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

Chapter 907 Two Horus and Two Guillimans

The clone Guilliman already knew through the apostle Magnus that the original body had made many arrangements for him, so he was not surprised.

What can he do when he's a clone? The original has a destiny, so what choice does he have but to accept it?

Fortunately, he is a clone. In every respect, the original body's current power and status are beyond the clone's reach. Therefore, he is not particularly worried that the original body will transfer a lot of work to him.

If Guilliman can rest assured, can the rest of the Empire rest assured?

He was a clone created by Fabius Beyer's blasphemous biotechnology, born from the depths of the Eye of Fear. He naturally possessed unknown risks and hidden dangers, and such a person could not possibly be placed in the high position of Imperial Regent.

The other Primarchs, on the other hand, traveled to various parts of Terra according to their own wishes, and the Primarchs were temporarily dispersed.

However, when Clone Horus heard the Emperor's voice, he looked around at his other brothers with a slight confusion and found that they were not acting strangely. It seemed that only he had heard the voice.

Horus quietly parted ways with his other brothers and, following the Emperor's voice, headed towards the private garden that Macado had meticulously crafted near the throne room.

Horus had a vague idea that the Emperor had something to tell him privately, and that he might even have to keep it from the other Primarchs, but he didn't say anything. He did whatever the Emperor asked him to do, and that was all.

As Horus stepped across the threshold, the room, which appeared to be just an ordinary office from the outside, suddenly became exceptionally spacious, filled with fresh grass and babbling rivers. Sunlight, refracted by psionic energy, entered the room, nourishing the plants.

With the power of the one who holds the seal, distorting space is an extremely simple matter.

Macardo and Lothi were talking in two rocking chairs, while the Emperor stood by the river and waved for Horus to come closer when he saw him arrive.

"Father……"

Although Horus felt more at ease than when he knelt and repented before the Golden Throne, he still felt waves of shame and unease in the presence of the Emperor.

Could it be that the Emperor didn't want to punish him in front of the other Primarchs, so he chose a more private place?
Horus gritted his teeth, his heart sinking again. He was willing to accept any punishment.

"Don't be so nervous, child."

The Emperor's voice rang out. He did not look at Horus, but simply gazed at the tranquil and peaceful river before him.

“You are his clone. I understand that you are not the same person, even if you share the same genes and even have a large part of the same memories. The Horus I knew is dead. He died on the battlefield of the Vengeful Spirit.”

Horus did not reply; his memory contained no images of what happened after Devonstar, including the final battle of the Vengeful Spirits.

But as the emperor described it, fragmented pieces of information suddenly began to surface in his mind:

A deck teeming with dark energy; giants wielding the Claw of Horus and the Worldbreaker's Hammer; the human lord brandishing the Emperor's Sword and the Emperor's Claw; and malevolent beings watching from a higher dimension as father and son turn against each other...

His breathing became rapid, and his muscles began to contract involuntarily, as if he had truly returned to that unbearable day.

"me……"

Horus tried to speak, but what came out was a hoarser, harsher voice.

Horus felt as if he were imprisoned in another person's body, experiencing completely real scenes through "his" eyes and ears.

He roared hoarsely, trying to stop himself from fighting, to lay down his weapons and stop being an enemy of the Emperor, but he couldn't do it. All he could do was be a silent spectator and watch everything unfold.

This tragic human civil war ended in victory for the Emperor. Horus felt the destructive power of the Emperor's sword piercing his body, and his consciousness gradually began to fade.

With a crisp snap of his fingers, Kronhorus, standing beside the Emperor, jolted violently, snapping out of the incredibly realistic sensation.

He was drenched in sweat, his bald head soaked with sweat that kept flowing down with his breath.

"I showed you the scene of that final battle. How did you feel?" the Emperor asked gently.

Horus's mind immediately began to race as he analyzed the Emperor's true intentions in asking such a question.

Is it to make him repent for how foolish his true self was, that he could be seduced by chaos? Or is it to make him see the harm he has caused to humanity, so that he will be determined to make amends for his sins?
Horus now envies Guilliman's thinking ability. His brother can think about hundreds or even thousands of things at the same time without them interfering with each other, unlike his own thoughts which are now tangled together like a knotted ball of yarn.

