overwhelming thousands of Ork warriors before them, they felt like the Imperium's sky had fallen.
Perturabo prayed to the Emperor in his heart. Emperor, please look! Francis is going to turn everyone into xenos!
While they stood stunned, Francis walked out from among the Ork boys, holding a helmet in his hand.
"As long as you wear this, you'll know who Alpharius is!"
Looking at Francis's sincere eyes, they asked in confusion, "Is it that simple?"
"Yes! It's that simple." Francis nodded, then asked, "How are your psychic bombs coming along?"
Ferrus stared blankly at the helmet in his hand, then pointed to the spherical object beside him. "The power is too great, and it's not stable enough. But it's basically usable..."
Suddenly, Ferrus seemed to remember something. He grabbed Francis's hand. "What are you going to do?"
Francis bared his Ork tusks and chuckled. "What else? I was just too bored. Going for a stroll. I'll be back in a bit! Oh, and this is for you. In case you run into Fulgrim, it's best if you drink it beforehand."
As he spoke, he threw a few bottles of silver potion to them. The bottles landed in Ferrus's and Perturabo's hands.
"What is this?"
"Drink it and you'll find out!"
Francis drank his potion down in one gulp. His originally green Ork skin immediately turned silver, shimmering with a metallic luster.
Francis struck a bodybuilding pose. "How is it? Isn't it super cool! This stuff lasts for a day!"
Ferrus looked at his hand, then at Francis's appearance, his eyes even more confused. "How could this be?"
Seeing this, Perturabo quickly drank a bottle. The same effect appeared on him, his skin taking on a metallic sheen. "Hoo! That's quite a kick! Ferrus, so this is how you've always felt! Exhilarating!"
Seeing Ferrus looking utterly broken, Francis patted his shoulder. "Brother, embrace evolution! Don't be conservative while you're young."
"Don't be a conservative... while you're young..." Ferrus kept muttering.
These two phrases were like a spell, prying open the hidden thoughts in Ferrus's mind. Many ideas he had subconsciously ignored were now constantly surfacing. Psychic technology, causality technology, and other techniques, he seemed to remember they were on Terra.
When he came back to his senses, Francis was gone. Only Perturabo was still there, constantly testing his new metallic skin's strength. He repeatedly cut his arm with a chainsword, countless sparks and flashes erupting, until the chainsword itself was worn flat. Not a single scratch was left on his body.
"This is too powerful! So good!" Perturabo exclaimed. He even struck the pose of Rodin's 'The Thinker.'
Ferrus stared at him in silence.
When he looked around again, he felt a surge of panic. "Where's the psychic bomb?"
He grabbed Perturabo with extreme alarm. "Where's Francis? Where's the psychic bomb? And why are their ships gone too?"
"Didn't he just go for a stroll? Why isn't he back yet?" Perturabo turned to look at the empty landing field, also looking bewildered.
"That's what I'm asking you! Where did he go?"
The two looked at each other, feeling awkward.
Finally, Ferrus spoke with hesitation. "Do you want to go first, or should I?"
"I'll go. Hmph! My Iron Warriors will never have traitors! Only those who aren't ruthless enough, like you, would have Alpharius mixed in." Perturabo gave the other a contemptuous look.
"Then you go first." Ferrus handed over the helmet expressionlessly.
Perturabo didn't really want to take it, but he couldn't refuse. Finally, with no other choice, he gritted his teeth, put on the helmet, and walked toward the Iron Warriors' camp.
Everything appeared normal before him. The Iron Warriors were enjoying a rare period of rest, currently forging various structures and equipment.
Seeing this, Perturabo turned back with even greater pride. "See, I told you. There are none here."
At the moment Perturabo relaxed, hundreds of Iron Warriors, dozens of mechanical motorcycle riders, battleship repair personnel, and several Dreadnought pilots all uniformly pulled out their weapons and fired at Perturabo.
