The player is playing like a god, and has already advanced to Space Marine level at the start.

Chapter 83 Guilliman: My Father Was a Scoundrel

North Star, underground.

On the long conference table, books were piled up like a small mountain.

These books weren't sacred parchment scrolls, nor were they stored on memory cards. They were wrapped in cheap plastic film, printed quite beautifully, with covers bearing the aesthetics of two thousand years ago.

That was found by Lu Xiao's men.

The complete works of Horus.

Warhammer 40: The Imperial Code

The Cult of Mechanics: The Book of Setting

There are also several heavy volumes of "An Introduction to Imperial Armor".

On Earth, these are just topics of conversation among board game players. But in the eyes of the owner of the Glory of Macragge, these are truths buried by time.

Guilliman sat in a specially made, reinforced chair, his heavy body causing the metal frame to creak and groan. He wasn't wearing a helmet. At least for now, his face remained calm.

"This is what you've been looking for."

Lu Xiao stood by the table, tapping her fingers on her knees a few times. Making the protagonist of the script read it himself seemed utterly absurd.

Guilliman reached out. That hand, large enough to crush a tank's armor, now held a copy of "Technology in the Dark Ages" with unusual gentleness. His movements were careful, even reverent.

"Paper books".

Guilliman's voice was deep.

"In the 41st millennium, this medium is exclusively for the sacred texts of God."

He turned to the first page.

At first, his gaze swept across the text with scrutiny and skepticism. He initially regarded these "settings" as clumsy imitations of indigenous civilizations.

Five minutes later.

Guilliman straightened up abruptly. His eyes widened, fixed on the pages of the book, and he didn't move.

Splash. Splash.

The sound of pages turning grew faster and faster, particularly jarring in the otherwise silent command room. Calgar and Sicarius exchanged a glance; they had never seen such an expression on the Primarch's face before.

That wasn't anger, nor was it sorrow. It was the rebuilding of a worldview after it had completely collapsed.

"Incredible..."

Guilliman muttered to himself, pressing his fingers hard until the corner of the book was almost crushed into powder between his fingers.

"This section records the original STC template variant."

"And the cooling formula for plasma reactors... although it's simplified, the logic is flawless."

He suddenly looked up, his gaze sweeping across Lu Xiao's face like a knife.

"This isn't a novel; it's a walking history archive, a lost technological treasure trove!"

"Why would technology that couldn't even be found on Mars be printed on these cheap scraps of paper?"

Lu Xiao opened his mouth, unable to explain what the obsession of "setting enthusiasts" meant.

Before Guilliman could reply, he was already completely engrossed in the book. He grabbed another one; the cover featured a man with long hair and golden armor.

Lord of Mankind

Guilliman's fingers trembled. That was his father.

He held his breath and turned to those dusty chapters. The book didn't contain the nauseating praise of the state religion, only cold, hard resumes of "people".

He saw the origins of "Nyos," the murder in the Anatolian cave, and the lurking presence of the immortals throughout the long years. Then, accounts of the Golden Age emerged.

That was the pinnacle of mythology as described by the empire.

Guilliman's expression became particularly interesting; his eyebrows furrowed into a tight knot, and the skin on his face creased.

"this……"

Guilliman pointed to a passage on the page, his voice carrying a sense of absurdity.

"He was... a terrible student during his golden age?"

Calga's hand trembled, and the bomb gun almost hit the deck.

"Father! Be careful what you say!"

Guilliman waved his hand to stop his men; he no longer cared about blasphemy.

The book states in black and white: that omniscient and omnipotent emperor, in the golden age of technological explosion, was utterly incompetent in all subjects except for bioengineering. He was even considered a "freak" by the academic community at the time because he spent all his time hiding in the laboratory conducting research.

"I see... I see!"

Guilliman closed the book.

"I have never been able to understand why, when He created us, He endowed us with divine power, yet left us completely devoid of emotional education."

"Why can he design the most perfect genes, yet he can't see through people's hearts?"

"Why did he turn a blind eye to those political traps during the Great Expedition?"

Guilliman opened his eyes, his gaze revealing a myriad of emotions.

"Because he is good at some subjects but not others."

"He's a biological genius, but an idiot when it comes to interpersonal relationships."

"He's just a shut-in who stays in the lab doing research."

Lu Xiao huddled in the corner, staring down at the floor, afraid of laughing out loud. This was the Empire's number one taboo. If the high lords of Terra knew that the god-emperor they worshipped was a failing student, they'd probably have a stroke on the spot.

But for Guilliman, this was actually a relief.

It wasn't that the father didn't love them; he simply didn't understand. This also explains the strange flaws of those legions—the root of the problem lies here.

"If you're a father who passed biology but failed everything else, it's perfectly normal for your child to have some psychological problems."

Guilliman shook his head.

He picked up the third book. The bald man on the cover had a sinister look in his eyes, and the Eye of Horus was embroidered on his armor.