After a ten-second silence, Horus finally answered.

"I'm sorry, Father, I don't know what to say."

Poor Horus, he had the highest emotional intelligence of all his Primarch brothers, and during the Great Crusade, he was able to navigate perfectly among most of his brothers using his social skills.

Aside from Primarchs like Corax who were truly betrayed by Horus, other Primarchs, even if their relationship with Horus wasn't great, at least didn't hate him.

However, before the Emperor, Horus was like a computer without its processor, powerless to withstand voltage overload, unable to output any effective results.

"I already told you not to be so nervous."

The emperor sighed, then patted Horus on the shoulder, gesturing for him to sit down like him.

The Lord of Humanity sat on the slope beside the stream, casually picked a foxtail grass, and put it in the corner of his mouth.

Horus followed suit and also made one for himself.

"I just want to tell you that the leader of the human rebellion is nothing more than a monster that has taken over Horus's body."

“He is neither you nor Horus himself. My son died long ago in the temple of Devonstar.”

Horus gritted his teeth, feeling his eyes getting wet, so he desperately tried to hold back the urge to cry.

"I killed that monster on the Vengeful Spirit, but Horus was not completely annihilated."

The Emperor continued, and Clone Horus suddenly shuddered, as if he had heard something unbelievable.

"Horus is my favorite child, and that will not change with the passage of time." The emperor looked at the river in front of him, casually dug a stone from the grass, and threw it far away.

The stone stirred up ripples in the river, which didn't disappear for a long time.

“I preserved the last tiny fragment of his remnant soul and then infused it into the soul of Gavial Loken, who was also present at the time.”

Just as the Emperor mentioned the last Shadowmoon Wolf, another person entered the private garden of Macado.

The visitor was none other than Loken, who had been summoned by the Emperor and temporarily withdrawn from the battlefield of the Netway.

Loken wore a more refined gray power armor, different from that of the Shadowmoon Wolves era, and engraved with countless exorcism runes. His face looked weathered, marked by the passage of time and the unwavering determination left by countless battles against evil.

But Horus would never mistake those eyes.

Gavial Loken, one of his most loyal members of the Shadowmoon Council, was also one of the few offspring who remained steadfast in his beliefs and ultimately survived the betrayal.

Of the former Council of Four Kings, two are dead and two are still alive. Of the two survivors, one has chosen loyalty and the other has resolutely rebelled.

Loken walked with steady steps, but when he entered the lounge and his gaze fell upon Klon Horus standing beside the Emperor, his body stiffened for a moment, and his right hand even instinctively reached for his waist to touch the power sword that had been taken away.

A look of utter shock, disbelief, and a hint of deep-seated, forgotten pain flashed across his face.

Anyone would have this reaction if they suddenly saw the father of genes, who had already been confirmed dead and was the mastermind behind the rebellion, standing alive in front of them.

"...Horus?"

Loken's voice trembled slightly, and his gaze darted rapidly between the Emperor and Klonhorus.

His soul seemed to resonate with the proximity to Horus's clone, a deep-seated stirring that only exists between the Primarch and Astartes quietly emerging.

Based on this, Loken was almost certain that the person before him was Horus.

"Relax, Gavial."

The emperor's voice was calm, carrying a soothing power.

"As you can see, he is indeed Horus, your father, but he is not the Horus you remember."

Strictly speaking, he is a creation of dark genetic technology, a clone of your father, but he retains most of Horus's memories and personality from before his fall.

Upon hearing this, Loken's shock and anger subsided slightly.

But he still found it hard to accept that this guy's existence was a desecration of Horus. How could someone be so arrogant as to clone the Primarch?

Judging from the Emperor's attitude, it seems that the Lord of Mankind does not mind the existence of clone Horus. Loken does not understand, but he chooses to respect the Emperor's choice.

The Emperor turned his gaze to Loken and continued to explain.

"In the Soul of Vengeance, when I finally had to end the monster that was completely consumed by chaos, I used all my strength to salvage a fragment of Horus's soul that was not yet corrupted."

