Drama (Aftermath)

"It's actually much more than that," Roboute Guilliman thought.

But he didn't say it aloud; he maintained the appropriate and necessary silence. Some things are not suitable to be said, at least not now.

"I don't think this is hard for you to understand," he said.

Karyl raised an eyebrow.

"Is this considered a compliment?" He shook his head. "But you should know I won't accept it, right?"

"What is it? This compliment, or my suggestion?"

"I'd like to answer with both, but you've already given me a limited range of choices, which is cunning, my friend. So, I'll choose the former, Roboute." Karyl smiled slightly. "I personally don't like politics much."

Roboute Guilliman sighed slowly.

A storm seemed to sweep through those calm blue eyes, flashing by in an instant and vanishing without a trace, leaving only a serene sense of relief.

He put some things down and picked up others, and now, the giant sitting directly opposite Karyl looked like someone who had been weary for a very, very long time.

"How similar," Karyl thought thoughtfully.

"I don't like it either," Roboute Guilliman said calmly. "But it's the foundation for many things to function, so I have to learn it, become familiar with it, and then use it."

"Really?"

Roboute Guilliman slowly frowned. After those words, he realized that Karyl Lohars was once again observing him with that deadly gaze. For a politician, having his mind dug out was far more terrifying than having a hundred Boltgun pointed at him at once.

At least the latter can only kill you; they can't force you to reveal your true thoughts.

He groaned in pain.

"You're like a skilled excavator," Roboute Guilliman said in a low voice. "What are you trying to do? Pry into all the secrets of my heart?"

"I can accept that compliment," Karyl chuckled. "But relax, Roboute. I'll only know what I want to know, like the true meaning behind that invitation. I won't expose things like how you actually need this kind of responsibility to prove yourself."

"."

After a long silence, Roboute Guilliman chose to be honest. He had no choice but to be honest.

He spoke slowly.

"There are still many unexplored areas in the Ultima Segmentum, and the Emperor has granted me autonomy. I can do many things within this vast starfield with virtually no hindrance from Imperium laws. For example, I gifted two agricultural planets to one of my brothers."

"No reward without merit," Karyl said. (One of the ancient Terra proverbs.)

"The value of Adamantium is beyond your imagination, Karyl. Most of the time, it's the hardest currency of all," Roboute Guilliman said seriously.

"It's not just that we need it. If the Adamantium production on Nostramo is really as abundant as Konrad Curze says, then I can do many things with Adamantium, such as making trade with the Mechanicum."

"And now, the main commodity traded on this soon-to-be-opened trading route is Adamantium."

"Nostramo is in dire need of rebuilding and requires everything, including food. I can trade with you, but that is not a reason for me to take advantage of your misfortune. I cannot ignore the value of Adamantium and simply exchange it for supplies and personnel; I must provide compensation."

"So you're planning to use two agricultural planets as compensation?"

"Yes, that's why I invited you to participate in this exploration. The 'selection,' which involves instructors from the Eighth Legion, can largely silence some people."

He spoke with such conviction that Karyl couldn't help but laugh—clearly, Roboute Guilliman was thoroughly annoyed by those who talked about him behind his back. He didn't say it explicitly, but his words spoke volumes.

"How is it?" Roboute Guilliman asked expectantly.

"I can't think of a reason to refuse," Karyl said. "If we disregard the alliance, I would refuse your proposal. But if we take that into account, I have no reason to refuse."

"So, you agree?"

Just like I said.

Karyl stood up with a smile and extended her right hand to him, "I can't think of a reason to refuse."

Roboute Guilliman did not immediately complete this ancient ritual; he stood up and remained silent for a while before speaking.

"Can we do this in another way?" he asked, sounding slightly awkward.

--

The instruments beeped, and the disinfectant smelled pungent, but that wasn't a problem for Van Cleef, since he could only faintly detect the odors. His nose and tongue weren't fully reconstructed yet, and his sense of smell depended on them to function properly.

He let out a soft hissing sound from his throat, not unlike the usual greeting of the Nostramo people. However, he did this not because he wanted to greet anyone, but because his voice was gradually recovering.

The tingling and itching sensation was so intense that he needed to use this method to make himself feel better.

Having done this, he laboriously raised his right hand. The pulsating nerves and muscles on the massive bone were being reshaped at a visible speed, and blood surged, flowing into the unobservable interior.

Van Cleef stared at the horrific scene, thoughtfully flexing the five fingers of his right hand, which were now fully mobile, and the nerves and muscles at the front of his forearm also began to move.

Seeing this, a slight smile finally appeared on his pale and weak face.

"I promised I'd fix you, Van Cleef," said a giant sitting beside him. "And you see now, your body is slowly recovering—so, don't you really want to get a sedative and take a nap?"

Van Cleef opened his mouth, intending to speak, but instead protruded a few times with his broken tongue, spitting out a few charred teeth. He held them in his right palm before speaking; his voice was eerie, but at least he could make a sound.

"I'm sure," he said with difficulty. "The dosage of the sedative will keep me asleep for at least eight hours. The Ultramarines' medics won't skimp on the medication."

His reasoning made Karyl chuckle—he wasn't sure if Van Cleef was joking, but the statement was certainly quite humorous.

"You'll be fully recovered in four more hours," Karyl said. "So, I guess your plan is to return to the base without wasting a single second?"

"Yes," Van Cleef hissed.

Don't get me wrong, he certainly wasn't speaking Nostraman; it was just the breathy sound in his throat that made it sound that way. To be honest, his voice sounded quite unpleasant now.

But Karyl didn't care.

"So, how do you plan to explain this to them?"

Van Cleef shook his head, his neck a patchwork of white and red flesh spreading out.

"They won't ask," he said. "At least, no one except Xianni will."

"Not asking doesn't mean they don't have questions."

"I'll handle it," Van Cleef said firmly. "You don't need to worry about it."

Karyl stared at him without saying a word.

Van Cleef's two hearts pounded incessantly between the plate-like bones, making a monotonous, interlocking sound. The bed was still covered in blood, but it was no longer a sticky mixture of flesh and blood; rather, it was the residue left by the destruction of what remained when the new flesh healed.

"I'm sorry," Karyl said in a low voice.

"You don't need to apologize," Van Cleef replied calmly. "You're not the only one who failed in their duty."

I'm stuck -- this part is so hard to write, I'm going to fast forward.

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