love y'all
Also, fem Lorgar is now Lorgea, because Lorgaria is dumb and cringe.

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The first thing he did once he got out of Terra was address his troops.

His forces. His sons, his people, the forces of Ultramar, and the Blue Fist, as his army he commanded through the Eye of Terror was nicknamed.

All of them got told one thing.

To disperse, carrying forth what he had devised quickly as a manual to strengthen Imperial worlds and holdouts, they had a time to refresh before the storm brewed stronger than ever.

Slaanesh and his forces would step out from the daze of unending power and attack in full force.

Thus the Ultramarines in their entirety bar its reserve companies and Cato Sicarius dispersed amongst the Imperium each trooper hopefully serving as a marvelous aide for local governors. The Ultramar auxilia was divided, for some would follow the step of the angels of the Emperor, and others would go back home.

His army would take a position taking patrol on the edges of the Eye of Terror, letting other units cycle in and out to maintain authority.

The fear that in any moment a tear in reality might bring forth untold numbers of demons ached him, so he hoped that an industrial basis, and real armies might be wrought from the barely working messes that plagued the Imperium.

Meanwhile, he needed to be quick. Lest he be found by enemy forces deciding to step again into the fray of the 42nd Millenium.

Barely a flotilla, ten ships not counting additional vessels carrying forces were to travel to nowhere else than Baal, to meet up with Dante.

Communications were established again with Nihlus, but not even the Emperor was able to keep a mental connection with them in the strength necessary to relay messages efficiently. Guilliman would have to reinforce humanity's presence across the Cicatrix Maledictum, and talk to the Chapter Master by himself.

At the helm of Macragge's Honour he saw how the hole being torn in the darkness of space above the birthplace of humanity called for them.

It was a dangerous task, for he knew, the bridge between the two sections of the galaxy across the warp would be threatened by any possible new movement by the Prince of Pleasure.

And yet onwards they went.

Full steam ahead, to the unknown.

Beside him, Cato Sicarius was anxious, clenching and relaxing his fists constantly.

It was a sensation shared by everybody on this small taskforce, they were barely enough to fend off if any attack came; and yet Guilliman knew they were the most he could send to this mission and not endanger the position of Imperium Sanctus now that it had new territories, and a new enemy.

While the unimaginable torsion of light in the dark reflection of the galaxy illuminated the bridge; its horribly beautiful contradictory landscapes ingraining themselves on the eyes of the humans; Guilliman spoke to calm him, hoping that his words would find themselves soothing the souls of those around him too.

"Worry not, Sicarius," - He began, speaking as he would do to the offsprings he'd never have due to the nature of his duties. - "for we will come out on top, we just have to coordinate with Dante, make sure he delays the attack of the enemy onto his strongholds for long enough for supply routes to be established, his armies to form; and the walls against Chaos to be erected."

The Marine though, held his voice, meekly answering to his Primarch. - "But father, I, Cato Sicarius, am not fearful that if we reach Baal we will succeed in all f our gals, as we always do," - He then gestured to the warp around them, the mess, the storms, the screeching souls the gellar field protected them from. - "it is of this journey that I, Cato Sicarius, am preoccupied."

He breathed in a few times, feeling the coarse tact of the armor he shouldn't be wearing; for ultimate victory, peace, should've been his, finally relieving him of the burden of battle.

His head shifted from up to down. - "It's true," - He said, resigned, for a moment closing his eyes as he pondered. - "and yet it is our only way. So we shall conquer our destiny. Chaos is the only enemy now as far as we know, thus wether we engage them now or in the steps of the Golden Throne we shall carry on." - He sighed, feeling a creeping feeling along his back, as if his words would one day come back to bite him. - "Trust in yourself, for only the actions of oneself can overcome the challenges placed by the universe.

Soon, his eyes laid open once more, glancing to see how his words had changed his mind.

Maybe it was the warp affecting his mind, because he swore he saw the unequivocal trace of a smile on the helmet of Cato.

"Thank you, father, I, Cato Sicarius, am faithful that you shall lead us to victory, I'm sorry for doubting you."

A small huff of air left him as he heard the word 'father'. He'd never get accustomed to it, the feeling of eeriness that comes from the hint of truth on that word contrasting with the warmth it gave him.

His gaze then sat upon the rest of the crew manning the systems, making sure there were no inconveniences, that the navigator reported no issues approaching, all weapons ready of course; though they hoped they wouldn't use them today, or the weeks that this travel took.

