Guilliman Cannot Afford to Lose

Guilliman's voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange power that pierced through the crowd, making the cheering populace even more excited.

The ragged yet devout Ecclesiarchy zealots were so stirred that they dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves, singing hymns in praise of the Emperor.

He had not forgotten humanity. He had allowed His son to awaken and return, to help mankind escape this dark and terrifying world and welcome a new future filled with hope.

Some believers could not help weeping. They took out electrified whips and lashed their bodies with sharp cracks, enduring even greater pain to show their devotion to the Emperor.

"Look at him, child. He is humanity's glory, humanity's salvation." A woman lifted her infant, only a few months old, so that he would remember the figure clad in azure power armor.

"Long live the Emperor! Long live Guilliman!" No one knew who shouted it first.

"Long live the Emperor! Long live Guilliman!" More people joined in.

"Long live the Emperor! Long live Guilliman!"

In the end, everyone was shouting. Soldiers and civilians alike cheered.

A son of the Emperor, a Primarch who had sworn to save them—he filled their hearts with incomparable excitement.

Guilliman clicked his tongue in astonishment. The power of human faith within the Dominion Template was surging rapidly.

He could also feel an invisible force continuously pouring into his body, making him stronger.

He even had the illusion that he could take on ten Greater Daemons like the one from earlier by himself.

And this was only the blessing of the Macragge System. What would it be like if he gained the blessing of all humanity in the Imperium?

Guilliman suddenly felt that opposing the Chaos Gods might actually have some promise.

He had to work hard—strive to one day punch the Blood God's brutes, kick Slaanesh's freaks, rule supreme, dominate the Warhammer Universe, then dominate the Multiverse, open a path back home, and play out the return of a god of war.

The battle was over. Under the protection of the Ultramarines, Guilliman entered the inner city of Macragge City.

The streets along the way were packed with people who had come from every corner.

At the shattered starport, black smoke rising into the sky, aircraft continued to land without end. They had all come for him.

The eyes of these people turned red whenever they looked at Guilliman. A single glance from him was enough to make them burst into tears, loudly crying titles such as "Long live Guilliman."

Guilliman looked at these people. These probably counted as fanatics now. It likely would not be difficult to get them to die for him.

Archmagos Cawl of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Chapter Master Calgar followed behind Guilliman.

Guilliman's successful awakening signified that humanity possessed a sliver of hope in this dark and despairing universe.

This greatly gratified the Tech-Priest. His thousands of years spent traveling across the Milky Way, gathering all kinds of technologies for Guilliman's resurrection, had not been in vain.

All that effort had finally borne fruit. The Milky Way was about to enter a new era.

Guilliman had awakened and returned, still steadfastly adhering to his mission: to fight for humanity, to fight for the Emperor.

Even though the Imperium had now been torn apart by the Warp Great Rift, with countless worlds plunged into darkness, Tech-Priest Cawl understood that as long as Guilliman had returned, humanity still had hope of regrouping and resisting Chaos once more.

Chapter Master Calgar's face was full of excitement. Even one of the neural cable conduits on his head seemed to radiate delight and joy.

The awakening of the Gene-Father had left him and the other Ultramarines unable to contain their excitement.

Celestine, Amalrich, and the others were also among the procession, their faces likewise ecstatic.

This was an unprecedented victory. It was not merely the expulsion of the enemy; more importantly, Guilliman had returned.

Surrounded by the procession, Guilliman walked toward Macragge's inner city, his gaze sweeping across the ancient city.

Behind the excited cheers lay the ruins of Macragge. They had won this battle, but the price had been devastating.

Countless civilians had died beneath the ravages of the Chaos armies. Their bodies lay amid the ruins, awaiting collection.

No one knew how many fearless Imperial defenders had likewise fallen, their bodies sprawled across trench after trench.

Shattered artillery pieces and tanks still burned fiercely, sparks spraying from their circuit boards as though mourning the passing of life.

