The fight finally reaches Ultramar, as promised!
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High in the Atheron Mountains of the Shrine World of Laphis in the Macragge System, unearthly energies stirred. They flowed in barely perceptible currents, whipping up dust and ash as they washed across a corpse-scattered plateau. Gradually they picked up pace, invisible forces tugging at the flames that licked from wrecked main battle tanks, and causing billowing smoke to curl into sluggish vortices. A handful of living warriors remained on that arid mountaintop, Chaos Space Marines clad in the brutal armour of the Black Legion. They stood amidst the mounded dead of recent battle, a few of their own fallen scattered amongst heaps of Ultramar Defence Auxilia. The Traitors checked handheld scrying devices and raised spiked Bolters, panning their weapons as they sought the source of the aetheric buildup. Harsh voices barked challenges through fanged Vox grills, while sensors swept the cobalt-blue sky above and the hulking forms of mountains that rose beyond the plateau's edge. Still no enemy revealed themselves.
With sudden fury the building energies roared, hurling Heretic Astartes from their feet. The surging power was dragged inwards to a tight point, and there it coalesced into a lance of pure psychic energy. The air swam around it, and from within spat a hail of firepower. Roars of anger and pain rose from the Traitors as holy bolter-shells cut through armour and shattered eye lenses. Blood sprayed dark across sun-bleached stone. Severed limbs encased in black Power Armour clanged to the ground as ancient Heretics were cut to pieces by the sudden firestorm.
As the Chaos Space Marines reeled, the combined forces of the Horusian and Celestinian Crusaders burst from the warp-tear forced open by the Soulrender.
Marshal Marius Amalrich and Inquisitor Katarinya Greyfax stormed out of the tear side by side, blades lashing out to shed Heretic blood once more. The winged figure of Saint Celestine soared above them, her Geminae Superia leaping at her side with Bolt Pistols blazing. The Battle-Sisters of the Order of Our Martyred Lady followed them into battle, guns flaring as they spat fire at the traitorous foe. Behind them all came the Magos Belisarius Cawl, skittering on his many mechanical legs as his precious auto-reliquary trundled along behind him. Skitarii and Kataphron Battle Servitors advanced with him, and the ground shook at the tread of a pair of towering House Taranis Knights that brought up the rear.
The Black Legionaries did not panic at this sudden assault, as lesser warriors might have. Their numbers were few, however, and their attackers had the advantage of complete surprise. Mass-reactive bolts blew a handful of Skitarii apart, and two of Leman Russ' children were beaten down and bludgeoned to death at close quarters. The last of the Traitors fell back in good order, determined to bear word of what they had seen to their masters. It was not to be; none escaped the howling firestorm as the Knights braced their legs and let fly with gatling cannons and armour-piercing missiles. Fire billowed, shrapnel flew, and the fleeing Traitor Marines were reduced to bloody tatters.
As quickly as it had begun, the one-sided battle was over. The loyalists were left standing amongst the freshly fallen dead with their weapons smoking in their hands. Terse orders were given, warriors jogging out to establish a bristling perimeter of guns around the portal-site.
Thus shielded, the leaders gathered beneath the harsh blue sky. Questions needed to be asked, and facts established. The Imperial Vox channels were found to be thick with clipped exchanges between Space Marine officers, Defence Auxilia regiments, starship captains and countless others. All were clearly engaged in fierce battle against Chaos forces, with dread names such as the Black Legion, the Deathguard, the Alpha Legion, the Iron Warriors and the Emperor's Children ringing through the Vox. Palls of smoke rose from horizon to horizon, while the skies above were crisscrossed with contrails. Ultramar, it appeared, was a realm plunged into a desperate war for survival.
Hot winds hissed across the barren plateau, bearing the distant rattle of gunfire and thump of explosions to Katarinya Greyfax's ears.
"Macragge is invaded," she said dourly. "This is grave news."
"You are labouring under a misapprehension," said Cawl. "According to my internal gyro-cartolog, we do not stand upon the surface of Macragge. We are located one hundred and sixty million miles spinward of our intended destination, allowing for variable positioning and empyric distort."
"This is the world Laphis, in the star system of Macragge," Horus answered. "In order to proceed, we need only locate representatives of the Ultramarines present upon this world."
"And what if they are disinclined to lend us their assistance?" prodded Sister Eleanor, one of Celestine's Geminae Superia. "We walk with Lord Horus at our side, and come uninvited to their world. Are they not as like to shoot us as to offer welcome?"
