I don't know who I am, nor where I am from.
I only know that I was born.
I was born in a cramped gestation pod, arriving in this world alongside it.
I landed in a dense, primeval forest, blasting a blackened crater into the earth. The tremendous shockwave tore up the surrounding trees, leaving them fallen in a radial pattern.
The beasts of the forest fled in panic. Flocks of birds took to the sky from the canopy.
I don't know how long it took, but a group of mortals out hunting followed the trail of the gestation pod's descent and found me.
"What a lovely child."
"Be careful. It might be dangerous!"
"What danger could something so small pose?"
The cacophony of voices flooded my consciousness like a tide. Those unfamiliar syllables formed meaningful phrases in my mind. I understood what these people were saying. They were arguing about whether to open this metal sarcophagus that had fallen from the sky.
Through the viewport of the gestation pod, I saw countless faces, some frightened, some curious.
Some pointed at the unfamiliar runes on the pod and cried out. Others knelt in prayer. Many more gesticulated animatedly.
Finally, a tall man in a deep blue robe pushed through the crowd.
"Open it. We cannot leave him alone out here." His voice instantly silenced all arguments.
I remembered the man's name: Consul Konor Guilliman.
When the metal hatch opened, the forest sunlight stung my eyes.
Konor carefully cradled my back in the crook of his arm, as if holding a piece of fragile treasure.
Unlike the cold gestation pod, I could feel the warmth of his palm. This was the first warmth I had known since my birth.
"Tarasha, take care of him."
He carefully handed me over to a woman of extraordinary bearing.
She was tall and slender, her slightly curly hair tied in an elegant ponytail, wearing an olive leaf headdress.
She was a capable lady, but when her usually stern eyes looked me over, a rare emotion flickered within them.
Though she quickly concealed that unease with a gentle smile, I could feel her fingertips trembling.
She was afraid of me. Afraid of this infant who had fallen from the sky, curled up inside a metal gestation capsule.
I understood their concerns. After all, the manner of my arrival was too unique, even the beasts of the forest had fled in panic.
They knew full well that I was no ordinary child.
She removed her fine leather gloves and touched my cheek with her knuckle.
Though I couldn't yet grasp its meaning, I understood that she was greeting me.
"We must leave this place quickly, ladies and gentlemen. The hunt ends here!"
Konor's command made the hunting party abandon their hunt. They began to return the way they had come, all because of me.
I opened my eyes wide, curiously taking in my surroundings.
To me, this unfamiliar forest, these unfamiliar mortals, everything was novel.
This sense of novelty curiously suppressed the restless nature within me, that primal emotion called anger.
When they argued about whether to take me in, I felt a surge of anger burning in my chest. Their arguing was too loud.
But the moment Konor firmly said, "Open it," that anger subsided instantly.
The group began their return journey, the riders galloping along the forest paths.
On the way, we encountered a man.
He stood in the middle of the forest path, blocking the riders' way home.
The man's features were very unfamiliar. I had never seen him before, yet he felt familiar.
When he looked at me, I felt a strange connection, as if fate had suddenly tightened its grip.
I watched Konor's back. The Consul's voice was full of authority:
"I am Konor Guilliman. Stranger, your name is?"
"Caelan."
"A strange name. You have no family name?"
"Consider it Octavian."
Caelan Octavian.
I remembered that strange name, just like Konor Guilliman.
The man joined our group and returned with us to Macragge.
I began to feel bored. The forest scenery was monotonous. It had seemed novel at first, but quickly became tedious.
I closed my eyes and let my consciousness sink into darkness.
When I opened them again, a pure white city lay before me.
Sunlight poured onto the marble buildings, refracting dazzling light.
The man looked at the city and gave his assessment, "Very Roman."
Roman? What was that?
I was curious.
I tried to understand the meaning of the word, but no one explained it to me.
In their eyes, I was just a swaddled infant, incapable of understanding such complex words.
But the man still explained, seemingly for the Consul.
Yet I felt he was explaining it to me.
"Danica, find a wet nurse for this child. I'll pay five times the usual rate!"
Upon returning to the domus, Caelan, and Konor immediately left, as if having completely forgotten about me, engrossed in conversation with each other.
Lady Euten's command, however, was crisp and clear, carrying an undeniable authority.
I curled up quietly in her warm embrace, feeling the faint fragrance emanating from her.
Warmth was my earliest memory, and her arms were just as reassuring.
She cared for me as she would any ordinary infant, her eyes filled with a motherly, tender light.
But I could sense that she was still afraid of me.
At the terrace restaurant during the luncheon, Caelan, claimed to see the future. So, they wrote a name on paper: Roboute Guilliman.
When Lady Euten called me by that name, I already understood its meaning.
That was me.
I am Roboute. "Guilliman..." I mumbled the syllables, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence.
