I'm Your Biological Son!
Think of something, Huron Blackheart, think of something!
You are the man who, through your wisdom, rose from exile to the throne of the Red Corsairs!
As Guilliman's figure, like a divine punishment descending, drew ever closer.
The heavy footsteps seemed to strike directly at his soul.
The Huron Blackheart forced himself to squeeze a sliver of clarity from his boundless fear.
He hardened his heart and bit down hard on his tongue with his steel-like teeth.
The corrosive saliva secreted by the Space Marines's Superman physique instantly gushed into the wound, bringing a burning pain and a hissing sound.
This self-destructive pain was like a bucket of ice water.
It suddenly cleared his mind, which was almost overwhelmed by fear.
It must be within a few steps of Guilliman walking in front of it.
Come up with a solution!
One can not only save one's life.
This might be a strategy that could give the Red Corsairs a glimmer of hope!
A head-on clash?
The battlefield we just witnessed provides the clearest answer: absolutely impossible.
So.
There is only one way out left: obedience.
But obedience is also an art.
Especially when facing a Primarch who has just displayed overwhelming power and who himself is burdened with sins.
Blindly kneeling and begging for mercy.
It will only make you look even more inferior and useless.
It might even hasten death.
He had to find something that would resonate with Guilliman.
Or at least a form of "obedience" that is acceptable to them.
Under the stimulation of excruciating pain, his mind operated at an unprecedented speed, thanks to the exceptional rationality inherent in Guilliman's Gene-seed.
Despite this extreme pressure, the Huron Blackheart managed to maintain a semblance of logic, preventing it from being completely torn apart by panic.
first.
The cold reality is: he betrayed the Imperium.
This is an undeniable fact.
He was not only a traitor.
Furthermore, it played a disgraceful role in the Battle of Cadia, "contributing" to the opening of the Great Rift.
According to Imperium law and the doctrines of the Ecclesiarchy, he deserves to die a thousand deaths; even being ground to dust would not be an exaggeration!
Therefore, the formalized "confession and acceptance of punishment" is like facing Inquisition.
It's meaningless.
That would only reinforce Guilliman's position as Imperial Regent that he must enforce ironclad laws.
Therefore, it must be an emotional "surrender" that transcends the purely legal level.
Calm down, calm down!
Who exactly is Guilliman?
What are his psychological traits?
Would he appreciate, or rather, how would he deal with a traitorous son like himself?
Do you admire tough guys who would rather die than submit?
Or is he an upright and loyal minister?
No.
Neither is correct.
The Huron Blackheart frantically searched his memories.
All of Guilliman's public statements, actions, and combat records since his resurrection.
Even back when he was the leader of the "Astral Claws" Chapter Master in his early years.
Research on this "theoretical" Gene-Father.
He had read the Astartes Codex countless times.
I once thought I knew this Primarch well—a rigid, law-abiding, and perhaps somewhat ruthless ruler known for his rationality and organizational skills.
But Guilliman before us shattered this stereotype.
That terrifying power that suppressed the Warp as it moved.
That cold and efficient violence when facing Magnus.
That cold, pragmatic approach, like "consumables," in the final verdict... a kind of almost "heinous" enlightenment.
Like lightning cleaving through Huron Blackheart's chaotic thoughts:
He is the Gene-Father.
Deep down, he was like his "rebellious" son.
In some ways... they're actually quite similar!
It doesn't refer to betrayal.
Rather, it's about achieving a goal.
It can be extremely pragmatic, even to the point of being almost coldly rational!
Guilliman was not a pedantic scholar who was ignorant of political maneuvering and adaptability.
Under his "order".
It harbors an astonishing flexibility to tolerate or even exploit "errors" in order to achieve a greater degree of "correctness"!
The light is getting brighter and brighter!
The Huron Blackheart desperately grasped at this fleeting intuition.
Retrieving Guilliman's words from the torrent of memory.
"... I am the Imperial Regent."
