Hayek's Chosen!

"I do not understand!"

"I don't understand either."

"Don't look at me, I understand even less."

Five years later, the four Primarchs have reunited on Terra. Compared to the chaos of five years ago, Holy Terra is much more normal now. At least there won't be any street brawls or Daemon gathering together.

As for whether there are truly no Daemon lurking in Holy Terra, it's hard to say!

But at least on the surface things were a bit normal, and it looked somewhat like the capital of Imperium of Man. But just when everything was looking up, that bastard Guilliman started causing trouble again.

When did he lose consciousness?

"A year ago, when you had just opened up the air route and transported the first batch of supplies to Terra, Guilliman complained to me that you would laugh at him when you came back. At that time, he was still eloquent, and his only flaw was that he was lazy. He would eat and then sleep, and he liked to gnaw on the wall and grind his teeth in the middle of the night."

This wouldn't have been a big deal. I knew how tired Guilliman was, so I thought I'd give him a break. That's why I told him to wait for you guys to come back and just make do for now. But he wouldn't listen and insisted on asking his father for help."

"There's something about Yellow Skins too?"

(Someone) looked up at the sky, at the Yellow Skins on the Golden Throne, but perhaps the excretion therapy was indeed effective, the Yellow Skins 12345 that had been pushed out to stand on the street was not so cowardly anymore, and immediately used a move called Divine Separation:

"Don't look at me like that. Don't you all know what's going on with me? I'm just taking the blame. Besides being able to speak, I can't even scratch my own butt."

As you can tell from my name, I am Emperor No. 12,345, and I just turned 300 years old this year. You mustn't make things difficult for me!

It was Guilliman's response, Emperor Number 1313.

What about number 1313?

"He's dead. He was ambushed from behind by Emperor Number 76. That long blade pierced his anus, and he died instantly."

If you ask me, it's a good thing that number 1313 died. That idiot had questionable sexual orientation. A person can't, or at least shouldn't, have such a thing. We're all Emperor, and he didn't even spare himself, having an office romance."

It was a perfect, unmistakable old Terra accent, and Mordred recognized every single word, but when they were put together, he couldn't understand a word. He even wanted to crawl inside the Yellow Skins's body to take a look and see what was going on inside.

But then I thought again and realized something was wrong. The Yellow Skins was just broken, not mutated. Since that so-called Emperor Number 1313 was a pervert, that meant...

"That's right, Emperor Number 1313's area of activity was in England; he is a fragment of a soul from the 19th century."

"Ah, that makes sense then. Different places nurture different people. Number 76 did a good job; they've rid the people of a scourge."

"Without"

Emperor Number 12345 paused for a moment, then revealed a rather chilling little secret: Emperor Number 1313 would not disappear; after death, he would be directly reborn and merge into the bodies of other Emperor on the spot.

A broken father, an abandoned mother, scattered brothers, a declining home, surrounded by enemies on the outside and turmoil within—the more lucid he became, the more painful it was. The Lion King's vision blurred; he suddenly felt this empire was doomed. Pointing at Guilliman, who was ostentatiously showing off his Peanut Butter, he complained:

"Look at him! All he does is eat and sleep. He even sneaks out of the Imperial Palace in the middle of the night to forage for food. He's gone missing four times in a year. I just want to chain him up. He's just like a Big Rat."

Guilliman, come here!

When his name was called, Guilliman stopped eating, wriggled his fat body and crawled in front of Zhuang Sen, opened his blood-red mouth wide, flicked his tongue, and revealed a seemingly wild yet innocent smile.

Zhuang Sen was unlucky. If you gave him a week to conquer a world, he could conquer a galaxy in three days. But if you asked him to handle government affairs, he would be completely Hajimi.

It was only because Guilliman had laid out the basic framework in advance, Ultramarines were numerous, plus the Adeptus Custodes Guards that Zhuang Sen had recruited to assist them, that the program could run smoothly for a year or two without any problems. Otherwise, the Empire, which had just caught its breath, would have been in trouble again.

Seeing Guilliman sniffing here and there in front of them, then finally slipping to Kialan's feet and turning to sleep, Mordred always felt that the world was against her.

"I just examined Guilliman, and apart from his lack of exercise and being overweight due to overeating, he's perfectly healthy. I understand all the reasons, so why doesn't he learn from his mistakes?"

I wrote it down in black and white, telling him to run for a maximum of two hours a day. I repeatedly reminded him, and I told him more than once, that he's clear-headed about important matters, but clueless about trivial ones.

Does this mean the world is just a giant sand sculpture, where everyone has a sudden flash of brilliant insight?

