There is always a lot going on for Roboute Guilliman, especially now.
Papers piled up in his office like an avalanche; two of the command boards were even broken. Information flooded at him like a tsunami, ranging from the dispatch of the legion to the placement of refugee ships.
Because there were so many refugees, Guilliman had to urgently allocate four more space ports to accommodate the refugees, while speeding up the review and identity release of the refugees.
Anyone else, even any other Primarch, would be overwhelmed by these countless complicated and tedious documents.
But he is the Lord of Macragge, Roboute Guilliman. You can question the working speed of anyone in the universe, but you cannot question Roboute Guilliman's.
Guilliman put down his pen and finished his review.
He put down his pen with satisfaction, feeling the heavy sense of joy after completing his work, and Guilliman picked up the tea and sipped it.
Now he had 17 minutes and 36 seconds of rest time. Next, the intelligence from the eastern part of Ultramar 500 World would arrive. Three minutes later, the data on Macragge's security would also be updated. Then it would be the dispatch of the Legion...
Guilliman sipped his tea and stared expressionlessly at the two Primarchs slumped on the sofa across from his desk.
Angron was sleeping with his head tilted back against the sofa, his relaxed muscles rising and falling with his breathing.
Mortarion bent over, carefully examining the map of Ultramar on the low table, circling and marking it with a pen from time to time.
Seeing the movement from Guilliman's side, Mortarion raised his eyes from the shadows.
The two looked at each other in silence, and Angron, who was sleeping soundly, let out a perfect snore at the right moment.
Guilliman took a deep breath.
[Excuse me,]
Guilliman said politely,
[You two, you can go somewhere else to kill time. ]
He watched Mortarion slowly raise an eyebrow.
[Then let's go to Triumphal Street.] Mortarion pulled out a map of Macragge and pointed at it with a pen. [There's an amusement park there.]
Guilliman thought that now, the probability that he would smash the cup in his hand on Mortarion's head was definitely zero.
[…You want to go to the playground? ]
Guilliman raised his hand, ready to ask the Ultramarines to take the two humanoid ornaments out.
[No,]
Mortarion said slowly,
[You should close it, and all other entertainment venues. You can keep some bars as emergency water supply, but the rest should be closed, and schools should be fully closed, followed by a curfew, and restricted access and closures in each block. ]
Guilliman was silent.
Ultimately, he chose to recalibrate the image of Mortarion in his mind.
[Now? ]
Guilliman asked, [Ultramar is not under attack right now, which would cause unnecessary chaos and destabilize the people.]
Mortarion held out a hand.
[People’s hearts are unstable? ]
The Lord of Death sneered,
[They have plenty of food - grain, vegetables, meat, and even a wide variety of spices. The water is also plentiful and clean, and the air is breathable. Do you think that under such circumstances, the people of Macragge will become unstable?]
In the past for Babarus, this would have resulted in a huge boost in morale.
Guilliman was silent, and Mortarion stared at Guilliman as a matter of course.
Guilliman recalled his previous conversation with Euden. Mortarion came from Barbarus, a world of death. There was a natural gap between him and them. He could not understand Guilliman, just as Guilliman did not understand him.
[Macragge is not a military world, and the people here have not been fully mobilized. ]
Mortarion paused.
[You don’t need to mobilize—]
Mortarion paused, his eyes gleaming with disbelief, and he looked at Guilliman as if he were looking at a fish that had grown two legs and was running on the ground.
Mortarion chuckled.
[You have spoiled the people here, Guilliman.]
This is their right.
Guilliman replied calmly, "They deserve it."
Mortarion stared at Guilliman, and for a moment, Guilliman saw the Death holding his scythe in confusion, but Mortarion lowered his head.
[All right,]
Mortarion said,
[I have warned you, Roboute Guilliman, if you will trust me - then you shall do so.]
Guilliman put down his tea, sat upright, and crossed his hands on the table.
Mortarion,
Guilliman said solemnly,
[I respect and am willing to trust you. You are the most outstanding anti-psychic Primarch among the three of us. In many matters, you can discover hidden dangers that we cannot see.]
[But Ultramar has its own rules. I understand your good intentions. If a curfew and the measures you proposed are suddenly implemented now, Macragge will immediately fall into the chaos brought about by this policy - I don't want my people to march in Macragge for their right to freely go in and out at night. ]
[procession?]
Mortarion spoke, and as if he didn't believe it, he repeated it again.
[Parade, at this time?]
Guilliman was a little annoyed. He thought that every word he used was clear enough.
[Yes, demonstrations. When policies are unreasonable and disturb the public sentiment, people will demonstrate. But under my management, Macragge has not had any demonstrations for fifty-three years—]
You should shoot them.
Mortarion said calmly that he had now glimpsed the false truth beneath this paradise. The reason why this place was a paradise was not because Guilliman himself was so powerful - but because it was lucky enough.
It has not yet experienced the pain of war.
Mortarion stood up and left the room. He had said all he needed to say. Now, let's see if this paradise can continue to be lucky.
Guilliman stood up, looking angry at Mortarion's last words. He leaned his arms on his desk and shouted in the direction Mortarion left.
[Ultramar has a complete defense system and sufficient alert troops. There is no need for us to intervene in people's livelihood—]
Guilliman shouted. He had deduced the defense countless times. The war would start from Mandeville Point. The Ultramarines' reconnaissance array in the space station would be the first to discover the enemy. Then there would be a fleet battle. The missile silos on nearby planets would support them. Then there would be a boarding battle, or the war would be brought to the ground...
Countless interlocking links make up a war. In this war, the only time civilians appear is to provide supplies and boost morale for his legion and replenish auxiliary troops in time.
Guilliman took a deep breath, thinking that Mortarion was testing his patience.
[Mortarion, look at yourself, the reason you ask the people of Macragge to - Ugh!]
Angron suddenly covered Guilliman's mouth. Guilliman glanced to the side in horror and found that the Lord of Red Sand, who had been sleeping just now, had come to his side without knowing when.
Angron made a gesture to silence him, and after receiving Guilliman's affirmative nod, he slowly lowered his hand.
[He is in a bad mood. We should be more considerate of him, Guilliman.]
Angron said softly,
[You can complain to Lady Jotun later, but Mortarion can't do that.]
[Of course he can't go find Yudon! ]
Guilliman roared, and Angron smiled helplessly.
Beep beep beep beep beep
Today is gone
(End of this chapter)