He Will Be Resurrected
It was as if the strings of the universe were gently plucked by an invisible yet supreme hand, playing a note destined to change the Destiny the Milky Way.
After Guilliman finished speaking, he said no more, and didn't even look at Dante and the others again.
He turned around and strode towards the depths of the Baal Monastery, towards the core sanctuary where the body of Sanguinius was preserved.
His steps were steady and firm, not fast, but each step seemed to perfectly match the rhythm of the planet beneath his feet and the surrounding space.
Strangely, Dante and the others who were following behind him trying to maintain the formation of the procession found that their steps became unusually easy and smooth.
It was as if gravity was subtly adjusting, air resistance became gentle, and every step was taken at the optimal point of contact.
They were clearly walking, clearly being led by the Lord Regent...
A strange sense of surprise rose in Dante's heart, but I've never felt walking could be so... smooth and comfortable?
It's like... eating Dove!
He recalled a legend from some ancient texts about a magical potion called "Dove" from the Old Terra era, which was said to give people an ultimate smooth feeling after consumption.
The feeling I have now is strangely similar to that.
(Guilliman: His merits and fame remain hidden. jpg) Atomic Manipulation fine-tunes environmental parameters, making friendly units move more efficiently; this is just basic operation.
The path to the temple had long been cleared, and the heavy gates, engraved with the Blood Angels and the Imperium emblem, slid silently to either side before Guilliman.
Two thousand Ultramarines, like the most loyal blue wave, quickly and orderly split into two sides, standing guard and forming a solemn passage leading directly to the deepest part.
They were as silent as mountains, only the Aquila of Ultramar on their armor reflected a cold and loyal light under the eternal fire within the temple.
The Blood Angels, whether wounded or still able-bodied warriors, spontaneously and silently gathered outside the passage.
Their eyes followed Guilliman's retreating figure, their hearts pounding involuntarily.
That place is the birthplace of the Blood Angels, the sacred site where the remains of the Ninth Primarch, Sanguinius, rest in eternal peace, and the most sacred and inviolable forbidden zone of the Chapter.
Finally, Guilliman reached the deepest part of the temple.
There are no superfluous decorations here, only eternal silence and solemnity.
A massive coffin, crafted from the purest star sapphire and obsidian.
It sits quietly on a high platform in the center of the hall, surrounded and protected by a faint but eternal force field and Psionic Energy runes.
No orders or instructions were required from Guilliman.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of metal striking the ground rang out in unison!
All the Ultramarines who followed into the inner sanctum, including Calgar, Kaido, Sicarius, Titus...
All faced the coffin, knelt on one knee, and bowed their proud heads, paying the Legion the highest level of silent respect to another Primarch.
Guilliman himself stopped ten paces away from the coffin.
He did not kneel, but simply lowered his head slightly and closed his eyes, as if he were observing a brief but profound moment of silence.
His profile, illuminated by the eerie blue flames, appeared incredibly solemn.
All the Blood Angels, whether inside or outside the temple, knelt down in unison.
Countless eyes were filled with tears.
To protect this body, to prevent their father's sacred remains from being defiled by the Tyranids or any enemy, they paid the price with far too much blood and lives of their comrades.
At this moment, the presence of a Primarch in the ceremony imbues all the sacrifices and perseverance with a deeper meaning and a sense of solemnity and recognition.
However, this solemn silence lasted for less than ten seconds.
Guilliman abruptly raised his head, his eyes no longer showing any trace of mourning, but instead a burning, almost impatient, bright light!
With a wave of his hand, as if dispelling an invisible barrier, he laughed loudly and strode confidently toward the sacred coffin, which was considered an absolute taboo and had not been opened for ten thousand years!
"My brother! I'm here--!!!"
His laughter echoed in the silent temple, filled with the joy of reunion and a sense of exhilaration that "it should have been this way long ago."
We've been waiting for you for so long!
The Imperium of Man has been waiting for you for a long time!
This world, scarred yet yearning for hope—has been waiting for you for a long time!
He stopped beside the coffin, his hand resting on the cool, translucent sapphire lid, his voice shifting to a tone that was both teasing and undeniably domineering:
"How?
Do you still want to lie in that cold, broken coffin and sleep in?
I'm sorry, even I was dragged out of my ten-thousand-year 'long vacation' to work, so of course you're not allowed to continue slacking off either!
"Arise, Sanguinius!"
Your offspring need you, the Imperium needs you, and I need you too!
These words were like the Rock thrown into a still pool, stirring up towering waves in the temple!
Absolutely domineering!
Unbelievable!
Almost... blasphemy?!
Some of the Blood Angels are of fierce character and hold the highest reverence for the Primarch.
Almost the instant he heard the words "broken coffin" and "lazy," his eyes suddenly became bloodshot and his chest heaved violently.
The "Black Rage" in his blood was like a lit fuse, about to explode out of control!
How dare he?!
How could he treat the sacred, millennia-old Gene-Father with such frivolous, even disrespectful, language?!
However, those around them were the Blood Angels who had experienced battlefield miracles and witnessed their comrades being resurrected under the light of Guilliman.
He immediately grabbed his brother, who was about to lose control, and shook his head vigorously, his eyes flashing with excitement, disbelief, and a wild hope.
They Whisper urgently, "Wait! Watch!"
Believe in the Lord Regent! He... he might really be able to do it...!
For Guilliman today, the "death" that has just occurred, in which his soul has not yet completely dispersed, is by no means the true end.
Before his Atomic Manipulation authority that touches the very essence of matter and his immense Psionic Energy, as long as the soul has not yet fully merged into the Warp background radiation.
All physical damage, whether it's being torn apart by the Tyranids, pierced by explosives, or even having your heart shattered, is nothing more than "physically repairable trauma."
Reorganize atoms, repair tissues, stimulate the life force—as long as the soul remains, it can be brought back!
In comparison, the Gauss Weapons that the Necrons prides itself on, capable of breaking down targets into elementary particles, seems like a crude toy in the face of Guilliman's "atomic-level reconstruction" capability.
Can Necrons weapons, while causing destruction, so precisely preserve vital information and instantly reconstruct it?
Guilliman stopped paying attention to the reactions from the outside world.
A thought flashed through his mind, and his consciousness sank in.
The interface of the Strongest Regent System silently unfolded.
[Current Governance Points: 500,000]
"System," Guilliman murmured to himself, "Exchange all my remaining 500,000 Governance Points for— Eternal Essence!"