"I trust the sons of Roboute." Horus replied, seemingly confident in his brother's offspring to have the capability to discern friend from foe. "They will know our cause is just."
At Saint Celestine's urging, the Crusade forces moved off through the Atheron Mountains. Events were moving quickly now, accelerating like a river in full flood tide, and the pilgrims did not have the luxury of time.
From the heights of the plateau, a broad, packed-earth roadway led down the mountainside. Wide enough for several Baneblades to pass side by side, the roadway angled steadily downward between taller mountain peaks, and its entire length was lined with ancient stone supports. Atop these stood sombre statues of robed figures with the unmistakably oversized features of Space Marines. Lit braziers in the statues' hands trailed streamers of incense, and the allies saw heaps of devotional offerings and prayer papers piled at the effigies' feet.
As they travelled, the Crusaders kept their weapons ready and their eyes fixed warily on the horizon. They threaded their way between occasional wrecked tanks and scattered corpses, both of Defence Auxilia and traitorous Chaos Cultists. The bodies looked to have fallen a matter of solar hours earlier, their blood still congealing around them and local insects only just beginning to settle, but the pilgrims saw no sign of living beings along their road, whether friend or foe.
Archmagos Cawl assured his comrades that they were travelling in a favourable direction, their road carrying them towards a large urban centre and - if his Vox-thieves and the local cartographia inloads were accurate - the Ultramarines fortification that watched over it. The extraordinary allies spoke little as they pressed on. They listened instead to the sighing of the wind through the high places, the crunch of their footfalls on dry earth, and the distant clamor of battle borne to them through the thin mountain air.
Those sounds grew suddenly louder as the road wound around the towering flank of a sun-scorched mountain. Ahead, less than a Terran mile distant, a ferrocrete bastion loomed over the roadway, built into the mountainside itself. The stylised U of the Ultramarines was embossed proudly upon the structure's flank, and twin Icarus Autocannon arrays swivelled back and forth atop its battlement, barrels pistoning as they hammered fire into the sky.
The barrage of shots was aimed at a brood of Heldrake Daemon Engines. The draconic war machines swooped and circled, diving down to gout baleflame across the bastion's ramparts before soaring away again with soul-chilling roars.
One of the Heldrakes broke off in the direction of the pilgrims. Marshal Amalrich was the first to react, yelling for everyone to spread out and run for the cover of the Imperial bastion.
The Knights of House Taranis swiftly overtook them all, their Noble pilots spurring their mechanical steeds into a loping run. The massive war engines shook the ground as they advanced, guns swivelling skywards with ominous menace. One of the Knights bore an Icarus Autocannon array atop its broad carapace, and as the Heldrake swooped into range, the towering construct let fly. Avenger Gatling Cannons and Heavy Stubbers joined the fusillade, filling the air with a storm of projectiles that ripped the wing from the approaching Daemon Engine and sent it spinning down to detonate against the mountainside. Another of the roaring Heldrakes was blown apart as it banked around to attack the pilgrims, while the third broke off its attack and jetted away into the hard blue skies, dwindling until it was nothing more than a speck.
The Knights stomped to a halt, weapons ticking as they cooled, and the rest of the pilgrims quickly caught up to them. Moments later, the armoured portal set into the bastion's feet hissed as its pressure-locks disengaged. The heavy door swung open and a trio of Ultramarines Battle-Brothers emerged, Bolters raised. The conversation that followed was tense, but measured discipline prevailed. Perhaps if the allies had come to a world of a less rational or temperate Chapter, matters might have escalated towards violence.
For the Ultramarines, the combined presence of an Inquisitor and the Living Saint - albeit appearing less than cordial towards one another - was enough to offset the presence of the Arch-traitor at their side. Although to the people of Cadia and the entire Segmentum Obscurus Horus was deemed forgiven of his sins against mankind, not all received a clear picture of his intentions since the broadcasted vid-feeds never reached the outlaying systems beyond Cadia Prime. To them, Horus was still the Arch-traitor who plunged the galaxy into this dark age.
Saint Celestine explained that their mission was a divine pilgrimage ordained by the Emperor Himself, and that Archmagos Cawl and his autoreliquary must reach the Lord of Ultramar with all haste. At this, they relented.
