In this universe, Slaanesh is Long Aotian. He said that he wanted gender change, bitterness, and sweetness in love.
Thus, the original body in this universe changed its gender.
Let us just say thank you Slaanesh.
Warning↓
Gender change, twisted plot, full of stereotypes, second-person galgame with a good love story, slightly borderline.
It's all stereotypes and does not restore the original work.
Since it is classified as a light novel, I have to write about the otaku flavor of light novels!
[First Legion] Lion El'Jonson
She is a lioness from the forest of Caliban.
She has a tall and strong body, a plump figure, a strong and streamlined waist, and she has both explosiveness and power.
His hair was straight and blond and below his hood were mysterious green eyes that were unpredictable.
Leon seldom spoke, but every time she spoke, it was like a heavy sword piercing the heart.
She is the eldest sister who always has a stern face, cruel and cold. In her world, there is only submission and conquest.
"The First Legion has no secrets."
She spoke, loyalty being her unchanging character.
.
—galgame line—
You are the wolf king. (No)
You are a Knight of Caliban, her most trusted Dark Angel subordinate, her right-hand man.
It was a routine reporting mission, and her cold green eyes looked down at you from above.
On a cold dark green throne, elaborately carved with patterns and emblems of loyalty and honor, she lies in her forest.
You are used to it. Jonson is that kind of person. It’s not that she doesn’t care about her offspring. The chivalrous culture of Caliban has deeply shaped her. She cares, but she can’t show it.
She has been in power for too long. She is the king of Caliban and she is no longer good at communicating with her peers.
But it doesn't matter, I am your dark angel, a knight under the king, and I offer you my eternal loyalty.
"You did a great job on this mission."
The praise is beyond words.
Simple and clean beheading, efficient pacification, stupid enemies, her knight is her sharpest sword,
"What reward do you want?"
You looked up, quite rebelliously, but your deep blue eyes looked at her.
She smiled.
.
[Second Legion]
She was forgotten.
You have been forgotten too.
.
[Third Legion] Fulgrim
She was the Phoenix of the Phoenicians.
Perfect, elegant, long fingers with elaborately embellished purple nails and golden powder sparkling in between.
Her soft silver hair fell like a waterfall, swaying with her swordsmanship, dazzling the eyes.
The body has perfect curves, without any visible muscle outline, but it is full of strength and can cut off the enemy's head easily and gracefully.
She is the intimate third sister, beautiful and charming.
“We are always on the road to perfection.”
The purple-pink lips opened and closed.
.
—galgame line—
You are Finus Manus. (No)
You are a son of the phoenix with extremely good looks and moderate obsessive-compulsive disorder.
You stand on the training ground, looking at the training post with some annoyance. For some reason, you can never make the perfect final strike in that sword technique.
You vented your anger by slashing at the stake opposite you with your sword.
"Oh, my daring, this is not right."
The long, smooth hair hanging down from the top of the head makes you feel a little itchy, and the hot, steady and long breath caresses your neck.
The primarch's arms wrap around your waist from behind, grasping the sword in your hand.
She was not wearing any armor, and a necklace made of purple and pink beads and gold thread was wrapped around her white arms in a lazy arc.
"That's not elegant, and the sword will be sad."
She held you, exerting a little force.
You hold your breath, follow the rhythm of the Primarch, and swing the sword with perfection.
"That's right."
You looked up behind you and her purple eyes smiled at you.
.
[Fourth Legion] Perturabo
She is the relentless steel of Olympia.
He had short, neat dark grey hair and an iron tube of information without any aesthetic appeal extending from his head, receiving the ever-changing information on the battlefield.
He has a plump body and his muscles are bulging vigorously.
She is moody, yet compassionate and self-pitying. She always accepts heavy burdens without saying a word and perishes while gritting her teeth.
The black eyes drowned out all the gazes directed at her.
Beneath the steel-like appearance is a soft heart that is about to suffocate.
.
—galgame line—
You are an Iron Warrior with a high emotional intelligence and a professional level 10 in Perturabo.
Perturabo had been confined to her workshop for three months, ever since her last battle with the Imperial Fists.
After the eleven kills, the other Iron Warriors no longer had the energy to visit their mother and could only hope that she would stop being angry.
