40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 611: 128. Interlude: Roboute Guilliman, First Meeting with Roboute Guilliman
"Safety is safety, regret is regret."

Yago Sevitarion heard his instructor say this in a very natural voice.

"Damn, you're right, man. I've been telling those young bastards to wear helmets when they do things for more than a decade, but they just wouldn't listen and laughed at me for being too cautious! The result? Accidents happen every year!"

A maintenance worker in a dirty dark blue uniform carrying a toolbox agreed with him indignantly, even pumping his fist in approval.

"."

Silently, the Chapter Master of the Midnight Blades took off his helmet, revealing a face dirty with sweat and enemy blood.

He lowered his head, glared at the old man who was chatting with the maintenance worker, wasting his time and his own time, and began to speak in a low voice.

"Are you reading some safety rules?"

The maintenance worker trembled in panic and turned around. In addition to fear, there was also a look of confusion on his face - he had no idea that Sevatar had been standing next to him and listening to their conversation for nearly twenty minutes.

Khalil just smiled at this.

He reached out and patted the maintenance worker on the shoulder, telling him in his hometown dialect not to worry, and then unnoticeably stuffed a cigarette that the maintenance worker had just distributed to his "fellow villager" back into the other's shirt pocket.

The maintenance worker knew nothing about this and just walked away, looking back every few steps. When he was about to reach the end of the corridor, he even shouted to Khalil amid the roar of the ship's engine.

"If you have something to say, just tell me! I'll go tell the Ultramarines! I heard that the Nightborne have a bad temper!"

Khalil couldn't help but smile and nod at him, then looked at Sevatar and shrugged with a rather strange expression.

"It seems that he thinks you are the kind of Astartes who would pick on mortals."

"I'm just looking for something for a mortal now." Sevatar replied in a muffled voice.

Khalil took a step back, bowed, and suddenly changed his expression to be cautious: "Okay, then what is it, the great Lord Yago Sevitarion?"

".You old—" Sevatar took a deep breath. "—Forget it, come with me."

He casually hung his helmet on his belt and walked into the darkness. Khalil quickly followed him and really walked behind him. They soon left the darkness, but the next person who appeared in front of Khalil was someone he didn't expect.

Robert Guilliman.

In other words, a monster version of Robert Guilliman, and a little bit special, well, I'm afraid not a little bit, because he doesn't have any wronged souls.

Khalil narrowed his eyes and walked quietly towards the giant who was sitting stiffly on the sofa, staring at the book in his hand in a daze, and reminded him of his presence with a cough.

Guilliman's head snapped up.

"Wait - you, no, I" He made a series of rapid sounds, then stood up hurriedly, put the book in his hand in his arms, and then began to explain.

"I am not Roboute Guilliman!"

He shouted like this, and half a second later he realized the existence of Yago Sevitarion. He looked at Sevitar, who had no expression on his face, in disbelief, and then at Khalil, his expression gradually becoming blank.

".Ah?" He couldn't help but utter a question.

"So, you are the instructor that Chapter Master Sevitarion mentioned?"

"I know, I'm a little short." Khalil nodded. "But I can teach you something, like the Terran Paleontological Guide or something like that. Anyway, it's all old-fashioned knowledge, and no one wants to learn it now."

Robert Guilliman accepted his statement with a complicated expression, then took a deep breath and said, "I am here to meet him."

"Who?" Khalil asked back, even deliberately making a puzzled face.

Guilliman continued to throw that blank look.

Sevatar, who stood expressionless behind Khalil, sighed very noticeably and then gave his answer.

"Robert Guilliman, what else, my Lord, who has suddenly become full of humanity? Can you stop asking these stupid questions?"

"We are on a tight schedule! I put this on the agenda as soon as we rendezvous with the fleet. Lord Macragge will be in this room in ten minutes at most. Don't you plan to use this time to figure out the situation?"

Khalil smiled at Guilliman, who had a nervous expression, then turned and began to explain to Sevatar.

"I understand your concern, Yago, but I don't think we need to worry about this - I mean, the question of whether I will be confused about the situation."

"Besides, come on, Cy, I'm not old enough to be confused. Even if I don't know what he is, I can see what he is."

"Also, dear First Reserve, what on earth have you been through to make your emotions so unstable right now?"

Sevatar silently took his helmet off his belt and slowly put it on.

"I understand."

Khalil repeated this to him, and looked back at Robouti Guilliman, telling him the whole story of what had happened a short time ago on Macragge's Glory.

He spoke of the incident in a straightforward manner, without any embellishment. It even made people feel that he was taking a knife to pick the bones of the incident, and the non-existent blood and meat were scattered on the ground at his feet.

Finally, under Guilliman's extremely complicated expression, Khalil suddenly clenched his fists and put them in his sleeves to announce the end of his story.

".Anyway, that's it." He turned and winked at Sevatar. "So your presence is not surprising to us, and you don't have to worry about any additional explanations."

"I—" Guilliman took a deep breath. "—I am worried about something else, Master Instructor."

Khalil shook his finger at him. "Just call me instructor, please. Or just call me by my name, Khalil. Isn't that easy to pronounce?"

