The heart of the Imperium of Man was immersed in an almost frenzied joy.
The very air seemed to tremble, filled with the cheers of billions of throats that swelled into a deafening ocean of sound.
Banners—the Aquila, the emblems of the Primarchs' legions, the insignia of Terra's local guilds—covered every inch of space from the walls of the grandest Palace to the humblest alley like a surging tide of color.
The streets teemed with people, packed shoulder to shoulder, their faces wet with tears of pure excitement that bordered on religious fervor.
They craned their necks in anticipation, hoping only to glimpse those legendary beings: the Emperor's lost, loyal sons, demigods walking among humanity—the Primarchs themselves.
This "Celebration of Return," organized on the personal orders of Lord Regent Roboute Guilliman, was of a scale rarely seen even in Terra's history.
Enormous floating parade floats, adorned with sacred heraldry and Holographic Projections, drifted slowly above the city's main thoroughfares, casting down holy images of the Emperor and heroic likenesses of the Primarchs.
They were followed by a tangible display of the Imperium's might.
The elite regiments of the Astra Militarum marched in immaculate uniforms, their perfectly synchronized steps shaking the earth.
The Cadian Shock Troops, the Vostanian Firstborn regiments, the Mordian Iron Guard, the Tempestus Scions... each contingent embodied a different facet of the Imperium's endless wars, drawing distinctive cheers for the warriors of different worlds.
But when the Emperor's angels began their procession, the crowd's fervor reached its peak.
Led by the Primarchs themselves, the warriors of their sons' legions formed torrents of steel.
Guilliman's deep blue armour was like a moving beacon, and the ranks of Ultramarines behind him resembled a precision war machine, every plate of ceramite gleaming with the light of order beneath the sun.
Their