Gathering at the Eye of Terror

Even as great as the primarchs were, they still had limits to what they could endure psychologically.

After nearly losing Sanguinius and Curze forever, being abandoned by Lion, Russ, Jaghatai Khan, and Corax, losing Malcador, and then losing Dorn and Perturabo, Guilliman's mental defenses temporarily collapsed.

He felt that the universe bore him boundless malice. Why had it dumped this damned mountain of shit on him and made him shovel it alone, without end?

Even Guilliman could see no hope of completely setting right the Empire's mess.

At Sigismund's shout, Marius Gage and Titus Praetor, who had been standing guard outside, immediately rushed in.

The primarch's Invictarian Guard and medical team arrived at once as well.

The Invictarians skillfully propped up their father, preventing the unconscious Guilliman from choking on his own saliva.

Then the Apothecaries injected several doses of powerful adrenaline into the skin of Guilliman's neck, mixed with medical nanobots that could be metabolized afterward.

The Apothecaries also checked their gene-father's physical condition.

Mm. As usual, there was nothing seriously wrong with him. Just a slight arrhythmia.

Guilliman had only been unconscious for a few seconds before his sons brought him back around.

Yet the Lord of Ultramar looked utterly dead inside. He did not even have the right to collapse and play dead.

Gage and Titus were extremely tense at his side, terrified that their father had suffered some hidden injury or a psychic curse with delayed effects.

The Chief Librarian examined his gene-father again and again with his psychic arts, never growing impatient.

"All right, all right, my sons. I'm fine."

Guilliman waved away his children's concern. He needed to find out where Dorn and Perturabo had gone.

"Use your divination to determine where my two brothers went, and why they suddenly vanished."

Sigismund's gleaming bald