After enduring countless hardships, Guilliman was finally brought back aboard Macragge's Honour.
A teleportation beam bloomed on the Receiving Deck beneath the Bridge. When the blue-white light faded, several stumbling figures emerged.
Guilliman was all but carried out by two members of the Invincible Iron Guard. His steps were unsteady, his knees buckling slightly with every stride. He could collapse at any moment.
His blue Power Armour was covered in scratches and scorch marks. Blue-black gore had congealed in the gaps between its plates; some belonged to the Rangdan Xenos, while some could no longer be identified.
He still held the Sword of Truth, its blade coated in dried scraps of flesh and gore, but his fingers no longer had the strength to grip it. The hilt merely hung loosely in his palm.
"Father! Father!"
Hill rushed forward, trying to support Guilliman's arm, but the moment his fingers touched the cold armour, he realized that Guilliman's body was trembling faintly and uncontrollably, as though he stood on a machine that never stopped vibrating.
Hill's pupils contracted slightly. He had never seen Guilliman like this.
The warriors who had withdrawn from the storm emerged from the teleportation beam one after another, an indescribable heaviness in every gaze.
At that moment, the fighting aboard Macragge's Honour was still raging.
Explosions and gunfire from the Lower Deck occasionally penetrated the bulkheads, becoming muffled echoes on the Receiving Deck.
Space Marines of the Word Bearers and the Ultramarines Legion were fighting Tzeentch daemons, but to Hill, the sounds of that battle seemed to pass through layers of water, so distant they scarcely had anything to do with him.
His gaze remained fixed on Guilliman's face. Those blue eyes stared emptily, their pupils unfocused.
When Hill realized that Malekith had not followed them back, he