He had nothing to do, but to ponder, he had organized everything well enough so that no ship needed assistance during travel. Thus he just stood there, closing his eyes again, his mind beginning to trace up countless plans, different methods, ranging from economics systems for planets last to most Imperial Archives to how he could insert production of stubguns for the populace of hive cities near the frontlines to provide a militia in the case of war.

Oh it was such a mess, so much needed to be done; but he knew he could do it, and that everyone around him was working now precisely for that.

The biggest gift humanity had was its ability to organize, logistics shall be his perfection!

A smooth sailing through the inmaterium let him just be alone; at least for now, as they'd travel further down irreality they'd stray further from the power of the Astronomicon. The Emperor might not be bound to the Golden Throne anymore, but the ships of his Empire were. Which meant that eventually he'll face the knives of the enemy piercing the shields of his ship.

Or so he feared.

For after what his mind told him was a mere hour; he saw how his ship saw reality once more, the eternal black accompanied by the wake of nebulae and the flurry of stars that decorated the galaxy; all around his flotilla once more.

In front of him a planet. He had helped to protect it before, he had saved it from the Tyranids, and he was happy to see that the repair jobs had been kept up.

The helm of Imperium Nihlus.

Countless fleets made this place feel like Terra or Ultramar, for the feeling that a standing military protected this bastion of humanity peered through every hull dancing around the void.

His ears were soon filled by countless songs, for all frequencies began flaring poetry, songs coming off from the workshops of the neophytes and initiates of the Blood Angels and some of its new successor chapters polluting the system.

Below him, the planet once seen as a death world, a penance for their inability to save their genefather was now being turned into a floral destination for colonists;a remembrance that the unwielding virtue under the skin of our species glows brighter than any sin we have committed.

Such were the verses going around.

He thanked the Emperor, or maybe the newfound strength of his kind for this so quick passage through the inmaterium.

"Lord Guilliman, the Fortress of Baal is hailing us!" - A deck officer shouted, her voice eerily snotty, despite her being a somewhat young lady.

Looking around he noticed that Cato Sicarius, and the other ultramarines had left the bridge. Weird. He'd expect them to be fawning around him, or asking him for guidance or stories from times bygone, as they used to after the wave Slaaanesh brought upon this universe.

Nevertheless, he took a step forth, a smile on his face. - "Link us up, Lieutenant."

With a gruff, she nodded and soon the image of a man in golden armor appeared on a screen in his personal command console. Its face was replaced by a mask showing the slightest of smirks, though it had a hint of smugness behind it.

The crests of a sun around him, the regal paraphernalia on the background, including a few servants of the chapter painting with oils forgotten by most people; made him feel like he was seeing a warrior-philosopher from the age of strife. It was a regal sight, one accompanied by an eternal silence which suddenly got interrupted by a calm voice.

"Primarch," - The man behind the mask began. - "it's a boon to see thou here." - Then, he bowed, showing respect. - "Might you find our assistance to be impeccable for the purposes you have to lay us for."

Diligence, such a prime virtue. Roboutte nodded. - "Indeed, Dante, I've come forth under the orders of the Emperor to help you, I've brought forth machinery to be reproduced in your domain and then be scattered around Nihlus. That along with new doctrines for the bureaucracy and military."

"Might I ask why, my Lord? We are already preparing to combat the Tyranid menace, we've seen what they're capable of doing, I think we'd need more men, not better machinery."

"I disagree, for even if we place more men in the frontlines, they'll start to push, the powers of Chaos have grown tenfold even as ours has augmented too," - Roboute retorted, understanding the marine's reasoning but disagreeing on the root of the debacle. - "you need stronger armies to defend key planets while you reinforce and rotate troops, for that one needs not elite forces, one needs masses of proficient formations; I assure you, I'd rather have a million guardsmen trained to use scopes than a company of marines."

As he spoke, the grin of Dante slowly disappeared. And the Primarch continued.

"I understand you have your methods, but strengthening Nihlus is something that can't be done with grace, it's time for us to react properly, like Terra of old."

"Hmn."

He was left to ponder for some seconds, but then a warm smile reappeared on the Chapter Master, who gracefully bowed.

"You speak truly, I can't really discuss your decisions, it might not be what I would like, yet your methods indeed shine as the songs from the beforetimes did. I know I'll have to see your plans first, but I trust that thou hast concocted something only your father could rival."

