56 Reclaim Hope (13, 7K)

The violent crackle of electricity hissed through the air.

"Analyze it," Roboute Guilliman said.

He gave the order with a clear mind and full awareness. The crew working on the main bridge of Macragge's Honour had served with him for no less than three years, and the understanding between them was unparalleled.

The truth was that under his leadership, anyone could become part of an extraordinarily efficient system.

Yet, two full seconds after the word "analyze" slowly left his lips, the bridge remained deathly silent. That efficient system had suddenly malfunctioned; no one carried out his command.

"My lord?" At last, an officer cautiously spoke. "Are you certain?"

"Analyze it."

Guilliman repeated himself without impatience. His eyes now blazed a searing white, too bright for anyone to dare meet his gaze, like staring directly into the sun.

This time, his order was carried out fully and decisively. Components throughout the ancient Gloriana-class warship began operating at maximum capacity. Their sounds came from somewhere far away, echoing through the vessel's veins before finally becoming lines upon lines of complex, indescribable data-code before the data-processors.

The analysis began. Cogitators hummed.

The Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds rested one hand on his sword, turned, and crossed the bridge in a few strides to a small chamber at its side.

Of course, for a primarch to enter it, it could not truly have been that small. Beneath its white dome, his brother—the Angel of Baal—was praying with his eyes closed.

Clad in golden armor, he bowed his head beneath a statue of The Emperor holding a sword. Yet unlike an ordinary worshipper, he made no prayer gesture. Like the Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds, one hand rested on his sword.

Such a detail naturally did not escape Guilliman's notice, but he offered