Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 904 You Have the Right to Choose

"It seems that we old clones have completely fallen behind the times."

"However, this is a good thing. If a race can only draw power from the past, then the future will inevitably be bleak."

"The fact that the older a place is, the more powerful it becomes is a very sad thing."

Lemanrus gasped for breath, then unceremoniously plopped down on the scorching crystalline ground, his hands gripping his damaged power sword, looking utterly dejected.

The series of fierce battles, coupled with the arduous journey of escape, had taken a toll on these clones who had just crawled out of the amniotic fluid tank.

In particular, because Lemanrus awoke early, these clones, in a sense, began to move prematurely before they were fully developed.

Moreover, in such a ghostly environment as the Eye of Fear, obtaining clean water or food is obviously an extremely difficult task.

After escaping from Fabius Beyer's laboratory, they received very little food and are now starving and thirsty.

Apostle Magnus smiled and shook his head. Then, with a wave of his staff, he conjured up a source of clean, edible water and a variety of different foods in front of the numerous Primarch clones.

The wolf king's nose twitched wildly; he could even smell the aroma of grains fresh from the oven, the wonderful taste of oils and proteins interacting and blending together at the right temperature.

"This, this is absolutely amazing!"

King Fenris was the Primarch who loved food and feasting the most, and now that he was starving, he could hardly endure it.

He planted his sword directly into the ground, lunged forward, and grabbed whatever was at hand, stuffing it into his mouth.

Ruth's gluttonous eating, which showed absolutely no regard for manners, helped the others recover from their shock.

The Primarch clones cursed the rude barbarians in their hearts before joining in the feeding.

Even Primarchs need to eat. Although their superhuman physiques are strong enough to sustain them for a very long time, it doesn't mean they won't get hungry or thirsty.

"Wow, you're really capable of this? You're way better than our Magnus... That guy is a complete waste. He can't do this or that, he always has a lot of excuses, and he always messes things up at crucial moments!"

He swallowed the large chunk of meat with difficulty, then looked around like a wolf, licked his lips, and added with a hint of regret.

"But why isn't there any alcohol? Even cheap Grox milk wine would be fine. If there were alcohol, this meal would be second only to the victory celebration I had after defeating Quanfu in Fenris!"

He was referring to the famous anecdote about the brothers—in terms of appetite and drinking capacity, he even surpassed the human lord who was hiding his identity.

Back when the Wolf King was still the chieftain of Fenris, the Emperor once disguised himself as a wanderer and challenged the Wolf King to fight, drinking, and other skills.

In the first two tests, even the Lord of Humanity tasted defeat at the hands of his own son.

While the Emperor devoured three ribs, Ruth had already ate three pigs. In the second round, when it came to drinking, the Emperor downed six barrels of wine, while Ruth emptied the wine cellar.

In the final round, the Emperor didn't hold back and let Russ experience what it meant to be a loving father, knocking the guy out of his wits with his fists.

When Ruth awoke, he understood the Emperor's identity and swore eternal loyalty.

The fact that Lemanrus gave it such high praise shows that the food of the Apostle Magnus was indeed excellent.

"Just eat! Shut your mouth! Enough with all that nonsense!"

"If I had that ability, I'd turn you into a whole roasted lamb first!"

Cloned Magnus casually unleashed a bolt of psionic lightning, causing the wolf king's already wild and unruly hair to stand up even more straight, comically exploding like the mane of a startled wolf.

But he immediately grabbed several pieces of bread spread with rich cheese and a large bowl of stewed meat soup, and began to replenish his energy without any regard for appearances.

Despite his anger, Cloning Magnus was in turmoil.

The subtlety of his "phantom creation" technique, the stability of his energy control, and the depth of his understanding of the nature of matter, all of which he displayed with such ease, far exceeded his comprehension.

It even far surpassed the level of Lord Prospero at his most prosperous period, as he remembered it.