The Living Saint smiled in an entirely unsurprised fashion when the Ultramarines revealed that a flight of Stormravens was even now en route to their bastion. The gunships had been requested to provide air interdiction against the packs of Heldrakes harassing fortifications in this region. However, two gunships could be spared to transport the leaders of the Crusade up to the Strike Cruiser Sword of Honour, which in turn could bear them on to Macragge. The Ultramarines explained that the Lord of Ultramar had, indeed, returned to the Fortress of Hera just solar days earlier. They would see Cawl and his allies there safely.
While they awaited the inbound gunships, the pilgrims split their forces.
As a gesture of good will to their hosts, Celestine asked the Battle-Sisters of Our Martyred Lady to remain on Laphis. Along with the Knights of House Taranis, they would place themselves at the disposal of the Ultramarines, and aid in the ongoing defence of the planet. So it was that, as the Ultramarines Stormravens burned hard for orbit just solar minutes later, they bore a much-reduced company up to the waiting Strike Cruiser.
Solar hours ran slowly into solar days. The omnipresent rumble of the ship's engines, and the sluggish stirring of artificial gravity and recycled air, became simple facts of existence. The astartes trained endlessly, even deigning to spar with Horus Lupercal himself. Inquisitor Greyfax, meanwhile - with the aid of Archmagos Cawl - was purged of the Necron Mindshackle Scarabs that had enforced her captivity. This process was effected over several solar days, and wracked the Inquisitor with terrible agonies as the invasive cyber-parasites were strained from her blood stream.
Despite the pain that she endured, Greyfax's iron will never faltered, nor did she show any but the most minor outward signs of pain. Instead, she concentrated on keeping a wary eye on Saint Celestine. In private, Greyfax was beginning to suspect that Celestine's apparent divinity was more than a sham. She had seen the Living Saint battle against Arch-heretics and twisted Traitors; she had seen her predict events about which she could not have known in advance; she had seen how the light of Celestine's faith repelled the wicked and brought new strength to the righteous. The same could be said of her opinions concerning the Penitent Son.
Yet Greyfax was an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus, a Witch Finder whose first duty was to doubt and to suspect all that seemed fair in case it concealed foulness at its heart. In Greyfax's long experience, true miracles were few and far between, and that which seemed a gift from the Emperor was, more often than not, a tainted temptation laid by the Gods of Chaos. Thus, even as the seeds of hope grew in her heart that Celestine might be uncorrupted, and even through her own agonies, Katarinya Greyfax kept watch over the Living Saint, alert for the slightest hint of duplicity.
Entering the resting place of Roboute Guilliman was like stepping into some doleful warrior's afterlife. The chamber itself was enormous, a vaulted sepulchre through which a Warlord-class Battle Titan could have strode without hindrance. Marble columns held aloft a ceiling of stained armaglass and obsidian inlaid with theldrite moonsilver. Guilliman's greatest deeds were depicted in spectacular friezes and statuary, arranged around the chamber and lit artfully by flickering electrosconces to lend the images the greatest possible gravitas. Huge braziers of devotional incense burned throughout the shrine, lacing the air with subtle scents, while from cherub-visaged laud hailers spilled a steady background murmur of martial arias and reverent prayer.
Despite the grandeur of the shrine, the pilgrims' eyes were drawn to the splendid figure enthroned within a pool of stark white illumination at one end of the chamber. There, upon a throne of marble, gold and finely worked adamantium, sat Roboute Guilliman. Esoteric machineries loomed over the Primarch's throne, thrumming and whispering as they fed remarkable energies through ribbed cables to enfold him in a rippling stasis field. Guilliman sat as though in repose, his eyes closed and his blood glinting jewel-like in a delicate necklace about his throat. Guilliman wore his finely-crafted Power Armour, still marred by the damage it had sustained during his final duel with the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim. Across his knees was laid a grand blade of prodigious size, the "Emperor's Sword", once wielded by the hand of the Master of Mankind Himself. Though the Primarch sat peacefully upon his throne, the force of his presence was palpable.
The pilgrims approached the throne in reverent silence, their Ultramarines escort marching alongside them and Cawl's auto-reliquary at their rear. The group drew to a halt near the foot of the steps that led up to the Primarch, where countless Ultramarines had knelt in communion over the millennia. Marneus Calgar moved forward to stand at the very base of the steps, bowing his head reverently to his Primarch for a moment before turning to face the assembled pilgrims. The sounds of furious battle were still audible, even in this sacred place, muffled and distant but inescapable.
Heavy footsteps preceded the other Primarch present, and all parted to give way to Horus as he approached his brother's throne. His eyes took in the familiar face of his kin, and a smile of pure serenity crossed his lips as he beheld the Perfect Son.
