Macragge's Honour's massive hull tore through the murky starfield of the X Galaxy, its engines roaring like horns proclaiming the end.
The fleet had only just arrived when the sight before them declared the brutality of the battle.
Countless twisted, burning Plague Fleet wrecks floated in orbit, circling this ravaged medical world like a belt of cosmic debris.
The orbital defense ring painstakingly built by Archmagos Cawl had fallen silent. Its enormous gun emplacements and energy arrays had either been reduced to charred scrap or covered in sticky corrosion scars, wisps of green smoke rising from them.
Though their light had gone out, the enemy wreckage littering the orbit proved that they had fulfilled their mission—pinning down Nurgle's main fleet here, inflicting devastating losses, and buying precious time for the ground forces.
Guilliman did not linger in orbit.
He knew all too well how deadlocked the ground battle was, and the immense pressure Calgar faced.
Massive drop pods descended like falling meteors, smashing precisely into the vicinity of Iax's central medical district under the covering fire of the Imperium fleet, which had retaken control of orbit.
Their hatches burst open amid steam and smoke.
Guilliman's towering blue figure stepped out first, the blade of the Emperor's Sword flowing with searing energy beneath the dim sky.
Behind him came the silent, mountain-like, superbly equipped Primaris Space Marines, along with allies of the Imperium.
Calgar was there to meet him.
The Chapter Master's power armor bore the marks of battle. Disgusting pus had congealed across its Gravis plating, while scorch marks from energy weapons blackened its surface. Yet his back remained straight, and an unyielding fire burned in his eyes.
"Lord Regent!" Calgar's voice carried exhaustion, but it remained thunderous. "We held them! Thanks to... Priest Mathieu and the troops he brought."