He had previously believed that only the Emperor and the Marksman, Macado, could possess the ability to transform pure psionic energy into a stable, edible, and delicious physical substance.

The transformation of information, matter, and energy—this "self" before us has at least achieved the connection between energy and matter, capable of both converting matter into energy and condensing energy into concrete matter.

This is truly terrifying.

Cloning Magnus had no doubt that if he clashed with the other party, this apostle of the God Emperor could easily manipulate him like a toy with just a flick of his finger.

His most powerful psychic energy was as laughable and weak as a child holding a toy gun in front of his opponent, who could easily subdue him.

After a hearty meal, almost everyone felt a long-lost, vibrant warmth of life returning to their bodies, and the fatigue and mental tension of the past few days were largely dispelled by this "feast from heaven."

Their essence is that of humans, and humans need to eat; this is a fundamental code engraved deep in their genes that no one can transcend.

At this moment, Magnus, the apostle of the God Emperor, spoke again, drawing everyone's attention back.

"Brothers, the current crisis has temporarily subsided. I bear the heavy responsibility entrusted to me by the God Emperor and cannot stay in one place for long."

Therefore, there is one question I must clarify now: what are your plans for the future?

"Speak freely without any reservations or concealment. That terrible betrayal has already shown one thing—secrets should never be hidden, otherwise they will grow into a terrible cancer in the future."

“Speak your true thoughts, and don’t hide them for any reason.”

His deep gaze slowly swept over each clone, calmly stating a cruel reality.

"Your existence is very special, even awkward."

Compared to your original selves, who reside in the real universe and each bear a unique destiny and heavy responsibility, the very existence of you clones created by Fabius Beyer is perhaps a desecration of the original's sanctity.

To many, your mistake is one that should never have happened, is unacceptable to the world, and should never be known.

He paused briefly, giving the cloned Primarchs time to think, before Magnus continued.

"The empire today, under the glorious guidance of the God-Emperor and the Emperor, and with the arduous leadership of your original forms, has embarked on an unprecedented, perilous path, full of thorns yet brimming with hope for transcendence."

The empire's borders need to be protected, but what it needs more now is internal stability, continued development, and a strong sense of unity, rather than the unpredictable variables, potential conflicts, and identity crises brought about by more Primarchs.

Magnus's approach of dissecting everything and presenting the truth clearly to all the Primarch clones may be considered cruel, but it is indeed an effective way to reduce future pain.

If it were the naive and foolish Magnus of the past, he might never have made this choice, but he has changed a lot.

If we don't address this now, and wait until the conflict erupts later, it will only make things more difficult to handle.

"Therefore, in accordance with the God-Emperor's tolerant and loving will, I grant you the power to choose." The voice of the Apostle Magnus was calm and detached, clearly presenting two completely different paths.

"Firstly, I can use the power of the Web and psionic energy to help you completely disappear and find a peaceful, remote planet for you that has never even been recorded in the Empire's records. There, you can live out your lives in anonymity, in a way that you desire, far from war and turmoil."

“The galaxy is vast, so vast that even the current Empire cannot grasp every aspect of it, making it easy for a few Primarchs like you to hide.”

“Secondly.” Magnus’s gaze sharpened, as if he could see into the heart of every Primarch clone.

"You may choose to return to the Empire, but you must be aware that the return will not be easy: you will face rigorous scrutiny from the High Lords Council of the Empire, and your original self may not treat you kindly, or even kill you outright."

The various factions within the empire will inevitably react in complex ways, and countless unpredictable variables and potential crises will arise because of you.

After the apostle of the Divine Emperor finished speaking, a long, almost solemn silence fell over the underground cave.

Each clone was lost in deep thought, their faces displaying a complex array of emotions: struggle, confusion, longing, fear, and more.

Each Primarch has a different background and experience, and their personalities are also different. In addition, half of the Primarchs chose to follow Horus during the Great Rebellion, so they naturally had more concerns.

