I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 586 Talassin: I even collected the Primarch Mother
"What? Tarachin, you're saying you're going to return these two Voyagers to me?"

"It's so kind of you!"

Zhou Yun looked at Tarasin with a smile.

Taraxin's quantum brain actually paused for a moment, taking three to five seconds to grasp the meaning of Zhou Yun's words.
But by the time he realized it, it was too late.
The two Voyager probes, which he had collected for tens of thousands of years, were stuffed into the pocket on Zhou Yun's stomach in the blink of an eye.

Tarasin slightly opened his metal mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately he didn't.

God of all machines, primordial power, soul of machinery. Those words flashed through Tarachin's mind.

Even the most precious artifacts cannot compare to the fleeting nature of a soul.
"Tarachin, is this all your collection is worth?"

Zhou Yun turned his head and said to Tarasin with a slight smile.

Tarazin instinctively sensed danger and involuntarily took a step back.
He couldn't help but scoff inwardly, feeling like he'd been treated like a fool.

Having just lost an important collection, would he really offer up an even more precious one?
Although Tarasin always enjoyed displaying his exhibits to visitors, couldn't he resist the urge? Would he really exhibit his more valuable items knowing that his collection might be stolen?
How could that be! Could it be that Talasin, like those brain-damaged undead, couldn't control his obsessions and instincts?
“I have an even rarer piece in my collection.”

"This artifact is one of a kind in the Milky Way."

"And it is closely related to you, the Primarchs."

Tarasin spoke to Zhou Yun and the Primarchs in a boastful tone.

A deathly silence filled the air.

Tarasin himself was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help but lower his head, as if he was very annoyed.

Tarachin was not a miser, the kind of person who would steal precious historical artifacts from the galaxy and then hide them in a dark warehouse, never to see the light of day again.

Tarachin was a witness to and protector of history; his duty was to preserve the history of the galaxy and leave it for posterity to admire.
The key is to pay homage. If no one pays homage, history will be forgotten, and Tarachin cannot allow that.

In particular, the artifact he was preparing to display was closely related to the protogenes.

The reaction of the Primarch upon seeing that artifact could also be considered a historical moment worth recording.

Taracin could no longer contain himself and couldn't help but want to show his collection to Zhou Yun and the other Primarchs.

"What is it?" Fugen was the first to show curiosity. He was very eager to know what kind of collection made Tarasin so proud.
Moreover, according to Taracin, this artifact is also closely related to the Primarch.
"Could it be the Blood Stack?" Fugen had heard of that divine object from Fabius. It was said to contain the complete genetic sequences of the twenty-one Primarchs. Fabius coveted it but had been searching for it in vain.

“That is indeed a treasure worthy of collection!” Taracin exclaimed involuntarily. “But according to my historical research, that treasure should be in the hands of my dear friend, His Excellency Belisarius Caul.”

“My lab needs a new security system,” Belissau Caul said coldly.

“I can arrange for Blood Raven to guard you,” Saint Gilles chuckled, jokingly.

"You're not going to tell us that the emperor on the golden throne is a fake, and the real one is in your collection, are you?" Guilliman glanced at the pretentious Tarasin and said with his cold, eccentric humor.

"Do you know what's more boring than Guilliman's serious face?"

Fugen shrugged and said:

"It's Guilliman trying to tell a joke."

Fugen's words successfully made Guilliman's expression twitch, and made Saint Gilles and Zhou Yun smile. Even Belissau Caul couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"I've always wanted to recreate the scene near the Golden Throne. If you don't mind contributing to galactic history, please allow me to enter the Throne Room—"

“I mind, I won’t allow it.” Guilliman shook his head and rejected Tarasin’s proposal: “The Emperor is of indispensable value to the current human empire.”

Tarasin shook his head slightly, expressing his regret.

“This piece of mine is not related to all Primarchs, but only to one Primarch,” Tarasin continued, feigning mystery.

Only related to one Primarch? This statement caused the three Primarchs present to raise their eyebrows slightly.

Tarasin was pleased with their expressions and let out a chuckle:

"My museum houses countless historical artifacts from the Milky Way."

"The head of Saint Sebastian Thor, the Imperial Guard, Creed, the last lord of Cadia Fortress, and a world soul."

“Even clones of your race’s original genes were once displayed on my shelf.”

Tarachin looked at Fugen, who was not angry, but simply smiled and nodded.

"But none of these can compare to the uniqueness of this artifact. It belongs to a Primarch, but most other Primarchs do not possess it."

"It is extremely rare and has always been the most important piece in my collection of human artifacts."

Tarasin raised his voice and declared:

“I, Tarasin, curator of the Solemnas Museum, even possess a Primarch Mother in my collection.”

Mother of Primarch
The mother of the body.
Mother
母.
Taracin's voice echoed through the museum.
Belissau Caul, Fugan, and Saint Gillespie almost simultaneously gasped, then turned to look at Robert Guilliman.
The Primarch Mother is a concept that is extremely unfamiliar to the vast majority of Primarchs.
Neither Fugen nor Saint Gilles had anyone who could be called a mother, and the vast majority of Primarchs were similar; they might have foster fathers or grandfathers, but most did not have mothers.
As for the Primarch Mother, the only person Fugen and Saint Gilles could think of was Robert Guilliman's foster mother, the venerable Mrs. Euton. Guilliman's muscles tensed, and he took a deep breath, trying to remain calm as he said, "That's impossible."