You counted on your fingers and it was almost time for her anger to subside and she hoped someone would come to see her.
If I go to see her a little later, she will become angry again as to why I came to see her so late.
You stand at the door of her studio and knock three times.
"My Lord, are you okay?"
No response.
You count three Terra standard points in your mind and repeat the action just now.
When you repeat it for the 34th time, the door opens.
She has her back to you, still working on the delicate machinery in her hands.
She was wearing only a corset on her upper body and loose gray and black overalls on her lower body.
Her spine was clearly visible. Scars crisscrossed her back, rising and falling with her breathing.
You sighed inwardly.
"Excuse me, my Lord. Please forgive me for crossing the line."
You walked over and sat next to her workbench.
Perturabo was carving a small theater, which was very delicate and beautiful with its multi-layered arched structure.
You don't say anything, just watch her carve quietly.
She is very quiet now, with a rare tenderness in her eyes.
"This is what I wanted to give to Guilliman."
She said in a muffled voice when the last structure was carved.
You didn't speak.
“Why can’t people see us?”
Still saying nothing, you simply held her hand that was about to destroy the theater model.
She stopped.
You feel her hand, trembling slightly.
.
[Fifth Legion] Chagatai Khan
She is the war eagle soaring over Chogorias.
She had wild black hair and a Chogorian headdress adorning her wings.
In her thick black hair, bright red, bright green, and white hairbands, symbolizing purity and supremacy, were wrapped around her long hair strand by strand.
The body is strong and beautifully streamlined, with distinct muscles and a sensual feel.
A woolen robe wraps a free soul.
On the galloping chariot, there is her unbridled indulgence in her love.
.
—galgame line—
You are a very wise and gentle White Scar.
Although your legion has been ignored or even forgotten, you know that she did it on purpose.
She did not have too many ambitions. Chagatai understood the wisdom of the ancient East, and was simple and moderate.
Extremes always lead to disaster, and excessive pursuit of individuality will only bring destruction.
She skillfully adjusts the direction of the Legion and accurately allows you to pursue freedom.
Greenskins, plains, racing, the war you experience is always like this.
The war has subsided, and Chagatai plans to go racing on the plains today. You should put on your helmet and ride on the reconnaissance motorcycle.
Don't fight the bike, it will be lighter and faster without the restraint of weapons.
Chagatai turned her head. She was not wearing a helmet and her eyes were shining.
"Walk!"
It's another beautiful day in White Scar.
.
[Sixth Legion] Leman Russ
She is a wolf of the Fenris Icefield.
The tousled golden hair looks very warm, with rough twisted braids interspersed in between.
Drink wine and eat meat!
The wolf king sat on her dirty wooden table, tearing off a piece of bloody meat with her fangs.
The gravy and blood dripped down together, falling onto her unfathomable breasts, and then slowly flowed along her full curves.
Laugh, laugh, and scare those cowards again!
Her hearty laughter echoed through her large, bustling dining hall, where her offspring used both hands to dispose of the barbecue on the long wooden table in a messy manner.
.
—galgame line—
You are the Lion King. (No)
You are a Space Wolf who is very good at fighting, even better than Leman Russ. At the same time, you are also a good drinker and eater.
Besides, you have brains.
"Comb it faster."
Ruth snorted, letting out a canine-like threatening hum.
Without hesitation, you took the big comb in your hand and pulled at the dead knot of hair that looked like it was more than a hundred years old.
“Ouch!”
She hugged her head instantly, and a lock of hair fell directly from her head.
"I'm sorry, my Lord, your hair really needs to be combed slowly."
The canine's threatening snoring sounded again, but this time, Riemann was much more obedient. She crossed her legs, supported her feet with her hands, and wandered around idly.
Obviously, with the original body's ability, it is not difficult to braid herself into a pigtail, but she always designates you to do it and tortures two people at the same time.
You remember the last time you combed her hair was three months ago, how come she managed to keep it so messy as if a hundred years had passed.
Finally, Riemann looked at herself in the mirror with satisfaction. Her long hair swayed with her movements, like a wolf's tail.
"Good, I'll find you next time!"
With a leap, you are knocked to the ground, and your chest is filled with fuzzy, prickly hair.
It is indeed very warm.
