A New Storm Has Appeared

A new command center was established on the surviving orbital platform, where the hastily summoned Ultramarines and mortal crew moved quickly to carry out the Primarch's orders.

The journey from the docking bay to the Primarch's command chamber wasn't far, taking only about twenty minutes.

Loci walked with Ventanus on the orbital platform, the low-gravity environment allowing him to take longer strides with each step.

Ultramarines holding Promethium flamers were everywhere, incinerating the bodies and belongings left behind by the Word Bearers. Specialized servitors then collected the ashes for centralized disposal.

"This is one way to eliminate Warp contamination. According to the intelligence we have, if mortals come into contact with their remnants, unknown corrupting events are highly likely to occur."

"The wars of Kaos have shown us too many things that cannot be explained by Imperial dogma. We must constantly learn and refine our concepts."

Ventanus spoke, and Loci noticed that the resilient Captain was more relaxed than before, perhaps due to the end of the major conflict, or perhaps due to the large doses of sedatives and healing agents he had received.

"What's the situation on the ground?"

"Everyone is evacuating underground. Stellar radiation on the surface is surging. Mortals without protective gear wouldn't survive for even a minute," Ventanus sighed.

"Living underground is at least better than dying in agony."

The two soon arrived at Guilliman's temporary command post. Several honor guards, still carrying the scent of gunpowder, stood guard at the entrance. Their gazes were sharp, and their weapons were kept at the ready.

After confirming his identity, Loci entered the command center, which had been converted from the orbital dock's control tower.

With his armor removed, the Lord of the Ultramarines, his chest bare, sat on a metal chair. Legion apothecaries were treating the Primarch's wounds: horrific injuries caused by psychic powers.

"You're here."

Even while seated, Guilliman was much taller than Loci standing. He had regained his usual calm and approachable demeanor, nodding kindly.

"It seems you've achieved victory. Congratulations."

Loci carefully observed Roboute, who wore a laurel of victory. His facial features were as sharp and defined as if carved by an axe, and his pair of sapphire-blue eyes were sincere and earnest, allowing one to see his innermost thoughts.

The Lord of the Ultramarines' hair had scorch marks, but under the laurel, it added a touch of heroic quality.

"My friend, it's not you, but us. It was you who brought crucial intelligence from the veterans of Istvaan V, granting us the most precious reaction time," Guilliman corrected, shaking his head.

Hearing this, Loci chuckled. It seemed this Primarch truly valued him, an unknown individual.

He recalled the records he found in Kaos's database. This Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion was born on Macragge, a world with a Senate and dual Consuls.

Furthermore, the Primarch's adoptive father, Konnor, was assassinated by another Consul.

History was repeating itself with astonishing coincidence ten millennia later, which Loci found rather surprising.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a Space Roman? If you'll forgive my directness, it's very similar to my impression of Rome."

Loci stared at Guilliman for a long time. Just as the Primarch began to wonder if something alien had gotten onto his head, Loci suddenly burst out laughing.

"Your father must have modeled you, and your Legion, after Rome."

"If you are referring to that ancient kingdom that existed in Terra's distant past, then I should have some knowledge of it," Guilliman said, not angered by Loci mentioning the Emperor. "Can you tell me about your origins?"

Loci, male, age unknown. He was first sighted on Istvaan V, piloting a starship that appeared to be from the Golden Age, rescuing those veterans.

This was the intelligence Guilliman had obtained from the Iron Hands and Raven Guard; those warriors had not concealed it.

Humanity had lost too much of its records from the distant past. Even Guilliman knew very little about that glorious era. Only the surviving historical texts on Macragge and the extraordinary technology could offer a glimpse.

And now, facing someone who very likely came from that era and was standing before him alive, Guilliman displayed patience and tolerance.

"I am merely a remnant from the distant past. Back then, humanity couldn't leave its homeworld and could only imagine what the universe truly looked like," Loci sighed, recalling the past.

In those days, humanity was ignorant of the darkness of the universe, even naively sending signals to the stars, trying to find traces of other life.

And when humanity finally found extraterrestrial life, it was followed by brutal wars. Through constant expansion, humanity gained sufficient living space and territories spanning half the galaxy.

"Then what are you going to do? Coming from the past to the future, you must have your own mission," Guilliman continued to ask.

He observed the man's micro-expressions and body language. His ears could even discern the sound of his heartbeat, distinguishing truth from lies through it.

"I am merely an executor of a plan. You don't need to worry about my intentions. My only mission is to prevent the extinction of humanity. I must ensure the continuation of human civilization."

Everything he said was true, Guilliman confirmed in his mind.

"Are you implying that humanity is now on the brink of destruction?" the Primarch retorted.

"Yes. I slept in a stasis field for ten thousand years. During that time, humanity's Golden Age ended, and the period that followed is what you call the Dark Age of Technology."

Before communicating with those Space Marines, Loci had believed that the Dark Age of Technology spoken of by present-day humans was the Golden Age. However, after comparative analysis, he was certain that the era he arrived from was by no means the so-called Dark Age of Technology.

Human civilization during the Golden Age was enlightened, still retaining the pioneering and progressive spirit from the colonization of the galaxy. Human civilization as a whole remained rational and upward-looking.