"... Magnus, an opportunity for consumables..."
final.
The moment is frozen in time with that calm yet globally resounding declaration from not long ago:
"I am the emperor."
!!!
Oh, right!
This is it!
The path to salvation lies within it!
Huron Blackheart's heart pounded wildly.
It wasn't because of fear.
Rather, it was because they grasped at that possible lifeline.
His brain overheated from operating at its limit, yet his thoughts were clearer than ever before.
Guilliman's identity at this moment.
Not just the "Primarch".
It's not just about "regency".
He was the emperor!
He is the supreme ruler who will soon lead humanity and face endless threats.
What does an emperor need?
Absolute loyalty?
Yes.
But it also requires... capable people.
Even if it has blemishes, it's a useful and controllable "tool"!
Guilliman approached step by step.
He was also examining this person who carried his blood.
However, their offspring took completely opposite paths.
He could feel the pulse of the Ultramarines Gene-seed within Huron Blackheart's body.
That weathered face, now soaked with sweat.
A mixture of fear and fortitude.
And the sharp gaze that, even in dire straits, remained undiminished, a gaze that strained with desperate thought.
His long-term command of the lawless Red Corsairs legion further endowed him with a savage tyrannical aura.
It is far removed from the "exemplary" image of Ultramarines.
Put aside your stance.
This is indeed a "qualified" warrior who fought his way through the brutal Milky Way.
He could even be described as a ruthless and ambitious figure.
Guilliman's thoughts were racing.
He was determined to obtain that Blackstone Fortress; it was a key weapon in the fight against the Warp.
The Red Corsairs numbered around 20,000, many of whom were experienced veterans.
However, the composition is complex, inevitably including many traitors, Chaos Cultist, and opportunists.
A thorough cleansing is inevitable.
However, with the help of Psionic Energy from Eldar allies like Yvraine, they identified those who might still possess sparks of loyalty or those who could be "repurposed."
It's not impossible.
The principle remains the same: punishment will inevitably follow.
But death is not the only destination.
The Milky Way is full of meat grinder battlefields that need to be filled with flesh and blood.
That is where they might find redemption.
At this moment, Guilliman stood before the Huron Blackheart.
Just two steps away.
From this distance, he could easily reach out and pluck the other person's head off.
However.
Huron Blackheart remained silent, staring intently at him, veins bulging on his forehead, sweat pouring down his face.
A faint sense of disappointment crossed Guilliman's mind.
Did they remain completely silent until the very end?
Is this a preparation to silently accept death and show final strength?
"Commendable courage."
But... that's all.
Guilliman thought to himself that he had thought his offspring would be able to control the Maelstrom and allow the Red Corsairs to ravage the land for so long.
They should be more quick-witted, better able to see the situation clearly, and even able to offer some valuable "trade" bargaining chips.
In retrospect, perhaps that was an overestimation.
"I have many sons," Guilliman's cold resolve had already settled. "I don't need another one like you."
He almost raised his hand.
To carry out that inevitable end.
In that fraction of a second!
Huron Blackheart has made his move!
The incredible reflexes and physical coordination granted by the Ultramarines Gene-seed.
His massive body, encased in Terminator Armor.
They did something completely unexpected, even somewhat comical.
Yet the action was filled with a sense of resolute determination.
"Bang!!!"
The heavy kneeplates slammed heavily onto the bridge deck.
The metal floorboards became dented and cracked.
Its power is immense.
The entire command platform trembled.
Immediately afterwards.
A shout, delivered with all its might and almost breaking its own voice, pierced through the clenched teeth of the Huron Blackheart.
The bridge echoed in the dead silence:
"Dad!! I'm your own son!!!"
time.
It was as if everything had frozen in time.
All the Red Corsairs secretly spying on this place.
Along with Calgar, who was holding Magnus captive not far away.
They were all stunned.
Guilliman raised his hand.
It paused almost imperceptibly in mid-air.