Breaking Free of the Maelstrom

The towering projection vanished, as if it had never appeared.

Yet the absolute silence and shock brought by those five seconds were branded deep into the souls of every living being on the bridge.

The Hilling Emperor's gaze had departed, leaving behind an eerie vacuum.

Kairos Fateweaver's immense energy body was still trembling violently. The screaming faces flickering madly within its compound eyes now held only confusion and profound terror.

That existence beyond comprehension, that pure embodiment of supreme order—especially the horrifying sight of Skarbrand being utterly erased by a single glance—had pierced its chaotic mind like the coldest steel needles, shattering its absolute faith in Tzeentch.

That was... the true... Kairos's thoughts fell into a chaotic loop, and the foundation of its belief in Tzeentch cracked wide open.

It did not even dare to "think" about the nature of that existence, fearing it might draw that gaze across time and space once more.

Its enormous body curled in on itself, radiating an unprecedented air of dejection and avoidance. It had completely lost the will to continue fighting and had even forgotten its mission.

As for the lesser daemons that had lost the direct command of a Greater Daemon—whether Khorne's Bloodletters and Flesh Hounds, or Tzeentch's Pink Horrors and Blue Horrors—they fell into utter, hysterical chaos after that brief dead silence!

Driven by the powers of different Chaos gods to begin with, they no longer distinguished friend from foe under the pull of extreme terror and instinctive madness, and began attacking one another with frenzied abandon!

Bloodletters swung their chainaxes at Pink Horrors, Blue Horrors blasted Flesh Hounds with sorcerous energy, and the Khorne Berserkers, deprived of targets, vented their bloodthirsty fury upon every moving thing around them!

The outer reaches of the bridge instantly became an even bloodier, more disorderly hell of mutual slaughter!

"Phew..." Guilliman let out a long, trembling breath, forcibly suppressing the storm raging in his heart.

He glanced at the Valkyries who had risen beside him, then at the daemon hordes outside that had descended into mad infighting.

The crisis had been temporarily lifted, but they were far from safe!

"Cawl!" Guilliman's voice carried a trace of barely perceptible hoarseness as he asked over the communications channel, "Engine status!"

Cawl's reply came through the channel, filled with mechanical static but noticeably more excited. "Engine core... restarting! ...It needs some time! I am reconnecting the energy conduits and attempting to restart the secondary propulsion array! The Void shields... cannot be restored in the short term!"

"At maximum speed! We have no time!" Guilliman said grimly. The daemons might be slaughtering one another, but who knew when Kairos would regain its senses? Who knew whether another Greater Daemon might be drawn here? What worried him even more were those traitorous brothers!

At that moment, Prince of Wales's cool voice sounded in the Valkyries' mind-link. "A reply from Supreme Wisdom."

Glory immediately focused and received the stream of information. A moment later, she turned to Guilliman, her face carrying a trace of complexity and reverence. "Lord Regent, Supreme Wisdom has replied. It... had originally been prepared to deploy the 'Arbitration Mechanism' to provide precise cross-dimensional strike support..."

"The Arbitration Mechanism?" Guilliman and the powerful warriors around him all caught that unfamiliar term, their hearts tightening.

Judging from the name alone, it sounded even more... ultimate than the Valkyries.

Glory's voice carried an indescribable emotional tremor. "...But Supreme Wisdom received His Majesty the Emperor's will. He took an 'interest' in this region and... cast down a gaze. Therefore, Supreme Wisdom judged that there was no need to dispatch the Arbitration Mechanism."

Guilliman exchanged glances with the high-ranking figures present, and all of them saw the shock in one another's eyes.

So that projection, that gaze that had annihilated a Greater Daemon, had merely been casually cast down because the Hilling Emperor had taken a slight "interest" in this place?! Then what kind of existence was the Arbitration Mechanism? The Hilling Empire... was unfathomable!

As everyone digested this astonishing information, the shadows near the shattered edge of the bridge rippled as though space itself were water.

There was no foul taint of the Warp. Instead, an ancient, secretive, and somewhat somber psychic ripple spread through the air.

A group of figures emerged without a sound.

At their head stood a tall warrior clad in dark green power armor.

His face was resolute, his eyes sharp as an eagle's, carrying a deep melancholy and a scrutinizing air. Beside him stood several Eldar warriors dressed in brightly colored, bizarre attire, their movements ghostlike, light, and swift—members of a Harlequin Troupe.

"Fallen Angel, Cypher," the leading warrior said in a low voice, with a trace of barely perceptible urgency, "and Eldar allies, the Harlequin Troupe."

Cypher's gaze swiftly swept over the wrecked bridge, the daemons fighting among themselves, Guilliman—exhausted but still imposing—and the Valkyries beside him, whom he had never seen before. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

The situation was completely different from the hopeless predicament he had anticipated!