However, they were lucky because the God-Emperor's apostle, who could decide their life and death at will, felt that they had the right to choose.

The first to break this heavy silence was Clone Horus.

He suddenly raised his head, his face filled with an unwavering, almost obsessive determination, his eyes, once brimming with ambition, now only filled with regret and pain.

“I must go back, I must go back to the Empire, kneel before my father’s golden throne, and confess to him in person… confess the heinous sins I have committed that have destroyed the future of humanity.”

Even if my father, in his rage, were to tear me to pieces and utterly obliterate my soul, that would be the final punishment I deserve, one I must face. This is the only way I can atone for my fallen self, and the final meaning of my existence.

His voice was hoarse yet powerful, carrying a composure that remained steadfast despite having seen through everything.

“I remember my father teaching me that a great man from the time of ancient Terra once said: “There is always a kind of heroism in the world, which is to love life even after recognizing its true nature.”

"I may no longer be considered a hero, but I still want to live up to this saying: I want to face it instead of running away. That's the principle my father taught me."

A complex emotion flickered in the eyes of Magnus, the apostle of the God Emperor.

His mind went blank, as if time had reversed and Horus, who was once as radiant as the sun, had returned.

"Fabius may be crazy... but his technique is still reliable."

"The Horus he cloned is very, very similar to the original Horus."

Magnus thought to himself that he had a good relationship with Horus, which was why he panicked when he saw Horus fall into darkness, thus doing more harm than good.

Kuroguman, on the other hand, appeared more rational and cautious. He pondered for a long time, his cobalt blue eyes gleaming with the calculating light characteristic of a politician.

He looked at the apostle Magnus and asked the crucial question.

"My esteemed Primarch, may I ask what position my original self... that is, Robout Guilliman, holds in the Empire? And what thorny problems is he facing?" As the Primarch known for his macro-level perspective and management efficiency, he needs to assess the current situation as much as possible in order to make the most advantageous choice.

The apostle Magnus turned his gaze to him and told him the truth without any concealment.

"Robout Guilliman, your true form has been supporting the Empire like a pillar of strength since the Emperor ascended the Golden Throne."

Now, with the political landscape of Terra completely reshaped, he serves as the regent of the empire, ruling over the vast territory and trillions of lives of the human empire. His power is second only to the emperor, and his status is extremely revered.

But the challenges he faces are enough to terrify even the bravest challengers in the world.

The endless, frenzied invasions of the Chaos God and his minions; the fierce encroachment and erosion by various forces from all corners of the galaxy; and the administrative dysfunction and communication delays caused by the Empire's excessively vast territory...

There were far too many contradictions that he, as the regent of the empire, needed to handle; the burden on his shoulders was heavy enough to crush any outstanding statesman.

"Although the current Empire has the Sealholder and the High Lord Council to help Guilliman deal with the problem, as well as supercomputers that are shielded from the corruption of the warp, and Stone Men and Iron Men to assist him."

"But the empire is expanding and developing at an even faster pace, and the burden on his shoulders will only become heavier and heavier."

After hearing this detailed yet suffocating description, Clones Guilliman's face involuntarily turned slightly pale, and he subconsciously gasped.

He seemed to see endless government data boards, never-ending strategic meetings, intricate power struggles like a spider web, and immense, suffocating pressure where every decision concerned the survival of billions of lives.

This is far more complex and terrifying than commanding a legion-level war.

“Uh… this… Mr. Apostle.” Clone Guilliman’s tone suddenly became hesitant and timid, even carrying a hint of barely perceptible panic.

"Thank you very much for your detailed information. I think... after careful consideration, I might prefer to choose the first option."

If I could, I would like to return to the Five Hundred World, back to that familiar land, right here in the rebuilt Coss… well, to find a quiet, sunny patch of wasteland far from the city, and build a small, self-sufficient farm.