Calgar drew a deep breath, and then asked once more for Belisarius Cawl to state his business here. The Chapter Master had indulged his visitors thus far, but with a desperate battle raging outside his fortress' walls, he could offer them no more time or patience.
Magos Cawl inclined his head, and told an incredible tale. Cawl explained that, in the years before Guilliman was mortally wounded, the Primarch had summoned him into his confidence. Cawl's memengrams of that meeting were eroded and incomplete, but he believed that Guilliman had seen in him the potential for great things. The Magos had been charged with a great labour by Roboute Guilliman, one for which he would be richly rewarded with information that only a Primarch could provide. Cawl stated that he was not at liberty to reveal the nature of his task, forestalling Calgar's angry response by explaining that his labours had been divided into two distinct parts, and that he was here to deliver on the first of those. He brought a magnificent new suit of armour fit for the Ultramarines Primarch, one whose ancillary systems possessed the power to heal Guilliman's grievous wounds.
Tigurius spoke in a calm voice after considering this revelation for some time, asking Lord Calgar to trust his counsel and saying once more that he had seen hints of this future in his visions. It was a scene of anger and confusion, but it was about to get worse.
Marneus Calgar's Vox chimed insistently in his ear. Angrily, the Chapter Master accepted the priority Vox hail, but his words of rebuke died on his lips. Calgar's voice boomed over the commotion, "Look out!" his shout of warning coming a split-second before the stained armaglass of the shrine's ceiling exploded inward.
Shattered crystal filled the air, shards the size of Storm Shields embedding themselves in walls, floor and armoured bodies. A huge shape smashed through into the shrine, a plummeting mass of blue metal travelling at the speed of a runaway mag-train. Hurtling down at an oblique angle, an Ultramarines Thunderhawk gunship slammed into the shrine's floor and skidded out of control. The aircraft was badly damaged, flames pouring from rents in its hull, one wing ripped away. It slewed drunkenly across the shrine's floor, away from the pilgrims and their Ultramarines guards, ploughing through a marble column and bringing it down in a thunderous avalanche of precious stone. The Thunderhawk slammed into the shrine's far wall, demolishing a statue of Guilliman battling Alpharius, before listing onto its side with a deafening clang.
Even as the stricken vehicle was settling to a stop, its assault ramp burst open with a shriek of torn metal. Spilling from within came Chaos Space Marines in twisted armour of black and gold, spiked Jump Packs melded to their backs and deafening war cries ringing from their Vox grills. "BLOOD FOR THE BLOODGOD!"
"Fall upon them!" Horus shouted, bisecting a traitor in two with one swipe of Soulrender. "They must not touch my brother!"
The Ultramarines responded with instant efficiency, Bolters and Assault Cannons roaring to life. A hail of shots ripped into the Black Legion Raptors, puffs of blood bursting from their avian forms as they jerked and danced amidst the fusillade. Still the Ultramarines were not quick enough to prevent catastrophe. Screaming their defiance, a trio of Raptors jetted through the rain of fire to slam spiked icons into the temple's floor. Tall spears of adamantium and iron, the icons were festooned with macabre trophies and anointed in daemonic gore. Empyric energies whirled around them, and reality rent apart with the calamitous thunder of teleportation flares.
As the surviving Raptors leapt clear, a hulking wedge of Black Legion Chaos Terminators appeared, dozens of elite killers clad in spiked and tusked Tactical Dreadnought Armour.
With exemplary discipline, the Ultramarines coolly shifted their aim. Bolts and blasts tore into the Black Legion Terminators, ringing from their armour with cacophonous fury. Yet these were chosen warriors imbued with the daemonic gifts of the Dark Gods. Though several of the massive Black Legionaries stumbled or fell, the rest shrugged off the salvo and began a grinding advance, firing back as they came.
Marneus Calgar looked about himself aghast. The Shrine of Guilliman, the sacred heart of the Ultramarines Chapter, had been profaned by the minions of Chaos. Already a thunderous gunfight was erupting, Ultramarines hurling themselves into cover, returning fire at their attackers from behind columns and statuary. It was clear to all that the enemy were driving for the fallen Primarch. Calgar was forcibly reminded of a prior warning given by Aldrik Voldus in the astropathic communiqué he had sent to Macragge telling the Ultramarines that the Grey Knights would be offering their aid because they feared that Chaos planned an assault that could impact the entire Imperium's future. Calgar was still deeply suspicious of Cawl, the Arch-Traitor and those who had accompanied them, yet here was a threat far clearer and more diabolical than them. With a stern demand that his visitors refrain from acting until he had the situation under control, the Chapter Master activated the energy fields around his Power Fists, known as the Gauntlets of Ultramar, and strode into the fight.