You think of it.
.
[Seventh Legion] Rogal Dorn
She is the king from her pocket kingdom.
He has neat short white hair, never smiles, and always has a stern face.
Golden carvings surround her, yet there is no extravagance; heavy glory is her crown.
The fleshy body is heavy, yet full of stable strength.
There is a firm belief in those icy blue eyes.
"For the Emperor."
She is loyalty, she is glory.
.
—galgame line—
You are Sigismund (not).
You are an extremely loyal, flexible, and relatively smooth Imperial Fist.
Dorn, who seems hard and unkind, actually has her own lovely side.
She always fell asleep hugging the blanket her grandfather gave her. Her huge body would automatically curl up on the bed, hugging her small blanket tightly.
When she was under too much pressure, she would mutter a few words in her sleep from time to time.
As her son, you naturally want to help your mother.
You thought as you looked at the wrinkled blanket that she had unconsciously crumpled.
So, you sewed a small stuffed bear for her. Although it was small for the Primarch, it was already big for a Space Marine.
A light yellow bear with red-gold button eyes and furry. You even made sure the fur was the same texture as her blanket.
You deliberately picked a time period to give her a report on your achievements, and when it was finally your turn, you took out your furry teddy bear.
Dorn raised his eyebrows for a rare moment on his stern face.
"You shouldn't make such jokes in such a serious situation."
Of course you were fined.
However, after that, you saw the stuffed bear that was also crumpled.
.
[Eighth Legion] Kondrakoz
.
She is a ghost in the dark night.
Pain, pain, agony, screaming.
No, you can't go to places where there is light. It's too bright, too bright.
Death, slaughter, fear, anger, screaming.
Her long black hair covered her pale face. Blood and fat were clotted in her hair, and there were even scattered spider webs in it.
The sunken eye sockets and the dark, lifeless eyes were filled with madness and persistence.
She was thin, and unlike most of the other Primarchs who had a plump body, she was skinny and looked like a skeleton.
Destruction, darkness, prophecy, future.
This world is destined to struggle and perish. She will die. She will die!
Everyone will die!
No hope, no salvation!
Tortured in this long night!
—galgame line—
You are Sevatar. (No)
You are the first person in the hive who is willing to help Curze. You are kind and strong enough to survive her madness.
You saw that strange little creature in the bottom nest of the hive.
This human cub had just crawled out of the incubator, all wet, and she looked...very weak
You, who were originally planning to cut off the dead flesh, were suddenly a little touched. You, who were struggling in the bottom nest, rarely saw defenseless babies.
You thought about it, took off your greasy and dirty coat, wrapped it around her, and put some rat meat in it.
"Hold me."
The baby uttered broken words.
Of course you didn't hug her.
Then
Then you leave, and the kindness and ability you have left are only enough to do this.
She was destined to die, but before she died, you couldn't help it and did some useless work.
But afterwards, the Bottom Nest suddenly became much safer. Every day, hundreds of scum were hung on the walls of the Bottom Nest, all of them skinned and bloody.
No one has bothered you recently, and from time to time, you will find a pile of skinned rats where you sleep.
When the Emperor arrived, you learned that the baby was Kondrakorze.
She's going crazy again.
You sighed and stepped into the dungeon, cold, sticky blood flowing on the floor and staining your feet.
In the darkest corner of the room, where countless tattered bodies were piled, there was something there.
You sighed again, walked over resignedly, and sat on a random corpse.
"You will die."
"You are guilty."
The ghost whispers on your shoulder.
"You will die miserably, screaming before you die. You will call for your mother. I will inject you with a painful medicine, and then you will be terrified and excited."
You shrugged. This was the one hundred and eighth way to die you had ever heard of.
She licked your face.
"Why aren't you afraid? The future is a dark chaos, no one can be saved, the wise are stupid, the kind are crazy, why aren't you afraid?"
You don't move.
"Hold me."
She said, and then her tone became more intense.
"Hold me, fucking hold me, I saw you holding me, fucking hold me!"
You didn't move. It was the only thing you could do.
You want to prove to her that prophecies are not necessarily correct.
"Fuck you, hug me!"
She whipped you away, your body slid into a curve, and then hit the wall heavily.
