Everything Was Settling Down

The fleet reached the jump point three days after leaving Iron Fang.

Through the viewport, the planet had dwindled to a green point of light that was slowly fading.

The Imperium warships clearing the last spores from orbit looked like fireflies circling a dying campfire.

Their engines drew long, thin trails of light through the dark void.

Guilliman stood before the flagship's observation window, watching the green point slowly disappear. His gaze was calm.

His fingers did not drum against the armrest. They rested there, still.

Titus entered the bridge. His Power Armour had been polished again, and Adeptus Mechanicus artisans had covered the scratches eaten into it by Ork blood with a fresh ceramic coating.

He spoke quietly, but every word rang clear against the bridge's metal walls. "Father, the jump coordinates are confirmed. Lord Magnus has already established a beacon in the Warp. We can jump straight in without using the Webway."

"He works quickly."

Guilliman turned, his gaze sweeping across the star chart on the bridge.

Among its slowly turning points of light, a red marker flashed rapidly at the edge of the chart. It marked Blood Fang, an Ork planet three times the size of Iron Fang, lying within a dense nebula in the southern Milky Way.

The nebula was absorbing radiation from its surroundings faster than it should have, like a green ocean turning slowly in the dark.

Magnus was waiting for them at its outer edge.

Psionic Energy flowed through the glow of his single eye on the flagship's communications screen. Even after the signal delay, his voice reached the bridge with its familiar, carefully measured depth. "Blood Fang is far larger than we expected. At least twelve major Ork Clans have gathered on the planet, and they're killing each other for supremacy. Whoever