"So Guilliman is beyond saving, right? Why don't we just have a feast? Or we could build an amusement park and collect admission fees."

Without even thinking, Mordred kicked Sisyphus, who was saying auspicious words, away, picked up Guilliman, and walked towards the Golden Throne.

"He's perfectly fine; he just brought it on himself. If it were you, things wouldn't have turned out this way. Unless the Primarch agrees, even Chaos God can't do anything about it unless forced. You don't really think we're ordinary humans, do you?"

"Brain, use your brain! What kind of good person can survive in the void of space? We don't even need helmets. No, Guilliman needs a helmet; he could suffocate himself to death."

"Guilliman has made a fool of himself; he really thinks he's a rat."

As a veteran Imperial military doctor, Mordred had treated at least 800, if not 1000, difficult cases, including genetic mutations and Warp curses. But he had only seen a case like Guilliman's once before, and that person was Magnus.

When Mordred thinks of Magnus, he can't help but think of Magnus Fruit, a popping fruit cultivated in Nurgle's Garden that is exceptionally delicious. After seeing the truth, he was so disgusted by the taste that he ate it until his pony was speechless.

Amidst self-denial and doubt, Magnus transformed from a one-eyed, sunburnt Sunburned Ogryn into a one-eyed, faded Ogryn — the Primarch, a fantastical creature existing between science and the supernatural, even Orks than Orks- skinned creatures.

Fortunately, Mordred has a solution, and it's quite simple: she just needs to infiltrate Guilliman's consciousness and awaken him. The rest is just like the Emperor's personality excretion, expelling the excess pollution.

Just then, Mordred happened to find the Personality Excretion Device he had tailored specifically for the Yellow Skins right next to him. Without hesitation, he grabbed the toilet plunger and shoved it into Guilliman's head.

As for who should initiate the process, Mordred chose the more reliable older brother, whose mental strength was off the charts, over Sisyphus and Zhuang Sen, who were both eager to try.

After all, the battle record is verifiable. Even an ancient Xenos like Khrave couldn't do anything to Zhuang Sen. She tried to brainwash him but was instead invaded, resulting in her being exposed on the spot.

What about me?

"You?" Mordred was planning to leave Sisyphus, that unreliable guy, aside and give her a bag of sunflower seeds to eat while he went.

But seeing how eager it was to try, and worried that it might cause trouble when I wasn't around, I ultimately decided it was best to keep it with me.

"You will come with me into Guilliman's consciousness space."

"Great! I've been wanting to see what Guilliman's little secret is for ages."

"A little secret?"

Perhaps it triggered some keyword, Zhuang Sen's eyes suddenly sharpened, and Mordred found it quite difficult to see that he wanted it but was too embarrassed to say it.

"Go, all of you go, okay? It's just a matter of adding another pipe. Anyway, felines act on instinct, and they can run away even if you cut off their brains."

Guilliman may not have many other skills, but he's good at thinking things through and can hold back. Whether he inserts one or three, it's all the same. I believe he can do it.

But just to be on the safe side, we need to have a few people watch outside. It's a good opportunity to call the Ultramarines over so he can have a family member accompany him."

"I'm here for you, aren't I?"

A voice rang out from the Golden Throne, but it was subconsciously ignored by everyone; Mordred didn't even have the desire to speak.

Although the exact situation inside the Emperor is unknown, according to Goff and his resurrected offspring, there are countless Emperor inside the Emperor, more fragmented than the air in a Lay's potato chip.

This bunch of monsters came together and fought an Emperor Unification Wars that lasted a full 10,000 years. There were men and women, old and young, some who were not human and some who did not even know how to be human, but there were none of them who were anthropomorphic.

Even if Yellow Skins is broken, it's still Yellow Skins. Its reputation score is already negative. It's just that Emperor and Tzeentch the Deceiver are all together. These three can't even scan a shared bike. Their words are like farts.

Ignoring her biological father who couldn't even drop gold coins, Mordred inspected and modified the Personality Excretion Device, while Zhuang Sen and Sisyphus huddled together, discussing what little secrets they might discover from Guilliman next.

Since it was just adding an interface, Mordred completed the modification in no time. Upon receiving the order, Caldor took it very seriously and immediately brought his three henchmen over.

When these four burly men arrived in front of him, even Mordred couldn't help but gasp.

"I've seen all sorts of people in my life, but the three of you are truly one in a million! Could you be the legendary Hayek's Chosen? You are indeed handsome and talented, even your smiles are so sunny and cheerful."

Come on, why bring milk?

"Reporting to the Great Commander, I am Titus, former Second Company Captain Ultramarines."

