The Primarch received Alex in a reception room.
The reception room was simply and plainly furnished.
A large wooden table held data-crystal pillars and governmental documents.
Several well-read books were stacked at the corner of the table.
The Primarch sat in a large chair behind the table.
When Alex entered, he stood up from the chair and walked over to shake his hand.
"Welcome, Guide."
Guilliman's attitude was very warm.
"I apologize for placing you last."
"But I absolutely had no other intention, I just wanted to have a little more time to chat with you."
After the battle, Guilliman dismissed everyone, choosing to be alone to calm himself down.
Guilliman was a Primarch after all, with an incredibly strong ability to withstand pressure.
He quickly emerged from his feelings of loss and pessimism,
and fulfilled his duty as the Emperor's son.
He had successively met with Calgar, representatives of the Eldar Death Guard, Woldaes, the Living Saint, and others,
learning about the current state of the Human Empire from them.
During this time, Guilliman utilized every bit of his affability and cunning as a statesman,
striving to create a harmonious and friendly atmosphere,
allowing the other party to unconsciously reveal more information,
and perfectly concealing his own emotional fluctuations caused by their answers.
Everyone who had spoken with Guilliman left with smiles, infected by the Primarch's sincerity and optimism.
However, none of them noticed the deep-seated loss and pain in the Primarch's eyes.
The current state of the Human Empire was appalling: religious fanaticism, bureaucratic corruption, and rampant ignorance.
The Adeptus Mechanicus was becoming increasingly conservative; science and reason were completely gone.
Confusion and dread almost made Guilliman unable to breathe.
Grief and pain nearly brought him to tears.
But he dared not show it.
Because he was a Primarch, the Emperor's son,
the pillar in the hearts of those mired in despair; everyone was looking at him.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with such an arrangement," Alex replied, neither humble nor arrogant.
"Has anyone ever told you that you resemble my brother, Sanguinius?"
Guilliman observed the white wings behind Alex,
he instinctively wanted to reach out and touch them,
but then remembered that the other party was not his brother,
and suppressed the impulse.
"Many people say that, even those demons say that," Alex looked at Guilliman, "Are you thinking of your brother? And hoping I am him?"
Surprise and unease appeared on Guilliman's face, "You know what I'm thinking? Are you prying into my mind?"
"No," Alex shook his head, "Except for captives and enemies with important intelligence, I never use psychic abilities on others."
"Your thoughts are too strong; even without psychic abilities, I can hear your inner voice."
Guilliman breathed a sigh of relief,
"It seems I need to learn to control and protect my mind."
"You are not wrong; when you walked in, for a moment I thought you were Sanguinius."
"When I realized you truly weren't, a sense of loss spontaneously arose within me."
Alex walked to the window and looked through the stained glass at the rebuilding city of Macragge.
"It's human nature, understandable."
Guilliman also walked over,
"I never imagined waking up ten thousand years later; my memory is still stuck at The Battle of Thessala."
"My traitor brother pierced my throat with his sword, I listened to the desperate cries of my sons, and finally fell into a long slumber. When I woke up again, it was already ten thousand years later."
"I failed. I let down my father. I should have spent most of my energy on how to rebuild the Human Empire."
"Instead, I lost my reason due to anger, leading to the disastrous defeat at The Battle of Thessala."
Guilliman's words were filled with weariness and profound sorrow.
This was a side of him he would never show in front of others,
only because of Alex's unique nature, which made him see him as a substitute for his brother,
allowing him to speak freely and vent the emotions in his heart.
Alex listened, without answering.
He knew Guilliman just wanted an audience; he didn't need comfort or answers.
"My arrogance, along with that of my other brothers and my father, created the Human Empire of today."
"If Horus were still alive, I fear he would be gloating and mocking."
"The Human Empire, which we once placed our hopes in, has degenerated into a corrupt and bloated corpse, without a trace of reason or hope."
"Only fear, hatred, and ignorance sustain this zombie's last breath."
"I wish I had perished in The The Battle of Terra, rather than live to witness all of this."
Guilliman clenched his fist and punched the air fiercely, then subsided.
He didn't even dare to vent his anger,
because he was the only remaining banner of the Human Empire,
indulging his emotions was a luxury.
Speaking of The The Battle of Terra, sorrow resurfaced on Guilliman's face.
He could never forgive himself for not making it to The The Battle of Terra.
He was only nine hours away, yet he never made it.
By the time he arrived at Terra, the Chaos traitors had already been routed.
He had thought the Emperor had dealt with the traitors.
Upon reaching the ground, he learned what had truly happened.
The entire Terra Imperial Palace was reduced to ruins.
Bodies were piled upon bodies; the casualties were so horrific they defied description.
Sanguinius was dead, Malcador was also dead, and the severely wounded Emperor sat on the Golden Throne.
Several Astartes Legions were crippled, with only a handful of survivors.
Everything in the Human Empire was destroyed.