The ghost from the shadows appeared and laid directly in your limp and exhausted arms.
"That's right."
.
[Ninth Legion] Sanguinius
She is an angel of Baal.
She is the most perfect angel in the empire.
Plump and smooth curves, fair and smooth delicate skin, a kind face, always looking at everyone with a smile.
With soft, light-blonde curly hair and sky-blue eyes as gentle and kind as spring water, she is a holy being that walked out of an ancient oil painting.
White wings spread out behind her back, soft and beautiful, gently brushing the air and taking her into the sky.
She is an archangel, she is Sanguinius.
.
—galgame line—
You are Horus. (No)
You are an ordinary person.
You are very ordinary. You may not even be a Blood Angel. You look very ordinary and your martial arts skills are also very ordinary. The only thing that can be said is that you have some artistic talent, but not much.
You can analyze those particularly beautiful oil paintings, but that's all you can do. Your analysis is far different from that of other art masters.
You are also confused as to why the perfect angel chose you.
You wonder if she's playing a trick on you, but that's not her attitude.
As for you, of course you love her, but you are indeed confused.
The door to the room opened and Sanguinius walked in wearing a simple white robe, a green olive leaf laurel wreath perched on her golden hair.
She folded her wings and held a bowl of grapes in her hands.
"Would you like to eat something?"
She reaches for a grape and eats it, poking you with the tip of her wing.
The soft feathers prick you and make you feel itchy.
"Hmm angel?"
"Well, what's wrong?"
She looked at you curiously, with tenderness and kindness in her eyes.
"Why on earth do you fancy me?"
“I’m not perfect at all.”
Sanguinius smiled, raising his eyebrows.
“True love has no preconditions.”
She loves everyone, and she loves you too.
.
[Tenth Legion] Fenus Manus
She is the steel of Medusa.
Dull short black hair, serious expression, everything is the color of steel.
A sturdy body, strong muscles, and silver-black iron hands shining on her arms.
He often has a stern face, but sometimes he can laugh heartily. He is rational, serious and responsible.
Compared to his best friend the glowing phoenix, Fulgrim, he doesn't like to decorate himself much. Although he has a logo symbolizing glory, it is either black or gray.
Pursue rationality, but also accept reality.
This is Finus Manus.
.
—galgame line—
You are Fulgrim. (No)
You are a rational, responsible, serious, yet soft-hearted person.
Every day, you follow your Primarch to check various equipment and instruments in the legion, sort out information, and analyze and organize it.
Every day of yours is precisely cut into small pieces by her.
She knows exactly when to do what and when to be most efficient, like a sophisticated electronic instrument.
But Fenus is human, she has emotions of her own.
She is very rational, so rational that she knows that emotions need to be expressed rather than concealed.
Finus left time for herself every day, time for her to relax.
The work day is almost over, she sits on her steel throne and looks at you silently.
You walked over to her with ease and gave her a hug.
Fenus smiled, her head buried in your shoulder, breathing evenly.
For you, it's just another ordinary day.
.
［Eleventh Legion］
She was forgotten.
You have been forgotten too.
.
[Twelfth Legion] Angron
She is the Lord of Red Sand.
Her strong muscles, crisscrossing scars, and bare arms bear the memories of her pain and glory.
The Butcher's Nail was firmly stuck deep in her brain. Silver-gray bloody nerve chains stretched out from her scalp, announcing its control over the Primarch with its fangs and claws.
His originally gentle face was now filled with anger and unconscious nerve twitches.
She is a broken deity.
On her lower back, the black line that symbolizes shame and failure is her final self.
From that time on, there was no more Angron in the world.
.
—galgame line—
You are Lorgar. (No)
You are Kahn. (No.)
You are her last comrade in the duel arena on the star of Nuklia.
But that is a distant memory.
You still remember Angron at that time, before she was nailed, she was humble, gentle, always liked to hug others, and selflessly gave them encouragement and support.
She always likes to listen to others' misfortunes and comfort their suffering souls.
She is gentle, she is kind, and she has listened to so much suffering.
But she is the most unfortunate one.
She was nailed, you watched her struggle, you watched her beg, you watched her cry.
Finally, the angry roar filled the entire duel arena. Her roar lasted for three days and three nights.
