Warhammer: Start with a dog

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The highest sky behind the veil, the vast ocean, the sea of ​​souls, or the most well-known name, the warp, when it was created and how it specifically interacts with the real world in a regular manner has always been an unsolved mystery.

Some scholars also believe that perhaps the lack of regularity is its law.

The reason why it is used as a metaphor for various water bodies in the mystical and psychic works of many different worlds, cultures and races is precisely because this is the easiest analogy to find when explaining to people who cannot see the warp with their own eyes.

It is a dark, deep, formless existence that exists like "black water". Any major event involving enough people in the real universe, or changes that are enough to change the direction of fate, or the death or life of important people at the node of fate - some demons are born with this, and some are pushed by the hand of fate - whether they are good or bad, they also come from the revelations conveyed by the ripples and echoes of the past and future in the deep ocean of the warp.

As the only loyal Primarch whose whereabouts could still be observed at the end of the 41st Millennium, Robouti Guilliman's "return from death" undoubtedly fully meets this definition.

Behind the curtain that Honsou and others could not see, the two major events of Guilliman's "stolen" and "resurrection" were like two huge asteroids falling in succession in the middle of the dark and rolling ocean of the Sea of ​​Souls. As the shock waves they caused spread outward, the momentum of the psychic tsunami formed would become more and more turbulent and violent, and would eventually evolve into a disaster of overwhelming magnitude in this space - it should have been so.

But what if someone cleverly placed a seemingly useless advance move before the game of chess began thousands of steps... and replaced the huge asteroid with two small meteor dust...?

Then perhaps, many beings would still notice this matter, but again, because the ripples caused by the two small meteors in the subspace were not large enough, or there were some psychics who deliberately concealed and misled. Finally, these noticed that it was difficult for them to see through the veil and determine exactly what happened on Macragge that day, and who was sitting in the Hera Fortress now.

Only the Secret Crystal Labyrinth and its surroundings were once again hit by the hurricane of Sinrezhi's laughter. The storm with the shattered fragments of the Fate Crystal was so huge that the spies of the other three gods could not check what happened at the border to make the Lord of Fate and Change so happy.

Therefore, when the two things "Robert Guilliman's tomb was probably opened by an unknown disturbance" and "The living saint suspected to be the incarnation of Robert Guilliman appeared" were reported to the demon primarchs favored by the dark gods, the reactions were also different.

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When this news was passed to Fulgrim by the Keeper's maid and the succubus in whispers and sweet voices, the demon lord, who was curling up his snake tail and lazily leaning on the throne wrapped in expensive fabrics made of delicate skin and tear-stained eyelashes, and picking the soul stones like gem grapes from each other with his favorite concubine Enkali, picked up his wine glass with a bit of lack of interest.

"It's not him... possessed by a living saint... So my dull and boring brother Robert finally died after lingering for nine thousand years?"

After drinking several cups of exquisite wine, each of which was brewed with the suffering and tears of a thousand slaves, Fulgrim made a decision. The Daemon Lord decided to send a disguised delegation to Macragge to find out what was going on. If there really was such a person as the soul incarnation of Roboute Guilliman, the Keepers of the Secrets would immediately capture him and offer Guilliman's soul, which had lost the protection of his Primarch's body, to Fulgrim and the Dark Prince, so that the Emperor's last loyal son would become one of the main entertainment contents of the indulgent banquets in the eternal enjoyment of Slaanesh's palace.

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Deep in the Crystal Labyrinth and Tzeentch's domain, the great daemons and fate weavers were busy with their own affairs. Almost all of the most powerful and beloved name holders among them were swept into the hurricane, and now they could not leave or observe the changes in the threads of fate. They could only struggle and beg Sirenji to stop his wild laughter first.

Only one side of Carlos' head foresaw this change. The great weaver escaped the storm raised by the Lord of Change at the critical moment and began to follow the destiny he saw to the galaxy.