"Great, very spirited! You look fearless. And who are you? You look familiar, like I've seen you somewhere before. Judging by your appearance, you must be a great basketball player. Can you fly a helicopter?"

Although it's unclear why the Great Commander brought up basketball and helicopters, the sharpshooter, Kailon, stated righteously:

"Reporting to the Great Commander, my name is Kailon, I graduated from the fourth class of the Catachan. You even awarded me a medal back then!"

"I remember now, you're that rascal who secretly raised little frogs and blew up the camp! No wonder you looked so familiar. And who is this brave warrior?"

Seeing that it was finally his turn, Sergeant Redhead Gadril immediately flashed his signature devilish smile, which was so striking that he could rival Adeptus Custodes three elite guards without even needing makeup.

"Reporting to the Great Commander, my name is Gadril, former captain of the battlecruiser Shangbeize, currently the Second Company's chief petty officer and interrogation chaplain, codename the Beast!"

"The Beast?! There are no wrong code names, only wrong names. Here, take this can of Muscle and Bone Strengthening Powder. Promise me you'll go to the gym less often."

When these three burly men appeared, along with Caldor, the ICU powerhouse, Mordred couldn't help but marvel at the abundance of talent among the Ultramarines. Guilliman's big butt was certainly good for childbearing!

Perhaps sensing Mordred's good mood, Caldor approached with a fawning expression and whispered, "Your Highness, I've completed all the tasks you entrusted to me, except for what you see with Titus..."

Seeing that Titus was dressed in all black and had chains symbolizing Blackshields wrapped around his arms, Mordred immediately understood. He went straight to Titus, pulled a Black Sword from behind his back, and handed it to him.

"Great Commander!"

"No need to say anything more, I know everything about you. As the Primarch, I also bear responsibility for Blood Ravens pulling down your pants. Here, take this Black Sword, how about I give you some face?"

As for Blackshields, just give up being a Black Shield and go back to Ultramarines. Roland told me that there aren't many people who can make Atlas submit to you.

"Caldor, do you think someone as fearless as Titus is suitable to be Captain?"

"Perfect, perfect! It's the perfect opportunity to dismiss that bastard Sicarius and send him to the Glory Guard to take over my job. It's like a double blessing!"

"Hahaha, Caldor, you bastard, so you don't want to retire in the Glory Guard, you've actually gone bad and found a scapegoat. I'm really pleased with you. Why don't you send Sicarius to me? I'm just about to form the Darktide Squad..."

"Can you train at Catachan for a few more years?"

"Of course! Let me flip through the Book of Grudges... Oh, it's here! Don't worry, I'm not only sending him to Catachan, but I'm also giving him special tutoring, with a veteran of the Long War providing one-on-one guidance."

"You're so heartless, Great Commander!"

You're not bad either!

"Hahaha" x2

Watching his former Chapter Master and Great Commander put their arms around each other, and how he could be exonerated with just a word, Titus felt a sense of unreality, but the Black Sword in his hand was real.

"What's wrong? You look so confused. If you don't like it, you can give me the Black Sword. I don't mind."

"I don't mind."

Distracted by his two good brothers, Titus realized what was happening, immediately slung the Black Sword behind his back, and pushed away the two unclean little hands that reached out.

"It's nothing, I just suddenly realized that the Primarch is a little different from what I imagined. Maybe it's because I've been with Blackshields for too long and I'm a bit out of touch with the times."

"Oh dear, I thought it was something serious. That's just how the Second Highness is. If you'd participated in the Great Crusade, you'd find that the Primarch isn't as saintly as the Imperial Cult portrays him, and even His Majesty is no exception."

As an ancient soldier, Kailon, though somewhat tainted by his age and preserved for millennia, still experienced the Great Crusade, believed in the Imperial Truth, and even set fire to the Perfect City. He doesn't have the kind of sacred filter that people in the modern era have for him.

"Remember, the era of the Primarchs has returned. Instead of thinking about those other things, think about that unfortunate fellow, Sicarius."

Seeing Kailon's gloating expression, Titus and Gadril, as members of the new generation, were very curious about what the Catachan training camp was really like.

Soon their curiosity would be dispelled, as the three Primarchs had already made their final preparations.

After drinking two cups of black tea, Guilliman, wearing a toilet plunger on his head, fell asleep immediately. With three wires still stuck in his extremely pert buttocks, he looked like a wild boar about to be plucked.

Are you ready?

"Ready!"

In an instant, lightning flashed, and the venerable Lion King raced rapidly from the roller, as three streams of light flowed through cables into Guilliman's body.

Meanwhile, Guilliman, who was tilling the fields in his mental world with a hoe, couldn't help but shudder.

I have a bad feeling!