She has changed, but she is still struggling to nail her soul.
She is still the same as before, liking to hug others, comfort others, feel sad for others, and feel happy for others.
But when she holds you, you can hear the roar of nails coming from inside her head.
She became a little irritable and her nose started bleeding, with blurry pieces of flesh flowing out of her tall nose.
But she was still so kind and merciful, and she wanted to get everyone out.
On the last day, she shared her flesh and blood with the hungry rebels, vowing to die on the battlefield and return to the red sand together.
However, she escaped.
The traitor.
All were put to death except you, who lay among the dead, and the sword that had pierced your heart had not taken your life.
A giant named Kahn found you, took you back, performed surgery, and you became a giant too.
Then you saw her, the slave imprisoned in honor, in loyalty, the mad Angron on the throne.
"Angron"
The madman turned his head and saw you.
She is back again.
She tried fiercely to control her expression, but she failed. Her muscles twitched, her saliva flowed, and a mixture of despair and ecstasy appeared.
Angron looked at you and knelt down.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry"
Angron's muscles twitched uncomfortably, the roar of nails could be heard in the distance, and minced meat flowed from her nose.
You walked over and hugged her.
"I'm sorry, I thought you ran away."
Angron closed his eyes in pain.
"Kill. Me. Kill me."
You didn't kill her.
But after this, she was sentenced to eternal imprisonment.
.
[Thirteenth Legion] Robouti Guilliman
She is the pride of Macragge.
Short golden hair and a perfect smile of a politician, friendly yet distant.
What couldn't be seen in her sky-blue eyes was what she was thinking at the moment.
With perfect lines and proportions, she is like an ancient Roman sculpture.
She and her legion are symbols of the glory of the empire.
In her arms, under her wings, in the five hundred worlds of Ultramar, humans live their lives freely and beautifully.
.
—galgame line—
You are an idealist, but also a pragmatic and capable Ultramarines. (Is it true that all Ultramarines are like this?)
Q: Where can you find Guilliman
Answer: Her government affairs office.
You stand at her desk, sorting through the various government affairs that are rushing in.
She sat in her office chair, her usual politician-like smile and kind face long gone, staring expressionlessly at the various documents she was busy with.
The sun was about to set over Macragge, and orange light was slowly streaming in through the windows.
Guilliman put down the last document in his hand and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Very good. Recently, the newly reformed government affairs system has come into effect. Today, there are about 26% fewer documents than before."
Indeed, in the past you would work late into the night.
Guilliman blinked, and there was ease and comfort in his sky-blue eyes.
"It's still early, so I might as well go visit my mother."
Guilliman's mother, Lady Euden, was an elegant and gracious lady, and Guilliman inherited her graciousness.
Now, you stand at the kitchen door, standing guard for the mother and daughter in the kitchen.
Whispering continued to come from the other side of the door.
Lady Euden loved baking, and naturally, Guilliman learned the art of baking from her.
When Guilliman was still young, Euden would take Guilliman to knead dough and watch the soft dough slowly rise.
"A new policy is like dough. You need to give it time to ferment."
The wheaty aroma of bread wafts out, and your nose begins to itch.
Guilliman opened the door, holding a plate of chocolate and wheat biscuits.
She took a piece directly and held it to your mouth.
Her fingers flick across your lips.
"Help me see, how is the roast?"
As expected of Guilliman, she always says something that is irresistible.
Beneath the rational appearance lies a passionate soul.
.
[Fourteenth Legion] Mortarion
She is the Grim Reaper from Barbarus.
Dull, dry, messy hair, dull white, lusterless, dry, and frizzy.
He paid no attention to his personal image, with pale skin, sunken cheeks, and chapped corners of his mouth. His lips were even cracked from breathing poisonous gases for a long time.
She was tall but thin, like a scarecrow standing in the distance in a farm field, held in place by only a few twigs.
She didn't like decorations. There was no such thing as decorations on Barbarus, which was a waste of resources.
He always wears plain clothes, sometimes even clothes that have never been dyed.
She sat between her sisters, the silk and gold threads looking out of place in her mourning dress.
Just like herself, the farmer who accidentally entered the dance.
She is a reaper, and she doesn't care whether it is wheat or life under her sickle.
.
