Guilliman: Don't You Guys Have Moms?

For scholars of Old Terra, the question of what the human self truly is has always been a subject of ongoing debate.

Some say it's the brain, since humans are essentially controlled by hormones, and memories are stored in the synapses of neurons in the brain, which in turn determine a person's consciousness. Others say it's the soul.

With the rapid development of science and technology, technology has brought endless possibilities. Biological modification and synthetic prosthetics have freed humans from the limitation of a lifespan of just over a hundred years.

When the original organs are replaced one by one, and eventually even the brain is replaced with a more efficient synthetic electronic brain, can this individual still be called a human being?

The concept of the Ship of Theseus has never been outdated. The question of self-affirmation has always been a source of confusion for humanity, especially in this seemingly scientific yet magical world where the soul truly exists.

This is no longer a scientific question, but a philosophical one.

But for a self-centered, hardline mechanical materialist like Mordred, such mystical questions are not a concern.

In Mordred's view, existence is everything, and everything is for the sake of existence. The soul is the running program, and the body is the computer hardware. Only when the two coexist can they combine to form human beings.

As a hybrid, Mordred may be able to mimic the abilities of other Primarchs, but she also possesses their weaknesses, including those of Guilliman.

There's a story Primarch. When creating the Primarch, the Emperor made ample preparations, creating two backups in terms of function and characteristics, such as Dorn and Perturabo.

The Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists are so similar that it was even discovered in Mordred's Blasphemous Experiment that the Gene-Seed of the two legions are perfectly compatible.

In addition to the Warp components of the Gene-Seed, if a large lemon inoculated with Dorn seed enters the Iron Warriors, and no one points it out, everyone thinks he is the Iron Warriors, and he himself also believes he is the Iron Warriors, this infiltrated Imperial Fists will undergo a secondary mutation, becoming more and more like the Iron Warriors.

This is the most obvious example. As for which legion the Ultramarines correspond to, Mordred initially thought it was the Word Bearers, but after getting to know Guilliman better, he couldn't find a counterpart, but instead found a reverse reference.

Guilliman may seem like a weakling, but he actually has great potential. He is essentially a sub-god of the Warp, and with the genetic essence of the Emperor and Eldar, two Psychic Power, his Psychic Power level shouldn't be too low, even if it's not the best.

Guilliman, however, rejected everything, believing it to be unscientific, even though he had acknowledged that Mordred's witchcraft rituals were indeed effective.

So much so that when facing Magnus on the Luna, even having Rambo possess him to fight would have been better than him, and Rambo is just Dog-men, meaning that any dog could have played the game better than Guilliman playing Psychic Power.

In contrast, there is Mortarion.

Does Numerology have any scientific basis? The answer is no. After all, relying on a few numbers to become a fortune teller seems abnormal, yet this stuff is surprisingly effective.

Therefore, there is only one explanation: Mortarion copied the answer verbatim.

"So Numerology is fake?"

"It's fake, but it's also real!"

The three Primarchs wandered along the country lanes, stopping and starting. In this space of Guilliman's consciousness, everything he considered irrational ceased to exist. Even Mordred's flapping wings wouldn't work; it had to conform to aerodynamics to fly.

Furthermore, because this was the realm of the mind, and this was Guilliman's most straightforward thought, he refused Mordred's request for wings.

For this reason, after entering Guilliman's consciousness space, the three did not find Guilliman immediately, but instead got lost.

Fortunately, Guilliman acknowledged the Primarch, and the three siblings' stats remained intact, allowing them to search at superhuman speeds. It was during this walk and conversation that Sisyphus asked the question.

Even after Mordred's explanation, Sisyphus still didn't understand, and even Zhuang Sen, who was standing next to him, was confused.

"You can look at it this way: Numerology was summarized by Mortarion, and Mortarion, to put it bluntly, was illiterate."

When I brought Mortarion back, I gave him the same welcome-back gift package, just like Sisyphus, he wrote the same papers as you.

But all I saw was him fiddling with his fingers, muttering some strange things, and then he just wrote down the answer.

I asked him how he calculated it, and he said it was Numerology that told him. I asked him what Numerology was, and he said it was Numerology.

Do you know how I felt then? It was like seeing a fortune teller. And Mortarion really was a fortune teller; every single one of his answers was right.

