The Plague Fleet's fearless resolve to fight the Imperium to the bitter end could not change its fate of impending defeat.
With a Primarch commanding the Imperial fleet, morale had been greatly boosted. The Imperial commanders did everything in their power to avoid making even the slightest mistake, lest they lose their chance to earn the Primarch's notice.
With morale high and more warships than the Plague Fleet, the Imperial fleet held every advantage. It would have been difficult to lose even if it wanted to.
The Chaos fleet showed no inclination to cooperate either. Not long after the battle began, the Imperium split it apart, forcing its ships to fight separately.
"Maintain course. Destroy their flagship and claim victory." Guilliman watched the tactical projection of the Plague Fleet. Among its vessels was a massive battleship covered in filth and sprouting nauseating flesh, countless malevolent eyes staring out across the battlefield.
That ship had been completely corrupted by the Warp. The flesh and filth upon it were proof enough.
"Concentrate all power on the forward Void Shields. Battle Groups One and Two, cease pursuit and encircle the Plague Fleet from the flanks. Lock onto and prioritize the enemy flagship. Load all Macro-cannons, raise Lance output to maximum, and fire the Prow Cannons forward."
At Guilliman's command, the bridge of Macragge's Honour became exceptionally busy. Technicians, officers, and Tech-priests all sprang into motion, carrying out the Primarch's orders without compromise.
The lower decks of Macragge's Honour were even busier.
Junior officers shouted curses at the crewmen, occasionally drawing whips or kicking those whose pace displeased them.
Thunderous giant cranes loaded shells, raised by elevators to the gunnery decks, into the Macro-cannons.
Tech-priests maintained the complex energy conduits and secondary Cogitator systems, chanting prayers to the Omnissiah in binary and begging the sacred Machine Spirit to keep the warship functioning.
Following Guilliman's command, the entire Imperial fleet accelerated into its final assault against the Plague Fleet.
Guilliman ignored everything else and focused on the enemy flagship, searching for weaknesses in its Void Shields.
A battleship could stretch ten to twenty kilometers long, easily reducing an undefended world to ashes.
Beyond carrying greater amounts of cargo, such immense hulls could also employ thicker, more stable Void Shields.
The core sections of a battleship were hidden deep within, protected by layers of Void Shields and hull plating several meters thick.
Under normal circumstances, a battleship could withstand bombardment for several hours.
Guilliman had no intention of waiting that long. If a pack of weak enemies could hold him up for so long, how was he supposed to crush Chaos with his fists and kick Greenskins aside?
Information gathered by the Auspex and data-radar flowed rapidly through Guilliman's pupils.
He could read a page of information faster than an ordinary human could blink.
A Primarch could review vast quantities of information and make the optimal judgment within seconds.
Soon, the weakness of the Chaos flagship emerged in Guilliman's mind.
In one area, the Void Shield was blinking. Its instability indicated that the pulse regulation mechanism of the Shield Generator had malfunctioned.
"That flagship. Aim for these locations." Guilliman spoke with absolute confidence, his fingers dancing swiftly across the data-slate as he pressed its controls and activated holographic markers from the blur.
The Logis Engine converted the flagship's data into a projection. Several points of light appeared on the hologram, marking the weaknesses of the Chaos flagship.
The relevant orders were swiftly transmitted through the data-link to the entire fleet, and a series of confirmations returned through the communications officer.
"The entire fleet has locked onto the target."
"Then attack. Let us bring this void battle to a complete end."
Guilliman said.
Having completed their maneuvers, the Imperial fleet slowly tightened like a fishing net, and overwhelming firepower swallowed the Chaos vessels.
Even the enemy flagship suffered repeated bombardment, its Shield Generator flickering constantly.
Countless Lances and Torpedoes instantly blanketed the unprotected hull.
Under the combined assault of innumerable nuclear warheads, Macro-cannon shells, Torpedoes, and Lances, the massive flagship lasted less than thirty seconds.
A colossal pillar of fire erupted from the ship's center. Under the bombardment, its spine snapped. A second later, the reactor exploded as well, and a miniature sun engulfed the Chaos flagship in a perfectly formed yellow sphere.
Standing on the bridge, Guilliman felt a burst of intense light before it dimmed again.
The light-sensitive filters over the command deck's observation ports automatically shifted to pure black, protecting everyone on the command deck.
With the flagship destroyed, the remaining Chaos ships no longer posed a threat.
Guilliman instructed Brecht to deal with the remaining matters. Then he heard footsteps.
Donas, the Chief Librarian of the Dawn Star Chapter, clad in power armour, approached Guilliman.
"My lord, we have detected abnormal fluctuations on Sara II. The Veil between reality and the Warp is weakening. Those Plague Warriors are attempting to summon their allies."
"Then we must move faster." Images of what those traitors might do surfaced in Guilliman's mind. They were not things any normal person could endure. Merely witnessing those vile rituals could invite corruption.
To summon the Daemons of the Warp, bloody and cruel sacrifices were required.
After blood, pain, and souls had been offered, The Unliving would gain bodies capable of walking the material universe, inflicting enormous casualties upon humanity.
"Prepare for battle. We need to descend to the surface and cleanse that filth," Guilliman said. "I will make the Daemons of the Warp regret their despair at entering this world."
Sara Planet.
The outskirts of Grix Hive.
Gurlo stared at the glimmering Void Shields surrounding humanity's last bastion and revealed a disgusted expression.
These humans were stubborn beyond reason, thoroughly brainwashed by the Corpse Emperor. How foolish of them to reject the Grandfather's gifts.
Gurlo walked toward the ruins on the outskirts of Grix Hive. His bloated body strained against Terminator Armour dripping foul-smelling fluid, which screeched with every step.
Had anyone else seen this, they would likely have feared that the power armour might split apart beneath his swollen body.
Gurlo's power armour was an ancient model, dating back to the era of the Horus Heresy. At the time, the Dark Mechanicum that followed Horus had forged a batch of new Terminator Armour, far surpassing other power armour in power and performance.
After ten thousand years of corrosion, his power armour no longer resembled its former self. It was rusted and leaked foul-smelling fluid.
Yet because it had received Nurgle's blessing, his power armour had instead become even more exceptional.
"They do not understand the Grandfather's boundless love. Humans are always like this—narrow-minded and selfish." Gurlo looked toward the other Plague Warriors. They were similarly enormous, but Gurlo was always the largest among them.
"Generosity is the creed of Grandfather Nurgle. He is so loving that anyone who prays to him, regardless of wealth, age, health, or disability, may receive his generous love. Yet these humans do not know gratitude. They worship that decayed Corpse Emperor and refuse to accept the true power of the Dark Gods."
"We brought them gifts, yet they offered nothing in return and even regard us as enemies. I pity them. The Corpse Emperor's son has already arrived. To prevent these pitiful people from once again falling under the control of that selfish, cruel, greedy Corpse Emperor, we must launch the final attack as soon as possible, utterly crush the bastion, complete the sacrificial ritual, and turn this world into the Garden of the Grandfather."
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