Eldrad's words floated in the air, carrying the distinct cadence unique to the Aeldari.
Upon hearing this, Guilliman slowly moved his hand away from the hilt of the Emperor's Sword.
His expression gradually turned solemn.
"Speak," Guilliman said, his voice returning to its usual composure.
At this moment, the Imperial Regent had no desire to pursue the Aeldari Farseer's uninvited arrival.
After all, having been visited time and again by Adam in all sorts of elusive and unbelievable ways, Guilliman had developed a considerable immunity to such entrances.
Besides, the last time this Farseer had appeared, he had descended from the sky right when Guilliman was standing on the parade podium delivering a speech to the people of Macragge. By contrast, at least he had picked a private occasion this time and actually knew to use the door.
That was considerable progress.
Furthermore, as a Primarch, Guilliman possessed supreme confidence in his own safety, not to mention that he had already silently dispatched a signal the moment the intruder entered.
All these factors combined allowed him to temporarily lower his guard and listen to what this point-eared xenos had to say.
"It is like this... This must perhaps begin with our race's Fall," Farseer Eldrad began.
He opened his narrative in the recitative tone characteristic of Aeldari Farseers.
In a chanting cadence, the old Farseer glossed over the details of the Aeldari falling to Slaanesh, focusing his narrative entirely around the concept of "Yneead."
He laid it all out using the poetic language customary to his kin, and even though he tried his best to keep it concise, it still took quite a while.
Guilliman remained silent.
Yet, relying on his superhuman processing power as a Primarch, he quickly grasped the core points from the long-winded speech.
"Since the Aeldari are so certain of victory, having successfully recovered all your race's artifacts to awaken your deity, you surely haven't come all this way just to flex your authority in my face, have you?"
"So, you can state your true purpose now."
His voice was not loud, but it carried an unyielding sharpness. "As an alien, what request are you making of me, the Regent of the Imperium of Man?"
"I wish to meet with that being," Farseer Eldrad said slowly, as if making a monumental decision. "The newly emerged deity within the Imperium of Man. I need to have a proper conversation with him."
As he spoke, a bitter taste welled up in the heart of the over twenty-thousand-year-old Farseer.
To be honest, he had wanted to make contact with this entity for a long time.
Long ago, Eldrad had faintly detected a variable that shouldn't have existed in prophecy at all. Looking back now, it was precisely the grand work wrought by this newly emerged god of humanity.
However, how to put it...
The Aeldari still relied far too heavily on prophecy.
Even a wise elder like Eldrad, who ranked among the absolute best of his kind, could not break free from this instinctual reliance.
When he discovered that his psychic prophecies could not accurately predict the outcome of a meeting with this human god, Eldrad had been thoroughly baffled on the spot.
That made it impossible for him to gamble his chips on a completely uncertain event.
After all, in old Eldrad's experience, every god in this universe—whether the Emperor, the Deceiver, the Four Chaos Gods, or even the Aeldari's own Laughing God—
If you lumped all of them together, their collective credit score probably wouldn't even be enough to unlock a shared bicycle.
Perhaps only that god who didn't quite understand the Orks yet—the so-called Gork and Mork duo—might warrant a slight question mark in his mind, leaving him uncertain.
Naturally, this newly emerged god of humanity was on his watch list as well.
Thus, Eldrad had chosen to wait and observe cautiously.
However, he never imagined that after waiting just a short while, the galaxy would undergo such a cataclysmic shift.
Everything happening in the galaxy today left the two-ten-thousand-year-old Farseer completely overwhelmed.
And now, the situation was vastly different.
Having repeatedly reviewed his previous actions without finding a single flaw, Eldrad now had no choice but to pin his hopes on this god intervening.
At the very least, he needed to figure out what exactly had gone wrong with his plans.
"I see. You want to meet him," Guilliman nodded, then corrected him earnestly on one point. "However, I must remind you that he is not a god. He has admitted this himself."
Eldrad froze.
A highly subtle expression appeared on his pale, elegant face.
Fine.
You're telling me a being who burned Nurgle's Garden, slew Vashtorr and completely absorbed his essence, and wiped out the entire Eye of Terror single-handedly—is not a god?
"Very well, I have no desire to debate this point with you," Eldrad quickly set the topic aside.
After all, ten thousand years ago, he had met the Master of Mankind in person, and the Emperor had said the exact same thing back then.
Regarding statements from these "godly figures," he had already built up a certain degree of mental preparation.
Ah, yes—classic!
"I merely hope to meet with him as soon as possible," he concluded.
"Is that so," Guilliman raised his head slowly.
His gaze passed over the old Farseer's shoulder, looking toward the office door.
The door had been opened silently at some unknown moment, and a figure was strolling inside with a cheerful stride.
Behind the completely oblivious Farseer Eldrad, the newcomer raised a hand to his lips, making a shushing gesture at Guilliman.
Guilliman's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly.
Yet as the Imperial Regent, he was now capable of keeping a straight face under such circumstances.
He withdrew his gaze, letting it fall back on Eldrad, and smoothly continued the conversation.
"Regarding your request, I can notify him. You may indeed meet with him."
He paused, as if weighing his words. "However, we need to further confirm the matters concerning the God of Death."
"This is not just your affair; it is bound to be closely tied to the fate of humanity."
"Impossible," Eldrad was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head.
As a proud Aeldari Farseer, he would naturally never allow such a thing.
"These are merely hesitations in my own mind; it does not mean I will allow you to compromise the future of the Aeldari."
"At this moment, I have already handed all the Croneswords over to the envoy of Ynnead."
He raised his chin slightly. "I came here merely to—"
Then he stopped.
Eldrad's mouth remained half-open.
Yet the latter half of his sentence caught right in his throat. His pupils dilated slightly, and for the first time, a look of unhideable bewilderment surfaced on his pale face.
He spun around sharply, coming face-to-face with the figure who had been standing behind him for who knows how long.
Adam leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, flashing a smile at him.
Eldrad's senses snapped to absolute alertness in an instant.
At this moment, he frantically racked his memory and recent perception, only to realize he couldn't determine when on earth this guy had appeared here.
Is this... the god of humanity?