Euten

But Guilliman did not.

He was pulling back his strength.

He was being tolerant.

He was waiting for himself to come to his senses.

Dorn closed his eyes.

If Guilliman wanted to, he could be smashed into mincemeat in the next second.

The idea struck him as absurd.

He is Roge Dorn, Primarch of the Seventh Legion, Lord of the Imperial Fists, the Rock.

He never feared any enemy, and never retreated from any battle.

But at this moment, he knew clearly that an insurmountable chasm had separated him from Guilliman.

He opened his eyes and looked at the figure still crying in his mother's arms.

Then he smiled.

It wasn't bitterness, nor jealousy, but relief.

His brother walked ahead of everyone else.

That's enough.

Guilliman finally stood up.

His eyes were still a little red, but his face had returned to calm.

He turned and walked toward Dorn.

"Seventh Brother."

He asked, "How are you feeling?"

Dorn nodded. "Much better."

That device has been removed.

Guilliman looked at him, paused for a moment, and then asked, "What do you remember?"

Dorn also fell silent.

Of course he remembers.

I remember shouting "Horus" frantically, I remember swinging my sword desperately, I remember being repelled by Guilliman time and time again, and then charging forward again and again.

He remembered the golden light, and he also remembered the pain in Guilliman's eyes.

"I remember some."

He said, "You've become stronger."

Much stronger.

Guilliman gave a wry smile, "It's not that I've become stronger, it's that times have changed."

He reached out and placed his hand on Dorn's shoulder. "Seventh Brother, the Imperium now is completely different from the one you were in your slumber."

Dorn looked at him. "Tell me."

Guilliman took a deep breath, his tone tinged with complexity. "Malcador is back."

He's been rejuvenated and is now a handsome young man, standing 1.8 meters tall, only reaching Lion's knees.

But don't laugh at him, he's still the Imperium prime minister, and his mind works better than anyone else's."

Dorn's lips twitched slightly.

Has Malcador become younger?

"Magnus is back too."

Guilliman continued, his tone becoming more complex, "He was beaten into submission by me."

Dorn frowned. "You beat them into submission?"

Guilliman nodded, his expression a mixture of helplessness and pride. "Yes, they've beaten him into submission."

He's currently researching Psionic Energy in Terra, and spends his days discussing with Malcador how to optimize Warp communication.

Occasionally, he would also help Sanguinius with some administrative matters.

Dorn's lips twitched even more violently.

Magnus, the culprit who turned against the Emperor over Psionic Energy issues and caused the Terra Shield to be broken, is he now researching Psionic Energy on Terra?

He was even beaten into submission by Guilliman?

"Angron is back too."

Guilliman continued, "He was beaten into submission by me."

Dorn finally couldn't keep his composure any longer.

Angron, the berserker driven mad by the Butcher's Nails and who would cut down anyone in his path, was finally subdued by Guilliman?

"How... did you beat him into submission?"

Dorn's voice was a little hoarse.

Guilliman shrugged. "They fought."

He'll stop going crazy after I beat him.

Now he is the God of Emotion and Strife, quite peaceful.

Dorn remained silent for a long time.

In his mind, those once tall and mighty brothers had all become... He couldn't find the right words.

Guilliman added, "Sanguinius and Lion are back too."

Sanguinius was resurrected by his father, while Lion awoke on his own.

They're both in Terra now.

Dorn's smile finally broke free.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but found that he couldn't say anything at all.

He wanted to ask: How did you do that?

How did you manage to bring back all those traitorous, insane, and dead brothers, one by one?

But he didn't ask.

Because he knew the answer.

Guilliman united everyone with his fists, his will, and the heart his mother gave him.

"So you're this one, the thirteenth prince."

Dorn reached out and patted Guilliman on the shoulder, a gesture filled with rare intimacy.

Guilliman paused, then asked, "What?"

Dorn no explanation.

He simply looked at Guilliman, his gaze filled with an unprecedented level of approval.

After a moment of silence, Dorn spoke, "Are you now the Lord Regent of the Imperium?"

Guilliman nodded. "Yes."

Dorn nodded firmly, his tone unwavering. "I knew you could do it."

I knew it from the first time I saw you.

Guilliman looked at him, a hint of emotion in his eyes.

Then he raised his hand and solemnly said, "I swear to God, I have absolutely no ambition."

Dorn paused for a moment.

Guilliman continued, his tone full of helplessness. "There's no one else who can take the position but me."

Malcador didn't want to do it, Sanguinius didn't want to do it, Lion wanted to do it even less.

The other brothers either haven't returned yet, or they've returned with a host of health problems.

So it can only be me.

Dorn looked at him, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I understand."

I see."

Guilliman sighed, his expression full of misunderstanding and grievance. "You don't understand."

Everyone thinks I'm ambitious and wants to be emperor.

But I really don't want to.

There are so many government affairs, meetings, and all sorts of messy things to deal with every day.

"I'd rather go to the front lines and kill people."

Dorn's lips curled up slightly. "You weren't like this before."

"You used to love handling government affairs; Malcador praised you as a natural-born manager."

Guilliman gave a wry smile, "That's because there wasn't as much government work before."

Ten thousand years of bad debts, ten thousand years of corruption, ten thousand years of Chaos erosion, all piled up in front of me.

Do you know what? When I first woke up, the Imperium's bureaucratic system was more terrifying than Chaos.

"At least Chaos is openly evil; they're evil under the banner of the Emperor."

Dorn remained silent for a moment.

He recalled the rumors about the Imperial Cult and bureaucratic corruption.

The darkness he vaguely sensed while he was asleep.

You've worked hard.

He said.

Guilliman shook his head. "It's not hard work."

"Of course."

His gaze deepened. "Father created us not to fight wars, but to protect humanity."

As long as humanity exists, as long as the Imperium exists, anything I do is worthwhile.

Dorn looked at him, at this brother who had once only known how to fight, and now uttered such words.

He suddenly remembered a quote from the Emperor: "Guilliman is the most human-like Primarch."

It's not because he's the strongest, not because he's the best fighter, but because he has a human heart.

"Seventh Brother,"

Guilliman's voice interrupted his thoughts, "I'll take you back to Terra."

Dorn nodded. "Okay."

A glint flashed in Guilliman's eyes. "Oh, right, I also captured Perturabo."

Dorn's expression froze instantly.

Guilliman looked at Dorn's face, which froze instantly, and felt a surge of amusement.

"Perturabo."

He repeated, "They were caught in the Imperium Nihilus."

Lion fought him and knocked him down.

He's currently imprisoned in Terra's dungeons.