The Road Ahead Is Long
"It's up to you, Cawl."
Guilliman's image nodded slightly; he had full confidence in Cawl's technology and the almost miraculous restorative abilities of the Smart Atoms.
After arranging for the treatment of his offspring, Guilliman turned around and saw Yvraine had quietly arrived at the observation deck near the bridge.
The Reaper Host's prophet's beautiful face wore a look of helplessness mixed with exasperation.
"I was thinking of going down to help out," Yvraine shrugged, her tone wistful, "But your lads... went berserk."
Upon seeing the Eldar, I don't care if they're the Reaper Host or anything else, I'll charge in and hack and slash!
I explained to them that we were allies, and they actually thought it was some kind of 'new trick of the Chaos Gods '!
She rolled her eyes elegantly. "You humans' discrimination against the Eldar is truly an instinct for war ingrained in your very bones."
Guilliman couldn't help but laugh, a laugh tinged with honest helplessness:
"There's no way around it. We humans, ever since the Emperor era, have been a group of stubborn racists and warmongers."
Having this clear understanding of oneself is the first step towards becoming a Milky Way civilization.
"It's rare to see someone with such a 'clear' understanding of themselves."
Yvraine pursed her lips, walked over to him, and together they looked out the porthole at Terra, where order was gradually returning to normal.
"I had hoped to take this opportunity to make a good impression on the people of the Imperium, to let them know that there are 'good people' among the Eldar... It seems that's out of the question."
"Impressions take time to change." Guilliman's smile faded, and he said seriously, "I will formally announce the alliance between the Imperium and the Reaper Host."
Proclaim this to the entire Imperium.
He specifically emphasized the "Reaper Host".
"Of course, this only applies to our alliance."
He added, his tone leaving no room for argument, "The other Eldar branches... you know, not to mention the scum of the Dark Eldar, even the Craftworld Eldar, with their historical grievances and ideological conflicts with us, cannot be resolved overnight."
Yvraine sighed softly, nodded, and said with a complicated expression, "Yes, I understand."
Let alone you humans, even within our Eldar, the view of humans is... hard to describe.
Arrogance, prejudice, fear, exploitation... deeply ingrained.
We, the Eldar, are born proud and regard other races as... well, 'imperfect creations'.
To truly achieve a stable and mutually trusting partnership...
She gazed at the stars, her voice distant and melodious:
"The road ahead is difficult and long..."
Darkness, warmth, like being immersed in nutrient solution, or as if enveloped by a gentle energy field.
The sense of time has vanished, leaving only the slow yet steady pulse of life's origin reweaving.
I don't know how much time has passed, maybe a day, maybe a week.
Calgar's consciousness, like a deep-sea submersible, slowly rose to the surface.
Hearing was the first thing to be restored.
It wasn't noisy, but rather a deep, rhythmic hum, the sound of precise machinery at work, and the subtle rustling of liquid flowing slowly.
Then there's the sense of touch; beneath me lies a soft yet supportive substance, not a cold, metallic operating table.
He tried to open his eyes.
My vision was initially blurry, as if through a thin, pale blue film.
The focus was quickly adjusted.
What came into view was a "face" almost touching his eyes, made of metal, precision mechanical parts, pipes, and a small amount of bionic skin.
Several optical sensors of different colors were flashing with focused light, and a slender mechanical probe had just been retracted from his forehead.
"Ah! Calgar! You're awake!"
The Belisarius Cawl's distinctive tone, a blend of synthesized mechanical voice and a deliberately imitated "persuasive" manner, rang out, brimming with undisguised joy:
"Congratulations! The long process of repair and adaptive evolution is complete!"
Based on the latest vital sign scans and gene sequence stability analysis, I am honored to inform you--
Cawl's mechanical face moved even closer, and the optical sensors blinked rapidly a few times:
"You have successfully 'upgraded' to a more powerful 'girl'!"
Calgar: "..."
He silently and resolutely raised his right hand, which had just regained sensation and was still somewhat weak.
He slapped Cawl's mechanical mask, which was too close to him, and then pushed it aside forcefully.
"You've said this kind of silly joke to me at least four times, Cawl." Calgar's voice was a little hoarse, but the helplessness and disdain in his tone were clearly discernible.
After each serious injury was repaired, Cawl seemed to take pleasure in teasing his Chapter Master's first reaction upon regaining consciousness.
The first time, he was so shocked he almost jumped out of the repair pod; the second time, he was skeptical; the third time, he scoffed; and now... he's just numb.
Cawl was pushed aside with a click, like gears turning, and took a few steps back, seemingly with some regret.
"Your sense of humor threshold has increased in tandem with your physical strength."
This is a good thing, it means the neural connection is perfect.
Calgar ignored the eccentric Archmagos.
He took a deep breath, feeling the fullness of the air filling his lungs, and then propped himself up on his arms, sitting up from the "regeneration couch" that combined the essence of biotechnology and the Adeptus Mechanicus.
My body felt completely unhindered, as if the terrifying trauma I had experienced was just an overly realistic nightmare.
He lowered his head and looked at his waist and abdomen—the site of the fatal wound that Angron had nearly severed him from.
Smooth, flat, and tough.
Beneath the skin are newly formed, more vibrant and stronger muscle fibers, and the epidermis covering them appears even more delicate than the surrounding native skin, subtly shimmering with a healthy metallic sheen.
There were no scars, no dents, as if the area had never been injured.
Only he himself could vaguely perceive that, deeper within the skin and muscles, the microstructure of the bones and internal organs had been rewoven by Smart Atoms in a more efficient and robust manner.
He stepped barefoot off the repair bed, the cool floor providing a tangible touch.
He walked to a full-length mirror on one side of the room—a standard feature in the Cawl Lab, allowing "works" to observe their own state.
The mirror reflected a tall, perfect, and powerful body.
The muscles are well-defined without being overly bulging, yet they possess explosive power.
The skin appears exceptionally smooth due to the long period of repair and regeneration.
What is most striking are his eyes—deep within his azure pupils, tiny, stardust-like silver specks seem to slowly swirl.
That's a sign that the Smart Atoms have deeply integrated and entered a more active state.
He slowly clenched his fist.
Buzz...
A low, almost imperceptible vibration emanated from inside his fist.
It's not about muscle exertion, but rather a more fundamental level of energy resonance.
He could clearly "feel" that the "activity," "response speed," and "energy conversion efficiency" of the Smart Atoms flowing through his body had all significantly improved compared to before the injury.
It was as if, through that near-death experience of tempering and repair, these tiny creations that coexisted with him had also completed a collective evolution.
The power surged through my veins, greater, more tamed, and more at my command than ever before.
But there wasn't much joy on Calgar's face.
His reflection in the mirror showed a slight frown.
"Still... not strong enough." He muttered to himself, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet recovery room. "I must become... much stronger."
He thought of the axe shadow that had almost torn him in two, and of Angron's despair-inducing rage amplified by the power of the four gods.
If it weren't for his father arriving in time, if it weren't for Sicarius and Malum risking their lives to protect him...
He shook his head, dispelling the lingering fear and replacing it with an even more fervent and resolute determination.
"How can someone like me... be worthy to continue standing behind my father, fighting alongside him across the Milky Way?"