Honored, Guilliman closed his eyes. - "I dare not make that comparison, my father had a different approach, he wanted to use the Astartes as his main force, for the Guard was a force to at most, aid; for human life is so precious as to value it even in battle; but today we see ourselves forced to equip citizens as best as we can to defend those behind us." - He then opened his eyes and met his gaze. There was an understanding, the slight deviations in each other's thoughts merely a distraction from the infernal debate that was war.

"I expect you then in the fortress to show me some of the machines, and to show me your plans for the industry and planning of this section of your Father's domain."

Guilliman felt odd when he heard 'your father', it was eerie in a way he couldn't describe.

"Indeed, thank you for welcoming me."

After that, the communication was closed, there was no time to waste, he was sure that they'd make all the preparations so that he could land a titan if he wanted.

Thus, he turned around, and glared at the same officer as before. Who eagerly saluted him as he walked by.

"Come with me," - He ordered, and sure enough she followed diligently behind him, her face looking tired, annoyed. - "call around the engineering sections fifteen, third, and seventh, in that order, tell them to go into the fifty-eighth air transport wing, tell them to bring all equipment marked as 'demonstrative', and be sure to..."

He stopped mid-phrase as they exited the main section of the bridge and he noticed that his custodes were at each side of the door, not standing in front of the doorway, serving themselves as gates for entrance.

He didn't see Cato Sicarius anywhere either.

In that second he had already an answer to all of this, and so he kept walking forth. - "As I was saying, bring the five million three hundred thousand-... Bring the Atrerran Aquilean battalion with me." - He ended up saying, saving oxygen by not following the naming nomenclature of the unit, something which the officer caught, her face shifting further into annoyance.

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Landing around the Fortress he saw many things, for one, the surface of the death world was slowly turning to a lush green world, the terraforming probably a cause of the usage of the world as a bureaucrat house of Nihlus forcing the local administration to make it more hospitable for life; or the sheer power of humanity that irradiated into the soil.

Whichever it was, it made it a vivid image of what Mars supposedly was in the middle of its terraforming back when humanity knew nothing of the warp.

Certainly, the air at least was breathable without any consequence for the people he brought.

Swarms of craft had brought containers full of diverse machinery, from articulated arms for production lines to sets of chemistry with chemically pure alloys to let planet-side industry make sure of the quality of their production.

Hundreds of engineers, lawyers, economists, philosophers, chemists, physicians and mathematicians had come forth with him, quickly settling on whichever Blood Angels or other Astartes were nearby to begin teaching them in what Guilliman had outlined.

By the end of the week he was sure that Dante himself would send his battlebrothers in envoys around Nihlus just as Guilliman had done with his 'sons'.

Yet he had a main course.

Surprisingly for him, he hadn't brought any of his sons, nor had he brought his Custodes, just soldiers from a forgotten planet, no name to them bar the new training they had received under the Ultramar Auxilia. They were around him, or protecting the civilian envoys, their duty unwavering as they didn't even stop to see the marvels, the beauty product of the chapter around them, from beautiful Dorian columns to gardens of plants most had never seen before.

Next to him, the Lieutenant he had made into his impromptu secretary.

He walked to the main room following a lavender carpet with golden streaks embroided into it, a dome, a basilica where initiates were painting, others wrote, others played songs he hadn't heard while he talked to Dante through the intercom.

Meanwhile, the man himself was in front of a sculpture, a scene, it was of Sanguinius under the Emperor's arms, he was kneeling, his face blurry, for he did not know the face of the master of humanity.

It was intricate, delicate, each swoop of the chisel had its depth perfectly measured as to evoke something beyond what the human eye could comprehend, it was mystical, a sensation of dread that found itself on the nerves of the men and women behind Guilliman. Some went as far as crying at the sight of the scene.

Even Guilliman could feel it, it reeked of the essence of the warp that transpired from human emotion.

He knew that if he wasn't there, all of the Atrerrans would be collapsing to their knees. For once he was aware of how his own aura, like the one his father had when he walked into battle.

This also gave him confidence, for he knew they would be following his every word.

Dante, once the march of the Primarch stopped, left his chisel and hammer on a mythril table dotted with various instruments. Then, he slowly walked to the Primarch.

Once a mere feet away, he began to bow.

That's when Guilliman had enough.

His hands reached for the sides of Dante's helmet, and he pushed his palms together in one strike.

