You Go Bother Them

A sealed chamber aboard the ship.

Three powerful Primarchs were racking their brains over a single question.

How were they supposed to awaken Roboute Guilliman?

Rogal Dorn was naturally held in great esteem by the Imperium's warriors, but Perturabo and Fulgrim were not nearly as welcome.

Fulgrim in particular was the chief culprit behind Guilliman lying in a stasis field for ten thousand years. The moment he revealed his presence before the Ultramarines, he would be met with attacks born of hatred.

Perturabo had originally intended to use a ritual to summon The Emperor to possess someone, allowing Him to grant them a revelation and clear the way. Yet The Emperor had given no response. When they asked the Aeldari seers, they merely said the signal was poor.

"Negotiations with the Ultramarines can only be handled by Rogal Dorn. Fulgrim and I are very likely to provoke the Ultramarines' hostility," Perturabo said.

"That was my thought as well... especially since I still need to summon Slaanesh to this planet... The fact that they have not launched Cyclonic Torpedoes already counts as hesitation," Fulgrim sighed miserably.

"In that case, we will use a crude method. Your bodies are far too large and conspicuous; disguising yourselves as Space Marines would be absurd. But I can hide you inside a sturdy shipping container." Rogal Dorn offered his solution.

Perturabo nodded, saying that he could install anti-detection equipment on the container.

The sturdy container, large enough to hold two Primarchs, reflected Rogal Dorn's plain and unadorned style. The various technological devices Perturabo installed made it look as wildly excessive as something only Orks could have built.

Fulgrim shook his head and began painting and decorating the container, making every inch of it radiate a sacred, ancient air.

Perturabo and Fulgrim lay inside it, using