Watching the barge Uslan had mentioned descend from the sky, Narek immediately grabbed his primary weapon—a modified Brontes-pattern sniper boltgun—slung it casually across his back, and sprinted desperately toward the landing site.
He carried an Aeldari talisman gifted by Uslan, which effectively reduced the planet's gravitational pull on his body, allowing him to race across the desert and wasteland world at speeds comparable to a jet vehicle.
By the time Guilliman, Uslan, and the others emerged from the ship, Narek had already reached the vicinity of the landing site, claimed a high vantage point, and trained his sniper rifle on the hatch.
Uslan raised the staff in his hand and sent another psychic signal to Narek, confirming his identity.
"It's me. You'd better put that gun down. Right now, it's nothing more than a fire poker. It serves no purpose except to anger people," Uslan's voice rang in Narek's ears.
Narek's gaze immediately locked onto Guilliman at the head of the group. His pupils constricted slightly as uncontrollable shock rose within him.
All he had learned from Uslan's message was that there would be a "human representative." He had never expected the Primarch himself.
"Roboute Guilliman?"
Barthusa Narek's voice was full of disbelief.
Then the Word Bearer saw the army of cloned Primarchs behind Guilliman. Eighteen Primarchs stood before him.
"This... Uslan, you never told me you were bringing an entire... Primarch delegation!?" His eyes remained fixed on the Aeldari seer, demanding an answer.
He saw clone Lorgar, but his sharp instincts immediately told him that this was not the Lorgar he wanted to kill.
The Great Word Bearer had long since been forced into daemonhood and become something neither human nor monster. How could he possibly still look as he once had?
Uslan nodded slightly. "The circumstances are unusual,