"It was too fragile to exist independently, so I entrusted it to the soul of you who was present at the time and had the deepest connection with Horus—Gavial Loken."

"This fragment carries Horus's original ideals, his love for mankind, and his loyalty to me."

The Emperor's voice was unusually hoarse as he slowly peeled back the layers of truth hidden within Loken.

"It is because of its existence that the Black King's whispers could always penetrate time and space, trying to call it and corrupt it. This is also the root cause of your nightmares. My loyal Gavial, you have borne a burden that should not belong to you."

Loken's eyes widened, and he instinctively clutched his chest, as if he could feel a weight deep within his soul that didn't belong to him.

The confusion and pain that had been buried deep in my heart finally found their answers at this moment.

“So… So that’s how it is…”

"I have always felt fear, afraid that I have been corrupted and assimilated by the power of the Dark Lord without my knowledge. It turns out that it is because a fragment of Horus's soul remains in my soul."

The Emperor looked at Klonhorus again and then spoke.

“Now, I’m giving you a choice, Lupecal.”

"This fragment of remnant soul belongs to your past, is the last proof that Horus Lupecal ever existed, and is also the tiny vessel in which he failed to realize his ideals."

"It cannot make you a true, complete Horus, that is impossible, but if you wish..."

The Emperor extended his palm, and a faint but exceptionally pure particle of light, radiating a soft, warm golden glow, slowly emerged from Loken's chest, as if guided, and floated to the Emperor's palm.

The light was so faint, as if it might go out at any moment, yet it contained a heartbreaking sense of familiarity.

"If you are willing to accept it and let it merge with your current clone body and soul, you will bear this final relic and shoulder the unfinished duties and sins of Horus Lupecal."

"You will feel his past glory and pain, his passion and regret more clearly. This path will be much heavier. Are you willing?"

Clone Horus did not hesitate at all.

He looked at the faint particle of light that represented the last pure essence of his being, his eyes filled with determination, even a kind of longing.

For him, this was not a burden, but an opportunity for redemption, a way to truly reconcile with the past and take responsibility for what he had not yet done.

“I do, Father.”

“I am willing to accept it. Although I am not him, I am willing to bear the traces of Rus Lupecal’s last existence, to carry his sins, and to strive to fulfill the oath he failed to make to you and to humanity.”

The emperor gazed at him and slowly nodded.

The warm particles of light, like fledglings returning to their nest, drifted slowly toward Klonhorus, eventually settling into his chest and merging with him. In an instant, Klonhorus's body trembled slightly, and countless clearer, more emotionally charged fragments of memories and feelings flooded into his mind and soul.

The glorious coronation of Ulanor, the brothers' joyful drinking together, the boundless love and worship for the emperor, the beautiful vision for the future of mankind... and finally, the pain and despair when he was deceived by the dark gods in the Temple of Devon and his soul was forcibly twisted.

These feelings are no longer just memories, but have taken on a certain personal texture.

He took a deep breath, slowly stood up, looked at Loken, and his eyes were filled with gratitude.

“Thank you, Gavial,” he said solemnly. “Thank you for protecting the last flame for Horus. Now, I will take over that responsibility.”

Loken looked at the clone before him, and finally, he slowly lowered his guard and solemnly returned an Astartes salute.

Although they are no longer father and son, they can still be comrades-in-arms, fighting for the future of humanity.

As the emperor watched this scene, a genuine smile appeared on his lips.

“Very good, go. The path Horus Lupecal did not finish, now you will continue it. Humanity needs everyone who is willing to dedicate everything to a great ideal, even at the cost of their lives.”

Loxi's applause rang out at just the right moment.

"Great, that's wonderful! I love these kinds of family reunions and happy scenes."

At heart, Rosie is still a mortal. Even though he has experienced countless storms, he still instinctively abhors separation and death.

Not only him, but also Neos, Macardo, these beings who are packaged as being infinitely close to saints, or even gods, are still human in essence.

However, compared to the masses, people like Loxi hope that all of humanity, and even all life in the real universe, can be freed from the pain of separation and death, and isolated from the malicious covetousness of the gods in the subspace.