As Guilliman fell silent, Alex placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Lord Guilliman, look at the people outside; they are still rebuilding their homes with great enthusiasm."
"In this desperate era, they have not given up; they are still fighting tenaciously, unyielding even when surrounded by enemies."
"Hope still exists; we still have a chance to change all of this, and you will not be fighting alone."
"I was just venting briefly," Guilliman said. "Nothing can break a Primarch."
"That's good," Alex nodded.
"Tell me about yourself," Guilliman said. "You are full of mysteries, but I can be sure that you carry my father's aura; otherwise, I certainly wouldn't be telling you this."
"I am the Living Saint of the God-Emperor, His chosen one, so naturally I carry His aura," Alex said.
Guilliman shook his head. "Celestine is also a Living Saint, but she lacks something; I can't say what it is, but that is the difference between you and her."
"I heard them say that you are from the Calixis Sector, a sector opened after the Great Crusade, close to the Ghoul Stars. Why are you there?"
Alex also wanted to ask himself why he was there,
But no one answered!
He couldn't possibly say the Emperor threw him there casually, right?
"The Calixis Sector is near the Human Empire's frontier, and Terra's control there is weak, which helps me accumulate strength."
"Do you have an issue with Terra?" Guilliman asked.
"Power corrupts," Alex said. "I am currently pushing for educational reform in Atoma and innovating various technologies."
"And in the eyes of those guys, I'm probably still a Mutant."
Alex pointed to his wings,
"I don't want to be chased and beaten by the Ecclesiarchy, the Inquisition, and the Adeptus Mechanicus all at once."
"You are a Living Saint, my father's chosen one," Guilliman emphasized.
"The current Human Empire is so fanatical that if the Emperor were to wake up and oppose the Ecclesiarchy, He would be considered a Heretic and hit with two bolter rounds."
"As a half-baked Living Saint, wouldn't I be roasted into cumin chicken wings by them?"
Alex showed no reverence for the Emperor or the Human Empire,
Which surprised Guilliman but also made him feel relieved.
In this dark and desperate era, it is quite difficult to meet someone who is not fanatical and can communicate normally.
Calgar and others were overly reverent towards him, while Celestine was fanatical.
And those Eldar guys couldn't be trusted.
"My father hated religion the most; he believed religion poisoned humanity."
"Now he is worshipped as a god, and many evil deeds are carried out in his name. How ironic."
"If my father were to awaken, I fear the fastest to flee would be these religious personnel."
Guilliman showed a look of mockery,
Alex said, "Your words remind me of a cold joke."
"What joke?" Guilliman looked at Alex, showing a hint of curiosity.
Alex began to tell the joke he remembered.
"A Fabricator-General and an Archbishop were chatting, each boasting. The Fabricator-General said he had unearthed an STC that could produce a pill to revive the dead."
"The priest, in turn, boasted that the Ecclesiarchy could reach the Eye of Terror from Holy Terra in ten minutes, relying on the God-Emperor's faith."
"Later, when the Fabricator-General demanded proof, the Archbishop panicked and convened the high-ranking members of the Ecclesiarchy to discuss countermeasures."
"One priest then said, 'This is simple. You have the Fabricator-General bring the pill, and if the God-Emperor eats it and revives, the entire Ecclesiarchy can run from Terra to the Eye of Terror in less than five minutes.'"
Guilliman quickly grasped the irony of the joke.
His troubled face relaxed, and he smiled,
"That's a pretty good joke; I'm going to write it in my diary."
"As you wish," Alex said generously. "I won't ask you for royalties, but if you insist on giving them, I won't refuse."
"Then you'll be disappointed, because I won't give any," Guilliman said.
The two looked at each other and laughed.
A moment later, Guilliman made a subtle request.
"Guide, can you let me talk to my father?"
Alex looked troubled. "I don't have the ability to actively summon the God-Emperor,"
"But you can come with me to the shrine. When I receive my reward, you can call out, and perhaps He will respond."
Guilliman nodded. "Then let's try it."
Alex led Guilliman to the nearest shrine.
After he performed the aquila salute, a light hole appeared above the shrine as usual.
A Cherubim emerged from the light hole, carrying a huge metal box.
Inside the box was the legendary weapon Alex had obtained after completing the "Special Mission: Resurrect Roboute Guilliman."
Alex suppressed his excitement, turned to look at Guilliman, and gestured for him to begin.
Guilliman did as instructed, hoping the Emperor would provide guidance.
Alex had originally held no hope,
Because the Emperor had displayed miracles very rarely in the past ten thousand years.
But after Guilliman finished his prayer, countless voices sounded near the shrine,
As if a billion people were whispering at once.
The Cherubim, which should have flown back, stopped.
Golden light emanated from its eyes,
As bright as a star,
And as ancient as time itself.
The Cherubim looked at Guilliman and spoke, its voice full of majesty and power.
"Guilliman, my son, my tool."