Guilliman did not speak again. Perhaps he wanted to say something, but failed. There were probably two reasons. One was that Khalil's character at this time was completely different from what Sevatar had revealed to him on the road. The other was because a door was pushed open manually. A giant in an archon's uniform walked into the room with a frown, his eyes as bright as day. He closed the door, and Guilliman hurriedly stood up, wanting to say something, but he couldn't. After all these actions, the expression on his face became more complicated.

The giant looked at Kalil and Sevatar, then at him, and spoke slowly in a calm voice.

"In the past, my company commanders would never have agreed to let me come here to meet you without a fight, interrogation, and at least ten days or half a month of time."

"Besides, they will probably use various means to check you before you and I officially meet, making you feel unnecessary offense. I am glad that we can avoid these red tapes, but I still have some questions for you."

"Please ask." Guilliman replied quickly, his voice trembling slightly.

"Do you understand the difference between the Astartes and mortals? The difference between them, I mean."

"I understand."

"Please explain in detail."

Guilliman took a deep breath, began to organize his words, and began a long speech continuously and without interruption, even giving his own understanding.

"I believe that the Astartes are significantly superior to mortals in terms of life form, in every way. Strength, intelligence, lifespan, and even willpower, they are much stronger than mortals."

"But I don't think that means they are above ordinary people. They are born from ordinary people. Maybe some of them are not, but most of them come from ordinary people and stand out and become transformed supermen."

"Even if the transformation is not complete, they can defeat a hundred enemies alone. However, I do not believe that the Father - excuse me - Emperor created the Astartes to enslave mortals or to make them their rulers."

"The galaxy is strange and cruel. Mortals need protectors. Although they are strong enough and tough enough, they still need a new kind of weapon and shield to resist the darkness in the universe."

"So, in the Emperor's vision, or in my own imagination, the Astartes are weapons and shields, created to aid others - those who cannot fight, cannot protect themselves."

After he finished speaking, he let out a long breath and began to wait for the giant's answer, as if he was waiting for the final verdict of a trial.

There was a genuine uneasiness on his young face, and he thought he was hiding it well, but the truth was quite the opposite. Khalil dared to say that everyone in the room except him could see through his disguise.
Opposite him was the giant, the old, white-haired giant with wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. There was no expression on his face, no emotion was revealed, all was kept in his heart.

Khalil was going to say, this is going to be fun.
After all, this was Roboute Guilliman meeting another Roboute Guilliman. Young and old, experienced and new. They might become enemies, but Khalil felt that they would definitely become friends.

Unfortunately, this was not going to happen. This was true regardless of whether Yago Sevitarion used psychic power to communicate with him next. After all, this young blond boy was born from the evil magic of Chaos.

Just this point, it is difficult for him to have the power to survive

+Three days, Khalil. He spent three days on the way here coming up with a solution. +
+What's the solution? +
+Regarding the worlds that are at war, and the chaos that is happening on them, Roboute Guilliman. What we have seen and speculated on Calth has come true, and I am sure you have probably received many reports. +
+Yes, so what is the solution? +
Sevatar's next words made Khalil frown, and another voice was heard in the room.

“I agree with you,” said the Lord of Macragge.

He strode forward, stretched out his right hand, and shook hands with Robert Guilliman. The latter looked bewildered, but more of an emotion was a kind of joy at being recognized.

And the former.
Khalil sighed and laid back, closing his eyes and brooding into the darkness.

His humanity was growing stronger day by day, and it seemed that after taking back some fragments, the originally broken and melted glacier could begin to recover on its own.

He was not sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. After all, at certain moments, a heartless and unwavering killing machine was a hundred times more decisive than a merciful killer.

As he pondered these things, a wisp of his consciousness drifted away, and he quietly walked into a cemetery in the night wind. A giant with his back to him was shoveling the soil, and next to him was a newly made, uncovered sarcophagus.

Khalil greeted him silently, but the man turned around with a look of complaint on his face.

"You are just trying to escape out of habit again." Conrad Curz accused mercilessly. "Why? Are you reluctant to see the upcoming sacrifice?"

He shook his head, threw away the shovel in his hand, and suddenly sneered.

"I finally understand now, father, that the coldness and ruthlessness you showed in the past was just a self-protection mechanism, just like your previous paranoid sense of morality."

Khalil reached out to catch the flying shovel, carried it on his shoulder like a tree trunk, and walked towards Koz.

"I'm paranoid too, can't you see?"

"But at least you don't use it to demand it of everyone anymore."

"You seem to have a lot more free time after the war, Conrad."

Khalil reluctantly jumped down into the pit and started digging for him. Coze crouched down with a low laugh and began to mock him at the edge of the pit.

"What? You can't stand these two sentences? Or do you not want to dig a hole?"

"Neither."

“I sincerely seek a solution.”

Khalil thrust the shovel deep into the bottom of the pit, and stepped on the edge to drive it deeper. Then he looked up at Curze, but said nothing, and just lowered his head and began to concentrate on his work.

A few minutes later, he climbed up the pit holding Coze's hand, his knees and boots covered in mud, not to mention his fingers. But the work was not over yet, Coze turned around, picked up the sarcophagus, and carefully placed it in the pit.

The night wind blew their similar black hair. Khalil looked up at the moonlight that came from nowhere in the dark sky and suddenly asked.

"When do you think he'll come?"

"How should I know?" Curze shrugged and asked. "But I will wait."

He smiled and stepped back, disappearing into the dark night, leaving behind only a few gentle words.

"After all, he's already a hero."

(End of this chapter)