On the distant Sorcerer Star, the Demon Prince Magnus was laughing heartily. Since the shock of Magnus' death that resounded throughout the Milky Way, his authority and legitimacy on the Sorcerer Star had been questioned privately more than once. Many Thousand Sons wizards who had originally stayed here began to find excuses to flee here with their Rubric Warriors, or simply disappeared without a trace along with the Silver Tower one day.

This trend of escape, which clearly showed that they had doubted him, once made the Scarlet King extremely angry: the Thousand Sons Legion was once his most beloved son, but now it was just a necessary slave warrior that the Demon Lord urgently needed to drive in order to complete the correct and glorious future that he believed he had predicted. If Robert Guilliman's soul really descended into a mortal body this time, then capturing a loyal Primarch and enslaving his soul would undoubtedly drive more sorcerer warriors, and even use it to threaten the Ultramarines and their descendants to offer him the Librarian as a new candidate for Thousand Sons transformation.

He smiled as he thought of the beautiful future scenes in his plan. The crystal feather louse carried by the lost spell flew out from under his feathers, issuing a terrifying call to his descendants, using the aftermath of the scarlet letter to collect the soul imprints of any descendants who dared to evade or escape, forcing them to come back and gather under his command, step by step, first of all -

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On the plague planet full of virus-causing fog, the pale Lord of Death also received the latest news about his brother.

Mortarion's emotions were as quiet as his anger. It was just a mere soul incarnation that would not cause him to interrupt his work to go and check or capture it in person.

Besides, this guy who always said he insisted on being rational, didn't he still play this kind of soul witchcraft? It must be a trick of his wizards, haha.

Mortarion's disdainful and morbid bright yellow eyes swept over the Death Guard Corps and equipment that he had quietly prepared for many years on the ground of the Plague Planet. The arrival of each Great Company could cause an entire imperial world to quickly die in the scale of millions of people in the terrible plague and poison, becoming fertile soil in the Garden of the Kind Father or the walking corpses that spread His gospel.

Soon. He comforted himself, soon, his numerology told him that soon, he would let all those who betrayed him taste his anger that erupted in silence, and let everyone know that the corrupt life force brought by the Kind Father is the most eternal truth in this world.

But before that... Mortarion pondered, an inexplicable thought quietly stirred his mind. Speaking of which, Mortarion had heard about Typhons's previous great defeat in Medusa in the gossip rumors of the Kind Father's Garden. Perhaps he could take the opportunity to exert his authority and let this heir who always annoyed him go there first to see what happened...?

If nothing happened, it would be better to let him learn a lesson. Lest he always be restless; if something happens, Mortarion believes that with Typhons' ability, he will definitely leave indelible festering marks on Macragge and his brothers.

The Lord of Death took out a set of virus dice made of the bones of the dead with seven different plagues and scattered them on the ground casually.

The numbers rolled, and finally a few numbers between three and eleven appeared.

Mortarion happily obtained a large number of holy numbers from the loving father.

Very good, let's do it.

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As the black legion gathered like a bloody storm cloud and prepared to go to Cadia to complete their assigned mission, the prophet Moriana and the chief wizard Zarafiston simultaneously presented a warning prophecy to their master: a primarch descended on Macragge. The fate of Robert Guilliman has changed. It will have an unignorable impact on the outcome of this black expedition, and will also greatly affect the fate of everyone.

Although the prophecy was vague and full of variables, the two powerful wizards and the prophet foresaw the same sign involving a Primarch at the same time, which was a message that the Warmaster could not ignore. However, the 13th Dark Crusade had already begun, and it was a bit difficult to deploy an additional fleet and manpower strong enough to go to the Ultramarine in the opposite direction of the Eye of Terror.

But perhaps there was a way to kill two birds with one stone.

After weighing the pros and cons, the Warmaster sent an envoy with some "gifts" to deliver his order to the Pirate King sitting in the palace of the closest and most powerful traitor stronghold to the Ultramarine.

The Lord of the Maelstrom had promised to provide the Warmaster with the help he deserved, and now was the time.

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Would Robert Guilliman so easily trust an apothecary wearing the traitor armor he knew?

