"I returned to the Empire forty-five years after the Great Expedition began."

"In the beginning, I spent three years studying in the Shadowmoon Legion, learning the necessary knowledge and ways to live in this empire: Horus was a good teacher, I got along well with his warriors, and during those three years, I was more like a member of the Shadowmoon Legion, not an outsider who lived in their legion, and it wasn't until three years later that I was reunited with my children."

[Sounds like a euphoric experience, St. Giles.] 】

"That's true: I think we can agree on this, don't we?"

When St. Giles lowered his head, he blinked, and he exuded an amber charm: Morgan was standing beside him, about half a body behind, and there was some strange contrast between her and St. Giles, and the huge wings of the famous empire alone were enough to envelop the Lord of Avalon in his entirety.

If St. Giles wanted to, he seemed to be able to hide Morgan, and if Morgan could cooperate with him, this hiding would not even be discovered by any of the brothers, even if they walked in front of the crowd.

"I am the tenth Primordial to return, Magnus in front of me and Johnson behind me, and we are about three years apart: during that time, the brothers appeared one after another, were recovered, and joined the Empire and the Great Expedition like heroes in the Great Expedition."

"I remember very well now, Fogrem was the fifth brother to return, when he came to the Empire, the entire Third Legion was on the verge of destruction, he used his nobility and charm to complete an almost impossible miracle of Nirvana, and when I returned, the Legion of the Emperor's Son was already the benchmark of the Empire."

[The phoenix of Chemos, whom I met when I was in the Nostramo Star Sector, is impressive for his grace and pride: you know, St. Giles, pride is not a pejorative term here. 】

"Pride is never a pejorative term, arrogance is, but in between, there is only a thin red line: those who can see the red line are proud, and vice versa."

[You saw it early?] 】

Morgan had a smile on her face that was pleasant, like a sister who would make her brother proud.

"No, I'm not even going to go any closer."

The smile on St. Giles' face was just as perfect, so perfect that even Morgan couldn't find fault with anything more.

"I'm an angel after all, and I have such huge wings: as you can see, they're an impressive burden even to me, not to mention a slender red thread that it can't carry."

[Perhaps you can tie this red thread to your body, and name what is pride and what is arrogance: many will be happy to see it, my brother St. Giles.] 】

"Isn't there enough on my wings now?"

The archangel smiled and asked, his wings moving just right, and the countless golden coats of arms and chains dotted on them began to tinkle like a symphony.

"They're so heavy that sometimes I even feel like I'm as strong as our Peturabo."

[After all, Perturabo is draped in countless steels. 】

"You're trying to say he's actually light?"

[Nope.] 】

[The steel that he put in his heart is heavier. 】

“……”

A relaxed and tacit smile spread between the two genetic primitives, and the two equally perfect faces were dotted with the same joy and sincerity, if anyone could witness this scene at this moment, he would definitely not doubt the depth of the relationship between the two brothers and sisters, and it must be the love that has been going hand in hand for decades.

So, in the next moment, the two siblings, who had only met for less than five minutes, stopped laughing in unison, their smiles still on their faces, and their hearts were spinning at a rapid pace, thinking of more ways to make the conversation go their way.

In the same way, it was St. Giles who spoke first: in a short period of time, Morgan didn't seem to have the intention of seizing the dominance of the discourse, she just narrowed her eyes, carefully receiving and analyzing every word of St. Giles.

The archangel turned, and he headed in a direction that Morgan hadn't been, about a position ahead, and the Lord of Avalon could only see the white wings dangling in front of her.

The angel's voice is still pleasant.

"Perturabo is the twelfth brother to return, and his actions since his return have caused some controversy in the Empire, but no one can deny that he is the best hunter that the Empire can choose in the face of those stubborn fortresses, and he has built a reputation for ruthlessness with the bravery and blood of his heirs."

[You don't seem to approve of Peturabo's behavior?] 】

“……”

"What about you?"

St. Giles did not answer, he turned his head to look at Morgan, his eyes like a torch.