Countless buildings had collapsed under the bombardment of the Chaos armies, and humanity's artistic treasures had been reduced to ashes.

Macragge had won, yet it was now a landscape of devastation, scarred beyond recognition.

His awakening had temporarily suppressed their grief, but that grief would eventually be unleashed.

The war between Chaos and the Imperium would continue. Thinking of this, Guilliman's joy at being able to fight ten enemies at once faded considerably.

Guilliman understood that countless more people would fall in war. For victory, for humanity's survival, countless more lives would still be lost.

Every moment in the turning of Destiny's gears would be filled with the ashes of human heroes, all to defend humanity's survival and dignity.

"I only hope it all ends well. I really don't want to be taken by the Chaos Gods and made into a toy." Thinking this, Guilliman gathered his thoughts.

Surrounded by the procession, he passed through the cheering sea of people and returned to the damaged Sanctum.

The corpses, rubble, shattered Daemon Engines, Dreadnoughts, and other heavy war machines had all been cleared away and transported elsewhere.

Within the Sanctum, the senior officers of the Chapters, Archmagos Cawl, and Saint Celestine paid their respects to Guilliman in turn. Then, through their accounts, Guilliman gained a clear understanding of every aspect of the Imperium's current state.

Even though he had prepared himself mentally, what Guilliman heard still made his heart tremble.

The Cadian Fortress had fallen. The Great Rift had torn apart the entire Milky Way. Countless Daemons had materialized and invaded human worlds, causing horrors and casualties beyond description.

Not a single world had remained untouched. All were ravaged or harassed by terrifying Daemons, Mutants, or traitors.

Without question, the current Imperium had long since strayed from the vision the Emperor and the Primarchs had once held. It had become the very thing they hated most, entering its darkest and most despairing age.

The Imperium of old had been built through the Emperor's and the Primarchs' countless efforts. It had been a Golden Age overflowing with hope and triumph.

People emerged from ignorance and embraced science and reason once more. The Imperium's expeditionary fleets spread the Emperor's light to every planet.

It had been a beautiful era full of hope.

After listening to Celestine, Calgar, and the others explain the current situation, Guilliman said that he needed to be alone and had them all leave.

Standing before a shattered window and watching people outside the Sanctum carry away bodies, Guilliman let out a faint sigh.

"Horus, you truly are beyond forgiveness."

Ten thousand years after the Horus Heresy, its aftershocks still echoed on.

Abaddon, the former First Captain of the Sons of Horus Legion and Horus's most loyal servant, had become the new Warmaster of the Chaos Gods during the long years in which the Primarchs had been absent. Again and again, he had launched attacks against the Imperium.

Over ten thousand years of suffering and war, the Imperium had gradually abandoned reason and the future for the sake of survival, becoming a bloated, absurd, ignorant, and cruel bureaucratic amalgamation.

Not the slightest trace of reason or hope could be seen. Only fear, hatred, and ignorance kept this colossal corpse barely alive!

Primarch Guilliman was an uncompromising idealist. Even among his brothers, none had ever been as full of hope as he was, sketching out a bright future.

The memories of his flesh affected his soul, leaving it sorrowful as well.

Humanity's ten thousand years had been too bitter. Their tiny Milky Way was crowded with enemies.

Traitors and Chaos Daemons plundered them without restraint, while some races from beyond the galaxy attacked them with equal madness.

Humanity today was far worse off than during the Great Crusade Era.

Compared with the Golden Age, it was even more tragic.

"There needs to be an entirely new plan." Guilliman pondered. Helping the Imperium defeat Chaos was not only for humanity's sake, but also for his own.

The Chaos Gods paid close attention to Primarchs. Once he failed, his soul would definitely fall into those creatures' hands. Then he truly would be unable to live or die, tormented for eternity.

He could not afford to lose. If he lost, it would truly be disastrous.