Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Guilliman is sitting in a makeshift command post conducting command work - don't get me wrong, not commanding a war, but post-disaster reconstruction and restoration.

The scans provided by the Vengeance in Terra's orbit were developed by Guilliman for a whole new purpose. This ability to accurately grasp the battlefield situation is worth more than a hundred scouts, and a thousand so-called high. Accurate simulation sand table.

In front of him was a personal terminal from the Vengeance, and a blue light curtain appeared in front of him. It was clear how many people were participating in the disaster relief near the palace, and where there were refugees who had not yet been evacuated.

Guilliman, though, was restless, very restless. His fingers tapped on the table, his brows furrowed, and he glanced diagonally behind from time to time.

It stands to reason that he should not show such a restless expression. The war is over and they are victorious. The Emperor even survived and stepped down from the throne. Never in the past 10,000 years has the Empire had such a bright future to look forward to.

...Actually, the reason is very simple.

The Emperor was sitting behind him.

He came here silently, without the Imperial Army, without notifying anyone. Guilliman thought he'd seen a ghost when he opened the door.

He was stunned for twenty seconds before he regained his senses, and then quickly let the Emperor in. Unlike the man in golden armor that often appeared on murals, he only wore a white robe and was tall enough to reach Guilliman's chest. When Guilliman asked him if he had anything important for him to do, the Emperor told him.

"You're busy with your work, I'll take a look."

......

What are you looking for?

Guilliman didn't dare to ask, and he didn't want to let go of his work to ask the matter clearly. He had to command the Astartes' actions in a state of restlessness. The four companies of the Ultramarines and the five companies of the Imperial Fist participated in the disaster relief. It stands to reason that they would not be involved in such an operation, however, no one has made any comments.

After all, there is a shortage of manpower now, and the Astartes are well aware of this. After fighting side by side with those heroic spirits, they also seem to have a new understanding of their responsibilities. And these two legions are known for their kindness to mortals, and it is not surprising that they would make such a decision. Some nuns and the Astral Army were quite frightened by this.

A new order was issued, and Guilliman sighed. The reconstruction plan for the vicinity of the palace is almost complete... But, this kind of thing should not have been left to him. His 'talent' is not here.

However, the remaining brothers are even more unreliable. One is still on the Vengeance, the other is searching the world for residual demons to kill, and the other has just returned from the headquarters of the Inquisition. And the remaining two... Guilliman couldn't imagine what those two bastards would look like in command.

The sound of fingers tapping on the table stopped, Guilliman pursed his lips, and turned away. The chair clicked. The Emperor sat in the chair behind him, his back straight, and there was no emotion in his eyes that he could see.

"...Father." It was extremely difficult to say the word from his mouth. "What on earth are you going to do?"

"I'm thinking."

His father, the Emperor of Men, spoke in an easy-going tone that he had never heard before: "You are doing well, once the reconstruction of the vicinity of the palace is complete, we will be able to communicate again. The whole of Terra. The worst-hit nests should all be salvaged from collapse."

"You're missing something, though." The Emperor turned to a very serious tone.

"Mars. From the start of the war to the present, the only support we have received is the Taranis family knights who were already on the ground. The team of Imperial Fist Astartes you sent has not given you any reply. "

"They may just not be able to reach us.

"

"It's impossible," said the Emperor sternly. "Do you think there will be no means of direct contact with us on the Martian side? Robert, remember, you must not miss any clues. You can be careless, but the cost may be countless lives. You sit in this position, you must Do your best. Because only in this way can you avoid those needless deaths.”

Guilliman lowered his head and replied in a muffled voice, "...I see, father."

He was kind of incredible.

Is the Emperor teaching him? This......

"I don't mean to blame you."

The Emperor slowed his tone and even began to smile: "No one can do better than you in your seat. Robert, I understand how you feel when you wake up. But at least, now you're not alone. One, you have a lot of new helpers. Maybe you should trust them more."

"It's rebuilding, Father," Guilliman couldn't help retorting. "Frank, Crane, Steve—they all have their own talents, but definitely not this one. And Angron and Fulgrim .

"Then have you asked them?"

Guilliman was stunned by the Emperor's words.

"You should ask them, Robert. You can't arrange everyone's path, it's nice to have their own role...but everyone has their own ideas."

The Emperor whispered, "Like me, I never asked each of you if you wanted to be what you are. I designed your future, your character, and even your abilities. But I never asked if you would."

"...I apologize to you, Robert."

"There are many things that could have been avoided long ago, but my willful actions made them happen. I also made them succeed. I have been reflecting on my mistakes for 10,000 years, and finally I have come to the conclusion that fate did not cause it. What it is now. I created it - I could have had more and better options, but I chose the worst."

"I could have a long talk with Lorgar, but I didn't. I could tell him personally how displeased I was with the city he built, but neither did I. I just let you go and destroy the city— What an ambiguous order? I've made a gap between your brothers, and I've made Lorgar resent me."

Guilliman listened in silence, and he said nothing.

"Not to mention Angron." The Emperor closed his eyes. "To take all the blame and put the blame on yourself will cause you to lose sight of the faces of the people around you, and it will make you demand the same things you do about yourself. It will make you a... jerk. Would things have changed if I had been more patient with him?"

silence.

No one spoke, only the light curtain made a humming sound.

After an unknown amount of time, the Emperor opened his eyes: "Continue your work, Robert, and take proper rest."

"What are you going to do, father?"

"Do what a father should have done."

When the emperor came to the door, he wanted to open the door and leave, but suddenly paused. The golden light poured over the doorknob from his hand, and he turned his head and lipped to Guilliman. The primarchs of the Ultramarines were stunned, then immediately stood up silently and came to the door.

The Emperor pushed open the door, and the three fell in.

"Oh, hello Robert, long time no see!"

One of them with a pair of wings immediately stood up, and at the same time left Angron on the left and Fulgrim on the right without a trace, he greeted Guilliman with a bright smile: "I hope you and Father's conversation went smoothly, haha, we just arrived!"

"right?"

He looked at Angron. The latter raised his hand unnaturally, scratched his head, and then looked away: "Well. We, just- just arrived."

"Right, if you don't believe me, you can ask Fulgan, you know, he doesn't lie."

Fulgrim lowered his head, as if to see how much dust was on the ground of the makeshift command post.

Guilliman sighed, but said nothing. He stepped forward with the Emperor's smile and gave Sanguinius a big hug.

"Heaven Comes"

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