"This has always been my wish. I thought that after the victory of the Great Expedition, I would have the opportunity to achieve this goal, but now it seems that if I follow the old path in the conventional way, this goal will definitely not be achieved."

"I no longer want to waste my time on endless political paperwork and despairing macro-level decisions. After experiencing so much, I just want to live a simple and quiet life."

His words revealed a strong, deep fear and instinctive aversion to the harsh life of the "original being".

Managing an Ultramarines legion and five hundred worlds is a formidable challenge enough; what about managing an entire rapidly growing empire?

Just imagining it rationally made him feel a kind of spiritual exhaustion and suffocation.

However, at that moment, the apostle Magnus suddenly turned his head slightly, as if listening intently to some intangible message that directly affected his inspiration.

The soft golden light surrounding him flickered slightly, and then a slightly strange and... pitying smile appeared on his face as his gaze returned to the hopeful face of the clone Guilliman.

“I’m sorry, Robert, you’re a step too late,” Apostle Magnus said with a hint of apology for his inability to help.

“If you had made your request before Horus, and I had granted it, then the matter would have been settled. But now…”

“I just reported the situation here to Terra, and then I received an emergency psionic communication from… well, you yourself, marked as the highest priority.”

He gracefully tapped his temple with his finger, and then spoke.

"The Regent's attitude was unusually firm, even impatient. He strongly suggested, or rather, directly ordered, by the Regent's authority: I must bring you back to Holy Terra intact."

His exact words were: 'How desperate is the Empire for manpower right now? The Emperor never cares about these things, and Macardo has also deflected the responsibility of the Seal Holder to supervise implementation rather than carry it out personally.'

I, a complete person with a full Macurac education in politics and administration, with a clear mind and sound body, actually told me he wanted to go and farm?!

This is an utter waste! Such an absurd thing could never happen! Tie him up and bring him back immediately! That's an order!

Cloned Guilliman: "!!!"

The color drained from his face instantly, as if all his strength had been drained away, making him even paler than when he faced the death threat from the Ascended Forgrim.

He opened his mouth, his throat dry, as if he wanted to protest, to appeal, to argue his case, but in the end all his words turned into a powerless, resigned, long sigh.

He could almost see himself being engulfed by cheering crowds and mountains of data boards, facing a future of endless turmoil and darkness in front of the Regent's enormous desk.

“I forgot to mention, Guilliman said he knows what his clones are thinking, so he will definitely not let you off the hook,” Magnus added.

Clone Saint Gilles elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth with a clean cloth. His incomparably handsome face carried a gentle and deep expectation, and his pure eyes seemed to shimmer with light.

“I want to go back, I want to see my children with my own eyes… I wonder how they are doing now, whether they are still suffering from that terrible crimson hunger.”

I hope to get close to them, or even just to catch a glimpse of them from afar.

As one of the Primarchs who cared most about their offspring, Saint Gilles' choice was not surprising.

The clone Luo Jia suddenly stood up, his face filled with an unprecedented, almost manic fervor and absolute devotion.

He suddenly knelt on one knee facing the direction of the Holy Terra, clasped his hands together in front of his chest, and proclaimed in a voice trembling with excitement.

"I, Luojia, am willing to prostrate myself beneath the throne of the great God-Emperor, who is the truly supreme, flawless, and ultimate deity."

My faith, my life, my soul, everything I have, I will give to Him without reservation. Please take me back, Your Majesty, Apostle of the Divine Emperor!

May I be bathed day and night in the supreme glory of the Divine Emperor, becoming His humblest yet most loyal servant.

The transformation of the Great Manifesto was so thorough and intense, as if he had finally found the ultimate destination of his lifelong faith.

Of all the clones, he was the happiest.

Primarchs like cloned Angron and cloned Mortalian clearly showed strong resistance and unease.

Angron crossed his muscular arms, his facial muscles twitching slightly.

