Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 505: Subtle influence from an unnamed person
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What is the most primitive human fear?
After being swallowed by darkness.

What returns first?
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First, the smell.

The smell of the disinfectant commonly used by Astartes pharmacists, the freshness of the thin ozone, and the stale self-circulating air commonly seen in spaceships that has been filtered multiple times and is covered by the first two...

The Thirteenth Primarch's light blond eyelashes trembled like dragonfly wings.

...It seems that this might be some kind of void ship or fortress's infirmary. The owner here pays great attention to disinfection and cleaning, but the conditions are limited.

Just as his stagnant thoughts began to move again, thousands of images of reality and dreams passed through his mind like a large group of migratory birds, and overlapped with the scene of the great war nine thousand years ago.

For a moment he saw before his eyes the scene of his children saving him before the evacuation of the Emperor's Pride... Hill... and then... and then he remembered the strange experience when he found himself in the body of another... and then - wait. Stop. Such things and scenes could not exist under the Imperial Truth!

So was it a dream or was it a reality that happened somewhere else while he was in a coma?

...and how to explain the fact that he can walk, talk, and eat with other people's bodies?

Robert Guilliman pursed his lips and felt his tongue, which had not touched water for who knows how long, moving dryly in his mouth. His taste buds only tasted disinfectant and a hint of blood, with a slight fishy smell. There was no aftertaste of cinnamon butter apple pie as he had expected, and of course there was no aroma of Terra tea and roasted dinosaur legs. What a pity.

From this point of view, it is more likely to be a dream, right?

Haha, he said, how could such supernatural things as soul leaving the body and supernatural powers be possible in the world?
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Then comes the sound.

The vibration and hum of the giant engine far, far away echoed in the long corridor that was as quiet as an empty graveyard. There was no sound of any staff or servants walking or talking, as if they had been abandoned in the sea of ​​stars... or were they escaping? Either way, it didn't sound good.

Only in this room, there were...one, two, three breathing sounds near him.

There was also the sound of the motors inside the power armor's servos, the sound of the backpack's reactor working - one of them was quite different, even dangerous.

An elegant voice with the unique resonance of Astartes came into his ears, carrying some relief for surviving the disaster and a hint of worry.

"It's too exciting for His Highness... He may have never seen such a mixed black market!"

black market?

The word "black market" appears in the context of a wounded Primarch's treatment and infirmary... It's a bit abrupt... No, it's not just abrupt, it can even be said to be very absurd.

His thoughts were scattered, his mind still unclear due to the scenes brought to him by the hands of a brother nine thousand years ago and recently, but the grief, anger and despair were unknowingly diluted a lot.

Where was this? He had a hard time figuring out where this was, the infirmary of his own Macragge's Glory, he was familiar with the place, and there were so few people here that he didn't notice anything familiar to him -

...Wait, this isn't going to happen again...
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Finally, there is light.

The bright and direct white light from the shadowless lamp shone through his eyelids, causing his pupils to expand and contract instinctively. Then, the Primarch of the Ultramarines slowly opened his eyes.

The touch of the surface of his skin had now completely returned to him, and Guilliman found himself properly placed on an operating table, with a layer of surgical gel pad carefully placed under his body, and even a soft plastic pillow considerately placed under his neck, which made him feel good - although he himself did not know that his body had actually remained in that position for nine thousand years - it was really good to be able to lie down for a while.

He did not get up immediately, but lay there, allowing his thoughts that had been interrupted by the stagnant position to reorganize, while experiencing the feeling of this body, trying to confirm "which" body this was.

——It looked very similar to his original body, but also a little subtly different.

Guilliman calmed down and felt something comfortable flowing in his veins. It was familiar and strange, and hard to describe because he had never had this feeling in his more than two hundred years of life experience. It was like a The Thinker that always overheated easily was equipped with a suitable cooling system.