—galgame line—
You are Horus. (No)
You are Carastyphon. (No.)
You are Hades. (yes, yes!)
Mortarion silently poked the little man in front of her.
This is a delicate Death Guard figurine with a special mechanical arm marking it as Hades.
After Mortarion looked at Hades speechlessly and asked him why he always left the Death Guard to work in other legions, Hades smiled and gave her a small doll.
(The persistence of the plastic man)
Um.
Mortarion looked at the little doll resentfully.
Obviously her sisters all have their own crushes and have expressed their feelings to each other, but why is she still alone
Hades had been following her from the very beginning, so why is their relationship still like this
She touched her hair with some dissatisfaction, and rolled up a small strand of white hair with her fingers.
The hair that was stained by the poison gas on Barbarus had already become dry and dull, not at all as smooth as her sisters'.
She thought again about the comments she had received from others before.
Although she has conquered a world, she is always regarded as the god of death.
Her sisters are queens, kings, or angels.
Is it really her
Mortarion didn't want to think about it anymore.
She recalled the surprise in Fulgrim's eyes when he first saw her, and Guilliman's veiled advice to her to pay attention to her personal image.
She is also very clean, with no mud marks or blood stains, and she now changes her clothes every day if conditions permit.
She thought again of her sisters, who looked so sparkling.
Sanguinius, Fulgrim, Guilliman.
It seems that Hades is going to the Extreme Warriors this time
Mortarion felt himself becoming angry again.
When she poked the little man in front of her for the seventy-seventh time, the robot servant came over to report that Hades had returned to the team.
"Send him over."
Mortarion spoke in a voice that sounded like a sigh.
Hades stood before Mortarion and felt his hair stand on end again.
What happened to her this time?!
Hades is a guessing game every day.
He tried to look Mortarion in the eye, trying to calm him down, but Mortarion's gaze was too bloody, and he couldn't help himself, so he shifted his gaze and looked at Mortarion's dull long hair.
He still remembered that when he first saw Mortarion and discovered that she was a female Primarch, he almost vomited blood.
Oh my God! Is this not the manifestation of Slaanesh
Then he saw the Primarch, who were all female.
And the kind that comes with a lover.
I feel numb. I feel numb.
Looking at the interaction between the giant Primarch and the Space Marines, Hades said that his eyes were a little blind.
Let it be Slaanesh, he is done with it.
But Hades was still struggling. He had to ensure that Mortarion would not be abducted by Calastyphon, otherwise there would be another big disaster.
But the most urgent task now is to find out why Mortarion is angry and then comfort her again.
Hades, who had never been in love in his previous life, thought, so this is what they were crying out for: Can you never see through your girlfriend's psychology
But the good news is that Mortarion doesn't have a lover, otherwise he would have to watch lovers every day and then go blind.
But when Hades looked at her hair, Mortarion felt himself getting even angrier.
Is it really because she is not good-looking? Is Hades really such a person? Did she misjudge him before
Is she really no match for Guilliman
Mortarion felt herself, deep inside, shrinking back into her corner.
Seeing that Mortarion was in a state of uncertainty, Hades' alarm bells rang.
Shit, why are you angry again?!
Hades began to think back to what he had done before. Hmm. It's normal. There's no problem, right? !
He thought again. Wait, could it be that Mortarion hates Guilliman and that’s why he’s unhappy
As far-fetched as this idea is, it's Mortarion, so it makes sense.
"Well, I shouldn't have been away for so long this time."
"But things in the Extreme Star Region are indeed urgent."
"I was originally summoned by Guilliman, but I saw that I had been away for too long, so I refused and returned immediately."
Guilliman, damned Guilliman!
Aren’t her Extreme cubs enough for her to play with? Why are they trying to steal her offspring?!
Seeing that Mortarion became even angrier, Hades didn't know what landmine he had stepped on.
"Um. Mortarion, are you okay?"
She gave him a look that Hades thought was more like an eye roll.
"not good."
"What's wrong?"
Mortarion hesitated, wondering whether she should reveal herself.
But considering that Hades had destroyed Mortarion's previous favorability, Mortarion now chose the hidden option "Ask in a tactful and subtle way" from the 777 options of "Shut up and let him go".
"What do you think of me?"
