Interlude 128: Roboute Guilliman, and Roboute Gui

Liman's First Meeting

"Safety is safety, and regret is regret."

Jago Sevatarion heard his instructor say this, his voice perfectly natural.

"Damn, you're absolutely right, buddy. I've been telling those young bastards for over a decade to wear helmets when they're working, but they just wouldn't listen and even laughed at me for being too cautious! And what's the result? Accidents happen every year!"

A repairman in a dirty dark blue uniform, carrying a toolbox, indignantly agreed with him, even raising his fist in greater agreement.

"."

Silently, the Midnight Blade's Chapter Master removed his helmet, revealing a face filthy with sweat and enemy blood.

He looked down and glared at the old man who was wasting both his and the repairman's time chatting away, and began to speak softly.

Are you reciting some safety rules?

The repairman shuddered in panic, turned around, and looked at himself with a mixture of fear and bewilderment—he had no idea that Sevatar had been standing there listening to their conversation for almost twenty minutes.

Karyl simply smiled in response.

He reached out and patted the repairman on the shoulder, telling him in his hometown dialect not to worry. Then, he casually slipped a cigarette that the repairman had given him, this "fellow townsman," not long ago back into the man's shirt pocket.

The repairman was completely unaware of this and walked on, looking back every few steps. As he approached the end of the corridor, he even shouted to Karyl amidst the roar of the ship's engines.

"Just say what's on your mind! I'll go tell the Ultramarines! I've heard the Night Lords have terrible tempers!"

Karyl couldn't help but smile and nod at him, then looked at Sevatar and shrugged with a rather strange expression.

"It seems he sees you as one of those Astartes who meddles in mortal affairs."

"What I need now is a matter for a mortal," Sevatar replied in a muffled voice.

Karyl took a step back, bowed, and suddenly adopted a cautious expression. "Very well, then what is it, Your Excellency Jago Sevatarion?"

"You old fool—" Sevatar took a deep breath. "—Never mind, come with me."

He casually slung his helmet onto his belt and walked into the darkness. Karyl quickly followed, actually walking behind him. They soon left the darkness, but what appeared next to Karyl was someone he hadn't expected.

Roboute Guilliman.

Or rather, a monster version of Roboute Guilliman, and a little special, well, not just a little, because he doesn't have any vengeful spirits around him.

Karyl narrowed his eyes and silently approached the giant who was sitting awkwardly on the sofa, staring blankly at the book in his hands, letting out a cough to announce his presence.

Roboute Guilliman suddenly raised his head.

"Wait—you, no, I," he uttered a series of hurried sounds, then stood up in a panic, stuffed the book in his hand into his pocket, and began to explain.

"I am not Roboute Guilliman!"

He shouted this, and only half a second later did he realize that Jago Sevatarion was there. He looked incredulously at the expressionless Sevatar, then at Karyl, his expression gradually becoming blank.

"Huh?" He couldn't help but utter a question.

"So, you're the instructor that the Captain of the Sevatarion Chapter Master mentioned?"

"I know, I am a bit short," Karyl nodded. "But I can teach a thing or two, like the Terra Paleobiographies, all that old-fashioned stuff, nobody wants to learn that stuff anymore."

Roboute Guilliman accepted his explanation with a complicated expression, then took a deep breath and said, "I'm here to see him."

"Who?" Karyl asked back, even deliberately making a puzzled face.

Roboute Guilliman continued to give him that bewildered look.

Sevatar, who stood expressionless behind Karyl, sighed noticeably before giving his reply.

"Roboute Guilliman, what else am I supposed to do? Suddenly I've become a fully human adult? Can you stop with this ridiculous, obvious question?"

"Time is of the essence! As soon as we rendezvoused with the fleet, I put this on the agenda. Lord Macragge will arrive at this room in about ten minutes. Don't you intend to use this time to get to the bottom of the situation?"

Karyl smiled slightly at the tense-looking Roboute Guilliman, then turned to explain to Sevatar.

"I understand your concerns, Jago, but I don't think we need to worry about this—I mean, whether I'll misunderstand the situation."

"Besides, please, Sai, I'm not so old that my brain is senile. Even if I don't know what he is, I can still tell what he is."

"Also, dear First Reserve, what exactly happened to make your emotions so unstable?"

Sevatar silently took his helmet off his belt and slowly put it on.

I understand.

Karyl repeated the words to him and looked again at Roboute Guilliman, recounting to him everything that had happened not long ago at the Macragge's Honour.

He recounted the story in a straightforward manner, without any embellishment, making it seem as if he were using a knife to dissect the matter, with non-existent blood and gore scattered at his feet.

Finally, under Roboute Guilliman's extremely complex expression, Karyl announced the end of his story by suddenly clenching his fists and pulling them into his sleeves.

"Anyway, that's it." He turned and winked at Sevatar. "Therefore, your existence is really nothing special to us, and you don't need to worry about any additional explanations."

"I—" Roboute Guilliman took a deep breath. "—I'm worried about something else, Instructor."

Karyl wagged his finger at him. "Just call me Instructor, please. Or just call me by my name, Karyl, isn't that easy to pronounce?"

Roboute Guilliman didn't speak again. Perhaps he wanted to say something, but he couldn't. There were probably two reasons for this: first, Karyl's current personality was completely different from what Sevatar had told him on the way; second, it was because of a door that had been manually pushed open.