In short, this body was very similar to his original body, but there were still some differences. To be honest, it seemed more... more perfect. At the same time, he suddenly realized that if he stood up and talked to people, he would gain some new insights about this body.

This made Guilliman even more certain of his previous guess.

He carefully felt the condition of his neck again. The wound that was cut by the grinning Fulgrim in his memory was still there, but the poison that his corrupted brother injected into his body through the sword had now been completely cleared out. The powerful recovery ability of the Primarch had caused the flesh there to begin the process of healing. Only a smooth flesh-pink new scar could be seen on the surface. At this rate, this scar might disappear after healing.

With the previous wonderful adventure experience, combined with the analysis of the current scene, Lord Macragge quickly made up his mind this time - most likely it was some kind of omen experience or some kind of invitation dream from his brother - because he really couldn't think of why his descendants would use such a scene to welcome the awakening of their Primarch.

Since there are doubts that this may not be the real world where he is, and he doesn't know where this is, it would be better to just ask these ready-made "people" around him what the current situation is.

According to my previous dreaming experience, multiple people in the dream can interact with each other. It would be even better if I could find a brother here.

Of course, all of the above happens in the blink of an eye.

He then stood up and joined the bedside conversation in a (what he thought was) friendly manner.

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"What do you think?"

This is a question, not a question.

Maneus Calgar and his officers stood beneath the stone columns outside the Chapter Master's private quarters.

They had just completed their first audience with "him" since he woke up.

Today the sky over Magna City is overcast and the weather is unpredictable, just like the mood of the Ultramarines Lords at this moment.

Now, all the masters who could be summoned from the chapter have arrived here, except for the Fourth Company Captain Uriel Ventress who has been executed for the death oath and has not yet returned, and Sergeant Lyrchus is temporarily in charge of the affairs of the Fourth Company. The rest of them are the people who are in charge of the lifeline of the Extreme Marines and all the loyal and reliable fighting brothers.

Chief Pharmacist Helix had done a preliminary examination of the patient in the room. Although his body had many scars and traces of battle, he was miraculously in good condition overall. He just didn't understand what was going on with some of the readings - but the medical treatment of a possible "clone" or "fragment" of the Primarch was not recorded in the Astartes Codex or any regulations! So even though Helix was experienced in treating other people and had exquisite skills, he could only ensure that he could conduct the examination within the maximum error-free range.

Fortunately, according to the examination results, the chief pharmacist said that the body structure of their genetic father's temporary residence was still very close to that of an ordinary Astartes, but with a few more organs of unknown purpose in the body, and there were no signs of poisoning or vitality decline. He had carefully injected nutrients and other medicines into it according to his experience in waking up sleeping Fearless pilots. Now all he had to do was wait for this "Astartes" with the face of their genetic father to wake up.

During this period, Tigris and Cassius also "tested" the Sleeper in their own ways. The latter almost immediately concluded that this must be a test or omen of some kind of divine emperor descending upon their genetic father - because when Cassius performed the state religion ceremony, the platinum light emanating from "him" almost penetrated the room and soared into the sky, making even the golden candlelight seem dim.

Even the most cautious Tigris had to admit that at least these forces were peaceful, neutral, and pure, and had nothing to do with chaos and evil.

That was enough to keep the others waiting until the pharmacist's work was done.

And just now, Helix excitedly announced that "he" woke up.

The "saint" - that's all they could call him now - who was "pulled" back from their stolen father by Calga with the help of Tigris, came to his senses.

The masters, who still had some doubts, gathered around the medical cabin and witnessed this sacred moment together.

And when the man who slowly sat up raised his eyes and met the eyes of everyone in the room with his deep gaze, everyone was shocked, even with tears in their eyes, and knelt down to salute him.

What a pair of eyes those are!

It is as blue as the clear sky of Macragge, but the haze in its eyes is like the dark clouds before a storm. Just one glance can make people feel the trembling deep in their souls, as if all the secrets and darkness in their hearts are exposed and ashamed under this gaze.

