Great Rift
The direction of Holy Terra is clear, but the journey to humanity's home planet is not an easy one.
The hideous wound that stretches across the Realspace — Great Rift torn from the Eye of Terror, piercing through the Milky Way.
Like an endless sore flowing with pus and madness, it completely blocked the nearest route to Terra.
Within and around the rift, Chaos energy flows rampantly, rendering the laws of reality fragile and vulnerable. It has long since transformed into Chaos starry sea where demons and traitors roam freely.
Deep within the Great Rift lies a treacherous region of space, composed of distorted asteroid belts, warship wreckage, and eternal energy storms, where a colossal shadow silently hovers.
It was not a natural celestial body, but a gigantic structure with a bizarre shape and inhuman geometric beauty— Blackstone Fortress.
Its entire body is a dark blackish-green color, and its surface is as smooth as a mirror, yet it is covered with incomprehensible grooves and protrusions.
It quietly exudes a cold field that makes Psyker extremely uncomfortable and suppresses Warp fluctuations.
This is a terrifying creation representing the pinnacle of Necrons technology, originating from the same source as another fortress that crashed into Cadia and indirectly caused the Great Rift to erupt.
At this moment, on the command throne at the heart of the fortress, Huron Blackheart, the tyrant of the Red Corsairs and the Blackheart King, was toying with a Power Axe inlaid with a demon's skull.
His body, twisted and muscular from the blessing of Chaos and covered in dark red armor, leaned slightly forward, his single eye gleaming with greed and calculation.
An adjutant stepped forward, his voice tinged with barely perceptible anxiety:
"My lord, there is still no news from the Ultramar fleet."
Huron waved his hand, letting out a sneer tinged with metallic scraping, "Of course there won't be any news, Robert Guilliman, that perpetual bureaucrat, that idealistic idiot."
Having just recovered, he will definitely choose to reclaim his 500 Worlds, only to find, after encountering enough setbacks, that the rest of the Milky Way is beyond saving.
Only then would he reluctantly and dejectedly embark on his so-called ' Terra Expedition'.
We have plenty of time.
He tapped the metal floor of the throne beneath him with the handle of his Power Axe, producing a dull thud, and a smug grin spread across his face.
"Patience, my brother."
Patience is a hunter's greatest virtue.
The fortress beneath our feet... the destruction of Cadia has proven its power.
This time, we won't use it to smash planets; we'll use it... to imprison a Primarch.
Imagine imprisoning the great Lord Guilliman in this Warp that can even suppress the warp, offering him up to the Dark Gods, or... using him for our own purposes.
What a wonderful sight that would be!
He could almost see Guilliman, stripped of his power and reduced to a prisoner under the fortress's oppression, and the red light in his single eye intensified.
This Blackstone Fortress was his greatest trump card, and his biggest advantage in daring to ambush and covet the Primarch.
Following that Milky Way -shaking declaration and coronation in Hera Fortress Square.
The massive fleet underwent almost no lengthy preparation before departing amidst the fervent farewells and prayers of hundreds of millions of its people.
Like an arrow released from a bow, it sped directly into the depths of the starry sea, its target trajectory pointing straight towards the Great Rift!
On the bridge of the flagship Macragge's Honour, Guilliman, clad in the "Destiny" armor, with a crimson cloak draped over his shoulders, stood.
The Holy Laurel, which he had "purified" by his will and now symbolized only responsibility, shone with a steady golden radiance under the starlight.
He stood with his hands behind his back in front of the viewing window, his gaze seemingly piercing through the distant void, landing on the rift area churning with Chaos colors.
A respectful Navigator approached him, bowed, and reported, "Your Highness, we have reached the edge of the Great Rift."
Ahead... lies pure Warp turbulence and Chaos realm, where the structure of reality is extremely fragile.
Should we follow the conventional approach and find a relatively stable 'edge route' to detour...?
"No need."
Guilliman interrupted the Navigator, his voice calm but unwavering. "Go straight in."
The Navigator looked up in astonishment, almost thinking he had misheard.
Directly entering the Chaos star sea at the core of the Great Rift?
Even the Imperium's most fanatical Black Ships or reconnaissance fleets wouldn't dare to act this way!
Not to mention they now have a faster-than-light engine, so they can easily take a detour.
Guilliman did not explain.
He was not acting rashly, but rather with a clear objective— Huron Blackheart and his Blackstone Fortress.
The Blackstone technology of the Necrons is a creation capable of effectively suppressing Warp forces and stabilizing the structure of reality.
It has immeasurable strategic value for purifying the human world and combating the erosion of Chaos in the future.
Instead of racking your brains searching the Milky Way for those Necrons Tomb Worlds...
The Blackstone Fortress, which is known to be occupied by traitors, is undoubtedly the most direct and "appetizing" target.
Closing the Great Rift is a long-term goal, but seizing the Blackstone is an immediate benefit.
"Full fleet, activate the highest level of the Gellar Field. All warships, maintain formation, with the flagship as the vanguard—"
Guilliman turned, his gaze sweeping over all the officers on the bridge before finally settling on the Navigator, and gave the final order:
"Accelerate immediately and charge into this Warp region!"
"Yes, sir! For Guilliman! For humanity!"
After a brief moment of shock, the officers, infected by the Primarch's decisiveness, erupted in a fanatical response.
The next moment, the massive Ultramar fleet, so large it blotted out the stars, crashed into the Warp Rift, amidst a cacophony of colors and constant Whisper!
The reinforced Gellar Field formed a solid golden halo around the ship's hull, repelling and burning away all the invisible claws and corrosive energy that tried to pounce on it.
Even more astonishing was that, as the fleet surged in, hundreds of thousands of Ultramarines flew out of the sortie hatches of each warship like a swarm of bees!
They did not travel by assault boat or Thunderhawk Gunship, but instead used the lift provided by the Smart Atoms within their bodies to fly directly into space!
The dark blue figures, densely packed, surrounded the fleet, forming a moving, chilling sea of steel!
They silently watched the Chaos waves, their Bolter and Power Weapon poised to fire.
Any demon that dares to approach and attempt to materialize an attack on Gellar Field will be torn to shreds in an instant by countless crossfires and lightning-fast melee assaults.
The remaining Warp Essence is collected by specific squads as "trophies" to be offered to the Primarch.
Propelled by a new type of Warp driver that incorporates the principles of an alternate universe faster-than-light engine.
The entire fleet maintained astonishing speed and stability amidst the chaotic torrents of the Warp.
Like a sharp blade cleaving through the murky ocean currents, it headed straight for Huron's pre-planned ambush area—that Chaos sea of stars known as the "Shattered Graveyard."