Emperor's Shield
On the other side...
In the endless jungle, the First Primarch, Lion Johnsen, treks forward.
This was not the Caliban he remembered.
Although the forests of Caliban are deep, they are ultimately creations of the Material Universe —trees wither and flourish, wild animals live and die, and sunlight penetrates through layers of leaves to dangle among the trees.
But this place is different.
The trees here cast no shadows.
Or rather, each tree is itself a shadow.
Lion's footsteps trod on the soft, humus-like ground; the sensation was so real, so real, that it could deceive the senses of any mortal.
But he knew—he was the Primarch, the first masterpiece created by the Emperor himself, the vanguard of mankind's conquest of the stars.
He can perceive things that ordinary people cannot.
This forest does not belong to the Material Universe.
It is part of Warp.
Yet it was so... serene.
There were no Chaos murmurs, no demonic prying eyes, and no twisted, insane beings trying to erode his mind.
There are only trees, only a road, and only the road ahead.
Lion continued on his way.
Fifty soldiers followed silently behind him.
Deathwing, an elite member of the First Company of the Dark Angels, wears Terminator Armour and wields the Storm Shield and Power Sword.
Ancient oaths were engraved on their armor, every line telling a story of unwavering loyalty.
Ravenwing, a knight of the Second Company of the Dark Angels, glided silently through the forest aboard Land Speeder.
Their duty was reconnaissance, raids, and delivering death before the enemy could react.
Fifty soldiers, fifty loyal hearts.
They followed their Gene-Father into this unknown territory without hesitation or fear.
Because they knew that no matter what lay ahead, no matter what enemies they faced, as long as the lion stood before them, they would have nothing to fear.
Even so, they were still amazed by this space.
It was a perception deeply ingrained in their genes—they were Space Marines, the Emperor's Angel of Death, the most powerful warriors in the Material Universe.
Their bodies and souls were created for fighting in reality.
At this moment, they could clearly feel—
This is not reality.
Every inch of this space whispers of its unreality.
The textures of the trees were too perfect, the changes in light and shadow too regular, and a subtle sense of weightlessness lingered on the edge of perception.
It was a strange experience, like walking in an eternal dream.
But they did not stop.
Because the lion is in front.
Lion could sense his children's confusion, but he offered no explanation.
Some things don't need explanation, they just need to be experienced.
This forest is both a test and a gift.
It leads to somewhere, to the battlefield where they will fight next.
He knew this from the moment he stepped into this place.
He continued forward.
The forest stretches on, the road continues.
The trees seemed to be watching him, and the branches and leaves seemed to be Whisper something.
Lion didn't glance to the side, nor did he stop. He simply moved forward, step by step, with the same determination he had shown when he first stepped onto the battlefield ten thousand years ago.
finally--
He saw the finish line.
It was a clearing in the woods, not large, but unusually tidy.
Sunlight—if it can be called sunlight—sunshine down from directly overhead, illuminating everything in the center of the open space in minute detail.
In the center of the open space, a the Rock stands majestically.
What kind of the Rock was that?
It seems to have existed since the beginning of time, its surface covered with moss and cracks, each crack telling a story of hundreds of millions of years of vicissitudes.
Yet it is so stable, so indestructible, as if even if the entire universe were to collapse, it would still stand there.
A sword is stuck in the Rock.
The sword gleamed.
The sword is long and slender, with a sharp blade, and a pure, flawless gem is inlaid in the guard.
But what truly captivates the eye is the light flowing across the sword's blade—not the light of metal, not the light of gemstones, but a light that is more essential and purer.
That was the light of loyalty.
Lion stopped in his tracks.
Just then, a voice rang in his ear.
The voice was gentle and calm, yet it contained supreme majesty.
He had heard that voice countless times in his dreams and searched for it countless times in his memories over the past ten thousand years.
That was the sound he heard when he first opened his eyes, the sound he heard when he first picked up a weapon, and the sound of approval after every victory.
That was my father's voice.
"This sword is named Loyalty."
Those six short words caused the lion's body to tremble slightly.
He raised his head and looked at the sword.
The light grew even brighter, as if calling to him, as if waiting for him.
He seemed to see the figures of countless Dark Angels throughout the ages—those warriors who died in foreign lands, those brothers who went missing on secret missions, and those loyal sons who waited until their dying breath for the return of the lion.
They are watching him.
They were waiting for him to pick up the sword.
Lion took a step forward.
"I will obey your command, my father."
His voice was deep, yet it echoed through the forest like thunder.
He walked toward the stubborn rock, toward the sword.
Each step was steady and powerful, each step telling a story of millennia of waiting.
He reached out and grasped the sword hilt.
That touch-
warmth.
It was like holding my father's hand.
Lion exerted a little force and pulled the sword out of the stone.
The process was so smooth and natural, as if the sword had been created and forged specifically for him.
The moment the sword detached from the Rock, a beam of light shot into the sky, illuminating the entire forest and the faces of every warrior who had followed him.
Lion held the sword firmly in his hand.
At that moment, he resembled the knight king from millions of years ago.
The boy who wielded a longsword in the forests of Caliban, the warrior who swore to follow the Emperor to the death after being discovered by him, the First Primarch who led the Dark Angels across the stars.
At that moment, it was as if ten thousand years had never existed; all the waiting, all the slumber, all the confusion vanished in an instant.
He is Lion Johnson.
He is a lion.
He was number one.
He took another step forward.
The forest continues to stretch out, and the road continues to move forward.
But Lion was different now—with the sword in his hand, every step he took was more resolute, and every breath he took was more profound.
He could sense the power contained within the sword; it was not a destructive power, nor a conquering power, but a deeper, more essential power.
That is the power of loyalty.
Loyalty to one's father.
Loyal to humanity.
Be true to your vows.
He continued forward.
In the middle of the road, something else awaited him.
It was a shield.
The shield wasn't large, yet it gave the illusion that it could blot out the sky.
Its surface is as smooth as a mirror, reflecting everything around it—trees, light and shadow, and even Lion's own silhouette.
But that mirror is not merely reflecting; it absorbs, transforms, and prepares to reflect all attacks back to where they came from.
The shield was engraved with ancient script, the true words written by the Emperor himself.
Every letter glows faintly, and every ray of light speaks of the sacredness of this shield.
This shield is called the Emperor's Shield.
It can deflect all attacks.
Lion stopped in his tracks.
The father's voice rang out again:
"I bestow the Emperor's Sword upon Robert Guilliman, and the Emperor's Shield upon my first son, Lion Johnson."
The sword represents advancement, the shield represents protection.
You two brothers will together carry my will and lead humanity toward a bright future.
Lion listened quietly.
He thought of his brother in the blue shirt, the brother who was always buried in his work, developing plans for every world.
But does Robert really need the Emperor's Sword now?
He has his own fists, that's enough, isn't it?
How about giving the Emperor's Sword to me, who is about to become Warmaster?
After being slapped by the Psionic Energy giant's pocket.
Lion reached out from his heart and grasped the shield.
In that instant, a strange sense of wholeness surged through my entire body.
He could feel the power contained within the shield—the power of protection, the power of perseverance, the power to stand firm even in the darkest of times.
He could feel that his slumber, waiting, and confusion over the past ten thousand years had been compensated for in this moment.
He is whole.
He is a lion, the first, the first son of the Emperor.
He wields the Sword of Loyalty and bears the Emperor's Shield.
He is Lion Johnson.
He will continue forward.
Take the final step forward.
Our Forest Walk ends here.