For one moment there was resistance from his armor, but Guilliman's might was greater than before, ceramite wasn't an issue now.

Grey matter and bone splattered his armored gloves, and his chest, some blood dotting his face.

The initiates stopped working, his own men were astonished.

Without breaking a sweat he then forced the headless body to the ground and stepped on its midriff, severing it and causing the ground below, the regal lavender carpet now dirty with his remains and cut open from his attack.

He then turned his head to his Lieutenant, and he stretched his right arm to catch her head.

As this occurred, in the eyes of the Atrerran soldiers the body of Dante transformed into some kind of satyr, with feathers for fur, following unnamed patterns that constantly changed, following an azure color that held within beads of indigo and purple; all contained by an armor that instead of pure protective golden seemed to be some kind of skintight attire with many open views to different parts of the body of this beast.

Male or female it didn't matter, for they knew it still tried to be evocative, if not for the fact that it had been broken by their Primarch.

And sure enough, as he was about to catch the Lieutenant's head, her face of annoyance shifted into preoccupation and then annoyance again.

Her teeth gritted as she somehow was able to push the Primarch away, with a shockwave that suddenly revealed the celestine light that contrasted with the usual sight of Baal. The basilica then showed countless artworks depicting marvelous machinery, thinkers of races long dead, large texts enveloping from the floor to the windows with different notations from psychology to paradoxes whose mere existence could drive anyone who read them crazy.

Moreover, the Initiates screamed, for they abandoned their carapace and turned into beasts as apocalyptic as old lovecraftian myths or flightless birds.

This was the inheritance of Tzeench that Slaanesh had taken.

And who else to command this attempt at trickery than...

"When did you figure it out?" - The Lieutenant asked, her voice moot of tone, in such a way that anyone who heard it could also swear that she spoke no words at all.

Guilliman, recovering from the push, answered. - "Dante would never not have chants while in his own fortress, not even during a contact with me."

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" - She answered with venom in her voice, closing her right eye. - "You had to fucking ruin it, huh? Playing games with me?" - Coarse language came out, she was livid.

Guilliman readied himself, he unsheathed the sword of the Emperor, and with a mere thought his soldiers had already formed around, taking sight at the demons around.

Those outside, with the engineers, did so too.

He had chosen them precisely because that way they could neutralize the influence of Chaos by having their souls be directly guided by Guilliman. A trick his father had used extensively before.

Now he could also hear the pleads for help and calls for him from his 'sons' who where being kept away from their father by the powers of the warp that had clouded everyone, creating an entire fake reality to lure him.

This wasn't Baal, this was a planet in the Warp, they had been tricked by her.

For the body of the Lieutenant broke, and instead was a woman with red skin, taller than Guilliman, her torso bare, only armored in her thighs, shoulders and wrists by metal of colors unable to be seen by anyone's eyes.

She was muscular, but it was obvious that her form seemed lithe, her breasts conservative in comparison to some of the demons around, or Lorgea.

Feathers around her, on her diadem, decals of turquoise gems spread through the robes that covered portions of her body and her monstrous, eagle-like feet.

And yet he knew, that this thing that once was his brother, was as dangerous if not more so.

Then, she spoke once more. This time, her voice was snotty, nerdy if you may, and she had an obvious disdain deep within her. So much so that her voice cracked sometimes.

"You fucking prude, you lethargic little bastard." - She gritted her teeth for a bit after saying that. - "You and your stupid autism fucked me over once more, little brother." - Her wings then spread ut, magnificent, the sight of galaxies far away flaring as her feathers each shined with brightness none could ever comprehend so their brains interpreted them as mere sparks. - "WHY COULDNT YOU JUST STAY PUT!? I ALMOST HAD YOU!"

After her screech, she breathed in, she didn't seem to want him to talk, but her actions said otherwise.

"Magnus y-" - He began, but he was cut off by a loud shriek.

"MY NAME IS MAGNA NOW YOU MOUTH-BREATHING GNASHGAB!" - She then huffed. - "Don't you FUCKING DEADNAME ME!"

After that, he rose his eyebrows and breathed in, answering as soon as she retracted her claws and eyed him up, as if waiting for him to talk again.

"Well, Magna," - Once he said that he could swear he saw her shake up and have her cheeks go a single tone of red darker. - "I'm sorry that your plan failed, but now I shall strike you down, like I should have done before." - He said, no sentiment within him, only duty.