A giant dressed in Archon uniform entered the room with a frown, his eyes shining like daylight. He closed the door behind him, Roboute Guilliman hurriedly stood up, wanting to say something, but found himself speechless. His actions only made his expression more complicated.

The giant glanced at Karyl and Sevatar before looking at him, and spoke slowly and calmly.

"In the past, without a fight, interrogation, and at least ten to fifteen days, my company commanders would never have agreed to let me come here to meet you."

"Moreover, they will most likely use various methods to check you out before you and I officially meet, which may make you feel unnecessarily offended. I'm glad we can avoid these formalities, but I still have some questions for you."

"Please ask," Roboute Guilliman replied quickly, his voice trembling slightly.

Do you understand the difference between Astartes and mortals? I mean, the differences between them.

I understand.

Please explain in detail.

Roboute Guilliman took a deep breath, began to organize his thoughts, and then launched into a long, uninterrupted discourse, even offering his own interpretation.

"I believe that the Astartes are significantly superior to mortals in their life form, in every respect. Their strength, intelligence, lifespan, and even willpower are far superior to those of mortals."

"But I don't think that means they are superior to ordinary people. They are born from ordinary people. Perhaps some are not, but most come from the ordinary and stand out to become transformed superhumans."

"Even if the transformation is not yet complete, they can still fight a hundred against one. However, I absolutely do not believe that Father—I'm sorry— the Emperor created Astartes to enslave mortals or to make them their rulers."

"The galaxy is strange and cruel, and mortals need protectors. Although they are strong and resilient enough, they still need a new kind of weapon and shield to resist the darkness in this universe."

"Therefore, in the Emperor's vision, or in my own imagination, the Astartes are such weapons and shields, created to help others—those who cannot fight, cannot protect themselves."

After he finished speaking, he exhaled a long breath and then waited for the giant's reply, as if he were awaiting the final verdict of a Judgment.

A genuine unease lurked on his young face, a unease he thought he concealed well, but the truth was quite the opposite. Karyl dared say that everyone in the room except him could see right through his disguise.

Opposite him stood the giant, an old man with a full head of white hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His face was expressionless, and he showed no emotion whatsoever, all of which was kept hidden deep within his heart.

Karyl had intended to say that this would be interesting.

After all, this was a meeting between one Roboute Guilliman and another Roboute Guilliman. Young and old, seasoned and inexperienced. They might become enemies, but Karyl felt they would definitely become friends.

Unfortunately, this was impossible. Whether or not Jago Sevatarion used psychic powers to speak with him afterward was irreversible. Ultimately, this young blond boy was born from the evil magic of Chaos.

This alone makes it difficult for him to have the right to survive.

+ Three days, Karyl. He spent three days on his journey here devising a solution. +

What is the solution to this problem?

Regarding those worlds engulfed in war, and the "Roboute Guilliman" wreaking havoc upon them, our observations and speculations on Calth have come true, and I believe you have likely received many reports as well.

That's true, so what's the solution?

Sevatar's next words made Karyl frown, and another voice rang out in the room.

"I agree with you," said the Lord of Macragge.

He strode forward, extended his right hand, and shook hands with Roboute Guilliman. The latter looked bewildered, but his expression conveyed more of a joy at being recognized.

The former.

Karyl sighed, leaned back, closed his eyes, and drifted into the darkness, lost in thought.

His humanity grew stronger day by day, and it seemed that after retrieving some fragments, the glacier, which had been broken and melted, could begin to recover on its own.

He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, after all, at certain times, a heartless, unwavering killing machine is a hundred times more decisive than a merciful killer.

As he pondered these things, a wisp of consciousness drifted along, and in the night wind that rushed towards him, he quietly entered a cemetery. A giant with his back to him was shoveling dirt, and beside him was a newly made, open, uncovered stone coffin.

Karyl gave him a silent greeting, and the man turned around with a face full of complaints.

"You're just trying to run away again, as usual," Konrad Curze Curze accused mercilessly. "What? Are you reluctant to see the impending sacrifice?"

He shook his head, threw away the shovel in his hand, and suddenly let out a cold laugh.

"Now I finally understand, Father. Your past coldness and ruthlessness were nothing more than a self-protective mechanism, just like your former obsessive sense of morality."

Karyl caught the shovel that flew at him, hoisted it onto his shoulder like a tree trunk, and walked toward Curze.

"I'm also quite paranoid now, can't you tell?"

"But at least you're no longer using it to demand things of everyone."

"You seem to have a lot more free time now that the war is over, Konrad Curze."

Karyl reluctantly jumped into the deep pit and began digging for him. Curze chuckled and squatted down at the edge of the pit, mocking him.

"What? You can't stand it after just two sentences? Or are you saying you don't want to dig a hole for yourself?"

Neither is true.

I sincerely need an answer.

Karyl plunged the shovel deep into the pit, pressing his foot against the edge to make it go even deeper. Then he looked up at Curze but said nothing, simply lowering his head to focus on his work.

A few minutes later, he pulled Curze by the hand and climbed out of the pit, his knees and boots covered in mud, not to mention his fingers. But the work was not over yet. Curze turned around, picked up the sarcophagus, and carefully placed it into the pit.

A night breeze swept by, ruffling their similar black hair. Karyl looked up at the moonlight that seemed to appear out of nowhere in the dark sky and suddenly asked a question.

When do you think he will arrive?

"How would I know?" Curze shrugged and replied. "But I'll keep waiting."

He smiled and stepped back, disappearing into the deep night, leaving behind only a soft utterance.

"After all, he's already a hero."