The Lord of Avalon was silent for a moment, and she didn't answer directly, but with an attitude of indifference, her tone was relaxed.

[Ruthless is not useless: it's just that I don't need them.] 】

“……”

"Me too."

The archangel smiled: it was a real smile, and he turned away, thoughtful.

"And between these two brothers, there is only a short gap of twenty years: in these twenty and Terra standard years, eight genetic prototypes have returned to the Empire, and on average, every two to three years, our genetic father will find one of his heirs in the galaxy, and then, there will be another Astarte Legion, welcoming their own genetic father."

"Of course, your legion is different: they're welcoming back the Mother of Genes."

Are you surprised by this? 】

"There are some, but not many: at least when Peturabo returned, I never thought I would have a blood sister, and at that time, no one would have that idea."

[But reality does happen.] 】

"Of course: after all, that was the idea of forty years ago, and it always has to change."

【……】

"Time flies, doesn't it?"

The archangel seemed to sigh.

"In the blink of an eye, it seems that all the brothers are already coming back, the seats are not vacant, and every vacant seat in the square will also be welcomed by its own master: If I remember correctly, Morgan, you are the sixteenth, right?"

As St. Giles gathered her wings, let her long bright blonde hair brush through her copper-gold armor, and focused her gaze on Morgan's face, the Lord of Avalon could feel a hot and humid breeze blowing in her face: the most perfect work of art in the world stood before her eyes, and St. Giles radiated light, so that all the crystal creations in this room seemed as contemptible as dull stones.

Morgan could feel her smile: the muscles at the corners of her mouth tensed, confined her smile to a manageable confinement to make sure it didn't reveal what was on her mind.

[Yes, St. Giles, I remember that I was the sixteenth, and in front of me was the Chagatai Khan, the commander of the Fifth Legion. 】

"But it's not such a rigorous ranking, my sister."

St. Giles smiled, his voice soft, as if two fine sheets of rice paper were rubbing against each other, with a terrifying hoarse tenderness.

"After all, if my memory is not wrong, you were already in the service of the Empire long ago: when I checked the information about you, the earliest record I could find was about the rescue operation of Li Xingxing, and at that time, neither Luo Jia nor Chagatai had returned."

"So: you may be the fourteenth."

[Fourteen?] 】

Morgan's brow furrowed slightly, and she chewed on the number slowly, not hiding her disgust at it.

[I rarely hate a number: but fourteen is an exception.] 】

"Is it because of one of our brothers?"

The angel didn't seem surprised, he seemed to be deliberately leading the conversation here.

In St. Giles's pupils, a trace of sly light quietly crossed through, and the last trace of seriousness in his eyebrows and eyes was completely diluted.

Morgan also replied to her archangel brother with a smile, and she answered very calmly, after all, she did not feel that the bad relationship between her and Mortari was a secret that needed to be hidden.

[You know, brother, I'm a more introverted and passive person: I wouldn't mind being friends with Motarian if he was happy to get along with me, but it's clear that the one who is more paranoid on this issue is not me.] 】

"It's not surprising, Morgan: Mottari has always been a tough man, and like the name of his Glory Queen, he has his own perception and worldview, and he has always been proud of it, and no one can make him tolerate it even a little."

[Even Horus? 】

“…… Horus is different. ”

"But Horus can't change him either."

When St. Giles looked at the darkness that could not be illuminated by the light of crystals, and sighed gloomily in it, his voice sounded suspiciously sincere.

"I've seen what Motarian did."

"It's hard to accept, but it's hard to refute."

【……】

Morgan was silent, she continued to deduce in her mind the purpose of St. Giles' visit to her, but she could not grasp the point that had been looming all along: at the beginning, the archangel's seriousness and heroism made the Lord of Avalon mistakenly think that he was going to have an unusually serious conversation.

But almost in the next second, St. Giles dismissed these terrifying momentum of his own accord and became radiant: the Bar Archangel was now more like a kind brother, a perfect idol that radiated a warm light.