Some instinct reminded me that I should behave like an ordinary infant.
I had never known other infants, but I would try my best to act like them.
Even so, a child who could speak clearly right after birth was astonishing.
I frowned. I didn't understand. How ignorant were mortal infants?
"Roboute! What are you doing?"
At three months old, I was already the size of a five-year-old mortal child.
My mother's voice suddenly rose, carrying a note of panic I had never heard before.
I relaxed my fingers, and the brightly colored blue bird fell straight to the stone floor with a dull thud.
Its feathers were still bright, but no longer sleek. Its eyes were still wide open, but no longer lively.
"Playing." I answered calmly, my gaze shifting from the bird to my mother's pale face.
It shouldn't have stopped in the garden. This territory belonged to Mother.
Even worse, it had used its sharp beak to peck at the flower she cultivated so carefully, the one she gently stroked every morning.
I was angry. I grabbed it and crushed it.
Now it was quiet, stiff, cold, but it would never make a mistake again.
Mother staggered back a step. I tilted my head, not understanding why she wore that expression.
Just like at the beginning, she was afraid of me.
But why?
I didn't understand why Mother's expression had suddenly changed.
She hurried back to the front hall and sent away all the playmates my age she had specially found for me.
Those children, I had only glimpsed them from afar.
Some were richly dressed, nobles.
Some were plainly dressed, commoners.
But truly, I didn't feel disappointed.
They seemed too childish, their words and actions revealing a dullness I found hard to comprehend.
She left, to find Father.
Konor was a Consul, he had to manage the vast Republic, and couldn't always spare time for his family.
But Caelan, was different. He was always at home.
Sometimes he sat quietly in the library, reading ancient texts, or stood on the terrace gazing at the city's skyline.
But Mother didn't seem to realise, wherever he appeared, he was always watching over me.
Just like now. Caelan, stood silently among the flowers, watching me catch that bird, watching me crush it.
He didn't stop me, didn't even speak. He just let the scene play out, his gaze impassive.
He was right there, yet Mother hadn't seen him.
"Roboute, do you know what you're doing?" Father asked.
"I killed it," I answered.
"Why?"
"To protect Mother's flower."
"It wasn't trying to damage the flower. It was just attracted to it. Its punishment didn't fit the crime."
"Are you scolding me?"
"No." Father said. "Do you know why I didn't stop you?"
I shook my head silently.
"Because you wanted to kill it." Father's voice was soft, yet it made me feel uneasy.
"I do what I want?"
"Yes."
"Mother doesn't seem to think so."
"Because she is merely mortal. She is afraid of you."
"Aren't you mortal?"
"I am mortal too, but I have experience raising other Primarchs. I am not afraid of you."
"Am I not human?"
"You are human, but you are extraordinary."
In that moment, I suddenly understood.
Mother loved me because I was her child.
But Mother also feared me, feared my extraordinary nature.
"Will others be afraid of me too?"
"Everyone, except me."
"Even Father?"
"Yes, even Konor."
"Because I am extraordinary?"
"If they fear your extraordinary nature, that's just simple envy. What they truly fear is your inability to exercise restraint."
"I don't understand."
Father walked towards Mother's cherished flower. "You killed that bird because it nearly damaged Euten's flower, right?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"So..." Father gently stroked a delicate petal, then...
SNAP! He broke its stem.
"I just broke the flower. Do you want to kill me now?"
I stood still, anger building inside me. Not because Father broke the flower, but because of his question. "Why?"
"The bird didn't break the flower, yet you killed it. I broke the flower, so why don't you kill me?"
"You are my father." How could I kill my own father?
"Indeed, I am your father. But you have only four parents. You wouldn't kill us. But there are tens of millions of others in this world. If they broke a flower, would you kill them?"
The answer went without saying.
The life of a bird, the life of a mortal, in my eyes, there was no difference.
Neither the bird nor the mortal was connected to me.
And crushing their skulls would be just as easy as crushing a bird.
"I shouldn't have killed it?" The anger receded like an ebbing tide, replaced by an abyss of confusion and bewilderment.
Father said, "When I teach your brothers, I usually don't tell them what to do. Instead, I make them understand the consequences of their choices."
"Killing that bird will make your mother afraid of you. Soon, everyone will look at you the same way."
"The whole world will understand that the boy named Roboute Guilliman is a monster."
"If you exercise restraint and don't kill the bird, no one will discover your true nature. You will become a revered Primarch."
"What should I do, then?" I asked.
"The key isn't my advice, Roboute. It's what kind of person you want to become."
Father's eyes held a touch of reminiscence. It seemed he had given the same lesson to each of my brothers.
"I don't understand."
"Roboute, why do you get angry?"
"It's... my nature."
Father said, "An ancient Terran scholar once proposed a controversial idea: that all anger is fundamentally rooted in fear."
