Holy Terra.
The atmosphere.
Ron, Guilliman, the other Primarchs, and the Empire's elite forces rode aboard the Dark Gold Aircraft, slowly flying toward the Himalazian Mountains where the Imperial Palace was located.
A violent, twisting storm of Fel Energy howled, battering the shielding field around the aircraft.
The immense pressure made the aircraft's entire power system unstable, and the lights flickered between bright and dim.
Everyone could hear the roaring of remnant souls within the storm. Even those eerie things were afraid.
"The Dark King destroyed the Throne World. I hope Father can hold on until the end—"
Guilliman looked at the land covered in darkness, utterly twisted and cracked, as well as the shattered Himalazian Mountains, his brows locked tight.
He was deeply worried, and a few more wrinkles had appeared on his face.
Sanguinius and the other Primarchs looked at the completely unfamiliar mountain range and the remnants of the Imperial Palace, but none of them spoke.
Terra was humanity's cradle, and this palace was an even more sacred symbol of mankind, the Empire's final bastion palace.
They had all once believed that even if humanity faced extinction, this palace would be the last place to fall.
But now, the Black Calamity had erupted from within the Imperial Palace itself, corrupting Terra and spreading across the entire Galaxy and the Warp.
The place that had once been most sacred had become the source of disaster, while The Emperor whom people believed in, the Master of Mankind, had also become the source of humanity's destruction.
How tragic was that?
Facing the bloody wind blowing toward him, Ron actually felt somewhat fortunate. "Sigh, this place is basically ruined.
"Good thing I transferred Terra's governmental system and administrative officials to the new capital ahead of time. Otherwise, this would have been