Countless of the most outstanding, courageous, and intelligent people in the world have devoted themselves to achieving this goal, even at the cost of their lives.

"Then we won't disturb you any longer. You three generations can continue to enjoy your time together."

After saying that, Rosie immediately pulled Macado out of the room.

"Even though I've said it many times, I still want to say thank you, Rosie."

The old age on Makado seemed to have been somewhat diminished by the joyful atmosphere. He looked into Rosie's eyes and thanked her with utmost sincerity.

"Why are you thanking me again?" Rose was a little confused.

"It's been a long time since I've seen Neos express his emotions so naturally and freely."

Makado slightly raised his head, glancing sideways at a crystal chandelier in the palace, his gaze gradually becoming unfocused.

“I met Neos a long, long time ago, when humanity was still in a time of conflict.”

"He was completely different back then compared to now. If I had to describe it, it would be..."

The person holding the seal frowned, seemingly pondering the most suitable description.

“Like a larger Magnus, right?” Losi chimed in at the opportune moment.

Macado's eyes lit up instantly, and Rosie could even see his wrinkles trembling.

"Yeah!"

“Back then, Neos was indeed very similar to Magnus. They both had little sense of caution towards others, which led to them often behaving quite foolishly.”

"But his personal charisma is undeniable. I, Olpeson, Erda, and other immortal companions were all captivated by his charm and willingly followed him to fight for his ideals."

"But unfortunately, after we devised the plan to establish a human empire and save the human race, Neos became increasingly indifferent and rational, even to the point of being cold-blooded and ruthless."

"He stifled his humanity and transformed himself into an 'emperor'."

"The Emperor must be an absolutely rational, selfless, and unwavering human leader."

"I think a large part of the credit for seeing the Neos we used to know again belongs to you."

Luo Xi waved her hand, but couldn't hide the smile on her face.

"Alright, alright, stop praising each other. I'm going to check on Guilliman's situation."

……

Loxi bid farewell to Macado and wandered through the magnificent, labyrinthine corridors of the royal palace.

Instead of using psionic teleportation, he chose to walk, enjoying this brief and rare moment of tranquility while also sorting out the thoughts brought about by the special "family reunion" just now.

Soon, he arrived at the massive, adamantine doors to the Regent's office, engraved with the imperial eagle and maklag emblem.

The Ever Victorious Army soldiers at the door silently saluted and opened the door for him.

The office scene was as usual: towering data boards were piled up like mountains, a huge star map slowly rotated on a holographic projector, and there was a faint smell of ink and parchment in the air, as well as a subtle sense of fatigue from overwork.

Robert Guilliman, the Regent of the Empire, stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door, gazing at the ever-burning city lights of Terra outside.

Meanwhile, Clone Guilliman sat behind a smaller desk, quickly scanning a data panel of a progress report on the space bridge project. His brow was slightly furrowed, and he seemed to be instinctively thinking about how to optimize resource allocation.

Upon hearing the door open, the two turned their heads simultaneously.

The original Guilliman wore a barely concealed smile, while the clone put down the data panel, its expression slightly complicated.

"It seems your talk went well?" Loxi walked over and casually leaned against the edge of the main desk.

"Some necessary handover and situation briefing are underway."

Guilliman turned around, walked to his throne-like chair, placed his hands on the table, looked at his clone, and lowered his voice.

“There’s something I believe you have a right to know,” Guilliman said to the clone, “It’s about…Ms. Yodon.”

Cloned Guilliman's body tensed instantly. He jerked his head up, a flicker of panic in his cobalt blue eyes.

"Madam? What...what happened to her?"

In the depths of his memory and emotions, his wise and kind foster mother, who taught him philosophy and governance, was an irreplaceable beacon in his life.

Whether he is the original or a clone, this emotional imprint is equally profound.

“She’s still alive,” Guilliman immediately reassured her, “but… time has become too heavy for her.”

He took a deep breath, as if it took immense courage to say those words.

"She... is very old. Despite using the Empire's most advanced life-extending technology, her body is still irreversibly deteriorating."