Hades answered immediately without hesitation for a second.
Please, if you hesitate for a second, his head will be chopped off!
"You are my most trusted and reliable comrade, a leader I can trust completely. I will accept your command forever."
Mortarion hesitated, and she felt her calm, a good answer, but no other aspect.
"I mean the more personal side."
Big sister, I've given you my life, what's private about this?!
"I'm sorry. What do you mean?"
"Can you give me an example?"
Mortarion was stuck.
After a long while, she slowly spoke.
"Like... like the aspect of Sanguinius and her lover."
ah?!
There was a buzzing sound in Hades' head.
I treat you as a brother, but you want to...?!
It’s over, the favorability has been increased too much!
How come he hadn't realized it before?!
* Callas turned out to be myself.
For the Emperor's sake, beat up Slaanesh and let the Primarch's nature return!!!
Looking at Mortarion opposite him, Hades felt that he could only answer with one option.
The Emperor's Socks!!!
.
[Fifteenth Legion] Magnus
She is the wise woman of Perospero.
The strong and tall body, rosy and plump skin, and a layer of excess flesh under the thin golden armor.
There was a gleam of psychic energy in the wise one eye.
Her long, fluffy, fiery red hair fell down around her face.
The huge gems inlaid on her armor and on her bracelets flashed with different brilliance every time she used her psychic power.
But compared to his appearance, Magnus's inner self is a accumulation of wisdom.
.
You are Custodes Kitten. (No)
You are a very wise, humble and gentle Thousand Son.
Magnus sat on the table, reading a book, with one leg curled up.
She is always like this. When she sees something exciting, she can't sit upright in her chair.
The Perospero wind blew in through the library window, twirling her long, curly red hair.
You followed the list she gave you, carried a stack of books over and placed them at her feet.
"Oh, come and see."
Magnus pulled you into her arms and she pointed to a line in the book, running her long fingers across the dry pages.
The words dance with her passion.
The enthusiastic red-skinned giant wants to share her joy of reading, but you can't quite concentrate.
She exudes a faint scent of book pages, and the arms that are holding you are fleshy, soft, and warm.
No, focus!
But the red-haired Magnus was so absorbed in his reading that he didn’t notice your little distraction.
She couldn't help but recite these words.
[Vanity is perhaps one of the most difficult things for noble people to understand. Others take it for granted, but noble people tend to deny its existence.]
(—Excerpted from Nietzsche’s “On the Beyond of Good and Evil” on the Internet)
Vanity you are silent.
Because you know very well Magnus's own stubbornness.
You wisely chose to keep your mouth shut.
After that, she was so engrossed in her studies that she hugged you for the whole afternoon.
.
[Sixteenth Legion] Horus
She is the best and most favored among them.
Long black curly hair, plump body, and strong limbs.
A kind smile, a friendly attitude, and warm words.
She is noble, but she is also simple; she is glorious, but she is also friendly.
She was Horus of the Imperium, their loyal Warmaster.
.
—galgame line—
You are the Emperor. (No)
You are Sanguinius. (No.)
You are a loyal and capable Luna Wolf, a member of her small council.
Horus is back, and after getting rid of the cheers, congratulations, or ridicule of the crowd, she finds you. The smile that had always been on her face has disappeared, replaced by fatigue and a bitter smile.
You blinked but still said the congratulations you had prepared.
"Congratulations, the Emperor finally chose you."
Horus smiled bitterly.
"I didn't expect you to be like this."
"No, I'm just doing my routine."
You quickly changed your tone.
She rubbed her head and wanted to take off the olive crown on her head, but decided not to do so.
"I know that my father can only choose me."
“But can I really handle all of this?”
You speak,
"Trust the Emperor. He trusts you. You are his best choice."
She smiled and took off her corset, leaving some red marks on her fleshy skin.
Then she came forward and hugged you.
"So what should you do?"
"My Lord Warmaster, I pledge my loyalty to you."
However, afterwards, you regretted it.
You look at her, and she raises the banner of rebellion against Terra.
.
[Seventeenth Legion] Lorja
She is the Saint of Colchis.
Shunliang's long white hair slowly fell to the ground.
The golden prayers gleamed against her skin.
Her eyes were holy gold, pure, sacred, and fanatical.