The other Iron Warriors were stunned. They immediately pulled out their bolters and shouted at the attackers, "What are you doing? This is rebellion!"
However, the attacking warriors didn't care if they would die. All of them screamed madly, "We are all Alpharius!"
"You're all damn traitors! Alpharius, I'm going to kill you!"
Perturabo's eyes burst with rage. He shouldered his electromagnetic cannon and fired directly at the infiltrators. The enemy's bolter rounds hitting Perturabo were completely harmless against his metallic skin. Once he caught these infiltrators, he would tear them to shreds.
A massive Dreadnought, wielding multi-melta guns, cleared the surrounding obstacles before charging directly at Perturabo.
"Even veterans are traitors!" The thought nearly made Perturabo's mind explode with anger. "They've rebelled! They've all rebelled!"
The utterly enraged Perturabo directly overturned the Dreadnought, smashing through its hatch with a single punch and tearing out the Alpharius operative inside, who had been reduced to a limbless torso.
For a time, flames soared into the sky, and suicidal attacks erupted everywhere across the camp.
Just as the battle was nearing its end, the Iron Hands heard the commotion and rushed over. They, too, were utterly bewildered when they saw the scene of destruction.
"What's going on? What happened to the Primarch and the others?"
Before anyone could figure out the situation, some warriors among the Iron Hands suddenly changed their expressions. Before anyone else could react, these warriors opened fire with frantic point-blank bolter volleys at their own brothers.
And they, too, were shouting, "We are also Alpharius!"
Ferrus, who had been helping the Iron Warriors deal with infiltrators, instantly turned ashen with rage. He roared madly, "Alpharius, I'm not done with you!"
Because there were even more infiltrators here, at least a thousand warriors had been compromised.
In the Warp
Meanwhile, in the Warp, on an unknown planet:
"They should be able to handle it, right? Hiss hiss..." Francis kept stroking his chin thoughtfully.
Actually, that helmet couldn't distinguish who Alpharius was at all. Its actual purpose was to awaken creatures with a trigger phrase implanted in their consciousness and issue attack commands to them.
"Hmm, it should be fine! Probably."
At this moment, Sarpedon walked over, extending his massive Ork head. "Boss, why are we here?"
Francis pointed to the blue, bird-like daemons outside. "See them? It's those kinds of daemons. Beat them into submission and stuff them into a sack."
He paused, then added, "Forget it, I'll go with you."
For some reason, after the Soul Drinkers turned into Orks, their intelligence had noticeably decreased, just like real Orks.
Several blue daemons were playing a game together when they suddenly saw a squad of Orks charging toward them in the distance.
"Hehehe, how about we play a game this time to see who can trick the Orks into fighting each other?"
"Hehehe, good, good."
The daemons laughed at each other, fireballs igniting in their hands behind their backs. The tallest daemon among them stood up. It was covered in blue feathers but had limbs like a lizard.
"Hey, Ork. I have a question. Do you want to... Ah ah ah ah!"
Before it could finish its question, Francis punched it in the face. At the same moment he struck, all the other daemons threw their fireballs at their companion, then scattered and fled in panic.
"Isn't that idiotic? You think I'd listen to your questions?" Francis grabbed the daemon's neck and threw it into a cage made of psychic bone.
"Boys, chase them quickly! Don't let them escape!"
"Waaaaaagh! Charge! Pluck their bird feathers!"
On the already small planet, thousands of Orks chased six or seven daemons, crashing through everything in their path. They caught the daemons in no time.
"Hehehe, you will be cursed by the Chaos God!"
"You're all—"
"Boss, what are we catching them for?" Sarpedon asked in confusion.
Francis pointed in a direction where an incredibly massive brass wall stood. Along the way, there were red daemon worlds everywhere. Even from a great distance, they could hear the constant screams of daemons coming from that direction.
"What do you say if we deploy the psychic bomb there, and then throw these guys down?"
"Isn't that very Waaaaaaaagh!"
[End of Chapter]