.

Maybe they were really scared.

You wanted to apologize to them, but your headache prevented that.

You decided not to think about Guilliman. After all, that kid always failed to accomplish anything. He would always make a miscalculation inadvertently and turn the brilliant plan into a disaster.

He is a perfect bureaucrat, nothing more.

Having said this, you couldn't help but think of the rare disagreement between you and Morgan. You still remember how she commented on Guilliman with a smile in front of you that day, and you laughed off her conclusion.

How could a man who created five hundred worlds wish to be an old farmer? He is not Mortarion.

You seem to have been arguing for a long time. You have never argued for that long. You still remember that Sanguinius sat next to you just after returning, holding a fruit plate and saying a few words in the heated atmosphere. You forgot that he was

When did you integrate into your small circle, but you don't hate him, who would hate Sanguinius?

From that day on, you always seem to be arguing, a rational and controllable argument. You don't hate this time. After all, it is rare. She lives on the Vengeful Spirit again, and her room has been too vacant.

It's been a long time, but fortunately you have kept the habit of cleaning it.

So, you, Morgan and Sanguinius, a perfect combination, a perfect time, you seem to have returned to the days when you once walked among the stars, but this time, the war is inevitably too much.

You chatted in the long night under the moon. You missed that peaceful time. Most of the time, you were the one talking. Sanguinius always had nothing constructive to say, and Morgan, for some reason, fell in love with your language.

With the feeling of jumping left and right in the loopholes of logic, that teasing smile is always accompanied by the corner of her mouth, as if she has been away from you for too long, and she wants to make up for it all at once.

But no matter what, those times are beautiful. That's the second time you think that life will continue like this.

You smiled, you could feel your smile, and at this moment, you found that your chin was a little wet. You lowered your head and only saw some viscous liquid dripping on your breastplate.

You frowned and called the attendants on the side to come and clean you, but maybe your voice was too soft, so they just lowered their heads and said nothing.

Maybe you need a new batch of mortal servants, even ones a little more clever.

You complained in your heart, but did not get angry. You were considerate of this miserable guy: the war has been too long, long enough to destroy the sanity of these mortals.

But it doesn't matter, you can end it soon.

——————

In the last one hundred years of the Great Crusade, all you can remember is the war.

Sanguinius left, and Morgan also left. She led her legion to the edge of the galaxy to participate in a war against Randan. You tried to persuade her not to get involved in such things, but the result

This is just the first real argument between her and you.

You even remember her sarcasm.

"what are you worried about?"

"What are you worried about?"

"What are you jealous of?"

"My Horus, does it make you uneasy that you are avoiding this war, but witnessing other brothers taking over the power to command multiple legions? Does this make you feel an unnecessary sense of threat?"

You didn't speak. You were neither willing to refute nor face it. You silently watched her fleet disappear into the Mandeville Point again. When she appeared in front of you again, it was already

Thirty years later.

Scarred and exhausted.

You hugged her, which seemed to be all you could do.

You feel her head on your chest, the two of you standing silently like this, which is worth a thousand words.

But this is not the beginning of a reunion, just a brief glimpse.

Next, she went to another remote corner. It is said that she accompanied and taught the midnight ghost for twenty years, but you don't think it was of any use. Those guys from the Eighth Legion still performed their own

Performance art just likes to carry a code compiled by their genetic father, read the regulations and instructions on it with sacred faith, and disembowel those who meet the conditions.

Then there is Angron. She spent a long time on that crazy brother, but you still feel that it was in vain. After all, in the end, Angron looks the same as his offspring and the Space Wolves, and the world

Everyone can see that what little sanity he has left has been destroyed by the passage of time.

But she is still like this, running around among the stars, becoming more and more like your father. Although you still maintain the closest relationship with Morgan and your father, and you still fight side by side when conditions permit, but for

She becomes exactly the same as her father, and you only feel an instinctive resistance.

This resistance reached its peak after Ullanor.

After you knew that she supported Jonson to become Warmaster, you really felt angry. You almost abandoned the tasks and work at hand and rushed all the way to her flagship.

You walk through the corridors, through the rooms, through the soldiers of the Second Legion that you are no longer familiar with. Everything here seems strange to you, but when you open the last door, you enter the place where you once lived.

Where you discuss it together, it seems to be the same as it was decades ago.

Familiar, you feel familiar.

She is waiting for you there, with wine and a few books on the table. The two of you may be furious at this time, at least you are, but when you sit down, the past can't help but emerge with this action.

before their eyes.

You laughed, and so did she.

You drank some wine and discussed things about Zhuang Sen and the Warmaster. You still disagreed with her a little, but it didn't hurt anymore.

Anyway, the Warmaster is yours.

And anything else you want is also yours.

——————

Thinking about it now, Ullanor seems to have only happened a few decades ago, maybe twenty years?

You have another headache.

Finally, you stood up and walked slowly to the tactical projector. You witnessed the slowly rotating planet in the projector. You looked at it for a long time until someone on the side whispered a reminder.

.

"Warmaster, this is the situation on Terra..."

Ah, yes, this is Terra.

The beginning and end of everything.

Also your next trophy.

But it won't be the last.

You look at it, at its riddled surface, at the huge army rampaging across its land, at the armies of Dorne and Sanguinius blocking in vain in front of the palace, waiting.

Impossible miracle.

How could there be another miracle?

What are they waiting for?

Are you waiting for Jonson and Curze? The two legions have long been seduced by their own provocations. The Night Lords loyal to him provoked a war between the two legions. After all, his brother Judge is a poor manager.

If it weren't for that stubborn brat named Savita, he would have controlled the entire Eighth Legion.

As for now, they may have broken through their own storm in the Ghoul Star Realm. The combination of the two primarchs can indeed do this. They may go to Guilliman and kill more people because of his stupid behavior.

Time, in short, they cannot keep up with this war. Whether it is the Dark Angels, Night Lords or Ultramarines, they are destined to be absent.

Thinking of this, you can't help but feel melancholy. If you could have asked another brother to bring Angron back, maybe your legion would have already entered the palace by now. Fulgrim is a fool, he messed up everything.

, and even sacrificed himself.

You felt a headache, an unprecedented headache. You patted your head, but you vaguely heard a sound echoing in the room, like the most terrifying monster roaring in a low voice.

what a pity.

You think so.

If she could have been on your side, you would have won long ago, maybe three years ago.

But this is definitely a delusion.

You invited her, and almost the first moment you made up your mind, you approached her. She didn't explicitly refuse or agree, but you knew that this was a rejection.

Then……

Then, she died.

Died in Istvan.

You still remember how she died. After all, you killed her yourself and destroyed her legion. You remember the way her blood flowed on your paws. Remember the last time her eyes looked at you.

There is no hatred in it.

Everyone was screaming, especially Fulgrim, Perturabo and Lorgar. They almost rushed up and turned against you, but there were also people laughing... You forgot who it was.

Headache……

etc……

Is she dead?

She didn't die, she didn't die in Istvaan, she died in Prospero, Magnus killed her...
To be continued...