She converted to her faith and knelt devoutly before her God.
White and gold symbolize her purity, and she always wears robes of these two colors.
"Praise the Emperor."
The saint firmly believed in her faith.
.
—galgame line—
You are the Emperor. (No)
You are a mortal priest with whom Lorgar had a good relationship before. During the incident in the Perfect City, you did not choose to leave and survived, even though this caused you to become blind.
“Father, what did we do wrong?”
You felt the soft hair falling on your face, and she held your arms tightly, trembling.
She seems to be kneeling in front of you.
You don’t know, you can’t see.
"This is... this is something we have to accept."
"God sends down punishment to question our piety."
"No, no."
You feel Lorgar trembling even more.
"We are His descendants. Why does He punish His descendants?"
You are silent.
In Luojia's eyes, she was a saint, not a believer waiting to be questioned.
Punishment will only come to believers who need to be tested.
She doesn't need to be punished, she doesn't need to be tested, she is loyal.
"God, why did you abandon us first?"
She hugged you tight and you felt liquid flowing down.
She cried.
.
[Eighteenth Legion] Vulkan
She is the best blacksmith on Nocturne.
Fiery white curly hair, coal-black skin, and strong, distinct muscles.
She loved to raise her hammer and beat the steel in the flames.
The steel that survives the flames will be the best steel.
Countless scars were carved on her body like dragon scales, and the raging fire reflected them, making them sparkle.
kindness.
She is the most merciful being.
She disliked war, but the Emperor convinced her that it was a necessary evil for future peace.
When the last war was over, she returned home to work as a blacksmith.
She didn't like those golden crowns.
She is a blacksmith, she always has been.
.
—galgame line—
You are Finus. (No)
You are the one introduced to Vulkan by her Nocturne father, and you are also the second best blacksmith in your area.
In the forge, flames were burning and heavy hammers were hitting steel violently.
She was topless and started hitting with the hammer!
You are at another forging table, concentrating on your work.
"look!"
She called you and showed you the heavy sword she had made.
A huge orange-red cat's eye stone is inlaid in it, shining beautifully under the illumination of the flame.
"This is my gift to Horus."
She always did, loved giving her sisters homemade weapons.
“Pretty perfect.”
You commented.
She smiled sheepishly.
"Thank you."
She patted you like she always does.
But she was not wearing a top.
.
[19th Legion] Corakos
She is the people’s choice.
The long black hair is like ink, and under the black shadow is a pale face.
Beneath the tall and scary appearance, there is a heart of kindness and equality.
For the people, for the empire.
She will be the crow that announces the death of her enemies.
.
—galgame line—
You are Robouti Guilliman. (No)
You were her good companion on Redemption, very reasonable, and eventually became a member of the Raven Guard.
She came back and sat there thoughtfully.
"What's wrong?"
You ask her, could it be that the meeting with her sister didn't go well
"No"
Corakos shook his head.
Robert Guilliman was very friendly, a seasoned politician who knew how to handle things, but he also gave her his true heart.
Although those Macragge decorations are too fancy and exaggerated.
But these were not what troubled her.
She learned a new word from her sisters—"those mortals."
What a strange and arrogant name, is this how they view the people
Then what is she in the eyes of those "so-called mortals"
"I want to know what you think of me."
“My existence.”
She added.
You blinked, what happened
"You are Corakos, the one who led us to overthrow oppression, the leader we elected."
"You mean, I was chosen from among you?"
You feel a little ridiculous, isn't this reality, what happened to Corakos today
"Yes, you came out from among us."
Wait, you seem to realize something, so you speak up quickly to make up for it.
"Of course, you are the one I love."
Korakos was startled by the sudden confession.
"That's not what I meant."
She shook her head and laughed, but still gave you a kiss.
.
[Twentieth Legion]
Forgive me, I can't write the Afa Twins.
.
[Hidden Figure] Emperor
He has many faces.
He can be an old man, or he can be a young child.
He can be male or female.
He is humanity.
He loves humanity.
.
—galgame line—
There is no such line, unless you are Slaanesh.
Why write online articles? Writing these mindless love articles is no better than writing novels!
This world needs more Sese!
Happy reading~(￣▽￣～)~
(End of this chapter)