He was not alone. Turning from the shrine, Saint Celestine drew her Ardent Blade. With a hymn of battle upon her lips and her Geminae Superia at her side, the Living Saint leaped toward the foe. Amalrich did the same, bellowing oaths of hate as he and his last few Battle-Brothers ran headlong at the Black Legionaries.
Grand Master Voldus, too, moved to join the fight. He bit off orders into his Vox bead as he advanced, loosing shots from his Storm Bolter even as he called in reinforcement from his Grey Knights Battle-Brothers. The Imperial counterattack met the Black Legion assault in the middle of the shrine with a rending crash of metal on metal, and blood fell like rain as the two forces tore into one another.
All throughout the shrine, tales of heroism and sacrifice played out. Inquisitor Greyfax took a glancing shot to her ribs in the opening moments of the fight. The bolt shell dented her armour, driving the air from her lungs, but by the grace of the Emperor it failed to detonate. Greyfax, seeing black spots before her eyes, dropped hastily into the cover of a marble pew only a few dozen Terran feet from the base of Guilliman's throne. Sucking down several deep breaths, Greyfax leant around the edge of the pew and fired off a tight burst of shells from her Condemnor Bolter. The rounds roared across the shrine, punching into the faceplate of a Black Legion Raptor and blowing his helm apart in a bloody spray.
Nearby, Marneus Calgar and Grand Master Voldus fought side by side, weathering the thunderous blows of their hulking enemies as they smashed and impaled one Traitor after another. As Greyfax watched, Voldus loosed a ruinous shock wave of psychic force from his outstretched gauntlet, hurling a Chaos Terminator through the air to demolish another towering statue. Still the Traitors pressed forward, and as they did so new warriors appeared to fill the gaps in their ranks. Teleport energies flared again, clearing to reveal a trio of Terminator-armoured Black Legion Sorcerers, flanked by monstrous warriors of fleshmetal and living weaponry. At the same time, Dreadclaw Drop Pods plunged through the shattered armaglass above, slamming into the ground behind the advancing Black Legionaries. From within spilled more of Abaddon's chosen warriors, Heretic Astartes including bellowing Khorne Berzerkers charging forward to join the fray.
The Ultramarines stood their ground, despite being increasingly outnumbered. Veterans rattled volleys of fire into the advancing foe, ripping Black Legionaries off their feet or blasting them into glowing ash with bolts of plasma. Blue-armoured Terminators duelled with their blackarmoured counterparts, Heavy Flamers spewing fire across adamantium and ceramite as Power Fists delivered crushing blows. Marshal Amalrich and his brothers hurled themselves in alongside the Ultramarines, howling Chainswords and lashing Lightning Claws reaping a tally of Traitor lives. One Black Templar fell to a Chainfist's swipe, but still his brothers fought on.
Cawl hunched, spider-like, over the controls of his auto-reliquary. The Magos' metallic fingers danced across runic keys, his Mechadendrites slithering from one socket-port to another while the Skitarii stood guard over him. Beside them stood the Ultramarines Chief Librarian, Warp light glowing from his eyes and weaving around his skull-topped stave. As Greyfax watched, several frothing Berzerkers charged at Tigurius. The Librarian barked a string of syllables that caused the Khorne-worshippers to implode in a crumpled mass of flesh and metal.
Greyfax pushed herself to her feet again, intending to dash across the open ground and command Cawl to cease in the name of the Holy Ordos of the Inquisition. At that moment, a stitching line of Autocannon fire marched along the top of the pew. Explosions of fire and shrapnel burst around the Inquisitor, hurling her from her feet. Greyfax fired back at her attackers, lashing out with her telepathic powers as she did so, but she was - for the moment - pinned in place.
Marneus Calgar swung his right gauntlet in a punishing arc, hammering it up through his enemy's guard and catching a Chaos Terminator square under the jaw. His enemy's helm disappeared in a blizzard of metal and blood, his corpse slamming down onto its back with bone-breaking force. Before the Traitor even hit the ground, Calgar was already turning on the spot, both gauntlets held out from his body and bolters thundering. The Chapter Master revolved in a half-circle, blazing rounds into the Black Legionaries on every side and eviscerating another of them with explosive shells. Blocking the return swipe of a crackling Power Mace, Calgar prepared to swing another titanic blow into his enemies. Then he caught sight of movement at the base of Guilliman's throne, and cold horror clenched in his chest.
