Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

Under the moonlight, Marum followed closely behind his emperor, wary of any dangerous actions his emperor might take due to the psychological trauma of the day.

"You don't need to look at me so cautiously. I'm not some little brat who breaks down and throws a tantrum when I get anxious."

Adachi was a person with strong mental resilience; in later generations, he would be known as someone who never suffers from internal conflict.

When the two arrived home, the yard was a bit messy. In addition to Lao Wu's shed, there was an extra simple carpenter's workbench next to it.

A little further ahead in the open space, there was a tool covered with cloth, which looked like it was not yet finished.

"Marum, what is this kid going to make? It can't be some kind of Trojan horse again, can it?"

Anda stood outside the window and looked out. Aaron was already asleep. He had washed and hung up their clothes before going to bed.

His shadow, cast by the moonlight, fell on Aaron's face, appearing completely black.

Marum pondered:

"It is said to be a musical instrument, probably because Aaron saw Lord Chagatai playing some kind of Chogoris in his dream. The Khan is a famous musician, and even Fugrim once invited him to play music together."

Anda gave a wry smile:

"I don't know how long it has been since I listened to music. All I hear are the noises of steam pipes, gears clashing, airflow, and all sorts of mixed energy rushing through the pipes."

Unfortunately, Anda's bitter expression didn't last long before turning into anger:

"Damn it, that old man is taking revenge on me! It's the Emperor who's suffering on the throne, what does that have to do with me, Anda Will!"

Marum, who was already used to Anda's erratic behavior, remained calm; this level of erratic behavior was nothing to him.

He asked respectfully, "Your Majesty, what is your favorite piece of music?"

He knew that at this moment, the skeleton could hear his questions.

Anda rubbed his temples and squatted in the corner: "How should I know? There's no music in this era, it's all a mess."

He took a breath and sighed deeply:

"Never mind, I'll look for my memories of the future. One must make peace with oneself."

"Ride of the Valkyries, I think. When Erda and I listened to this piece in Vienna, it reminded us of our experience of gnawing on the snow in Northern Europe, where we almost gnawed a huge subspace rift out of it."

"A group of human warriors, both men and women, rode across the snowfield to support us. It's true that I wasn't blinded in one eye after being hung from a tree. That stupid old woman Erda always likes to make up strange stories about me."

"Zeus was like that, and so was Odin."

Anda was furious, but a genuine smile appeared on his face, a rare occurrence.

This was the future for him, but it has become a memory.

The future may hold only a fraction of its beauty, but its suffering is endless.

Marum glanced cautiously at His Majesty's hair and whispered, "Your Majesty, please allow me to initiate the ritual and deliver the message."

Anda waved his hand casually and said:

"Whatever. We still have some resources left after exchanging the pillow we gave Guilliman and the papyrus we gave Loka."

Marum bowed his head respectfully and agreed, then helped His Majesty with his washing.

That night, Anda slept soundly in bed. He almost never dreamed, because it foreshadowed the perilous future.

Until this time, he saw himself sitting on a huge throne inside a tall and magnificent palace.

Within this enormous palace, every imaginable skill was employed; each brick struck was enough to leave a solemn mark on the history of human art.

Ahead, a long platform stretched out, flanked by guards clad in golden armor.

They were tall, but compared to the enormous building and their own line of sight, they were nothing more than ants.

These little people seem to be carrying something over—a record player?

It's not an old item; it's a replica made using techniques from ancient Terra.

A cultist dressed in a red robe, unlike Caul who was about to turn into a mechanical block, stepped forward and tried to convey something in his weak voice.

It took him a long time to understand what the person meant.

Some cultural works from ancient Terra were recorded not in physical form, but in the minds of certain individuals.

They need to have records printed on-site so they can play their own tracks.

That's so stupid.

Humanity, how could you have fallen so low?

Humanity, why must we be in such a state of sorrow?

Humanity—

Anda's thoughts became blurred. He was merging too much with his future self, to the point that his past self was enduring the pain of being shattered into pieces, having his humanity obliterated, and being possessed by the Dark King who destroyed everything.

But at least, let's hang in there a little longer so we can hear this piece of music.

Anda thought to himself.

Several hours later, the faint tone was not enough to mask all the noise of the throne's operation, but it was still gathered and drifted into the skeleton's ear canal.

The Lord of Humanity finally found some solace.

At least some things, humanity has never forgotten.

Chapter 61 Pharaoh Horus Arrives

"Good morning, Father, Marum, and you, Fifth Brother. You've been very inactive lately. Once I'm done with this busy period, I'll take you for a walk."

Aaron woke up early today; his father and Marum hadn't gone to work yet.