"And Mortarion's Psychic Power is exceptional, second only to Magnus as a Psychic Power. Sisyphus never even saw the pony, Zhuang Sen, don't you understand?"

For Zhuang Sen, he had always considered Mortarion a difficult brother to get along with, even though he himself was the most difficult Primarch to deal with.

"When I first met Mortarion, I thought he was Shaman witch doctor, he was practically from Fenris, even Russ didn't look that savage."

Wearing a tattered hood and a small robe, his clothes jingled with tiny trinkets. He carried a giant stick in his hand and a large scythe on his back. He was eccentric and smelled a bit, yet there was a strange fragrance in his stench.

Especially his incense-filled attire; amidst the swirling smoke, all I could see was a pair of big white teeth smiling at me from under his hood. He came up to me with, "Your house exploded."

Isn't this disgusting? And now I realize, my house really did explode.

Sisyphus was greatly shocked. If what Zhuang Sen said was true, then his brother, whom he had never met, did not look like a human being at all.

"Who can argue with that?"

Is this true?

"Really," Mordred continued, "At first I didn't believe it. I thought it was just a coincidence. He didn't go into details about his past experiences, and I didn't ask him much about what his Xenos foster father had taught him."

So later I took Mortarion directly to the workshop, took out a 74N3 Plasma Engine Component Barbarus definitely didn't have, and had him assemble it for me."

Could it be that...?

Mordred nodded, his expression turning wistful. "Seven hours. He only took seven hours to build the engine, while it took me a full nine hours to build my first Plasma Engine, and this was the first time he had ever seen one like this."

From that moment on, I understood a principle: existence is everything, and everything exists for the sake of existence. I must learn Numerology.

Are my other brothers just as amazing?

Upon hearing this, Zhuang Sen and Mordred stopped abruptly. Sunlight swept across their blond hair, but their faces remained hidden in shadow.

"Yes, you have 17 more brothers and sisters like these, and even more amazing ones: one is our biological mother, and the other Yellow Skins. Which one would you like to hear about first?"

If she had a choice, Sisyphus wouldn't want to hear any of it, but the characteristics originating from Angron instilled a strong curiosity in her, driving her to want to know more:

"Let's start from the beginning, or rather, from the end to the beginning."

Mordred: "Sigh~ Alpharius!"

Zhuang Sen: "Hmm~ Omega!"

As the eldest Second Son continued their story, Sisyphus's expression became increasingly complex. In the end, she realized a crucial truth: there was no one normal except herself!

Happy times are fleeting, and even the vastness of the mind has its limits. Soon, the three discovered a castle hidden in the mountains and forests.

"Base..."

Shh! Don't disturb him.

Sisyphus was slightly puzzled. The man was right in front of her, so why didn't she wake Guilliman? Then she saw a woman in a long robe walking from afar, leading a dog.

"Carrot, take Mordred back and feed her some bread; she's tired from running around."

"Mother, Mordred never gets tired. Just feed her some leftovers; she won't starve."

"Carrot!" Euten squatted down, rubbing Guilliman's little face and scolding, "No matter what, Mordred is a life. Dogs are man's best friend. You can't treat him like this. And did you feed Koz when I told you to?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a fat, jet-black cat leaped down from the roof, purring as if to protest that it hadn't eaten enough. But its plumpness became Guilliman's excuse:

"Mother, listen to me, Koz can't eat anymore. Why don't we feed Koz to Mordred? We can use a cat to help a dog, thus resolving our dilemma..."

Although they were not close, the three people hiding in the bushes were no ordinary people. Sisyphus and Zhuang Sen looked directly at Mordred, while Mordred gritted her teeth in anger.

Am I really that worthless in your eyes? Guilliman, you bastard! You treat me like a dog, I can't take it anymore.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Mordred leaped to the castle, scooped up the handsome, dashing, and universally adored dog, and exclaimed:

"Guilliman, if you keep cursing me like that, believe me, I'll beat the shit out of you! You dare to abuse a dog behind my back—no, I mean, you dare to treat me like a dog, you..."

Mordred's insult immediately exposed Zhuang Sen and Sisyphus, who were hiding in the bushes. Now that things had come to this, they stopped hiding and went straight to the castle to watch the spectacle.

But their laughter soon faded, for upon seeing that the opposing side outnumbered them, Guilliman in his child form stood directly in front of Euten, hugged his mother, and roared:

"It's you again! Don't you have mothers?"

"..."