It was as pure and clear as a teenager, yet profound and experienced as if it had gone through billions of years. "His" sight swept over every Ultramarines present one by one. There was some unique meaning in his eyes as he looked at the young people, and the expression on his face that was exactly the same as their genetic father's, all of which conveyed a message to every chapter master present: although "he" should not know them, they have known each other for a long time, and "he" has a natural familiarity and closeness to them.

Now they were allowed to come out and deal with the surrounding affairs. Taking this opportunity, the masters gathered together to make a final decision.

The psychic ripples of emotion vibrated gently in the air.

Finally, it was Calgar who spoke first.

"I think..." He thought for a moment and said, "Perhaps we can refer to a legend among our cousins, the Blood Angels."

"You mean the legendary herald of Lord Sanguinius?" Captain Agman frowned slightly but nodded. "If the rumor is true, then the situation we are facing now is indeed very similar to that of Sanguinius."

"Besides," added the Lord of Priests Cassius, "this is different from the legend that not everyone can witness it. Many of us were on the scene and witnessed with our own eyes how we took back a part of the sacred Guilliman. He will become a complete human form and stay among us, and even escape death and come back to life. This is a miracle no matter how you look at it!"

His voice gradually became more frenzied.

"A miracle! Everyone! A miracle granted to us by the Holy Emperor! A miracle that allows us to hear the will of a Primarch again after ten thousand years!"

Although Tigris had a thoughtful look on his face, at this moment, no one refuted what Otan Cassius said.

"Then," said Calgar, "let's go in and see our father's saint again and listen to his teachings. Perhaps we can find a way to restore our father more quickly."

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Among the three, Hong Suo was the first to react.

"Yes, Lord… I mean, Lord Guilliman, you are awake."

He took a step forward and saluted the other party first. When he saw that the other party frowned at his gun-silver armor and black and yellow striped paint, he quickly added a sentence before anything happened.

"I am... well, I am your healer and only pharmacist. My name is Honso, sir." He lowered his voice again and said to Guilliman, "I am also the personal pharmacist of your... fourth brother. The situation is complicated now, and it is difficult to explain it in a few words."

The awakened Primarch was radiant and vivid, like a god descending from heaven, and the gray and dying memorial statue standing in a stagnant position could never imitate him in the slightest.

There were less than twenty demigods in the galaxy, and they were brought to the makeshift infirmary on the Indomitable. Although Roboute Guilliman was not wearing armor, only the toga he wore when he was sent into stasis, his perfect body and the grace in his gestures still dazzled the other two Astartes, especially Kadalas Grendel, who did not know how to react for a moment.

All these details were taken in by the awakened Primarch. He even took a special look at Grendel, who subconsciously tapped his breastplate and saluted him again.

——The overall temperament of this Iron Warrior undoubtedly left a good impression on the Thirteenth Primarch.

Guilliman nodded.

"You said you were my fourth brother's personal apothecary. Your armour tells me which Legion you belong to, Honsou," the Thirteenth Primarch repeated calmly. "But Perturabo was one of the men who betrayed us, following Horus. How dare you mention to me that you still serve him?"

Here it comes. A storm was raging in the master potion master's mind, but he showed no sign of it on his face.

This would be one of the biggest chess games of his life, and it would be a fast game, with his life and plans at stake, while his opponent would be a master of logic and strategy in the universe who might be second only to or as strong as his gene-father, a true son of the Emperor, a living Primarch.

Can he win this fast game?
——One has to try, right?

Look, up to now he has done so many things that are not obvious but everyone thought he was doomed to fail. But here he is standing, and he has succeeded in almost all of them.

"Sir, you don't know." When the master of medicine looked up, the expression on his face was sincere and sad, not fake. "Our current situation is not optimistic."

"And I would like to ask, do you remember anything before you lost consciousness?"

A thoughtful look appeared on Robert Guilliman's face.

(End of this chapter)