The true Dark Age of Technology was the era when technology was misused, tech-heretics ran rampant, and human gene sequences were wildly modified. Those Goldens, who could modify themselves without hesitation, had elevated human civilization to its peak, but they had also lost their most important humanity.

"According to some information I've obtained, at the end of the Dark Age of Technology, the most reliable Automatons launched a rebellion. After the rebellion was quelled, humanity entered the Age of Strife, where communication was severed, but I still hadn't woken up."

"The computational power of Red Alert is sufficient to calculate the general future trajectory. It determined that humanity is currently experiencing a disaster more dangerous than the Automaton rebellion."

"That is indeed bad news," Guilliman said, not showing much dejection, or rather, his dejection had been exhausted in the war.

Three Legions were completely destroyed. The Word Bearers had largely achieved their objectives. The Thirteenth Legion suffered heavy losses, with more than half of its fleet destroyed. This Warmaster's most feared Legion had its strength largely crippled. On this day, Guilliman had lost too much.

"What are your plans now? Will you continue to Terra or remain in Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds?"

Guilliman gazed at Loci, realizing this was an excellent opportunity. That starship possessed backups of a vast amount of ancient technology, and he could fully utilize that technology to field a more formidable army.

"I believe my AI's calculations are correct; humanity has reached an utterly dire precipice. I intended to transmit the information and then depart. Every second I linger on the battlefield is fraught with danger."

"While the destructive power displayed in this war isn't yet a threat, the possibility still exists."

Loci's words sounded extremely grating. Guilliman realized this individual held almost no sense of identification or belonging with the human Imperium.

Or rather, he wasn't entirely the same as present-day humanity.

And the primary reason he was willing to lend a hand in the Kaos War was likely out of shared humanity.

"I will continue my mission to preserve human civilization. I may go to Earth to see my homeworld one last time, and then I will distance myself from the war, perhaps leaving the galaxy entirely. In any case—I must ensure my vessel is in a safe environment."

Loci could detect Guilliman's attempt to persuade him to stay, but he had to consider the risks of remaining. The Ultramarines' Five Hundred Worlds were located in the eastern sector of the galaxy, not too far from humanity's homeworld.

And Warmaster Horus, in his betrayal of his father, would inevitably need to conquer Terra and annihilate all resistance within the galaxy.

If he remained in the Five Hundred Worlds, and Horus achieved ultimate victory, everything he had established here would be reduced to ashes.

In the vastness of the cosmos, an individual's power was too insignificant. Even if he could replicate the technologies stored on the Red Alert, he had no confidence in confronting a galaxy-spanning human Imperium, especially when this nascent human Imperium was a puppet of malevolent Warp entities.

The forces supporting them from behind were malevolent Warp gods, whose power no one knew the true extent of.

Was the madness and eventual destruction of the Dark Age of Technology inextricably linked to those Warp entities?

"In your eyes, is your divinely appointed mission—to preserve the spark of humanity—simply to flee with this vessel, a repository of human ingenuity's miracles? To flee the galaxy, to flee humanity's home?"

Guilliman's tone was heavy as he expressed a completely different opinion.

"I cannot agree. Your actions are, in fact, an evasion of your duty."

"Perhaps your vessel can navigate without the Astronomican's light, allowing you to sail beyond the dark galactic rim. If you are fortunate, you might settle in an undiscovered star system and rebuild human civilization."

Guilliman stood up. His height reached nearly four meters, and Loci felt as if he were facing a wall.

"But what of the billions of suffering humans in the galaxy? Are they to be your sacrifices? If everyone dies, and only the spark you preserved remains, what meaning does that hold?"

"There's an old saying on Old Terra: 'When the skin is gone, where will the hair attach?'"

"Humanity has erupted into civil war, but things have not yet deteriorated to an irrecoverable point. Please, give humanity some faith. You know you have the capability."

The Primarch exerted an immense pressure, and Loci felt Guilliman's voice resonating in his mind.

"What right do you have to judge me? I know you people despise and hate Artificial Intelligence, and the vast majority of the technology on my ship relies on AI to function. Why should I trust you, trust that you won't destroy my vessel once you've acquired enough technology?"

Hearing Loci's response, Guilliman understood why the other party was so resistant to cooperation.

The Imperium's absolute vigilance towards Artificial Intelligence prevented Loci from lowering his guard.

He knew it would be difficult to bridge the gap with words alone, but he had to try to earn Loci's trust.

Guilliman spoke, waving a hand. "My friend, perhaps you can no longer leave. A rapidly intensifying Warp storm is upon us. The entire Five Hundred Worlds has lost contact with the outside. I believe that even your vessel from the Golden Age would struggle to escape in the face of a storm of this magnitude."

The Word Bearers had not only heavily damaged the Ultramarines but had also used the opportunity to perform a large-scale ritual. Warp storms were raging, making long-range Warp travel and communication impossible at this moment.

"Give me some time. I will prove that the Five Hundred Worlds can tolerate your existence, including your vessel," Guilliman said solemnly, swearing "by the Emperor's name, and by the authority of the lord of the Five Hundred Worlds."