Flames.
Boundless flames consumed Terra. Everywhere he looked, there was blood and corpses.
Great ships had become debris drifting through space, and valiant warriors were now nothing more than bloody corpses by the roadside.
And the one responsible for it all was the man before him.
"My foolish brother, our father abandoned humanity long ago. All he cares about is his grand ambition to become a god."
The figure stepped over the corpses of the Adeptus Custodes, blood dripping ceaselessly from his Power Claw.
His eyes glowed red, and an evil, filthy aura poured from him without pause.
"Now join me. Together, we will crush our father's wicked ambition of godhood."
Guilliman looked at Horus and the brothers gathered behind him.
Mortarion, Perturabo, Angron.
And Fulgrim.
Guilliman staggered to his feet, tightening his grip on the Emperor's Sword.
"I do not know what our father intends."
"But you, Horus, are tearing the Imperium apart and destroying humanity's future."
Horus sneered.
Suddenly, his expression changed, then contorted in pain.
A blade unlike any human weapon pierced his chest. In the blink of an eye, the traitor Primarchs vanished without a trace.
Aeldari warriors appeared on the battlefield and began attacking the traitor Legions.
An enormous Phantom Titan advanced with impossibly nimble strides, swinging its blade to halt the advance of the god-engines.
Elegant Aeldari warriors emerged from the void, slaughtering the unsuspecting Chaos Warbands with their weapons.
Guilliman stared in astonishment at the figure standing atop the ruins.
"Stand up, human. This is not your time to fall."
Aeldari?
"Xenos, what are you doing here?" Guilliman demanded.
Yvraine twirled her blade with graceful confidence, flicking off the blood before giving him a disdainful smile.
"Against the great enemy in the darkness, we should have more reason to cooperate than to disagree."