Clones Guilliman's face turned pale instantly. He felt as if his heart was being gripped by a cold, giant hand, and a sharp pain swept through his body.

He imagined the woman, who was always full of wisdom and vitality, growing old and confused, which terrified and made him feel more helpless than any powerful enemy he faced.

“No… how could this be…” he muttered to himself, his fingers unconsciously tightening, almost crushing the data tablet in his hand. “There must be a way, we have Imperial technology… or…”

"Conventional methods have been exhausted, and Ms. Euton does not want to live a miserable life; she wants to maintain her dignity, even in the face of death."

Guilliman interrupted him and then said.

"However, it is not entirely hopeless."

He straightened up, his gaze sweeping over Rosie before fixing on the clone.

"According to information obtained by our intelligence network, deep in the shadows of the galaxy, an ancient and secretive alien organization, which calls itself the Cult, possesses a life science technology far beyond the current Empire's understanding."

One of the most crucial aspects... is the technology for creating artificial immortals.

"An artificial immortal?" Cloned Guilliman's eyes flashed with an astonishing light.

"You mean the kind of technology that can truly reverse aging and even grant near-eternal life?"

“Only in theory,” Losi interjected. “Sect cults are extremely mysterious and dangerous. The origins of their technology are unknown, the side effects are unknown, and the difficulty and risk of acquiring it are extremely high.”

But Clones Guilliman was clearly no longer listening.

His deep affection for his adoptive mother overwhelmed all careful consideration; he suddenly stood up, his tone excited and urgent.

"Then what are we waiting for?! Immediately organize an expeditionary force, mobilize the Ultramarines, no matter where this cult is hiding in the galaxy, no matter the cost, we must bring the technology back! For Ms. Eudon!"

His reaction was exactly what Guilliman had anticipated.

The Regent raised his hand, making a calm gesture: "This is precisely why I summoned you, but you are not the one chosen to carry out this mission."

Clones Guilliman was taken aback, then his face showed confusion and a hint of anger at being offended.

"Not me? Then who could it be? Who else would be more eager to save her than me? Who else understands better than me what this technology might mean for the Empire and for humanity?!"

"It's precisely because I understand how you feel that I can't let you go!"

Guilliman's voice suddenly rose, carrying an unquestionable majesty that even overwhelmed the clone's aura.

"Your emotions will affect your judgment. What we need is absolute calm, maximum efficiency, and the ability to deal with their bizarre methods."

He stepped forward and looked into the eye of his clone. The two were like reflections in a mirror, yet they exuded completely different auras.

One is a regent who has endured many hardships and shoulders the responsibility of the entire empire; the other is a world lord of five hundred worlds who is filled with emotion and eager to save his loved ones.

“I have awakened my warp nature.” A blue light flashed in Guilliman’s eyes. “This is the power of negation. I can fundamentally dismantle psionic energy, sorcery curses, and those weird tricks based on the warp.”

"This is the most effective weapon against psychic enemies like the Tantric sect. My combat strength, experience, and overall control are far superior to yours. Sending me personally will maximize the success rate and minimize the risk."

“But that’s too dangerous!” Cloned Guilliman argued, knowing that the original had only said a lot to convince him to stay.

“You are the Regent of the Empire, Terra cannot do without you. If... if something happens to you, what will happen to the Empire? What will happen to Father’s cause?!” He even invoked the greater good.

“The Empire will not cease to function just because I am not here,” Guilliman roared, slamming his hand on the table as if he were losing control.

“But Ms. Euton can’t wait any longer, and this is something I, as a son, must do myself; no one can do it for me!”

"You fucking quoted my lines, what the hell did I say?" Clone Guilliman asked sharply, his words scathing.

“I am Guilliman too, even if I am a clone, I am still Ms. Yoton’s child, this is not your exclusive right!”

The atmosphere in the office instantly became tense.

The two Guillimans, like lions vying for territory, were locked in a fierce battle, neither willing to yield.

They all deeply loved the same mother and were willing to give everything for her, but they had a fundamental disagreement about who should carry out this dangerous mission.

(End of this chapter)