But this put Morgan in an even more bewildered position: in hindsight, the Lord of Avalon would rather St. Giles be harsh, because then his demands would be clear and straightforward at the very least.

But now, the St. Giles standing in front of her, the St. Giles who was gently discussing the Great Expedition and the Primordial Body, was just a source of confusion for Morgan, who was not sure what the Archangel was looking for her for: this sense of powerlessness that could not lead the conversation made Morgan feel deeply disgusted.

And just as she frowned, the angel's words had turned back to her.

"Actually, you and I have similarities on this issue, Morgan."

[Similarities? 】

When the archangel paused as he walked, turned around, and smiled at Morgan, Morgan behind him could clearly feel the white wings brushing in front of her, taking away the speed of breathing: the Lord of Avalon had almost used part of his determination to stop the thought of plucking one of the feathers off and taking a closer look.

And St. Giles didn't seem to be aware of this: the wings on his back were subconsciously pulled back.

His words continued, with no special ups and downs in his brisk tone.

"Just as you don't like the number fourteen right now, I don't really like the number ten, or rather, I don't hate the number ten, I just feel a little regretful: if I had been found by our genetic father two years earlier, maybe I could have said that I was the ninth returning genetic protologist."

[Is there any reason for this?] 】

"It's just a little psychological: if the genetic prototype of the ninth return is the genetic prototype of the Ninth Legion, then this coincidence will inevitably make people feel happy, although it has no actual effect, but in my heart, I still prefer this arrangement."

Barr uttered the emotionless words with a smile on his face, and as he began to move towards Morgan, the wings behind him brushed over the crystal creations at his side, leaving a divine aura of the original gene on the colorless priceless treasures.

Morgan's silent gaze followed the wings, and for a moment rested on the crystal statue: it was only now that the Lord of Avalon realized where St. Giles had taken her.

Before they knew it, they had advanced some distance through the room, past countless statues, and now, two genetic agents were docked next to a twin statue.

The statue is made up of two parts, and Morgan's vast knowledge of history makes it easy for her to recognize the characters represented by the two parts: Abel and Cain, the first two brothers, and the two fratricidal brothers.

【……】

At the sight of the statue, the Lord of Avalon's mind was momentarily stunned, very briefly, but enough for her to accept the words and inquiries from St. Giles with unmistakable clarity.

"But now, it's different, isn't it?"

The words of the archangel sounded like some kind of poisonous nectar, sweet and heartwarming.

"You and I both know that the Empire's copywriting is undergoing a massive redaction, including information about us, and although I am the tenth returning Primordial, now, if I want to, I can also be the ninth Returning Primordial, because a certain Primordial before me will never be mentioned by any of us again."

"He's gone."

The words of the archangel are swift and capable, so that people cannot interject at all, like a truth that has been passed down in the world, obviously a standard hint, but it is dignified, and people cannot have any dark thoughts.

The archangel's hint was not subtle, and almost as soon as she heard it, Morgan understood the meaning, and just as she used the smile on her face as a shield, temporarily resisting the angel's words, thinking about how she should answer the inquiry, St. Giles took a step further.

He was so close, so close that when he began to breathe, the bangs on Morgan's forehead fluttered slightly.

"So do you, Morgan."

"At this point, you and I are both the same: if you want. You can also no longer be the sixteenth, no longer the fourteenth, but a little further back. ”

"The thirteenth."

【……】

"Tell me, Morgan."

The angel whispered in her ear.

"Do you like the number thirteen?"

Today's state is very poor, to put it simply, I wrote 6,000 words in the afternoon, but I found that these 6,000 words are not suitable for this place, so they became wasted manuscripts (covering my face)

(The 6,000 words explain why St. Giles came here, and the plot does not advance at all)

Then I immediately got out of the car and blew the hot air all the way to the point that it hurt my brain, and now I'm rolling around in bed, barely writing this one, to see if I can make up more tomorrow.

Yes...... St. Giles is so hard to write.

If there is a typo, refresh it.,The second half of the part I dictated.,I didn't have time to change it.

(End of chapter)