"I understand, Librarian."
Hill nodded, the burning resolve in his eyes unwavering.
He turned and walked over to Guilliman, then sat on the metal floor beside his chair. He glanced at Guilliman's vacant face. There was no exhaustion, no pain, no awareness upon it, only utter blankness.
"I'm here, Father," Hill said slowly.
As his words faded, Plato channeled his psychic energy and began guiding Hill's consciousness into Guilliman's soul-world.
Plato's fingers traced intricate runes through the air. Like fuses set alight, they glowed one by one, weaving his psychic energy into an invisible net that enveloped Hill's body.
Hill's eyelids began to grow heavy, as though molten lead had been poured into them.
A warm, powerful force surged toward him like a tide, buoying his consciousness and carrying him toward that unknown abyss.
Amid waves of dizziness, Hill entered Guilliman's illusory world.
It was as though an invisible hand had hurled him into a vortex of time. Countless images raced around him, like a dream sped up a thousandfold.
He saw blue planets sweep beneath his feet, burning fleets sink into the Sea of Stars, and countless faces, some laughing, some weeping, some roaring...
But they all flashed past him in the same instant, too quickly for him to recognize a single face.
Then the dizziness stopped abruptly, like a door closing without a sound.
When Hill awoke again, he found himself lying outside the city of Macragge.
His body lay nestled in soft grass, and the air carried the scent of damp earth and a faint fragrance of flowers.
Sunlight spilled through the clouds, spreading warm, gentle light across the ground.
Birdsong drifted from the distant groves, clear and peaceful, like an old dream slowly unfolding.
Hill stood, brushed the grass clippings from his body, and began