2nd Primarch

"Boss Bonebreaker?! You escaped from the Shrimp Fleet?!"

A few days later, Saraka suddenly reappeared on the battlefield, where the orcs were embroiled in civil war.

His appearance had undergone a dramatic transformation. Not only was he taller and more imposing, but vivid red lines, resembling interlocking wheels, encircled his thick, muscled arms.

Most of the orc leaders on the world of Organa were fiercely loyal to Bonebreaker. Upon seeing their boss return, they ceased their infighting, laid down their weapons, and gathered around him.

"Who am I? I am Bonebreaker Saraka!"

Hearing their leader's proud declaration, the orcs erupted into cheers, their cries echoing across the battlefield.

"Boss, how did you escape?!" one of the war leaders asked eagerly.

Saraka's eyes flickered with a momentary flash of confusion and pain, but the expression was gone as quickly as it appeared. He raised his chin and answered with his trademark arrogance.

"It was close! That monster dragged me back to the Shrimp Fleet, and I was so badly hurt I nearly died. But then... I saw him again."

"What?! You saw a god again?! Was it Brother Gork or Brother Mork?"

At this, one of the orcs leaned closer, his excitement barely contained.

"Neither," Saraka replied with a slow shake of his head. "It was Brother Du. He appeared before me and granted me his power, allowing me to fight my way free from the Shrimp Fleet!"

As he spoke, Saraka patted the red, wheel-like markings on his shoulders.

"Look here! This is the proof of his blessing!"

The orcs gasped in awe as Saraka spoke, his tone carrying the weight of divine revelation.

"Brother Du?" they echoed in confusion, their primitive minds struggling to process this unexpected proclamation.

Orc culture thrives on inertia, following the path of least resistance, and they rarely think deeply unless inspired by the Waaagh! field. Yet Saraka's words triggered something profound, and their thoughts naturally connected to the Waaagh! network.

Moments later, recognition dawned across their brutish faces.

"It's Brother Du!" exclaimed one war leader. "Brother Gork is brutal and cunning. Brother Mork is cunning and brutal. But Brother Du—he's both brutal and cunning!"

The orcs cheered again, their voices rising in a unified Waaagh! that seemed to shake the very air around them.

"Boss, you're so Waaagh!"

"That's right!" Bonebreaker declared, basking in their adulation. "These setbacks are nothing. Bigger battles lie ahead. I'll follow Dugo's revelation, become his greatest preacher, and unite all orcs under Waaagh! Only a true boss can lead us to the most brutal, Waaagh-filled conquests the galaxy has ever seen!"

His booming voice carried conviction, and the orcs around him fell silent before erupting into another resounding Waaagh!

"Boss Bonebreaker, I want to follow you!"

"Me too!"

"And me!"

The thunderous cheers grew louder, and, one by one, the overlapping red wheel-like marks began to appear on the shoulders of more orcs. These markings, believed to signify Dugo's favor, became totems worshiped by the green-skinned hordes. Millions of orcs began to believe that with Dugo's blessing, they were invincible.

High Orbit above Organa – Imperial Fleet

Onboard the command ship, Dukel sat in his office, his expression calm yet thoughtful as he felt the ever-growing number of orcs connecting to the Heart Network.

In the Warhammer universe, creating a localized network can shield a community from corruption, but it also carries great risks. If the network is infiltrated, the consequences are catastrophic.

Corrupt one node, and the entire network can fall like dominos. Every individual connected becomes vulnerable, manipulated like prey caught in a spider's web.

This was why Dukel was meticulous in screening those allowed into the Heart Network. Even those blessed by the Emperor himself underwent rigorous scrutiny to avoid tainting its purity.

Yet now... he was the one invading their network.

Amused at the irony, Dukel thought, If I'm corrupting someone else's network, so be it. Let's see how far we can push this.

By expanding the network to include orcs, Dukel reaped enormous benefits. The Waaagh! force field, infused with ancient tech from long-forgotten saints, funneled raw power toward him.

As a Primarch, he took the lion's share of this profit—99.98%, to be precise. The remaining 0.02% strengthened Saraka, steadily turning him into the galaxy's most formidable warlord.

Back in his office, Dukel picked up a quill and pointed it at the wall.

"I decree this pen can shoot lasers," he said calmly.

A thin beam shot from the quill's tip, leaving a small scorch mark on the wall.

"Not bad," Dukel murmured, nodding in satisfaction. The Waaagh! field's reality-warping power had limitless potential, and he planned to harness every ounce of it.

Meanwhile, in the depths of his analysis, Dukel reflected on the Waaagh! network's gods. Gork and Mork—venerated by orcs for millennia—were now like outdated software integrated into the network. Once mighty, they were now mere echoes of their former glory, their growth permanently stunted by the very network they ruled.

"Give them face, and they're Brother Gork and Brother Mork," Dukel mused. "Take that away, and they're just Little Gork and Little Mork."

Unfazed, Dukel dismissed any concern about potential retaliation. After all, they were locked in the same chaotic cycle, incapable of transcending their limitations.

With the Waaagh! field now feeding into his plans, Dukel continued refining his biomagnetic and psychic training techniques, using the orcs' resources to further his own ambitions.

And so, under the guise of Dugo's favor, Saraka and his Waaagh! grew stronger, setting the stage for a new chapter in the galaxy's endless wars.