The Emperor's Angels

"My lord, why have you summoned me?"

Sicarius entered, looking at the seated Guilliman with confusion.

Guilliman rose to his feet, his armor producing a beautiful sound with the movement.

He wore the armor that had brought him back from death at all times.

This suit of armor was more than a creation of the Adeptus Mechanicus. It contained a trace of Ynnead's power, and it was that power which had healed the wounds in Guilliman's soul, allowing him to return to life.

In the duel on Thessala, Guilliman had been viciously stabbed by the traitorous Primarch Fulgrim. The blow had pierced his neck and left him dormant for over ten thousand years.

That injury was more than a wound to the flesh. It was also a wound upon his soul.

Otherwise, even tearing out a Primarch's heart would not immediately kill him.

The slain Primarch Ferrus had also died because Fulgrim used a weapon imbued with the power of Chaos. Otherwise, he could never have killed a Primarch.

So far, Guilliman had no means of freeing himself from this armor. Perhaps when his Cheat Database unlocked its second level, he would find a solution.

"The Astropaths have received a message. The Sara System is under siege by Plague Warriors and needs assistance. I have analyzed the information. This system lies on our route, so I have decided that Macragge's Honour will lead part of the fleet to resolve the problem there. I need you to assemble the warriors so that we can form a fighting force the moment we emerge from the Warp. We must move as quickly as possible. Once the Sara System has been cleared, we will rejoin the fleet and proceed to the industrial system—Konor."

Sicarius hesitated for a moment before speaking cautiously. "You do not need to handle this personally. Leave it to Captain Phicris. He will do an excellent job. You should not involve yourself in the battlefield. We cannot bear the risk of losing you."

"No. I cannot make a decision, send others to fight for it, and hide behind them myself. Besides, the fleet will eventually have to split up to aid different systems. I am a Primarch. The Imperium needs me to win, and the people of the Imperium need me to win. This matter is decided, Sicarius. Go make preparations."

Guilliman's tone became grave and unquestionable.

Going to the Sara System to eliminate the Plague Warriors was not only to reassure the populace. Guilliman had his own calculations as well.

The Lord of Dominion Template could turn the faith of Imperial citizens in him into power. The greater his fame and the more brilliant his victories, the more the people of the Imperium would trust him.

It was like stacking buffs in the Gorge's killing book—keep piling them up until, in the end, he could kill whoever stood in his way, man or Buddha alike.

Guilliman had always been clear about who his enemies were: the Chaos Gods.

If he lived, the Chaos Gods died.

If he died, the Chaos Gods lived.

The opposition between the two sides was as irreconcilable as fire and water, sharp beyond measure, with no possibility of compromise or reconciliation.

One side had to fall for this war to end.

Guilliman had to seize every opportunity to raise his prestige and make himself known, so that the people of the Imperium would firmly believe that he, the Thirteenth Son of the Emperor and Lord of Ultramar, was the light of salvation.

Hearing Guilliman's resolute, unquestionable words, Sicarius could only agree.

He lowered his head, bowed, then turned and strode out to gather the warriors aboard Macragge's Honour and prepare them for battle, striving to clear the Sara System as quickly as possible.

Guilliman would take a fleet of his own to save the Sara System.

The other fleets would be commanded by different heroes.

Gathering such an enormous number of warships together was certainly powerful.

But it would not allow them to achieve victory quickly and restore peace to Ultramar.

The fleets had to split up. Celestine, Amalrich, and other Imperial heroes would each lead a fleet to rescue the systems trapped in the claws of Chaos.

The final destination of all these fleets was the industrial system of Konor, at the outermost edge of the Ultramar Sector and closest to the edge of Imperial territory.

The Imperial heroes would travel to the Konor System by different routes, saving the systems that needed aid along the way.

Once all the fleets arrived in the Konor System, the campaign against Chaos within the Ultramar Sector would essentially be settled. Afterward, they could spread outward into the Imperium's other sectors.

Saint Celestine, Inquisitor Grey, and the other Imperial heroes had all opposed the Primarch personally entering the battlefield, fearing they would lose him as they had ten thousand years ago. Yet Guilliman still persuaded them, and they each departed with their fleets to fulfill their missions and save those trapped in suffering.

On the bridge of Macragge's Honour.

The Servitors connected to the central control hub began to tremble. Their shaking was so violent that the neural cables linked to their cerebral cortexes also quivered.

The Servitors delivered their reports in unison.

"Coordinate data detected: Sara System."

The captain, equipped with mechanical arms, scrutinized the numerous data windows before him through his electronic Bionic Eye and shouted, "Enter realspace."

The data officer, power officer, and Intelligence Officer updated and shared data at the fastest speed their mechanical components allowed, enabling them to better control the colossal vessel.

"Realspace coordinate data analysis complete."

"Energy conduits are being converted. Attempting to open a realspace passage."

"Power systems remain stable."

Amid a succession of rapid reports, the twenty-six-kilometer-long Macragge's Honour burst from the Warp. Warships from other Chapters followed close behind, fighting alongside Guilliman.

A vast torrent of information flooded the bridge, while data was rapidly shared between the warships.

The Auspex emitted a piercing shriek, and the Logis Engine clattered as it operated at high speed.

"Alert. Chaos vessels detected."

"Alert. Chaos vessels detected."

The reporting Servitors linked to the Auspex through neural cables twitched as the brass vox-casters built into their throats rapidly broadcast information on the enemy.

"Convert the Geller Field into Void Shields. All hands, prepare for battle. Fire at will. Wipe out these damned traitors and show them what we are capable of!" The captain gripped the railing before him and roared.

Sara Planet.

Grix Hive.

This ancient colossal Hive City had already mostly fallen under the fierce assault of the Plague Warriors.

The surviving civilians had been evacuated into the enormous Astropathic Fortress. Its Void Shields were still functioning normally, their final refuge.

The thunderous barrage continued without pause. The remnants of the planetary defense force relied on the Hive City's last fortress to snipe at the Plague Warriors, trying to halt their advance.

The zombies created by the plague were gradually devouring the defenders' positions. The shadow of death pressed closer step by step, plunging them further into despair.

Inside the fortress, civilians with pained expressions huddled together, trying to draw from one another's warmth a sliver of spiritual strength to keep living in this dark world of despair.

All able-bodied men and women had already been sent to the battlefield. They became corpses, fell upon the field, then rose again as Plague Zombies.

An elderly woman held two children in her arms. Their innocent eyes were filled with fear and unease, and the indescribable sorrow within their gaze was heartbreaking.

At an age that should have been carefree and innocent, they had already learned the pain between life and death.

They had been born in the Dark Age. Everywhere they looked, there was only despair and suffering.

Their peaceful lives had been completely shattered several months earlier. The children watched their father pick up a gun and follow the soldiers to the battlefield.

They watched their mother get seized by Plague Zombies and cry out in agony for them to run. They watched as the Plague Zombies tore her apart completely.

"Grandma, don't you always say the Emperor will protect us? Why hasn't he sent his Angels to save us? Why didn't he save Papa and Mama either?" The trembling girl looked at the Ecclesiarchy followers praying in the distance, then turned to the old woman holding her and asked in a childish voice.

The old woman looked at the girl, doing her best to suppress the fear in her heart. She forced a gentle smile and pulled her tightly into her embrace with her withered, skeletal arms.

"Grandma doesn't know either. Maybe the Emperor's Angels are too busy."

Second update. I wanted to post earlier, but I was too tired and fell asleep.