As Earth—and indeed the entire Solar System—fell into stunned silence before the Imperium fleet that blotted out the sky, powerful presences approached swiftly from afar.
They were the other Primarchs.
They first cast looks of approval, challenge, or simple happiness toward Lion, who had just ascended to godhood and whose aura had yet to fully settle, offering brief congratulations.
Lion returned their gazes, battle intent and divine majesty communicating without words.
Then, like their father Neos, every Primarch turned their eyes toward the sky overshadowed by the Imperium fleet. Pride burned in their eyes, along with the yearning to finally stretch their wings.
Soon, beams of teleportation light descended from the various warships in orbit, landing precisely beside each Primarch.
As the light faded, it revealed towering figures with formidable auras, clad in power armor of differing styles, all modified with Hilling technology. Their armor bore the emblems of their respective Legions and the Crystal Cross—they were the core leadership of each Legion.
"By the name of Hilling!" The moment these Legion leaders appeared, they immediately placed hands over their chests and bowed to Neos in perfect unison. Their voices were loud and reverent, their movements impeccably synchronized, displaying iron discipline.
Only then did they step behind their respective gene-fathers and stand solemnly at attention, like the Primarchs' most steadfast shadows and blades.
Sanguinius slightly turned her head toward the figure behind her—her finest son, Dante, whom she had forcibly made "work overtime."
"Dante," Sanguinius said elegantly, her voice carrying concern, "how is the galaxy... now that we have left?"
This question also piqued Neos's and the other Primarchs' interest. They temporarily withdrew their gazes from the stars and looked toward Dante, awaiting his answer.
They had been away from the Warhammer Universe for some time now, so they naturally