"Go back? Go back to that place? No, I'd rather wander the Milky Way and die in some unknown corner than go back!"

Although Angron was freed from the enslavement of the Butcher's Nail, his resentment and sense of alienation towards the Emperor did not diminish in the slightest.

Mortalian shook his head silently, a dull, hoarse sound emanating from his throat. A faint aura of negativity and resistance permeated the Death Guard Primarch clone.

His complex feelings toward the Emperor, coupled with what the Ascended Forgrim had said earlier—that his true form had become a woman of mixed human and Eldar race blood—made him instinctively suspicious and resistant to returning to the Empire.

He didn't even know how to face his own true self; it was utterly absurd!
At this moment, Klonhorus spoke again. He walked up to Angron and Mortarion, his tone heavy yet carrying a moving sincerity and comfort.

"Brothers, I understand... I deeply understand how you feel."

I know the alienation, the resentment, and the pain of not being recognized that you feel. I also bear the same self-doubt, perhaps even more so than you.

But could we try just once? Just to go back and see for ourselves, how about that? I'm not asking you to immediately promise to stay, to pledge allegiance, or to forgive anything, just… go back.”

"Let's see with our own eyes what the empire looks like now, and see the state of our father. Perhaps many things are completely different from the impressions in our fragmented memories."

If you still find it unacceptable and still want to leave, I swear on everything I have left, I believe no one will forcibly stop you.

But at least, can't we give each other a chance to get to know each other again and try to reconcile? And can't we give Father a chance to see another possibility, a chance to see that perhaps our 'mistakes' can be corrected?

His words, though lacking in flowery language, were filled with a heavy sense of responsibility and a profound expectation.

Angron and Mortarion exchanged a glance, then looked at their other brothers who were either silent or expectant, and finally hesitated before nodding with great reluctance.

Horus's prestige still remained in their hearts, and other Primarchs who had initially hesitated, such as the freedom-loving Chagatai and the solitary Korak, saw that most people were inclined to return, so they no longer raised any objections.

"In that case, the decision is made."

Seeing that the opinions of the people had finally reached a preliminary consensus, the apostle Magnus said no more.

He solemnly raised the magical staff in his hand once more, and his body began to radiate a more brilliant and vast psychic light than ever before.

This time, he is not violently tearing apart the fragile barriers of the real universe, but rather issuing a call in a more subtle and harmless way.

Countless golden rays of light surged from the crystal at the tip of his staff, rapidly traversing and outlining in the space before him, quickly forming a stable network portal.

The Primarch clones peered curiously into the portal, where a magnificent tunnel, shimmering with light and seemingly constructed from the purest crystal, appeared before them.

The tunnel walls were as smooth as a mirror, radiating a special aura that made people feel at ease.

"In the name of the God-Emperor, guided by the light of the collective will of mankind, and based on the sacred net..." Apostle Magnus chanted softly, his voice seemingly resonating deeply with the entire tunnel and with the pulse of Terra in the distance.

"This is... the perfect online game that Father dreamed of all along?!"

Cloned Magnus stared in utter astonishment at the incredibly stable and perfectly integrated passageway that surpassed all his psionic knowledge, a testament to his profound understanding of technology and psionic power. He murmured to himself, his eyes filled with longing and awe.

"The temporary passage cannot be maintained for too long. Hurry up and enter in turn."

Apostle Magnus took one last look around the battlefield filled with memories of death and sacrifice, and took the lead, his figure merging seamlessly into the warm and brilliant light of the net, as naturally as returning to the womb.

The Primarch clones took one last look at the scorched earth that buried Rellano and six billion souls, and took a deep breath.

Suppressing the turmoil within them, and with complex and indescribable emotions, one after another, they stepped into this faster-than-light passage that once existed only in legends but now belonged to humanity.

The gentle light enveloped them, and the archway behind them slowly disappeared, as if it had never existed.

(End of this chapter)