Guilliman's finger lingered on that name for a long time. It was his once beloved brother, and also the Empire's greatest traitor. For millennia, a thorn had pierced his heart: why would that radiant Warmaster betray him?

He opened the book. This time, he read very slowly, each word feeling like it was tearing at his heart.

He saw the glory of Ulanor, the confusion of Horus, and the despicable seduction of Erebas. Finally, the scene froze on the temple of Devonstar.

Horus, mortally wounded, was carried to the altar. Illusions descended, and a false future shattered loyalty.

Guilliman's eyes widened in shock. He saw the end: the real Horus, the warlord with a noble soul, was already dead in the temple. His soul had been torn apart by the four gods, and what emerged from the altar was merely a puppet clad in the skin of the Primarch, filled with the power of chaos.

A container.

"No……"

Guilliman let out a muffled growl, not of anger, but of endless sorrow.

"So it was you."

"You're already dead."

"My brother."

Two streams of water flowed down Guilliman's face. Millennia of hatred had found an outlet in that moment. The one who killed his brother and father on the Vengeance Soul wasn't the Warmaster at all; he was a puppet of the Chaos Gods.

The real Horus Lupecal had already died as a loyal subject long before Devinson.

"He was the first Primarch to sacrifice himself."

Guilliman's voice was hoarse, with a noticeable tremor.

"He is not a traitor, he is a victim."

The command room was deathly silent. Sicarius lowered his head, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his sword. This was the truth, distorted for ten thousand years.

Guilliman wiped the marks from his face with the back of his hand. His eyes sharpened again, more determined than ever before. The burden was lifted; the target of his hatred was no longer his brother, but gods and demons.

"This book."

Guilliman placed "The Horus Rebellion" heavily in the center of the table.

"It is a sacred object."

"It cleared the Sixteenth Army's name."

Before the heavy atmosphere could dissipate, a strange scream suddenly erupted from the corner.

"Ohm Messiah above! This is absolutely impossible! But it makes perfect sense!"

That was Kaul. The great sage was sprawled on another pile of books, like a mouse scurrying into a rice bin. He clutched "The Complete Manual of Imperial Vehicles and Armaments" in his hand, while the mechanical tentacles on his back flared wildly, each one wrapped around a book. The red light in his electronic eyes flashed wildly, almost as if they were burning.

"Lord Guilliman! Look at this!"

Ignoring all etiquette, Caul rushed straight to Guilliman and shoved the pages of the book onto the Primarch's nose with his mechanical arm.

"This is STC's standard build logic!"

"Although there are no detailed blueprints, it explains the principles! The principles!"

Kaur's voice turned into a grating electronic noise.

"We never understood why the anti-gravity engine failed, but the book explains it! It's because of the interference coefficients of subspace fluctuations!"

"And this! The original formula for explosive propellant!"

As Kaul pointed to the chapter on the creation process of Astartes, all the mechanical parts of his body trembled.

"Is the Emperor Design sequence meant to reserve interfaces? I always thought it was useless code!"

"Following this line of thinking, I can further improve the original casting technique!"

"No, it's a leap forward!"

"By thoroughly understanding these principles, the Primal Forged Space Marines can reach a new level of power!"

"The Mark X power armor will be lighter! Plasma weapons will never explode again!"

"I am confident I can repair the damaged genetic seeds!"

Kaul abruptly turned his head, staring at the table full of books, his metallic eyes filled with greed. To him, this place was a veritable repository of oracles.

"This isn't Terra!"

Kaul waved his robotic arm and shouted.

"This is a gift from Om Messiah!"

"Lu Xiao!"

Kaur stared at Lu Xiao with burning eyes.

"Are there any more? Do you still have this kind of book?"

"I want them all! Every single punctuation mark must be stored in my database!"

"Praise be to the God of Machines!"

Guilliman felt a little relieved looking at his crazed old friend.

"Karl".

"I'm here, sir! My computing power has now tripled!"

"Take the book back."

Guilliman pointed to the table.

"Find the most brilliant sages to form a deciphering team. In this world, these are merely 'settings,' untouched by warp contamination; this is pure knowledge."

Guilliman stood up, his large figure casting a shadow that covered half the room. He walked to the enormous star map.

"We've arrived at a strange place."

"There are no evil gods, but there are warriors who call themselves gods."

"We may not have an empire, but we have our history."

Guilliman's finger traced across the starry sky and stopped where Earth was.

"My father was a student who excelled in only one subject but not all of them."

"These secrets would spark a civil war in our universe, but here..."

Guilliman turned around, his gaze sweeping over Calgary, Kaul, and Lu Xiao.

"Here, knowledge is our strongest weapon."

"Understanding the past is the key to correcting the future."

"Karl, I need to see the technology upgrade plan."

"Yes, sir! I will do my utmost to complete it!"