She snorted. - "Pft, you say that, and yet you seem punier than you did. No real power, even as the desire that gives me power also enshrines your strong body." - She then extended her arms, and the 'initiates' began surrounding the Imperial forces, bladed weapons all around, or tentacles that would serve to bash against them all. - "I came to get you, and that is what I shall do, you're mine Roboute."

That's when it clicked, that's where the Freudian slip appeared.

He had to seize momentum, strengthening his stance, levying his troops as they felt secure thanks to his mere presence; he spoke. - "And again, your arrogance shall be your undoing, I could believe the threat from someone like Angron, but I can defeat you, sister."

If pure hatred could be put into a singularity that caused all other emotions to subdue, it would have happened on her lone eye.

The Cyclopean demon screamed and rushed to Guilliman, who almost struck her down, if not for the fact that her claws didn't break the skin of his cheeks as she held him, utter ire showing through her wrinkled crimson face.

Her voice was shaky, but nevertheless she spoke, with condescending spite. - "First, papa smurf, it's ANGRESS, DON'T DEADNAME HER EITHER!" - After that she looked down, as if her words weren't supposed to come out. - "And she can't with you, you mumbling buffoon, when she fought you before you still could strike her, now that you're stronger she won't even have a chance... I am the one who can kill you, right now!"

The irony would've been heavy if it wasn't because he immediately pointed it out. - "Then why don't you try it?"

She gulped and took a step back. - "Why the fuck do you care if I kill you or not? I know I can, you're not worthy, I can subdue you instead, and humiliate you, instead."

He took a clearer stance, the blade now igniting. - "Then do it, try it so I can continue on with my duty, sister."

Her fists clenched. - "Don't tell me what to do, it isn't like I wanted to come and do this, nuisance. Don't think that you're that important."

Those from the human troops suddenly began seeing how the daemons in front of them began flaring their bodies at them, but every time they glanced, they covered themselves up and threw insults or covered themselves up.

Some even saw letters, papers and papyrus thrown at them, with different things, from love confessions to words of hate followed with questions like 'What's your name?' all in a confusing mess that threatened the sanity of the people there. Truly a mindfuck only Tzeenchian demons could make.

"Plus, where's the fun in that? Angress would've just jumped at you and tried to ride you, I meanwhil-" - She then noticed where her speech was going so she corrected it. -"Will properly catch you and bring you to Slaanesh! Of course..."

"You're as complicated as ever, sister." - Guilliman said, and then he tried dashing towards her, trying to embed his sword int the chest of the demon, but she flew back with her wings sending powerful airwaves against him.

"Hey!" - She protested. - "Why was that for? We are talking here!"

Confused, he replied, still walking towards her in proper fighting stance. - "I'm going to strike you down, as I must."

"I'm talking to you and you decide to do that? What's your problem? I give you some attention and you think you're so mighty?" - She asked with a surprising amount of hurt in her voice. - "For your information, you slobbering mess of hormones, cells and virility, I am talking to my brother after millennia, don't you have an ounce of humanity within you?"

"Do you?" - Was his quick answer.

No words from her, only surprised eyes, defeated.

Did her brother really say that to her?

Did he really not care?

She was here, in front of him, with her least regal attire, trying to entice him. She had prepared for him this entire trap to get him so that he could obviously fall to her magnificent intelligence and she could take her in to Slaanesh, who would reward her by letting her keep her little brother by her side. Then, she could obviously punish him for being such a bad sibling and then teach him so many things! Including making sure that his kids weren't as stupid as he was, because, well, they'd be part her.

"Stupid little brother." - She said, her face contorting to block some tears from welling up. - "You want to go with the Imperium quickly, not even exchange some words with me?"

"Huh?"

"You want to fight the horny bugs instead of being with me for a little while longer, do you?" - She accused. - "When Slaanesh called for us I was the one who wanted to come first, and I did, for you, and this is how you repay me?"

For once he was so fucking amazed that he couldn't answer.

"Go fuck yourself, smurfboy." - She then sobbed. - "Go with that Eldar bitch I see you moaning so much about, see if I care."

"She isn't m-"

"I DON'T CARE!" - She screamed, breaking the ears of a few soldiers. - "You see if she cares for my brother more than I do."

"How do you know abo-..." - He stopped himself, this was getting into him, this was straying, this was getting stupid, he had to collect himself. So he breathed in and then out. - "I have no 'Eldar bitch' with me, I'-"

But then again, she interrupted him.

