I am the magnetic field maniac

"It seems that you are doing really well. This old bacon... really fits the "God" you need perfectly." Angron looked at the motionless Emperor and said jokingly...

"Do you still want to use your poisonous words to harm the people of the Empire?" Guilliman said coldly.

"Don't try to sound so indignant here, Guilliman," Lorgar sneered.

"Why do you keep deceiving yourself? Guilliman, I don't want to argue with you. Why don't you talk to him himself?"

"Think about it carefully. Without his permission, how could I be here? How could I play the role he wants me to play?"

Then He spoke.

In words of light and fire, the Emperor spoke to His returned Primarch, His final and most perfect creation. His Preliminary Plan, His Numbered Son, Robouti Guilliman.

"Child, Thirteenth, Guilliman, traitor, liar..."

It was just a name, but Guilliman heard it as if thousands of people were speaking at the same time.

The living Emperor is a man of unrivaled skill, able to read the minds of others as skillfully as He conceals His own thoughts.

Now, His power is beyond imagination, but He has lost the subtlety He had when He walked among men.

To speak to the Emperor was like speaking to the stars. His words burned him.

But it’s the words that remain unsaid that hurt the most.

The Emperor welcomed Guilliman, not as a father finding his son, but as a craftsman finding a beloved tool that has been lost.

He was like a prisoner in an iron cage to whom a file was handed.

Guilliman had no hallucinations. He was not the one who handed the file to the Emperor, he was the file himself, the Emperor's tool.

When the Emperor walked the earth, He clothed His manipulation in the guise of love. He made the Primarchs call Him Father;

He allowed the Primarchs to call themselves His Sons. Though He rarely used these words, Guilliman came to realize that when the Emperor spoke them, He never meant them.

Overwhelmed by the Emperor's powerful will, the sacred cloak covering the corpse had already slipped away in Guilliman's eyes.

What he saw was the truest appearance of the man with countless faces.

Angron was right, the Emperor was a lunatic, the biggest lunatic in the entire galaxy.

He had gone mad ten thousand years ago or even earlier. His will and soul have countless aspects, and he would only show his aspect and appearance at the appropriate time.

He has played the roles of countless great men in human history, and the personalities and performances of those people are completely different - is that a disguise? Not entirely, at least the Emperor has engraved those aspects deeply into his bones.

Did the Emperor have love in the past? Perhaps it was just one of his many aspects, showing the way a father should be to his Primarch.

But now, ten thousand years later, he can no longer show those things about himself.

Perhaps those fragments representing love have been lost in the galaxy, or perhaps they were destroyed in the hands of Horus and the gods.

The Emperor made them love Him, and made them believe they were loved in return. But He was not. His Primarch was a weapon, nothing more.

While his power was immense, perhaps even greater than before his Ascension, nothing of the Emperor's humanity remained.

He could no longer hide His thoughts behind the mask of humanity.

The Emperor's light was blinding, all was in sight, but finally - finally - Guilliman could see the whole picture.

The one he had thought was his father could no longer hide himself.

The Emperor did not love his sons. They were objects. Guilliman, his brothers, were tools to an end, nothing more.

The Emperor is no longer human.

The ruthlessness and indifference were so pure, and what a blow it was to a Primarch like Guilliman who had once felt that the Emperor was a father figure - but Angron, what about him?

"Hahaha!"

He was laughing wildly, laughing extremely happily, it was the happiest time he had laughed since he was born!!

There is no reason, or the only reason is simply because he has determined what kind of person the Emperor is!

Just think that he is gloating over other people's misfortune, and that he has the mentality that if I can't get it, no one else can get it.

The Emperor, he really did regard himself as a useless tool!

After confirming this, Angron felt extremely fucking happy!

Look at you favored primarchs, whether it's Guilliman or Sanguinius, in the end, we are just tools!!

Since they are all tools, is there any difference between good and bad, favored and despised?

Angron stared at the Emperor. Unlike Guilliman, he saw a tyrant who was even more cruel, colder, and more insane!

The greatest lie is that the Emperor loves us all, but the truth is that the corpse that has sat on the throne for ten thousand years is about to lose even his last love for humanity.

This is the Cursed One, a lunatic who is considered a madman by the Four Gods of Chaos!

Angron also understood why Lorgar was so convinced by such a thing.

Because this is the god that Lorgar longs for, this is the object of worship that Lorgar hopes to worship!

Cold, resolute, unchanging, and treating believers like grass is even higher than the dome of cruelty.

Lorgar had finally found a god he could worship at will and who would never let his expectations down.

That’s why he laughed so happily. He was just like me, Angron thought.

He had long understood that the Emperor viewed him as a broken tool, but Lorgar was quite happy to accept the meaning of being the Emperor's tool.

This is the sense of belonging that Lorgar has always been pursuing, the feeling of being needed by the god he worships.

Guilliman paid no attention to Angron, who was laughing like crazy, nor to the smug Lorgar... As his thoughts intertwined with the Emperor's, he was trying to understand the Emperor's message.

There are too many things that need to be explained - as the Son of the Holy Numbers and the Emperor's backup plan, there is no doubt that Guilliman will always be the heir that the Emperor values.

A great many secrets were poured into Guilliman's mind, whether he was willing to accept them or not.

After a ten-minute long stagnation, time in the throne room finally began to flow again.

Guilliman breathed heavily, like a drowning man.

The look in his eyes when he looked up at the Emperor had completely changed. There was no longer any expectation or disappointment, only sadness and calmness.

