Monsters: Evolving from Titans to Ancient Gods.

"You... are a sub-group of the Steel Hand?"

"You actively want to join the Dreadnought Mech?"

Anyone who has this idea is either incredibly loyal or simply lacks common sense.

The Ultra Warrior fell silent instantly, his anger melting away like cream. As a glorious Ultra Warrior, he had no reason to argue with a fool.

The Ultramariner took a deep breath, then picked up the gene gland storage device and headed to the next location, deciding not to pay any more attention to this idiot.

At the distant Hera Fortress, the Ultramarines' chief think tank, through the communication channel, received all the feedback from their surviving comrades regarding the Space Marines, leaving them utterly speechless.

Is this the latest model of Space Marine?

They're all so unconventional, giving off the vibe of those warbands that roam the edge of the galaxy, betraying the Empire but not joining Chaos...

He sighed silently, then turned to look at the Imperial Guards protecting Hera Fortress behind him; they also seemed to be acting strangely…

"Why is the armor of these Imperial Guards so strange?"

"... "

The interior of Hera's Fortress.

Robert Guilliman, the leader of the Ultramarines, felt his body restored by the immense power. Before him were two brothers in a terrible state, and the voice of the golden figure before him still echoed in his mind.

He remained silent for a long time, a look of hesitation and disbelief appearing on his sharply defined, marble-sculpted face:

"You...aren't my father?"

His voice contained a sense of disappointment at not getting an answer, but also a hint of unspeakable relief.

On the one hand, he originally thought that after he woke up, the situation of the empire had improved, and even his seriously injured father had returned.

But now that fantasy was shattered in an instant. Standing in front of him was someone who also possessed godlike power, had a face exactly like his father's, and also liked golden things.

But the man before him was not his father; he remained seated on the throne, suffering greatly, and the human empire did not improve.

On the other hand, Guilliman was also relieved that his father hadn't turned into someone who used blasphemous and profane language from the moment he opened his mouth.

The Lord of Space stood in the shattered hall, nodding as he surveyed the three Primarchs, but quickly shaking his head.

Meeting Guilliman's questioning gaze, he chuckled and said, "I am indeed not your father, but I will not object if you want to call me father."

"Your father and I are identical beings from different universes. We are exactly the same in terms of strength, love for humanity, face, and even genes."

"Of course, I'm not as badly off as Terra, who was paralyzed from the waist down, and the enemies I faced weren't that strong either, but you should be able to feel the connection between our bloodlines."

The King of Space chuckled as he looked at Robert Guilliman, finding him increasingly pleasing to the eye.

At first, he didn't take the so-called parallel universe counterparts seriously.

But it wasn't until he arrived here and personally experienced the existence of another version of himself, his pain, and the cries from the depths of the warp that he changed his mind.

The overlap between the Lord of Humanity and myself is very high; they are exactly the same except for their experiences and ways of thinking.

From the moment he saw the Primarch, the Lord of Space marveled at his other self, who was truly a genius like himself, able to directly control a massive genetically modified combat army through a Primarch.

Why didn't I think of this method back then?

The Lord of Space even wondered if, if he had created twenty such Primarchs, his Space Marines wouldn't have turned into lunatics.

Unfortunately, everything is now set in stone.

But that's alright. Even without the original body, he can still give another of his own sons to the cow.

Anyway, since he and the emperor share the same genes, his son is his son.

but…

The King of Space looked down at the "Serpent Demon" that had been folded into seven pieces and the two swollen and decaying Primarchs.

They were also his own sons, but they were bewitched by the Chaos God and turned into what they are now.

Thinking of this, the King of Space couldn't help but kick them and said with disdain, "Tsk... You have no right to be decent people and you have to make yourselves into this disgusting state. You're really pathetic."

"I don't know how my other self taught you. With my eloquence and incredibly high emotional intelligence, you shouldn't have turned out like this."

As the King of Space's voice faded, Guilliman and Mortalian, who had been the first to awaken, fell silent.

"hehe…"

Motalian forced a smile onto his corrupt face, and Guilliman hesitated before finally falling silent.

This scene made the King of Space raise an eyebrow and ask, "What? Is there a problem?"

Guilliman remained silent, but after his attempts to struggle failed, Motalian looked at the face that was exactly like his father's with a resigned expression:

“I’m sure now that you’re not his real father. He wouldn’t say something like that.”

The King of Space glanced at him and kicked him again without hesitation: "Shut up, you stinky brat, your rotten smell is too strong."

Seeing this, Guilliman came to his senses and realized that he didn't need to worry about his two depraved brothers for the time being.

The only dilemma is that Guilliman now doesn't know how to address his father, who claims to be from another universe.

How the empire should respond to his arrival is, of course, a matter of the empire's fate.

The King of Space keenly sensed Guilliman's dilemma and, changing his disdainful expression, patted Guilliman on the shoulder in a hearty manner.

"There's no need to dwell on these things. Whether you call me Father or King of Space, it doesn't matter. What matters most now is the fate of humanity, isn't it?"

Guilliman felt the warmth emanating from the King of Space and instinctively felt at ease, the pressure that had been suffocating him from the despairing reality suddenly lessened.

"Yes, Father."

He nodded. In any case, the world of Ottara and the people isolated by the Great Rift needed the power of the Space King.

Tens of thousands of Imperial Guards, millions of powerful Space Marines, a fleet comparable in size to the Great Crusade, plus that face and the feeling of being connected by blood.

