Warhammer: My Biological Father Emperor and My Demigod Brother

More than 40,000 years later, Quarter.

The location of the electric arc that originally attacked Claudius, which emanated from the power armor more than 10,000 years ago.

After detecting that there was no longer any threat to Quart and that Iron Angel Gabriel had disappeared, Guilliman himself appeared at the scene.

He only needs to lower his head to look down at the chopstick-sized arc of electricity.

The Primarch reached out a finger to touch it, and surprisingly, it still retained warmth.

Is the elder brother so unique that all the traces he leaves in his dreams possess the quality of independent existence?

"The Great Sage Kaul has sent word that he has a spare part on the Radiance of Macragge."

Folber emerged from the shadows behind the Primarch, his armor unable to gleam with gold in the dim light.

Guilliman chuckled, “I like the term ‘spare part.’ It seems you don’t consider him human. What is he going to do? After Gabriel’s disappearance, the remaining technology here isn’t enough to cause a major upheaval.”

Folber pondered:

"The Cult of Mechanics actually has a lot of good stuff, but because of order issues, they've become more inclined to produce what they consider to be crude creations. This doesn't affect their passion for technology; even if a machine from different eras works on the same principle, they'll still try their best to collect a copy of each."

"Speaking of which, they've recently been preparing an automated machine for Your Majesty, from fishing to scaling and cooking. Is there any hope that Your Majesty can regain the ability to eat?"

Guilliman gets a headache whenever he thinks of the skeleton, or rather, his seriously ill father, his missing brother, and his broken home.

"I won't comment on these things, Fobel. Look at this power armor. Can you identify which legion it belongs to?"

Guilliman looked at the empty power armor Claudius had brought over. According to the description, the corpse inside had turned into an electric arc and, after being bound by Aaron, had not shown any interactive characteristics.

Fobel pondered, "Was it an Astartes that was attacked and its body transformed by this electric arc? To be honest, as far as I know, the MKII was also iterated very quickly during the Great Crusade, and it can't even be called part of the Great Crusade. It was mainly used in the conquest wars within the solar system. The MKIV is what people generally know about the Astartes Legion."

Guilliman nodded, also recalling the past, even before many Primarchs had returned, and sighed:

"During the MKIV era, people only knew about the eighteen legions and unanimously forgot about the other two. So at least when the MKII was in large-scale service, the genetic offspring of my lost brothers had not yet suffered their fate."

Faubel's eyes, hidden beneath his visor, even held a hint of amusement:

"The MKIV is known as the ultimate power armor. The faceplate design has changed from the ancient fence layout to the current symmetrical horizontal stripe distribution. Even today, it is still the main equipment of some chapters and even Chaos traitors. Right now, there are production lines that we don't know about that are building these ancient yet brand-new weapons."

When the MKIV was first replaced, many rebel legions were the first to complete the replacement, so the Imperials had to use a patchwork MKV. Many parts were physically assembled with rivets, and the materials came from war and stockpiles. What you see is what you get, which made the design quite unorthodox.

It wasn't until the MKX was released that things gradually returned to their original state, back to the standard form of Space Marine power armor that people generally recognized.

Of course, the first image that comes to mind for most citizens of the Empire when they think of Astartes is that of an Ultramariner, so there's no need to specifically mention that.

Guilliman didn't mind the slight sarcasm in Faubel's tone; he was open and honest and took a good look at everything he had done in the past.

The sound of the Sage of the High Priest's spare part rang out somewhat abruptly. The speaker components used in this spare part were probably of inferior quality. Putting aside the annoying electrical interference, the noise caused by the vibration of the component alone made one want to go up to him and tear his "mouth" off.

"Many Chaos Space Marines use power armor that is either Ultramarines or spoils obtained directly from Ultramarines. I don't know what the machine spirits of those equipment and weapons were thinking; they should have refused to be used by Chaos Space Marines."

