Alexander pulled out an arm-length mirror from his four-dimensional pocket.
The back of the mirror was made of orange all-metal, fitted with a series of buttons.
"Ta-da! Tracking Image Mirror!"
Alexander held up the mirror, displaying it to Sanguinius and Guilliman in the room.
[Item Name: Tracking Image Mirror]
[Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store]
[Manufacturing Date: 261.M3]
[Function: An item that looks like a mirror. After pressing a button while pointing it at a person or object, it will continuously reflect the scenes and sounds experienced by that person or object. It also has additional functions like replay, adjusting size, sound, and playback speed.]
It was a simple item with a reasonable price, yet extremely practical.
Once selected by this mirror, all subsequent events experienced would be recorded, and could even be viewed from different directions and angles.
Furthermore, this form of surveillance was almost impossible to stop, unless the Tracking Image Mirror itself was directly destroyed by the observed party.
Even before resurrecting Guilliman, Alexander had used this item on Sylandri Shadowseer.
Even without the Lockheart Scarab, her whereabouts could not escape Alexander's eyes.
Alexander flicked a button on the back of the mirror, and Sylandri Shadowseer's figure appeared on the mirror.
In the mirror, Sylandri Shadowseer looked around the Black Library with an embarrassed expression, then looked up at Cegorach floating in mid-air, giving him an awkward, goofy smile.
"Hehehe, uh, Boss Cegorach."
"Everything I said was to deceive the "Human God of Death." Even though you kept reading without replying, I always believed that the great Laughing God would not abandon his children."
"Of course, even if you did abandon me, it wouldn't matter. The Laughing God's kindness is endless, and you are the only sun in my heart!"
"Shut up." Cegorach pinched his chin and floated from one side of the Black Library to the other, waving his hand to interrupt Sylandri Shadowseer: "I'm thinking!"
"Is this the last relatively complete and sane god of the Eldar, the Laughing God Cegorach?"
Guilliman, wrapped in a blanket, asked from beside Alexander.
Cegorach's figure was reflected in the mirror; he looked like a comical and abstract Harlequin.
His pale, powdered face was covered with comical wrinkles and makeup, his mouth split wide in a long grin, revealing a series of sharp teeth, and his aquiline nose pierced his forehead, combining with his sharp chin to form a bizarre crescent moon.
He wore a robe-like comical Harlequin suit, but his lower body seemed to be composed of flowing colored ink, appearing both real and ethereal.
Even through the mirror, Guilliman could sense that this so-called Laughing God indeed had something unique about him; a single glance inexplicably brought forth a desire to laugh.
"This is the Eldar's racial god," Guilliman murmured to himself.
He had once disbelieved in the existence of gods and ghosts, believing the world to be purely material, but everything he experienced during the Horus Heresy reshaped his understanding.
Although Guilliman was still unwilling to believe in so-called faith, there were indeed phantom-like existences in the galaxy: daemons, gods, and even living saints all existed.
This also led his rational mind to a question.
"Where is humanity's racial god?" Guilliman asked, puzzled.
The Eldar had the Pantheon, and the Orks had Gork and Mork; there was no reason for there not to be a god exclusive to the human race, right?
After all, human history also contained many myths and legends. It was not impossible for some of them to be real.
Alexander and Sanguinius exchanged glances, then looked at Guilliman with strange expressions, as if asking him with their eyes if he knew what he was saying.
"What's wrong?" Guilliman asked, frowning.
Alexander opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but after a moment of hesitation, only managed to blurt out: "That blanket is really nice."
Guilliman was wrapped in the blanket to ward off the cold, the ice shards on his face slowly melting.
Alexander remembered seeing this blanket in the reliquary; it was one of the items Guilliman hoped Alexander wouldn't sell.
"Oh, this is a relic of my mother Lady Euten. She wove it for me once," Guilliman said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
"…" Sanguinius' expression twisted slightly: "This is what my brothers often referred to as: Roboute Guilliman's unconscious sense of superiority."
Guilliman was slightly confused.
"Let's hurry and find the location of the Black Library," Alexander interrupted their conversation with a twitching expression, refocusing his gaze on the mirror.
He adjusted the mirror, rewinding the images until the scene of Sylandri Shadowseer's initial escape appeared on the mirror.
"What's with these extra pieces of flesh? Are you sure it's okay?"
In the mirror, Sylandri Shadowseer asked the Haemonculus in terror.
In her intense pain, she only noticed the extra flesh, but Alexander and the others noticed that the Haemonculus was missing a limb and two scissors after the surgery.
Subsequently, Sylandri Shadowseer was carried by the Harlequins to the Ilium region on Macragge, where she entered the Webway through one of its Webway Gates.
"There's a Webway Gate on Macragge?" Guilliman frowned deeply.
"Ilium again," Sanguinius sighed, "I wish I had listened to Lion back then."
Konrad Curze had caused trouble in that region back then.
Upon hearing this, Guilliman sharply turned his head.
"Lion's suggestion was to orbital bombard the entire Ilium! This is Macragge, my home world and birthplace!"
"Why doesn't he bombard his Caliban?"
There was a deathly silence in the air, Sanguinius and Alexander both stared silently at Guilliman.
"He really blew it up himself?" Guilliman quickly realized what their silence meant, and he was startled.
Guilliman and Sanguinius tacitly stopped discussing the topic.
They both followed Alexander in watching Sylandri Shadowseer and the Harlequins' route through the Webway.
The two Primarchs, using their extraordinary skills, quickly mapped out the route to the Black Library from the Webway near Macragge.
*********
Cegorach paced in the air of the Black Library.
He was conflicted, pondering.
Doraemon, or rather Alexander, possessed a certain ability that allowed Eldar souls, after death, not to fall to Slaanesh, but to be reborn in another time and space.
That time-space was called the "22nd century," a future world without the Warp, seemingly existing only in the fantasies of humans who had not yet left Terra.
Cegorach did not know where that world came from, or why it existed, but its purpose was undeniable.
This was another opportunity, an opportunity to save the Eldar.
And unlike Ynnead, Cegorach was always wary of his brother who had not yet fully awakened.
He was, after all, the God of Death, who was supposed to be born from the death of all Eldar, but had now partially awakened.
Ynnead was so cold, gloomy, and dull; Cegorach truly couldn't bring himself to like him.
On the other hand, this human deity, Doraemon, was much to Cegorach's liking.
However, deep within Cegorach's heart, besides the desire to save the Eldar, there was another craving.
Revenge.
After the fall of the Eldar, the Laughing God laughed as always, but only the Harlequins and he himself knew the pain and struggle within his heart.
But he was just a Harlequin, a god of laughter, a god of art, a god of trickery and deceit.
Even Asuryan could not defeat the God of Thirst, even Bloody Handed Khaine was shattered; what could he, a Harlequin who could only flee in panic, do?
Slaanesh was not an idiot like the Outsiders.
So Cegorach year after year, day after day, began to weave schemes and conspiracies. He wanted to pull off a big one, an ultimate joke, an act of revenge against Slaanesh.
And Ynnead stood with him on this point; Ynnead and Slaanesh's positions were inherently antagonistic.
Alexander, however, was different. Slaanesh seemed to have a good impression of Alexander and tried to win him over.
Alexander rejected Slaanesh's overtures, but it was clear that their relationship hadn't soured. Slaanesh seemed to hope to use Alexander to suppress Ynnead.
Furthermore, Cegorach also knew that Ynnead seemed to view Alexander as a competitor for his position.
In the matter of Guilliman's resurrection, Ynnead had initiated a traditional Eldar backstab.
Clearly, Cegorach had to choose between Alexander and Ynnead.
"This kind of crap should be left to Morai-Heg to predict the future. That's the job of that old hag god!"
"It shouldn't be left to me, a Harlequin, to do! Damn it!"
"Oh, damn it, I forgot you all really are dead. F8ck!"
Cegorach angrily waved his fists.
"I always thought the Laughing God was eternally joyful; I didn't expect him to get angry?" A voice suddenly rang out, questioning the Laughing God.
"If you remembered that basically your entire family is dead, one of the survivors is both foolish and has a split personality, another is kept by a fat man covered in rot, one is half-born and incomplete, and all your children are sex addicts and lunatics, and you have to bear all the family's debts alone, you'd get angry too!"
Cegorach said without thinking, letting out a series of squawking noises.
Then he quickly realized something was wrong; this voice was clearly not his Harlequin. He hurriedly lowered his head to look.
He saw a pinkish-red wooden door appear beside the trembling Sylandri Shadowseer.
Alexander and Sanguinius walked out of the wooden door.
"Greetings to you, Laughing God Cegorach, the fourth greatest trickster in the galaxy, current Lord of the Eldar Pantheon, Chief God, King of the Divine Pantheon."
Alexander bowed slightly to Cegorach, a brilliant smile on his lips:
"Although the Pantheon now has only one god left, and he's a Chief God without followers, and the divine pantheon has only one page left."
"But your greatness and glory need no further words, as immortal as the Eldar Imperium."