"An ancient Terran poet once said: If I had never seen the light, I could have endured the darkness. That was how I felt upon coming to this era."
Lox, moved by the thought, began pouring out his grievances to Guilliman.
"I don't know why the galaxy became like this. War—war everywhere. Even humanity itself slaughtered one another over differing ideals."
Guilliman's hand clenched into a fist.
"For survival, to satisfy desire, to kill for the sake of killing. That is the true face of this universe."
"So you believe that we descendants ruined everything?" Guilliman asked. He was sincere, and that was one of the traits Lox liked about him.
"No, that's not it. You were victims as well. By the time you were born, the galaxy was already like this." Lox waved his hand in denial. No matter what, the humans of the present should not bear this blame.
He had come to understand it. The Emperor had done nothing wrong. Humanity could only survive in this galaxy by becoming this ignorant.
Humanity could abandon those terrifying technologies. It could become ignorant and foolish, fanatical and isolated. Everything was for survival. As long as they could live on, it was all worth it.
"Judging by the outcome, the Chief and the others failed. Humanity still went down that road of no return, leading to the beginning of the Dark Age of Technology. By your era, people had even forgotten that humanity once had a period of pioneering progress and healthy advancement."
"Roboute, you never witnessed those magnificent years when humanity relied on itself to rise from its cradle and enter the galaxy. Those ignorant, weak mortals in your eyes once achieved incomparably glorious accomplishments."
Even merely listening to Lox's description, Guilliman longed immensely for that legendary era.
If