That's strange, are they waiting for me to cook for them?

To be honest, he wasn't quite used to this kind of fast-paced, mundane family life.

This is what a normal family should be like. When Mother comes back, she will be very happy. Father has finally taken on his responsibilities!

Today, Anda, for the first time in a long time, prepared to wash up, no longer appearing as that strange, dirty old man.

"I had a dream last night, and today I am a completely new me. You know what? In the future, many people will use this sentence as an excuse for themselves."

Aaron just yawned as he gathered the ingredients, sighing as he did so:

"I understand, Father. I'd rather you take these words back to Mother. Is that why you'd rather fix your weird hair than help me cook?"

Anda lifted one side of her long hair, revealing several strange split ends, and said coldly:

“Look at this, all this suffering is for the sake of your good brothers.”

"Today is the day that chariot is given life, so I must be dressed formally. I might be facing an extremely abhorrent demon, and I'm going to beat the crap out of it!"

"By the way, if you don't have anything to do today, you shouldn't go out. Staying at home and tinkering with your wood is quite nice. I heard from Marum that it's a musical instrument. It's quite nice, it has your mother's style."

Aaron set the food on the table after Anda had finished tidying her hair.

He said with some concern:

"Will he be even more terrifying than the last Erst? But that guy was no match for Marum. If you find him repulsive, how powerful would he be?"

Marum said respectfully, "No demon can reveal its schemes and tricks before you, sir."

Aaron quickly shook his head:

"No, no, no, I'm not listening to your opinion, Marum. I seek your advice on everything, but when it comes to my father's judgment, I only trust myself. You all seem to have some strange filter on him, not only thinking he's handsome, but also treating him as an absolute standard, like an emperor on top of you every day."

“He picks his nose and snores when he sleeps. Oh well, I’m not a disobedient person. Since you won’t let me go out, I’ll just stay here.”

Anda said with satisfaction, "That's more like it. If the other rebellious sons had all listened to me obediently, there wouldn't have been so many problems."

He quickly finished eating, got up, and tidied himself up.

He proclaimed in a loud voice, "Marum, come with me to witness the birth of the first Neos engine!"

Aaron just shook his head and sighed, "He's stopped saying those crazy things, but he's started talking nonsense. I don't think the present father is influencing the future; it's more like the future is influencing the past."

Forget it, at least pretending to be a future emperor is better than being an irresponsible father.

Aaron pulled down the tarpaulin in the yard, revealing the large harp.

The overall framework is now complete; all that's missing are the strings and some finishing touches on the appearance.

It would look really cool if it were mounted on the back of a tank.

Although Aaron didn't know why, they originally only intended to make a motorcycle, but as they added more and more, it turned into a war chariot.

There is a percussion instrument called a drum. If we could make a set according to the size of my younger brothers and put it on the chariot.

How cool would that be?

Hopefully, the Pharaoh won't be angry that his chariot was stolen (he probably wouldn't be angry if he were killed), this is also to prevent war and allow the people in the border region of the three continents to live in peace for a few hundred more years.

Aaron found a file and began to carve the object according to the style of his mother's temple decorations, as he remembered it.

The fifth brother quietly walked a little further away to avoid breathing in too much sawdust.

It missed the Khan's agile and perfect body, his strong thigh muscles, and silently licked its lips.

Meanwhile, at the Temple Square.

The assembled artisans are changing into robes bearing the symbol of the Eye of Horus, and many are excited, as this signifies their acceptance by the temple and their opportunity to rise from the artisan class into the religious system.

An underground passage has been opened up, with collapsed walls on both sides. Hundreds of laborers and slaves, blindfolded with black cloths, are pulling on their chains, which lead to the deepest part of the passage.

As soon as the Pharaoh arrives, that war machine will be released from the abyss and brought into the sunlight, unleashing its fangs upon this fragile, early civilization.

And what stood in its way was nothing more than a mere Primarch Father and Primarch Son.

Anriwen, the creator of this filthy creation, is staggering up the high platform, wearing the robes of a priest of the Temple of the Sun.

The original priests did not appear, and no one inquired about the suspicious situation.

The aging craftsman looked around but found no trace of the Dark King, the abyss darkness that Nara, the god, fought against every day.

It seems they're not here yet.

At this moment, Anda was scratching her long robe skirt; she had been bitten by mosquitoes yesterday, which was a nuisance.

Last night, after his consciousness sank into the future, his body was no different from a human's, and mosquitoes don't have the ability to stop moving when they see their own face.

Because the Dark Lord has been appeased, I am now more like Anda Will, unaffected by the timeline changes, and even if Vashtor himself came, he wouldn't be able to tell anything.