"You're single?"

"Yes?"

One could just feel how relief replaced the hate inside her, only to quickly get obfuscated by the demon crossing her arms, still looking at him defiantly.

"Not that I care... But it's good to hear that."

One of her hands then went to her hair and got a few strands behind her right ear; eyes looking down, a faint blush invading her red face.

"Can we just fight, I have logistics to do." - He responded, his eternal resolve wavering, the strands of lunacy entering his speech once more.

"You and your logistics, such a prude," -Snort- "what if you just pay some respect and give me a hug?" - She asked, opening up her arms.

Meanwhile, the daemons all around began taking some steps forth, some even caressed the soldiers they had chosen under then; some even took the hands of the engineers scattered around this faux-Baal and began forcing them to her theorems and poems.

Of course, the Primarch of the Ultramarines had to choose if to dwell in this lunacy or just smite her. He wanted to get over this, but then again she might just stop acting by herself and call more forces since they were in the warp; so it was better strategically speaking to just release himself of his common sense and slightly part his arms, still not dropping the sword of his father.

In no time he felt his armor being pressed, something invading it, filling it, sensing every fiber of his being, while he could clearly distinguish two strong arms around his waist, while he head of someone rested upon his right shoulder, looking at him with a cheeky smile.

"My little autist," - She said with an unbearable degree of smugness, in a low voice that rippled through his ear. He was already regretting this. Nevertheless, he hugged her too. Somehow the metal melted when in touch with her, letting his arms envelop her. - "I missed you so much."

Her breasts then began clearly pressing against his own chest, almost depriving him of oxygen.

"It's a lonely existence, to just learn, command forces from afar, knowing you're immortal," - Her tone dropped, sadness hinting through. - "seeing humans, Tau, Xeno, whatever, have lives full of emotion. They're ephemeral but beautiful. Perfect in their little way, each one producing cascade events that slowly mold reality."

One of her fingers began tracing up the side of Guilliman.

Her daemons followed her example, some even going as far as giving gentle licks to their prey.

"I saw you, doing things that mattered to someone, that inspired people... I saw determination I can't hold, or rather," - She pulled a bit from his shoulder, looking at him face to face. - "I couldn't hold before... Now something came to me, I wanted to go with you, to hunt you, so maybe you can share some of that with me... I wanted to be someone who could do good, not be a pawn devoid of a mission."

Her eyes, timid, went up and down, before they settled on his lips. - "Can you please share the feeling with me, brother? See past this deformed body?"

His lips parted to answer, but she took it as something else. - "Brother!" - She exclaimed, with utter joy.

Soon, she had forced herself to meet his lips, her desire mistaking this all as an invitation to mingle their breaths and passions, or at least hers. His mere touch, his presence ignited a fire within him - a blaze that consumed her immense reasoning and blocked his, leaving only raw desire intermixed with confusion in its wake.

With such hunger, she made him kneel to further the love she was expressing, parting his mouth more. Tongues soon entwined in an intimate dance—caressing, exploring the depths of each other's mouths as he for a moment slipped into the act. In that simple touch, there is an electric current—an unspoken understanding, his sister was fucking crazy, and he was easily coerced.

She could feel his warmth radiating against her skin as they pressed closer — their bodies eager to merge into one as hormones flourished. AAa hotness pooled between her thighs, and soon she rubbed her body with his.

Then she parted from him, her eyes forming throbbing hearts that asked for his to connect in the same way.

The lingering taste of her brother on her lips fueled an insatiable hunger deep inside her, craving for more. She even went as far as moaning as her breasts felt his skin as the armor broke down as the resolve to stop her advances did too.

Desire coursed through the essence of her being as she lost herself in this stolen moment, a forbidden union concealed beneath the eye of Slaanesh, but buried deep in the souls of those who had managed to see it, for the poor soldiers were being attacked by the daemons too, trying to gain their hearts after such an antagonistic beginning.

"I stole your first kiss.~" - She whispered, obviously priding herself on that. Her gaze then sat in his eyes, eager, she wanted to know his response. - "I love you brother. I've always loved you, you're the only one almost as smart as I am. Please, don't be such a prude," - Snort - "I want you to build models with me, read books with me, design entire armies and make philosophy together while we see little blonde kids with red skin walking through the inmaterium. You're literally made for me, and I'm for you." - She said, pleading, her tone desperate, if it wasn't for her air of superiority and smugness she could sense Yvraine's methods in her.

