Terra's skies had grown clamorous, yet full of... hope.
The massive Imperial fleet blotted out the starlight like a migrating nebula of steel, slowly departing the orbit of the sacred Throneworld beneath the protection of the Adeptus Custodes fleet and orbital defense platforms.
Macrocannon arrays glinted with cold light, while the hum of charging lances merged into a deep, rumbling backdrop.
Upon the prows, the new insignia of the Imperial Regent—a blue-and-gold Aquila—shone brilliantly in the Void.
The Indomitus Crusade had officially set sail!
Guilliman stood upon the cathedral-like bridge of the Macragge's Honour, his blue-and-gold Armor of Fate gleaming with restrained power beneath the faint light of the command star map.
His gaze swept across the seven crimson markers on the tactical star map, each one nailed like a malignant tumor into the throat of the Solar System.
Abaddon's blockade had to be utterly shattered!
This was the first step of the crusade, and also the horn call of the Imperium's counterattack!
"Orders!" Guilliman's voice, forged from Adamantium, rang clearly through the fleet's communications network. "First Strike Group, target: Broken Chain Spaceport. Sicarius will lead the Second Company and the supporting fleet! Retake it at maximum speed. Once the remaining enemy has been purged, immediately turn to support the second target!"
"Second Strike Group, Agemman will lead the fleet! Launch a frontal assault and draw in the enemy's main force!"
"Third Strike Group..."
One clear, decisive order after another was issued. Like a precisely programmed war machine, the vast expeditionary force began to split off, turn, accelerate, and surge toward its respective targets in perfect order.
Guilliman's strategic intent was clear: strike at multiple points, end the battles swiftly, and use the restored strength of the Imperial Navy and the morale brought by a returned Primarch to smash these