"Speaking of this, before your return to Terra and the ensuing upheaval, there were conspiracy theories within the Empire. They believed that the reason for the continuous influx of Chaos Space Marines was that Ultramarines had been falling into corruption over the past ten thousand years. Of course, I personally believe that this was nothing more than a propaganda campaign spread by the politicians you punished."

Guilliman turned around and gave the order:

"Seal off the sage's spare parts and send them to a stasis field."

The Sage's Spare Parts was taken aback and hurriedly shouted:

“Your Highness, I was just being humorous. I remember Otramar quite liked this kind of conversation! I absolutely will not mention anything about the second—”

The Sage's Spare Part was personally restrained by the Primarch's Royal Guard, and given the same treatment as the most dangerous berserk psychics who were imprisoned.

"Legion!"

Before being placed into the small static force field, the spare part finally uttered its last word.

"Stop, bring it back."

Guilliman intervened, and only then were the poor spare parts brought back.

"Your Highness, I once asked you about activating those two Legion gene seeds to modify and replenish the Primitive Space Marines." The spare part hurriedly got back to the point, abandoning any semblance of humor, fearing he might get crushed by Guilliman's punch.

It cautiously observed Guilliman's expression, and only dared to speak after seeing that the latter didn't even flinch, or at least didn't show any anger:

“I hope to study this arc of electricity and the ancient MKII power armor. I believe the key to solving the problems of those two legions lies within it.”

"As you know, the Empire is currently fighting on multiple fronts, and we need more Astartes, especially geneseeds that have not experienced the Great Rebellion and have not been contaminated. Just like how ancient Terra distinguished between metals from before and after the nuclear age."

Folber slammed the hilt of his halberd on the ground and snorted coldly:

"What if they question their Primarch and explore taboos that even we don't know about?"

Doubt is most likely to breed fear and rebellion.

Humans naturally ponder where they come from and where they are going. Once Astartes begins to contemplate this question, many things become inexplicable, making it extremely easy for them to fall into the arms of evil gods.

Even the gene seed has a terrifying mystical connection to the database. When the backup in Caul's possession was stored, the twenty legions were probably still thriving and incredibly loyal.

However, once they are put into modification, it can be almost 100% confirmed that some Astartes will mutate and experience the final fate of their father, the true source of their genetic seed.

They couldn't help but wonder what kind of annihilation had befallen the source of the genetic seed within them.

At this point, unless they are all brought before the Golden Throne and the parties involved explain themselves, even Guilliman cannot suppress them.

Even if you could make the Primarch kneel before the Space Wolf, it wouldn't be enough.

Therefore, in Folbel's eyes, all Astartes are actually born evil brats, and the Primarchs are even more dangerous, since it was the Primarchs who led the rebellion in the first place.

However, due to the current state of the empire, Astartes is now forced to put out fires everywhere.

It seems like Kaul is creating so many destabilizing factors now, so we should just reject it!

But the Regent seemed somewhat shaken, and sighed:

“When Kaul made this suggestion, I believe his true form was already carrying it out, perhaps even right under the noses of your Imperial Guard in the palace. The Second Legion’s Astartes have already met with the Golden Throne.”

Upon hearing this, Fobel was horrified and immediately raised his weapon to smash the spare parts of the great sage Kaul in front of him.

What on earth did this guy do?!

If the risky Astartes were to be placed before the throne right under the noses of the Guardians, they would have no choice but to kill everyone who knew about it to protect the Guardians' honor.

(Or perhaps even consider silencing His Majesty?)

Guilliman reached out and caught Fobel's halberd steadily, then turned to look at the pitiful Caul spare parts:

"Go ahead and do your research. Right now, we do need more Astartes. Even just one more warrior to assign can alleviate the pressure on my huge workforce."

"Number Two, let's start with this one. Number Eleven is still unstable and cannot be mass-produced."

