Expedition! Expedition!! Expedition!!!

The phantom solidified further within the flames, its facial features becoming increasingly clear.

That Emperor's face, weathered yet imbued with boundless majesty and compassion, seemed to truly break free from the shackles of Psionic Energy and descend upon us!

The colossal figure, wielding a burning holy sword, slowly "scanned" the millions of kneeling subjects at its feet, remaining silent for a moment.

Then, a magnificent, serene voice, like a divine oracle resounding deep within the hearts of every human being, slowly rose:

"Humans..."

"Our time has come..."

The voice paused, as if giving time to understand.

Even if... I'm not there... it's okay.

"Humanity... will find its own way."

"Admit it!"

The voice suddenly turned stern, carrying a soul-piercing interrogation and an undeniable incitement:

"You cannot tolerate... those grotesque, Xenos races!"

They have no similar culture to us! No similar appearance! No... shared future!

"Just think about it—they'll devour the corpses of their own kind (Orks)!"

They will greedily spy on our home and heritage (Eldar, T'au, etc.)!

They view human suffering and sacrifice as exploitable bargaining chips or palatable food (Dark Eldar, Tyranids)!

The golden colossal figure slowly raised the burning holy sword, its tip pointing towards the endless sea of stars.

"Let the Great Crusade continue!!"

The last six words, like the beating of war drums and the lighting of torches, resounded powerfully in the hearts of every human being!

Even if the stars fall!

Even if the sea of stars boils!

"Our warships—will blot out the sky!"

"No matter how many suns hang in the sky of that universe!!!"

The Emperor's meaning is crystal clear!

Expedition! Expedition!! Expedition!!!

"Expedition!!!!"

I don't know who was the first to shout out that word with a hoarse voice.

Then came the second, the tenth, the hundredth, the thousandth, the ten thousandth... a millionth, a millionth!

Like a volcano that has been accumulating energy for thousands of years finally finding its vent.

Endless shouts, roars, and oaths erupted from every corner of Terra.

They coalesced into a terrifying sonic wave powerful enough to shake the stars and tremble even in the Warp!

Ten thousand years ago, people willingly embarked on a journey to conquer the stars because of a single word spoken by Emperor.

Ten thousand years later, after experiencing betrayal, despair, division, and endless suffering, this same flame was rekindled in an even more ferocious and tragic manner!

The Emperor's will is crystal clear.

His appearance, His declaration, was not for appeasement, nor for holding fast, but for—to set sail once more!

In the name of revenge and survival, let humanity's will and fury be unleashed in every corner of the Milky Way!

Guilliman looked up at the sky, at the golden colossal shadow that had sparked the frenzy, his expression first one of shock, then one of complexity, and finally twisted into a kind of helplessness and disgust akin to constipation.

(I finally managed to get you out here, and the first thing you did upon showing up was to shout for war like a warlord?)

... Okay, although the effect was outstanding... but as expected, I am the most civilized and reasonable of all the Primarch.

Yes, that must be it.

"No... why... are you here...?"

The projection of the Dark Emperor swayed violently like a candle in the wind under the impact of the Emperor's true form descending and the roar of the people.

The voice was filled with despair, resentment, and the deepest fear.

"You should return to that damned throne! And continue to endure that endless torment!!"

Why did you have to show up?! Don't light that fire!!

Don't want!!!"

He sensed it.

In the depths of that cold, millennia-old sea of humanity's collective subconscious, a sea brimming with despair, numbness, and apathy.

A faint yet incredibly tenacious golden flame was officially ignited by the Emperor's arrival and declaration!

This flame is hope, anger, a united will, and a resolute determination to survive and reclaim dignity at all costs!

Once the flames begin to burn...

This race called humanity... will transform into the flames of vengeance... and sweep across the entire Milky Way!!!

Guilliman walked over, raised his foot, and mercilessly stomped on the Dark Emperor's face, which was twisted with despair, crushing his wails into the earth.

"Just watch closely, my dear old man's 'other side'."

Guilliman's voice was cold and resolute. "Look at this, now you see what true 'destruction' looks like!"

He pressed down hard with his feet, as if trying to solidify some kind of belief.

"I will be the Warmaster."

He pointed to the boiling, shouting crowd around him, and to the golden giant shadow in the sky:

"Lead the humanity you call 'deserving of destruction'... to conquer, to purify, to make the entire Milky Way remember the name of humanity!"

"As for that bullshit you just spouted, begging me to become your alter ego..."

Guilliman leaned down, close to the Dark Emperor's "ear," and spoke each word clearly:

"Now, I will formally answer you--"

"I, Robert Guilliman, will only be—the embodiment of humanity!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Guilliman suddenly exerted force with his feet!

Pfft!

The Dark Emperor's projected head, made of despairing Psionic Energy, exploded like a watermelon smashed by a heavy hammer!

Dark fragments of Psionic Energy scattered and flew everywhere, only to quickly dissolve into the dense golden Emperor Psionic Energy surrounding them.

The entire projection began to rapidly collapse and dissipate, eventually transforming into a wisp of the purest and deepest source of darkness.

Like weary birds returning to their nests, they spontaneously and irresistibly drifted towards the golden, Emperor shadow in the sky.

The Emperor's colossal shadow slowly lowered its head, extending a hand made of light to gently catch the wisp of darkness.

The darkness fell like a drop of water into a blazing furnace, without causing a ripple.

It simply and silently, completely merged into the boundless golden light, becoming a part of it, without leaving a trace.

Guilliman watched all of this silently.

Both he and the Emperor understood.

The power and essence of this Dark King are also part of the Emperor, one of the "legacy" accumulated from humanity's millennia of suffering.

It cannot be discarded, nor can it be left unchecked; it must be taken back and brought under control.

If... humanity's expedition fails, if hope is extinguished once more, and despair returns...

So, the next flame to be ignited and sweep across the Milky Way may no longer be the golden flame of hope, but rather this suppressed, dark flame of despair!

Humanity's expedition has ended, the Dark King's expedition has begun!!

If I don't get this done, then none of you are going to live!

In the sky, the Emperor's golden colossal shadow seemed to raise its head slightly, its gaze seemingly piercing through the Milky Way and piercing into the endless darkness of the deep space.

In that gaze, there was expectation, determination, and also a hint of... an unquestionable, final ultimatum-like authority.

The spark has been ignited.

The horn of expedition has sounded.

This time, it's either conquer the sea of stars, or... take everything with you to the grave.

There is no third way!