The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Afterward, the two of them toured the entire automated factory, and only then did Illyrian truly realize how astonishing its scale and efficiency were. According to the figures given by Soshjan, if it were operating at full capacity, it could produce 100,000 standard, Class C or lower servitors per Terran week—Gellan roughly divided servitors into nine grades based on their usage and size, with those below Class C being small and micro servitors.

Moreover, Gellan's servitors didn't actually have fixed templates. The jellyfish servitors, in fact, could be transformed into servitors for other purposes and forms by replacing parts. The entire servitor system was highly modularized and universal. This was also why they only differed in size and function, without specific names, because they were essentially all the same thing.

When Soshjan told Illyrian that Gellan currently had 20 of these universal constructs, he was so shocked that he was speechless.

The first thing he thought of was—

"Can they also produce combat servitors?"

Soshjan grinned upon hearing this.

"Violence is indeed a common trait of humanity. When I first saw it, the first question that popped into my head was the same as yours."

The two of them had already returned to the hovercar, which was taking them to a facility on a higher level.

"Of course, it can. And if we really wanted to manufacture combat robots, their power would be quite terrifying, but the resources consumed would also be greater. The main point is... Illyrian, do you think I'm very unconventional now?"

Illyrian was also a smart man and immediately understood Soshjan's meaning, forcing a smile.

"I understand. It seems you still value the traditions of the Imperium... and the attitude of the Adeptus Mechanicus."

"It's difficult to do things in the Imperium. It's even harder to avoid being nitpicked. Look at me now, seemingly unparalleled in glory, but in reality, I'm walking on thin ice. I don't know how many people are waiting for me to stumble, then swarm in to trample me. A hero? A savior?"

Soshjan said, suddenly sneering twice.

"Only the dead have value. The living are just annoying."

Illyrian looked at Soshjan, hesitated for a moment, and then cautiously said a sentence.

"Are you very dissatisfied with the current state of the Imperium?"

"Judging by what you're saying, I can't imagine who would be satisfied with the current state of the Imperium."

"Uh... what I mean is, um, please forgive me, I'm not good with words, I can't explain it, please just take it as nonsense."

"I know what you mean. Do you think I want to create my own pocket empire that aligns with my ideas?"

Illyrian didn't answer, but silence was a response.

"I can tell you very clearly that I currently control two and a half sectors, and their systems, socio-economic structures, and even beliefs may be completely different from traditional Imperial worlds. However, the average lifespan is longer, the working hours are shorter, and the standard of living is higher. Illyrian, I dare not say that I have done a great job, nor dare I say that what I govern is a paradise on earth. Class differences always exist, oppression, corruption, and using power for personal gain also exist. People still have to work hard for their lives, labor, and bear taxes and military obligations. Then do you think I'm wrong?"

Illyrian shook his head almost without thinking.

"I understand. In your opinion, perhaps the Adeptus Astartes should have their own things to do. Fighting is almost the only job. Since the Great Heresy, we should have adhered to our duty as weapons, not think too much, not meddle in other people's affairs, and let others take responsibility for other things. Everyone has their own place... But, Illyrian, you should also be clear that being dutiful has always been just an 'ideal' for the management above the Imperial planets, an 'ideal' that has almost never been realized. Not to mention being dutiful, even just staying in one's own position is difficult to achieve. So the logic is very simple, if I don't act, these two and a half sectors will only be left with half, or maybe not even half. Since they can't do it well, then I can only do it according to my own ideas. This is the most basic principle of my actions."

After a moment of silence, Illyrian smiled rarely.

"You and the Thirteenth Primarch have amazing similarities in some aspects."

Soshjan also smiled.

"Is that so? Then I am very honored."

"The Ultramarines also govern their homeworld. It's just that their homeworld used to be very large, Ultramar was almost a complete sector, known as the Five Hundred Worlds, and now... the Ultramarines can only manage a few worlds. But their abilities have not weakened. Besides being excellent exemplary warriors, they are also fair managers, but they will be very restrained in using their power."

"The situation is different, and the foundation is also different. I've heard of the Five Hundred Worlds. During the Great Crusade, it was a famous prosperous place in the Imperium. Compared to the Five Hundred Worlds, the Storm Regions of these dark fringes are like the difference between the upper hive and the underhive."

"I understand."

"Speaking of the Thirteenth Primarch..."

Soshjan paused in the middle of his sentence. Seeing that he wasn't speaking, Illyrian asked in return:

"What's wrong?"

"I'm worried that saying it might offend you."

"How could anything about the Primarch offend me?"

"I just wanted to ask, during your years with the Ultramarines, have you ever seen Guilliman in person?"

Illyrian nodded.

"I was fortunate enough to see him once. With the special approval of Chapter Master Calgar, I entered the Holy Hall to pay homage to the Primarch."

"Is he still alive?"

Soshjan's words made Illyrian frown slightly, but he still patiently replied:

"The Thirteenth Primarch is still with his sons, but he cannot walk, and his condition is similar to that of the Emperor."

"For so many years, have the Ultramarines never tried to awaken him?"

"No one dares to risk the Primarch's safety..."

Illyrian pondered for a moment, realizing the meaning in Soshjan's words.

"Do you have any ideas?"

Soshjan crossed his arms and leaned back, resting his back on the soft sofa.

"What ideas could I have? It's just that Gellan here has advanced medical technology from ancient humanity, perhaps there's a solution inside."

Illyrian shook his head.

"I have also discussed this matter with people in the Ultramarines. As far as I know, the Thirteenth Primarch's problem is not medical technology, but involves the power of the Warp. At that time, he was slashed in the throat by his corrupted brother with a blade, and the injury was extremely severe, almost to the point of death. When technical means failed, the Librarians tried to find a solution from the psychic aspect, but it seems that the weapon used by the corrupted Primarch carried a very terrible Warp curse. The Librarians were completely helpless and could only move him into a stasis field..."

Suddenly, he lowered his voice.

"According to some people, the Thirteenth Primarch may have already passed away when he was moved into the stasis field, but no one dares to confirm this."

Soshjan touched his chin and nodded thoughtfully.

"I see, Warp power, no wonder they haven't intervened for ten thousand years. It seems Guilliman's situation is indeed very bad."