“I know it’s unbelievable, but I truly do possess the Primarch Mother!” Tarasin was pleased with Guilliman’s performance, relishing the expressions of awe on others’ faces at the sight of his collection.

"Where is she?" Guilliman growled, feeling his reason was losing control of his emotions.

“Her?” Tarasin paused, taken aback.

But before he could speak, Guilliman growled again, "Where is she?"

“She’s there,” Tarasin waved to signal everyone to follow him.

Guilliman's breathing grew heavier and heavier as he walked, muttering, "How is this possible?", yet his eyes held a glimmer of expectation.

But beyond the expectations, Guilliman's expression was also somewhat complicated.
"Don't you want to see her?" Saint Gilles asked softly.

"I might have hoped so, but I thought she was already at peace."

Guilliman shook his head slightly:
"I find it hard to say whether staying in this terrible world for ten thousand years or dying is worse."

"Perhaps it would be worse to stay in this world for ten thousand years."

“But she definitely wants to see you, brother.” Fugan reached out and patted Guilliman on the shoulder. “Mortals aren’t as fragile as you think, especially not a hero among mortals.”

Guilliman was taken aback by Fuchs's words of comfort. He looked at Fuchs as if he were looking at a somewhat unfamiliar person.

The group followed Taracin to the depths of the museum, to a heavy black stone door.

"Beyond this door lies one of my most prized collections, the mother of the original rare treasure."

"Back then, to collect it, I braved the cold wind in Fen..."

"Open the door!" Guilliman finally couldn't contain his eagerness any longer; he had no interest in hearing Tarachin's account of how he acquired the collection.

Tarachin was stunned by Guilliman's words and instinctively obeyed Guilliman's command, turning around to open the exhibition hall door, as if his body was being forcibly controlled by some irresistible order.

“That’s a necromancer, you know. He’s practically immune to the warp.” Saint Gilles said, slightly astonished, as he watched this scene.

Fugan glanced at Guilliman with a strange expression. He could vaguely sense that some kind of warp force had just forcibly distorted reality, causing a reversal of reality and fate, and even affecting the undead Tarasin.
Guilliman was completely oblivious to all of this. He simply took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control his emotions, but his gaze remained fixed on the slowly opening door.
The black stone gates hissed open under Tarachin's control, revealing the exhibition hall behind them to Guilliman.

There was only one exhibit in the exhibition hall, enveloped by a humming static field.

The snowflakes falling from the sky, the snow swirling on the ground, the icicles falling from the cliff, and even the strong, proud she-wolf seemed to freeze in that instant.
Wait, a she-wolf??

Guilliman looked left and right, but couldn't see the figure he remembered.
All that was in front of him was the she-wolf.
“Her?” Guilliman vaguely realized something.

“It,” Taracin corrected, “is Leman Russ’s foster mother.”

For a moment, the air fell silent. Fugen couldn't help but shake his head, Saint Gilles turned to look at Zhou Yun, and Belissau Caul covered his face.

Only at this moment did they suddenly remember,
Guilliman was not the only Primarch who had an adoptive mother.

Ruth also had one; Ruth was raised by wolves on Fenris, and he had a wolf mother.

“Ruth the fuck!” Guilliman couldn’t help but growl under his breath.

“Ruth’s fucking.” Fugan nodded in agreement.

Tarasin was also a little embarrassed by the atmosphere. He said in a low voice, "Your mother, Mrs. Euton, died of old age. She passed away before she heard the news of your collapse. Although she regretted not being able to see you one last time, she passed away peacefully."

At the time, the Ultramarines were in chaos because of Guilliman's fall, and the records were lost. Guilliman never knew what happened to Mrs. Yotton.

Hearing this from Tarachin's mouth now, I feel a little complicated.

"How could you be so mean?" Saint Gilles looked at Zhou Yun with a hint of helplessness and said, "You know perfectly well. You have such a twisted sense of humor."

A wicked smile played on Zhou Yun's lips.

Looking at Zhou Yun's expression, Saint Gilles didn't know whether to be happy that Zhou Yun still had human emotions, or to shake his head because he was too wicked.

"The first time I saw this scene, when the door opened and it was Ruth's wolf mother, I couldn't help but burst out laughing."

Zhou Yun couldn't help but shake his head and say:
"This is really one of the few things that I find somewhat interesting these days."

He reached up and rubbed his temples, then smiled and said, "I know this is a really bad joke, but I'll make it up to Guilliman, believe me."

"When you have time, I'll go with you to Baal to sell chicken sauce?" Saint Gilles suddenly said inexplicably, his worry lessening as he looked at Zhou Yun.

This made Zhou Yun smile, and he said to Saint Gilles, "This is the second thing that can make me laugh out loud."

(End of this chapter)