Go to Battle

Magnus in the sky saw all of this.

The Psionic Energy chains binding Angron loosened slightly in his hands.

The crimson eye turned to the Primarch World Eaters beside him, who was still panting heavily, his eyes bloodshot, but whose attention was temporarily diverted by the battle before him and Guilliman's arrival.

"Brother," Magnus's voice, transmitted through Psionic Energy directly into the depths of Angron's chaotic and raging mind, attempted to penetrate the endless echoes of rage, "Do you see?"

This is the attitude we should have.

Fight for the Imperium, not be consumed by rage.

Angron let out a low growl, the chains rattling, but his reaction to Magnus's words was no longer just a violent struggle; there seemed to be a hint of... confusion?

Or rather, it was the bloody battlefield and the familiar yet strange aura of brotherhood that stirred up certain fragments buried deep within the sea of anger.

"You have committed too many mistakes, and your hands are stained with blood that should not have been stained."

Magnus continued, his voice carrying a rare, almost brotherly weight. "Now is the time for atonement."

It's not addressed to some vague, ethereal god, but to our race, to the very concept of 'humanity' itself.

He stared into Angron's bloodshot eyes, as if trying to see into the deepest recesses of his soul, tormented by the Butcher's Nails and millennia of rage. "Fight well, brother."

Fight as we were given the mission when we were born.

To protect, not to destroy.

I believe... Robert will help you.

Just like him... gave me a chance to stand here, in this posture."

He recalled that when he was on the verge of utter madness and the corruption of Chaos, it was Guilliman, with some kind of "Vitruvian" essence, which he had not yet fully comprehended, possessed power.

Using the immense Psionic Energy left behind by the Emperor, he forcibly stabilized his shattered soul.

It cleared away some of the most stubborn Chaos contamination and endowed him with a new foundation of power that is more closely connected to the Material Universe.

The process was painful and lengthy, but the result was...

He felt that he was closer to the "Magnus" before the Council of Nikaea, a man full of knowledge and a thirst for exploration, than before he fell to the Crimson King.

"I believe you, brother."

Magnus concluded with utmost solemnity, "This may be the last time you fight as a pure 'warrior' rather than a ' Destroyers '."

I assure you, go ahead and kill—but only kill the Tyranids that deserve to die!

Unleash your fury and power upon these all-consuming Xenos!

Crush them!

Prove it to the Milky Way, and to yourself--

Magnus's voice suddenly rose, carrying a grand, proclaiming quality:

"We, the Primarch, were, and will always be... the gods of humanity!"

That was true in the past! That will be true in the future!

Now—at this moment! Here! And so it is!

As soon as he finished speaking, Magnus swung his staff, "Azikwan," with a sudden burst of energy.

No longer a constraint, but a liberation!

"Crack..."

The Psionic Energy chains snapped inch by inch, turning into scattered specks of light.

Almost at the same instant the chains disappeared, Magnus himself moved.

He no longer looked after Angron, because he had already given his trust.

He focused all his attention on the bloody battlefield below.

A pure and vast Psionic Energy radiance, like a second sun, erupted from his body!

The light was not dazzling, but it carried a sacred quality that cleansed all filth and suppressed all Chaos.

This is a new form of Psionic Energy that combines Guilliman's "material stability" property, the Emperor's pure Psionic Energy legacy, and Magnus's own vast knowledge and power!

The radiance of Psionic Energy spread rapidly from him like ripples.

Wherever it passed, the insect spores permeating the air were purified, the activity of the creep was suppressed, and low-level Tyranids units were instantly stiffened, shriveled, and turned to ashes, as if crushed by an invisible giant hand.

Magnus arrived directly at the most critical point in the battle.

There, a group of Blood Angels were separated and surrounded by the swarm of insects.

One of the warriors was clearly completely dominated by "Black Rage," wildly swinging his sword and nearly injuring his comrades who were trying to rescue him.

The Crimson King (or perhaps it would be more appropriate to call him "Lord of Dawn" now?)

He stretched out his enormous hand and lifted the enraged Blood Angels into the air as if he were picking up a chick.

Then, under the shocked, bewildered, and even somewhat comical gazes of the surrounding Blood Angels—

"Slap! Slap!"

Two clear, powerful slaps landed squarely on either side of the soldier's helmet!

This was a "homemade method" that Magnus learned from Guilliman.

According to the Lord Regent's brother, this applies to certain states where individuals are caught in extreme emotions or Psionic Energy interference.

Sometimes, physical "awakening stimulation" is more direct and effective than any Psionic Energy channeling or drug.

If two aren't enough, then have two more.

Today, Magnus's body has also been baptized by Guilliman's blood and nourished by the properties of Smart Atoms.

His physical strength far surpasses that of himself ten thousand years ago when he was a pure Psionic Energy master.

These two big guys swung down, the force was just right, leaving you stunned but not brain-damaged.

The enraged warrior was stunned, his movements froze, and a brief moment of blankness and confusion appeared in his blood-red eyes beneath his helmet.

"Stay alert, soldier."

Magnus's deep voice rang out, carrying an unquestionable authority. "You are the offspring of my ninth Sanguinius, and should inherit the compassion and fortitude of the holy archangel."

Being dominated by ' Black Rage ' and recklessly squandering life and power is not how Sons of Sanguinius should behave.

After saying that, he put the soldier down as if he were discarding an insignificant object, and then didn't even look at him.

It transformed once again into a platinum-gold Psionic Energy storm, rushing towards another area densely populated with insect swarms.

The Blood Angels, who had been slapped twice in the buttocks, stood still and shook his head.

He not only snapped out of his Black Rage, but also felt a warm and powerful Psionic Energy flowing through his body.

The hidden injuries and fatigue accumulated from the previous battle were completely swept away, and strength was once again replenished in his limbs.

He touched his still slightly numb cheeks, then looked at the platinum-gold giant in the distance, which was unleashing a purifying storm within the swarm of insects.

He grinned, revealing a smile that was a mixture of confusion, gratitude, and fighting spirit.

"Who cares!"

He growled and grabbed the Bolter from the ground. "Now is the time to pledge allegiance to the Emperor!"

For Baal!

For the angels!

He charged back into battle, his gun spitting fire, this time with a sharp and determined look in his eyes.

Similar scenes were constantly unfolding across the battlefield.

Magnus's extensive purifying Psionic Energy, as if possessing a discriminating ability, precisely avoided human warriors, targeting only the Tyranids.

Vast swarms of insects silently "evaporated" in the white Psionic Energy light.

At the heart of it all, slowly descending from the battlefield, was Robert Guilliman.