All to just break down the moment he took a step back, not knowing how to react. The string of saliva connecting them cut off, and her eyes broke up, becoming like glass surrounded by a stream of drops of water that fell from her cheeks, and stayed suspended in the air, following Tzeench's machinations with its kids.

Her daemons stopped their small stream of love.

Guilliman had let this happen for far too long. What kind of shitty anime was this?

First, she was a demon, second, she was his fucking sister!

Hell nah.

But as assblasted as he was, she was livid.

"You... I offer you everything."

Thump.

"And you throw it away?" - Her breath came out as ragged, desperate.

"You don't want to be with me?" - She asked, rhetorically, of course, she then shook her head and frowned. - "Alright, but know this, I'll never forgive you, you hear that, you autistic smurf!?"

In one swoop of her hand, her daemons disappeared, and so did the basilica, leaving only ruins of what once was a civilization that got engulfed in the inmaterium, the hellish landscape around them clouding everything. Her might took it all and deposited it into a mere gem she then placed around her neck.

"You wanted to fight Angress so much? Have it your way." - She said, as a portal opened behind her, iridescent indigo flowing around. - "Stupid little brother."

Her last words had pain in her voice.

For a moment, he saw the Tsun-dered daughters behind the portal, waiting for their Primarch to come to them, for her first plan had failed; and now they were going to take humanity from the front, in war, though it isn't like they wanted to or anything.

If Guilliman wasn't gonna fall to her arms, she was going to show him who the best sister was.

The portal closed, leaving Guilliman to ponder.

What the fuck happened.

Just for a moment though.

Maybe ten seconds.

Because in the distance he heard a loud:

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GUILLIMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!

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A scream that broke through the inmaterium.

The voice was raspy, as if he didn't have a good night of sleep recently.

It sounded like the Lion when someone said that he wasn't the eldest son.

And it was followed by a:

"YES, GIRLYMAN INDEED!"

This scream was different, it came from a deeper voice, one that had a fire inside of it equal to a volcano's power in each vowel. Crowned by a distinct female touch that seemed like an afterthought.

Over a cliff far away, he saw from where it came through.

It was the unmistakable sight of who once was Angron.

The body didn't change much from before, bruised, battered, in hellish appearance, covered in thorns, with barely-noticeable curves, and a maddening grin of pure ecstasy as she leered at her one little brother. Skulls decorating her. Muscles so heavy that he knew she could lift an entire battleship and throw it at him if it meant stopping him from running away.

Because that's what he needed to do right fucking now.

He had fought against her before, he knew that Magna was bluffing, if he was strong now, he didn't want to imagine how strong she was. And given her absurd speed, he knew that he had no chance here, not in the domain of Slaanesh.

There was no dialogue, she came, she was going to conquer. (And then she was going to cum, hopefully)

He called in all air assets to retrieve the engineers and others; while ordering his sons and other units to come to fight a delaying battle.

The 5th Company of the Knights Cerulean reinforced the traumatized Atrerrans, and so did a company of Scions and Guilliman's Custodes, to form a defensive perimeter along the ruins, for Angress ran at them as other reinforcements came.

Before vehicles could be deployed there, the daughter of Khorne saw herself suddenly followed by red mist of a Blood Legion coming through the same cliff. Flying beasts of unholy magnitudes and daemons ready to meet their newest mates laughed as they poured in.

Imperial fire soon came through, mowing them down. Air battles decorated the inmaterium, bombardment from the ships caused fireworks to further the needy screams of the attack.

Countless daemons fell just as the last civilians were evacuated; but just before the troops could begin retreating too, they saw themselves face to face with the forever enemy.

This time though, the Primarch was followed by World Eaters, who reveled as they cleaved through the initial resistance, and everybody who could even dodge their attacks, was soon left for the daemons to take in, and force in unholy union.

They themselves lunged in groups against the Marines, seeing them as predilect options for them to take as their own toys, they maimed whoever they needed, whatever they felt like, until they began squirming in just the way they wanted, the way they needed to feel like they had caught the perfect source of seed for their next swarm of warriors.