Calgar saw the Martian Tech-priest step back from his auto-reliquary with the air of one completing a satisfying task. The dome-shaped device hummed forward, unfurling like the petals of some huge, carnivorous flower. The watching Chapter Master was at the wrong angle to see inside the machine, but he had a fleeting impression of glowing energies, unfurling Mechadendrites, clamping pincer-limbs and whirring bone-drills that filled him with revulsion.
The auto-reliquary was rising and stretching out, enfolding the Primarch's form in its metallic embrace.
"No!" bellowed Calgar, finding his voice. "I command you to stop! In the Emperor's name, Brother Tigurius, stop them!" The Chapter Master's dismay rose to new heights as Tigurius looked straight at him, and shook his head.
"Do it!", shouted the Chief Librarian, blazing psychic energies into the foe that pressed close all around. "And may the Emperor condemn me if you have played me false."
The auto-reliquary engulfed Roboute Guilliman and his throne entirely, runic designators and auto-lumen flickering in mesmerising patterns across its surface. As though spurred by the sight, the Black Legionaries redoubled the intensity of their attack. Horus, on the other hand, merely smiled at that satisfying turn of events.
Bellowing war cries, the Black Legion Terminators drove hard into their foes. Marneus Calgar was pushed back by his enemies, his battle plate cracked by the crunching blow of a Power Maul. Braving the Chapter Master's lashing gauntlets, a band of Traitor Terminators surrounded him entirely so that their brethren could break away towards the auto-reliquary. Gunfire echoed thunderously around the shrine as the Traitors let fly into Cawl's unfolded device. Bolts and shells alike exploded harmlessly as they struck hardened void shielding, unable to punch through the Archmagos' data-wards to damage the device behind.
The last of the Raptors formed into a single talon and bounded across the shrine. Their Jump Packs howled, and terrifying screams burst from their Vox grills. They were met by a thin line of Ultramarines Veterans, the Loyalist Astartes abandoning cover to interpose themselves between the Chaos assault troops and Guilliman's throne with Bolters blazing. Several Raptors fell, but the Ultramarines paid for their bravery as the enemy's Obliterators opened fire. Plasma blasts and Lascannon beams smashed the Veterans from their feet, reducing chest cavities to blackened craters and helmed heads to scatters of ash.
All across the shaking temple, the dwindling forces of the Imperium fought like lions to hold back their foes. Celestine still hacked and cut, span and leapt, leaving a trail of slain Black Legionaries in her wake. Archmagos Cawl sent blasts of searing energy ripping through the Chaos ranks while intoning binharic psalms to fortify his allies' weapons and wargear. Marshal Amalrich, accompanied now by just two remaining Sword Brethren, fought tirelessly atop a heap of Black Legion corpses. Teleport energies flared once more and a squad of Grey Knights Paladins flashed into being, bolstering their Grand Master's psychic defences with their own.
Horus was a magnificent sight on his own, as if reliving the days of his youth fighting alongside so many of his brothers and sons. Yet there was a certain desperation in every swing of his spear, for 'twas not a mere battle he fought today but a moment that would define him for all time. Roboute was no friend of his, that was much obvious in the days of the Great Crusade, but he was his brother nonetheless- he would protect him to his dying breath.
A single chime sounded, a clear, pure note that cut through the clangour like a knife. The next moment, the outstretched armatures of the auto-reliquary folded back with a gaseous hiss to reveal a sight of breathtaking splendour.
Where before Roboute Guilliman had sat, a pale, stasis-locked revenant, now the Primarch stood awake, alert and very much alive. His presence was immense, dominant as a thunderhead suddenly filling the shrine with its crushing pressure. Guilliman was clad in a magnificent new suit of Power Armour, an ornate masterwork that had travelled all the way from the forges of Mars within Cawl's auto-reliquary. In one hand the Ultramarines Primarch held the Emperor's Sword, lit now from hilt to tip with leaping flames, and in his eyes was a look of such murderous intensity that even the Loyalists within the shrine quailed to see it.
Only Horus spoke in the lull of that moment, and even he was reluctant to break the silence. "Roboute. My brother."
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