What's wrong with calling the King of Space "father"?

Guilliman even wondered what it would be like if the Emperor himself were to see an army of this size and another person who could rival him.

Based on Guilliman's understanding of the Lord of Mankind, if such power could be obtained simply by doing this, he would absolutely not care about saving face.

If you tell him he can get help by calling the King of Space "father," he won't hesitate for a second and will keep doing so until the King of Space gets tired of it.

Upon hearing this affectionate address, the King of Space smiled broadly. Ottara had come to the right place; he had successfully snatched a son from his other self. This felt wonderful.

Guilliman smiled with relief, as if he had returned to the era of expedition ten thousand years ago, a time filled with reason and hope.

He knew that the bleak and hopeless fate of the human empire would be rewritten on this day.

From this day forward, the human empire will find hope again and escape this endless sea of ​​suffering…

Chapter 253 The Meeting: A Lively Low-Level Game

The interior compartments of the Space King Dream.

Robert Guilliman, accompanied by his guards, followed alongside the King of Space, with dozens of fully armed guards close behind.

As Guilliman walked inside this enormous spaceship, comparable to Luna's, his eyes scanned everything that came into view with an observant gaze.

This warship from another universe is different from every warship and even star fortress of the Empire today, both in appearance and in various aspects of its interior.

Many of the devices and instruments were ones he had never seen before, and even with his limited knowledge, he couldn't immediately guess their purpose.

Behind him, the great sage Kaul of the Cult of Machines had repaired his massive mechanical body and, once again donned his red robe, followed behind.

Everything he saw felt unfamiliar, but it also sparked a strong sense of curiosity. If he could, he would love to stay here and study.

As they approached the hall, Guilliman recalled his two fallen brothers and asked, "Father, what do you intend to do with my two brothers?"

"They are now the fallen ones, and even setting aside the various atrocities they have committed in the Empire, the power of the Chaos Gods flows through their veins."

“Their every word and action, or even their mere existence, poses an extremely high risk of corrupting other lives. It is not enough for me to simply imprison them.”

Guilliman knew that these fallen brothers were already deeply bound to the Chaos God, body and soul, and were beyond redemption.

Their mere existence poses an extremely high risk to the entire star sector of the Empire, and could potentially cause many star regions to be eroded by chaotic forces at any time.

"Chaos?" The King of Space pondered for a moment, then smiled and said, "At least on my ship, they can't reach this far. To rescue these two rebellious sons, they would have to fill every inch of this star system with subspace energy to have that kind of interference capability."

Guilliman seemed thoughtful upon hearing this, but before he could say anything, the King of Space patted him on the shoulder again, "Besides, I don't intend to deal with them directly. I think since I have the ability to control them, I might as well take them directly to the solar system and let the half-paralyzed Emperor deal with them."

The King of Space thought it would be more appropriate for the Lord of Humanity of this universe to deal with them personally.

Although they share a blood connection with me, I was not the one who nurtured and taught them; it's better for him to handle it.

Guilliman remained silent upon hearing this, but he also felt that the decision was appropriate. In fact, he still harbored a sliver of fantasy that he had never told anyone.

If they were all handed over to the Emperor, perhaps there would still be a sliver of hope for their survival…

Kaul did not participate in the conversation between the two men; his attention was focused on the Golden Guard and Space Marines passing by.

As the highest sage of the Faith of Machines, he could sense that these people were vastly different from the Space Marines and the Custodians here, perhaps even in terms of the methods of modification and internal structure.

No matter how he analyzed it, these genetically modified alien warriors were simply too outrageous.

As the group continued their journey, the King of Space brought up the topic of Space Marines, showing great interest.

"Astartes, that's the name of those genetically modified warriors behind you, right?"

The King of Space spoke meaningfully: "It seems that the other me in the universe is still much better than me in terms of technology. These warriors are very good in many ways, at least in terms of mental stability than my creations."

Since their appearance in Macragge, the Space King has discovered the advantages of these genetically modified warriors. Although they are not as fast as his Madman in terms of forming and training, they have the advantage of carrying out modification and training at the same time.

They were in much better mental condition than his lunatics, which almost hit the space king's sweet spot.

His combat power is comparable to that of his madman, and he is in good mental condition. His only drawback is that he is slow to form an army, but this drawback is directly negated by the calm environment of his own universe.

As for the risk of moral decay?

The King of Space said that this was not a big deal, since his universe did not have any messy evil gods and there was no need to worry.

On the other hand, ten thousand years ago, when he was conquering the sea of ​​cosmic souls, there were also space warriors who were bewitched and fell into depravity, and his madmen were not much better in terms of chaos resistance.

Upon hearing this, Guilliman recalled those outrageously eccentric genetically modified warriors and a conjecture began to form in his mind, but after thinking about it, he nodded:

"They are selected from ordinary people, undergo rigorous training, and then their internal organs are gradually modified through the implantation of gene glands."

"After their death, the glands they leave behind can carry some of their combat genes and become seeds for the next candidate to be modified."

"If the genetic seed is lacking, it can be recreated by extracting samples from the Primarch, that is, from our bodies. The Astartes are the vanguard force of the Empire in fighting against alien demons and traitors in every corner of the galaxy."

After pondering for a moment, Guilliman glanced at the space warriors around him and said, "In a sense, Astartes is similar to the space warriors under your command."