Caul cautiously agreed, then, as if courting death, asked:

"It seems this armor can be confirmed as belonging to the Second Legion. Your Highness, have they all turned into these arcs of electricity? Did the Ultramarines participate in the purge of the Second Legion?"

Chapter 505 Gabriel's Head Transplant, King Nebuchadnezzar (3K)

The problem isn't that Kaul's spare parts are suicidal, or that they simply didn't set any security rules for this clone and are asking whatever comes to mind.

Instead, the goal is to prevent the Second Legion's Astartes from being revived in large numbers and encountering the current largest number of Ultramarines, which could suddenly exacerbate the mutation.

It's like letting the Holy Blood Angel encounter the true Son of Horus.

Guilliman shook his head and said, "We don't have those memories anymore. We only remember that there were two lost brothers and legions, and we have to count from the beginning like prisoners to realize that two and eleven no longer exist."

"Cauer, just focus on what you're supposed to do. Don't get involved in the dirty dealings of the past."

Kaul's spare parts immediately replied, "Thank you for the reminder, Your Highness. I understand perfectly well."

He still remembered the time when the original body was the Emperor of Crickets in front of the throne, and was hit on the head by a screw that popped out of the steam.

He would be punished for merely talking about crickets; if someone were to seriously investigate His Majesty's dark history, he would probably be dismantled and forced into the throne, becoming His Majesty's slave.

Unable to change the Primarch's decision, Folber could only forcefully say:

“Before being organized into a complete unit, the Imperial Guard must send an observer to accompany them.”

Guilliman nodded: "Yes, I would really like the Imperial Guard to shift their focus away from the palace and take a closer look at the current state of the Empire. It would be good for you too."

What's so interesting about the skeletons on that throne? It wouldn't make any difference if the Royal Guard started managing things from above now.

Folber said respectfully, "For Your Majesty, the Imperial Guard will do everything in its power."

Really? Go and block up the Eye of Fear for me.

Guilliman sometimes wondered why the hierarchy of strength was so distinct in this galaxy.

But subjective initiative can also so easily overcome objective nature.

Keep stirring and stirring, it's already a complete mess, let's just cook it until it's a mushy mess and burn through the bottom of the pot.

In 599 BC, the main stream of the Euphrates River.

Xiao An is building a fire on a wooden boat, but it's a special stone stove with barriers on all sides, so there's no need to worry about the boat burning down and the whole family falling into the river to feed the fish.

"Aaron, have a glass of fruit wine, the kind we stole from the fruit growers on the side of the river yesterday after sneaking ashore."

The old man placed a deck chair on the deck and basked in the sun, while also demanding a certain quality of enjoyment.

Once you reach the true Central Asian region, the terrain is flat, sunny, and the hours of sunshine are long, making the climate particularly suitable for the growth of melons and fruits, which produce sweetness.

Originally, the theft and embezzlement were supposed to be handled by Marum alone, according to the empire's tax payment policy.

I don't know what went wrong with the old man last night, but he insisted that the whole family go together, especially Aaron.

According to the old man, this was to make Aaron less moral, otherwise life would be meaningless.

Moreover, the amount they stole was not much, less than the natural losses of the fruit farmers, so the impact was minimal.

Aaron didn't know what got into him, but he actually agreed to go along.

They finished their work last night and rushed back to the cabin to ripen the fruit before putting it into jars.

Next came the old man's divine power, which accelerated the brewing process. So, by noon the next day, the old man still couldn't wait to have a delicious taste.

Aaron moved a table and chair to the other side and sat down, sketching what Gabriel looked like.

The six-winged angel's figure was easy to recreate, but its face was too plain and unremarkable. It was like a standard Athenian sculpture, with the same appearance, which could be described as handsome, but it was all the same. After seeing so many, you couldn't describe anything special about it.

The so-called average appearance?

So Aaron could only piece together a face according to his own imagination, while scolding:

"Father, you're not without legs, you can use your spiritual power to float the fruit wine over here if necessary."

The old man, with an shameless air, arrogantly said: