Guilliman and the other commanders saw The Emperor still standing firm on the platform, his body not even swaying.
It was as though that terrifying malice and pressure did not exist. He looked utterly at ease.
"Primordial Destruction, you cannot intimidate us. This alone will never make humanity submit."
The Emperor stared at the Chaos Sun without a trace of fear. He did not retreat, but faced Primordial Destruction head-on.
Hum!
Behind him, the Holy Sun blazed brighter, illuminating one warship after another until its light covered the entire Secret Crusade Fleet.
Guilliman and the other commanders felt the pressure on their bodies ease. The unbearable weight vanished, and the burning sunlight drove away their fear and cold.
They gulped down air like fish returned to water after being stranded ashore, as though born anew.
"Father!" Guilliman cried, his voice trembling with excitement.
All this time, he had feared The Emperor could not stand against Primordial Destruction. He had feared they had no way to defeat that evil, and that all their efforts would come to nothing.
But now he could finally set those fears aside.
The Emperor—his father—could contend with Primordial Destruction without losing ground.
That meant that even if the worst came to pass, they still had a chance to stop it without The Savior!
Every warrior in the Secret Crusade Fleet saw The Emperor, and their spirits soared.
Under Primordial Destruction's pressure, they had endured the most terrifying experience of their lives. Their resolve had worn away, and even their hope had begun to die.
If they could not even stand before Primordial Destruction, how could they defeat it?
Worse, the mightiest Savior in the world had nearly been swallowed whole by Primordial Destruction. He might never be able to save them again.
Even the hulking Orks