"People get angry because they feel pressure and threat."
"And the cause of that pressure and threat is usually fear."
"Extreme fear breeds extreme anger. Maintaining reason amidst anger is a virtue."
"Your mother is also filled with fear of your power. She is also angry at your disregard for life."
"But she exercised restraint. She didn't scold or blame you. Instead, she went looking for someone she believed could help you, me."
"I still don't understand." I had a vague notion, but only a superficial understanding.
"You don't need to understand completely. It's just a theory, and theories must be put into practice. Practice is the sole criterion for truth."
"How do I put it into practice?"
"Go apologize to your mother. Tell her why you killed that bird. Then ask her to invite those children back to keep you company."
"And then?"
"Then you can kill them and become infamous on Macragge."
"Or you can choose to restrain your emotions and not hurt anyone."
I looked up at my father. "Will you support me?"
"A world where only I support you, is that the future you want?"
I fell silent. That wasn't what I wanted.
Father's approval was precious, but if I killed those children, Mother would only be more afraid. I would lose her forever.
I raised my head. "I want both."
Father and Mother. I couldn't lose either!
Father gently tousled his blonde hair. "Such resolve at such a young age. Not bad, not bad."
What resolve? Wanting both?
I didn't understand, but Father's approval made me feel good.
Mother, having searched, hurried back to the garden. She was visibly startled when she saw Father.
"Caelan, when did you arrive?"
"I've been here the whole time."
Mother's gaze darted between me and the bird's corpse, her voice holding suppressed anger. "Then why didn't you stop him?"
"It was his choice." Father gave me a gentle push. "He should take responsibility for his actions and explain the reason to you, not me."
"I'm sorry, Mother." I raised my head, facing the sun.
Mother's fingers trembled slightly, but maternal love conquered the emotion called fear. She maintained a cool expression and tone. "What did you do wrong?"
"I thought that bird was going to peck at your flower, so I killed it. I shouldn't have done that."
Mother's gaze slowly softened. She crouched down slowly, cautiously reached out her hand, and tentatively placed it on my head.
"It was just a flower, Roboute." Mother's voice was as warm as her hand. "You can't... I don't want you to treat life so lightly. You should cherish life more."
"Even if it's just a bird, an ant, you cannot decide its life or death solely on your momentary whim."
"I understood from the very beginning that you are not an ordinary mortal."
"Compared to you, all life is weak."
"I won't ask you to use this power to protect others, but I don't want you to become arrogant and domineering."
I nodded gently. "I remember. Father also advised me the same way."
Mother's gaze lifted, looking past me to Father. "What did he say?"
"Father taught me that I must learn restraint. Maintaining reason amidst anger is a virtue."
Mother's hand gently smoothed away the last trace of aggression in me. "Your father is right, Roboute. He really does have experience."
She now believed that Caelan, had indeed taught multiple Primarchs.
If every Primarch had a personality like Roboute's, she couldn't imagine how Caelan, had persevered.
Mother's gaze suddenly fell on Father's hand, on the broken flower. "Caelan, I believe you owe me a reasonable explanation."
Father's expression became solemn. "Euten, it was a necessary sacrifice!"
"So you can just snap the flower I cultivated so carefully?" Mother's voice abruptly rose.
"Life is the Emperor's currency, and I have put it to good use!"
"You broke my flower!"
"The Imperium is founded upon sacrifice. This is an absolute truth!"
"Humanity continuously sacrifices itself. Sacrifice allows the human lineage to continue, generation, after generation, after generation."
"Not for any great ideal, because sacrifice itself is greater than any ideal!"
"But perhaps every person harbors a secret hope: that maybe one day, maybe ten thousand years from now, there will be a generation that no longer needs to sacrifice. A generation where humanity endures in peace."
"In your eyes, this is just a broken flower. But in my eyes, I see a new generation made real by our education!"
"You broke my flower!" Mother repeated, word by word.
"It died a worthy death. We can make flower cakes from it. Roboute, would you like to try a flower cake?"
"Stop changing the subject!" Mother scolded harshly.
Father finally conceded defeat, sighing helplessly. "Alright, this is my fault. I apologize."
He still protested weakly, "But it was a necessary sacrifice. Wasn't it worth it to use one flower to help Roboute understand the meaning of life?"
I shook my head and sighed. In this home, Mother was the master.
Mother's gaze fell on the broken flower and the stiff bird's corpse. "You will hold a funeral for them. Dig their graves, erect headstones, deliver eulogies, not a single step omitted!"
Caelan, nodded solemnly.
"We will forever honor their memory. The world will remember this day. This is the greatest sacrifice of our era!"
"What are you talking about?"
I saw Mother sigh helplessly. She probably thought Father had lost his mind.
.....
30 Chapters [email protected]/DaoistJinzu