We Call You Young Gods

As she spoke, she withdrew her foot, shifted her body on the bed, and adopted a more relaxed, yet strangely alluring, "duck sitting" position.

With his hands on his sides, he looked up at the towering Guilliman, whose eyes, seemingly containing nebulae, gazed straight into his.

"Robert,"

Her voice suddenly softened, carrying a hint of barely perceptible earnestness, "When... would you be willing to return to the Craftworlds with me, or at least, formally visit the Reaper Host?"

We... need the help of the Imperium of Man, especially now."

She paused, then continued, "I know you have just gone through a major battle and everything is in ruins; you need time to regroup."

I am not asking for large-scale military commitments.

But... could you at least offer some support to help us curb the expansion of the Dark Eldar in Commorragh?

"Some key nodes in the Webway, especially those core areas close to the vulnerabilities of the Realspace, must be controlled by the Craftworld Eldar, or rather, by us who follow the New Way."

A deep sadness and disgust flashed across Yvraine's eyes. "I know that saying this might make it seem like our Eldar are still divided."

But... some of their actions were really too much.

In some ways, the Dark Eldar are now more... depraved and twisted than the true Slaanesh followers.

Their method of drawing energy from pain and torment has strayed from the elegance and skill once practiced by the Eldar, becoming a pure and nauseating addiction.

The Eldar... shouldn't be like this."

Guilliman listened in silence, sensing the weight and sincerity in the Eldar leader's words.

He walked to the bedside and sat down, the bed groaning slightly under his weight.

He turned his head and looked at Yvraine's beautiful, sorrowful face, which was so close to his.

"I understand what you mean, Yvraine." His voice was low and gentle. "I also hate those 'black bean sprouts'."

They are like a festering sore on the body of Milky Way civilization.

He thought for a moment, "If you need substantial help, I can allocate... well, 100,000 Ultramarines for you right now."

Given their current... 'state', coupled with your Reaper Host's familiarity with the Webway and the cooperation of Eldar technology.

That's enough to deliver a sufficiently profound 'surgical' blow to Commorragh and reclaim the node you want."

The number touched Yvraine slightly, but she quickly shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips, "No, Robert."

I cannot... nor should I, at this time, add such a heavy burden and risk to our allies who have just gained a foothold.

The battles deep within the Webway are full of variables; even 100,000 powerful warriors can get bogged down in a quagmire.

I brought this up more so... so that you would understand our predicament and a direction for future cooperation."

She reached out, her slender fingers gently tracing a battle-damaged scratch on Guilliman's arm armor, her movements as delicate as if she were touching a fragile treasure.

"As long as your plans allow for time and space for us, for our common enemy, that's enough."

The Eldar have very long lifespans, we... can afford to wait."

Thank you for your understanding and tolerance, beautiful lady.

Guilliman gave a sincere, weary smile and gave an elegant, slightly exaggerated bow.

Although sitting on the bed looks a bit comical, "Give me some time, two or three years, maybe less."

The issue of the Golden Throne needs to be addressed as a priority, as it concerns the very foundation of the Imperium.

After that, we had so many things to face together.

As for Commorragh ..." A cold glint flashed in his eyes, "It's always been on my list."

The more Ultramarines have, the more confident I am in carrying out these kinds of missions.

He gently patted the bed, adopting a tone of farewell. "Well then, Your Excellency Prophet Yvraine, would you please move back to the more comfortable guest room prepared for you?"

Your 'little boy' Lord Regent needs to prepare for 'sleep' now."

He emphasized the word "sleep," with a hint of self-deprecation, "You know, it's been... a very, very long time since I've truly closed my eyes."

For Guilliman now, this desire to "sleep" is more like a psychological luxury, a longing for "normal life."

To be able to temporarily unload one's burdens and lie on a soft surface.

Closing his eyes and letting his consciousness sink into the dreamless darkness or chaotic fragments of memory, the pure sense of relaxation was an unimaginable enjoyment for him.

Instead of leaving, Yvraine moved closer, emanating a strange fragrance that was cool like moonlight yet subtly warm like alien flowers and plants.

She opened her arms in a gesture of embrace, her eyes carrying the unique expression of the Eldar —a mixture of innocence and allure—like a small animal seeking warmth.

"Don't you... want to sleep with a beautiful woman, Robert?" Her voice was low and breathy, tickling the heart.

Guilliman chuckled and shook his head helplessly, "Oh, my God."

In my understanding, don't many Eldar consider us humans to be uncivilized 'monkeys'?

Wouldn't sharing a bed with a 'monkey' diminish your elegance, Prophet?

Who would think you're a monkey?

Yvraine rolled her eyes at him, a glance that was full of allure:

"In our Eldar prophecies and perceptions, beings like you are usually referred to as ' Godling,' 'potential gods,' or 'children of stars.'"

You don't really think you're the same species as those ordinary humans with short lifespans who struggle to survive, do you?

"You are God, Robert, one of the projections and bearers of the concept formed from millions of years of human faith, expectation, fear, and worship in the Realspace."

She paused, her tone softening, carrying a rare shyness that belonged to her personally rather than that of a prophet. "Of course... even if you really were just a 'person,' I might... still like you."

Among our Craftworld Eldar, quite a few girls have developed feelings for those valiant human Space Marines.

They were resolute, loyal, and quite handsome... only they were a bit short and had short lifespans.

Guilliman was amused by her words, and his heavy fatigue seemed to lessen slightly.

"There's no way around it; it's a fundamental difference in physiological structure."

As far as I know, Eldar girls are generally over 2.1 meters tall, while our human 'warriors' are extremely rare, reaching 2 meters is already a dime a dozen."

He finally gave up, lay back, and let his heavy body sink into the mattress.

The Power Armour made a slight creaking sound as it rubbed against the bed.

He closed his eyes and let out a satisfied sigh.