Not only was Guilliman unharmed, even the losses among these Space Marines were far lower than he had expected!

The daemons were even fighting among themselves? This was entirely beyond his intelligence and plans!

"Lord Guilliman," Cypher said, suppressing the doubt and alarm in his heart, his speech slightly faster, "this is no place to remain! Khorne and Tzeentch's minions will not let this go. We can guide you along a hidden route, avoiding the most violent regions of the Warp storm, and help you escape the Maelstrom and reach the safe star systems near Terra!"

He paused, then stated his condition. "In exchange, once you reach Terra, you must take me to the Golden Throne, that I may stand before the Emperor! This concerns... an ancient secret, and the future of the Imperium!" His tone carried unwavering insistence. Clearly, he had not seen the five-second projection that could have overturned everything he believed.

Guilliman looked at Cypher and the Harlequins beside him, his gaze deep. The Dark Angels... brothers who moved in secrecy and bore heavy secrets.

And the Eldar Harlequins... those inscrutable dancers.

Their arrival now appeared to be timely aid, but their motives were certainly not simple.

Cypher's demand in that vaguely coercive tone especially left Guilliman deeply displeased.

But he did not refuse at once. His warriors needed rest, the daemons needed to be dealt with, the engines needed to restart, and time was the most important thing now!

"Archmagos, how much longer do the engines need?" Guilliman asked again.

"Energy injection in progress! Secondary propulsion array... attempting ignition! Give me... thirty minutes! No, twenty minutes!" Cawl's voice carried a mechanical shriek and a trace of fanaticism.

Guilliman turned to Cypher, his voice steady. "Dark Angel, thank you for your 'good intentions.' But at this moment, my foremost duty is to ensure the safety of the flagship and all survivors. I accept your assistance. As for the request you have made..." Guilliman stared sharply at him, "once we reach Terra, I will naturally consider it. For now, purge the remaining threats aboard this vessel and buy us time to restart the engines."

Guilliman's answer was flawless. He neither refused nor immediately agreed, merely emphasizing the current priority.

The implication was clear: help if you wish, but do not think you can start giving orders now. As for whether he would take Cypher to see the Emperor? That could wait until they reached Terra!

A flicker of barely detectable impatience flashed through Cypher's eyes.

Guilliman's response was too calm! There was none of the panic of a man trapped in a desperate situation, nor the urgency of one clutching at a lifeline.

"...As you wish, Lord Regent," Cypher replied in a deep voice, suppressing his emotions.

He nodded to the leader of the Harlequin Troupe behind him.

The brightly colored Eldar dancers immediately scattered like phantoms. Their psychic blades glinted with cold light as they silently melted into the shadows, beginning the precise hunt for isolated daemons and those attempting to charge into the inner areas.

Their movements were strange and efficient, as though they were performing a dance of death.

Cypher also drew his power sword and led the Fallen Angels following him into the battle against the chaotic daemons on the outskirts. Their attacks were sharp and lethal, their targets clear, effectively easing the pressure on the Imperium's warriors.

With this unexpected group of "free laborers," the pressure on the bridge's core area eased even further.

Guilliman and the Space Marines gained precious time to catch their breath.

Time passed, second by second.

Under the combined assault of their infighting, the Dark Angels, and the Harlequins, the number of daemons on the bridge rapidly dwindled.

As for Kairos, after enduring a long period of self-doubt like a system crash, its immense body suddenly shuddered! An extremely complex gleam flashed through its chaotic compound eyes.

It cast one final glance at Guilliman and the Valkyries in the bridge's core, then let out a meaningless, chaos-filled low roar.

Then its enormous energy body tore open a twisted Warp rift, and it plunged inside without hesitation, vanishing without a trace! It completely abandoned the servants that were still fighting among themselves.

Kairos had fled again!

Almost at the exact moment Kairos disappeared!

BZZZZ—BOOM!!!

A deep, powerful tremor came from the engine core of the Macragge's Honour! Accompanied by the fanatical prayers of the Tech-Priests, the huge, twisted engine nozzles at the ship's stern finally erupted once more with dim blue exhaust flames—weak, yet representing hope!

"Engine restart successful! Secondary propulsion array online! Heading locked—Astronomican light!" Cawl roared excitedly over the communications channel.

"All hands! Maximum thrust!" Guilliman's voice was utterly decisive, carrying the determination of one who had survived catastrophe.

The battered flagship, like a great bird reborn from fire, turned with difficulty yet unwavering resolve beneath the astonished—perhaps even bewildered—gazes of the Dark Angels and the Harlequin Troupe. Escorted by the Valkyrie Squad, trailing smoke and flame, it slowly accelerated toward the route illuminated by the Astronomican, toward humanity's heart, and sailed away from the Scarlet Maelstrom that had devoured countless loyalists.