Yes, he understood everything.

What the Emperor wants to do, what the Emperor will do—

Even though what remained on the throne now was a cold and indifferent corpse, Guilliman still admired him and felt even more sorry for him.

The time that belongs to the Emperor and the Empire...is actually running out.

Guilliman's breathing gradually calmed down, and he turned his head away from the Emperor. He didn't want to see his father's miserable appearance, so he just walked away from the golden throne without any regrets.

"I was going to give you a good slap right now," Angron said, laughing at the ignorant corpse.

"But now you are even more miserable than I thought. It's worse than death! I will postpone the time of slapping you, hahahaha!!"

After that, he laughed wildly and followed Guilliman out of the throne room.

He must slap the Emperor in the face, but not now—he wants to slap the Emperor in the face, not the face of a rotten corpse!

He didn't have to wait much longer.

When morning prayers sounded again and the lumen lamps shone brightly, the door to the throne room finally opened;

In just a short time inside the throne room, almost a week had passed outside.

This time, a shimmering mist poured out from the gate, cold and white like the silver moonlight. And from this cold light, two Primarchs stepped out.

The wildly laughing Angron and the silent Guilliman formed a sharp contrast... and in these seven days, Terra had gathered too many survivors.

From the Custodes to the Astartes, from the High Lords of Terra to the common people, and the war machines that completely surrounded the Imperial Palace from inside to outside -

If it weren't for the resistance of Trajan and the Imperial Guards, the remaining forces of these high lords would have been ready to attack the throne room.

They looked at Guilliman and Angron with eyes that showed both respect for the Primarch and strong hostility and hatred.

But more ignorant lower-class people and soldiers, even though they suffered, when they faced the "Son of God", they were just craving for divine revelation.

The shocked and terrified crowd suddenly burst into shouts begging the Primarch for enlightenment. Guilliman looked at these people sadly, for he already knew that the poison of faith could never be eradicated.

The Emperor carries the poison of faith, which brings him the power of protection, but also causes him to suffer forever.

"He's right there."

Looking at Trajan and all the humans here, Guilliman just whispered a piece of news that shook their souls.

"He's coming back."

"My father, the Emperor of Mankind, is about to be resurrected."

146. Bai Wujie and the Emperor

The Eternal Lord gazes upon the Emperor of Mankind.

The rulers of the Eldar and the rulers of men stared at each other.

Alone in this throne room filled with light, Bai Qianshuang stared fearlessly at the greatest tyrant in human history, and said playfully...

"I guess you didn't keep me here just to "cure" you."

He held the Star of Avalon in his hand, and the emerald power of the mother goddess Isa echoed on the scepter. There was no doubt that this power was used to revive the greatest tyrant.

In the entire galaxy, only Isha's power can revive the Emperor from this sad state and return him to his former body.

But the price to be paid is undoubtedly extremely huge.

The body of the cursed one that had been tortured for thousands of years, the pitiful soul dominated by pain and psychic tearing, reshaping his wounded body, even Isa had to pay a heavy price.

Perhaps the cycle with Nurgle that could have been maintained would be broken, and Isa might even become a part of Nurgle.

Even the goddess of life, Isa, will completely disappear in the entire galaxy.

This was not an excessive price to pay, because if one wanted to awaken a dying Dark Lord and allow a being whose essence was no different from the Chaos God to walk the earth, paying these prices was only natural.

The subspace is fair, you get as much as you give. Even gods cannot escape the cruel law of exchange in the torrent of the universe.

Moreover, even though Bai Qianshuang's body was the only material existence that Isa could find in the entire galaxy that could carry the most of her divine power, this was the limit of what she could do.

This was undoubtedly a cruel condition that was unacceptable to the elves, so Isa hid it from everyone except Bai Qianshuang.

The loving Isa may be the only truly kind deity in the entire galaxy today, and even so, her devotion to the Emperor is conditional.

She asked the Emperor not to take the initiative to target the Eldar in the future.

If the two tribes went to war for their own reasons, that would be another matter...

But the Emperor can never massacre the Eldar either by himself or by ordering his children!

Is this too much to ask? Not too much.

In the eyes of Isa, who possesses perhaps the only remaining divine motherly heart in the entire galaxy, she just wants a promise from the Emperor.

During the long suffering, Isha's tears never stopped...

She had long understood that if the entire galaxy continued to fight each other without restraint and be xenophobic without limits, then the chaos would never subside.

The Eldar were once part of that madness. They slaughtered countless races on their way to rise, and even destroyed the gods of many other races in the past.

Now, it is the turn of humans, and humans are even more extreme than the elves in the past.

Enough is enough, this cannot go on any longer.

If neither side has the choice to tolerate the other, then chaos will only become stronger. If life in the mortal world continues to be so rotten, then the mirror that reflects it will only become more terrifying!

Isa stared at the Emperor, she pleaded with this insane Lord of Humanity, she just hoped that he could make even a little rational choice.

And as he stared, the Emperor spoke.

"Intruder!"

"People from a foreign land!"

"Evil!"

"You shouldn't exist in this world!"

Countless faces, countless voices, burst out along with the psychic illusions revealed by the corpse!

The reverberating torrent from the soul constantly vibrates in reality, scattering the ashes of the soul in this golden hall.

The Emperor looked extremely terrifying! Under the light of the cold sun, countless faces were wailing together.

The terrifying appearance was no different from those of the Chaos Evil Gods, and any mortal with an average mind would go crazy the moment they saw it.