Adalic Vannus had not learned the skills of the Librarian, nor did he have the gifted eyes. He could not see through the fog shrouded in the Primarch's mind, and he did not know.

However, when the Ultramarines Master asked Honso to "let him see the diary of Hestiaan who was made into a machine soul or talk to him", the Raven Guard was still sweating secretly.

The Master of Apothecary looked normal, and even replied to the Primarch with some embarrassment that Sergeant Hestiaan's mind had been brainwashed too many times and could hardly distinguish the person in front of him. He might mistake his beloved father or say something inappropriate for an Astartes.

Of course, hearing such an excuse, people like Robert Guilliman would not say "Oh, okay" and walk away.

Instead, he insisted that Honso wake up Hestiaan and said that he would never "blame his offspring, because this is not what he wanted to do."

Having said that, Honso naturally had to wake up the technical sergeant sleeping in the tank in front of them with embarrassment - the brain connected to the spine.

The Thirteenth Primarch finally got a glimpse of the life, battles and experiences of his offspring nine thousand years later.

However, what shocked Guilliman first was that Hestiaan, as a technical sergeant, trained on Mars, actually kept a certain distance from his brothers in the Chapter because he believed in Om Messiah instead of his father, the Emperor. It can be said that there was a gap of distrust. After returning, he spent most of his time in the armory or hangar.

"This is really...!" he murmured, "I can't describe it! My father... is not a god!"

Grendel's face was distorted, and he kept winking at Honso.

Therefore, Hestiaan's sources of information were different from those of other officers. He could only get a relatively narrow range of information from him, but the amount of information contained in it was enough to shock and amaze the Primarch who had just woken up.

He was happy that Macragge and his descendants still stood and shone in the center of Ultramar after all the hardships and battles.

He was also shocked by what happened in the Empire after he was thought to have died.

Suddenly waking up from his dream, Guilliman looked around the Empire today. All the rational and pragmatic rules of behavior he was familiar with had disappeared in the long river of time, and the beautiful picture his father showed them at the beginning had not been realized at all.

What is even more tragic and terrifying is that the future development filled with madness and terror that he and his loyal brothers and descendants fought, struggled, and tried to avoid has become a fait accompli in the entire human empire for thousands of years after his death. Many of his brothers have become unable to speak for themselves, and then they have been worshipped as gods in the crazy belief. Even he, whose body can be cherished and protected by his descendants, has been portrayed as a flesh idol left in the world by a legendary god.

Now, only a few of his brothers, most of whom are either souls or bodies incomplete, have awakened and found opportunities to escape from the judgment of the terrifying religious lunatics, fleeing to the border and lingering. Most of the Astartes who were supposed to fight for their fathers have become equally mired in superstition because of the holy scriptures, long-standing agreements, and the spirit and teachings lost with the death of generations of old warriors.

To be honest, speaking of this, Roboute Guilliman suspected that many of the difficulties and experiences of the Adeptus Astartes after his own and his brothers' death or disappearance were inseparable from the fact that the mortal organizations that his father and Malcador had conceived and established on Terra had strangled the deadly logistical channels and gene-seed supply. At the same time, he was shocked that the temporary instruction manual he wrote, the Codex Astartes, was still in use.

"It's been written for nine thousand years!" The Primarch said in an incredible tone, "Has no one thought of modifying it to keep up with the times in nine thousand years?!"

Hestian's brain waves showed extremely uneasy turbulence because of this sentence, and lines of fierce words began to appear on the interactive panel, as if he wanted to seriously and worriedly emphasize to the Primarch the sanctity of the Codex and that the Holy Book was the ancestral law that could not be tampered with.

Guilliman looked up at the Master of Apothecary with even greater shock, and the latter walked forward and added some sedatives to the Tech-Sergeant's brain.

"See, sir. I told you what I said." Hong Suo shrugged. "Now the few of us, and you, may be the biggest heretics in the entire Extreme Star Region - we don't believe that your father is the Divine Emperor!"