Such was the thirst that when Angress finally found her axe smashing against the blade of the Emperor, Guilliman barely parried the unending attacks of the strongest being present in the inmaterium; she gt bodied by Kharn, who behind her helmet was livid, for she then tried tackling the Ultramarine Primarch, not caring that he slashed her chest, for she immediately grabbed him by the balls and shouted. - "YOU'RE MINE!" - He felt fear at that precise moment, he tried moving the sword to kill her, but it seemed like Slaanesh was replacing every bit of her soul that got erased by the sword with even more seeketh of pleasure.

He had to thank Angress herself whose body darkened light collapsed around the battlefield, only the fire from battle giving any illumination; as she grabbed Kharn by the head and slammed her to the ground before grabbing Guilliman's right arm and bending it back, breaking his shoulder.

The moment he felt the agonizing pain he answered by taking the sword out from Kharn and slashing her chest, cleaving one of her tits.

This fucking masochist delighted on that though, and she said: "You know, brother, I knew you weren't just a twink, prove to me that your little seed can put some strong kids on me."

Then she struck one of her axes yet again. With only one hand available it was hard for him to defend himself.

His troops around him also fell in droves, the strength of Khorne mixed with the need of Slanesh seemed to coalesce in a synergy such that they became both an unstoppable object and an immovable object.

She wasn't like Magna, at all, she knew what she wanted, she wanted to take it, she just wanted him, no if, no buts, no hows, she was instructed to do something, and like a brute she was maiming her mate to make him hers, even if she killed him it was alright, after all, his soul could always be put into good use by the only deity in this new existence.

That's when a little something came by.

His father.

Or rather, something that his father would do.

His genes flared, and the answer came right by.

Fuck Horus, he could also be charismatic.

Or... At least he could talk his way out of things.

And he would prove it, for between agonizing screams as he was struck time and time again; he said.

"The Eldars fight with more honor than you!"

She stopped striking him, and her hungry stare died down, the yellow light in her eyes subsided enough to let a pair of irises show as her face now showed shock.

"What?" - She asked, plainly, not understanding this.

Oh it worked. Appeal to the honor of the fucking Khornite, of course! You're a genius Girlyman!

He took a moment to scream because, well, he had his stomach ripped open.

Then, like any normal superhuman he answered. - "You think this is a good fight? Your little soldier grabbed my balls!"

And said little soldier roared as she lunged at the Primarch yet again, only to be stopped by Angress, who grabbed her by the head once more and shoved her to the ground.

The Demon Primarch then sat on the ground, one hand on her chin, monke was thinking.

"But... Fight is still fight?" - She asked, genuinely curious.

"No," - He deadpanned, and before she could retort, he said. - "tell me: How would you feel if I grabbed your breasts in the middle of a fight?"

"Horny." - She answered, immediately, her face turning into a marvelous smile that got accompanied by a bite on her lower lip. It'd been hot if she hadn't bitten herself so hard that she tore off her lip and began bleeding. Not that she cared though.

"Bah," - Astonished, Papa smurf had to rephrase it. - "what if someone else grabbed your tits?"

She thought really hard about this, caressing her temples as she seemed to put 101% of her neurons into this. - "So... You grab my tits... I get hor-"

"No, someone else, imagine that someone other than me grabs your tits while we fought."

"Ooooooh," - She let out, seemingly understanding it. But she then placed her hands on her mouth and squinted her eyes. - "Not you?"

"Yes, someone else."

"Hmn..." - Pondering for a few seconds while the carnage ensued she pointed at him - "Bad, I'd feel bad. Only brother gets tits said Slaanesh."

Rolling his eyes, Guilliman then said: "Then, how do you feel that she touched me?"

Again, Angress had to shove Kharn into the ground, and for good measure, she stomped her skull down. Then she answered, not really sure. - "Bad... Because you feel bad?"

He was so fucking tired of this that he inadvertently let out a "Love you too, sis." which provoked and insatiable smile on Angress's face, who stood up and grabbed an axe right again, the fire in her eyes reappearing as her wings deployed, the light around the battlefield reappearing.

Shaking his hands he said. - "No, no, bad sister, you don't get sex now, this was a bad battle."

She immediately pouted. - "Why not?"

"This was a bad fight, we can fight later and you can try to breed with me later."

"Bu-"

"No buts, go back to the skull throne." - He said, commanding.

"Alright..." - She said, obviously sad, grabbing Kharn by her left leg and dragging her away.

The Blood Legion obviously took whichever mates they had found and left too, not willing to defy the successor of Khorne.

This left an injured Guilliman, totally fucked up, bleeding all over, with merely thirteen survivors.

He didn't know how did that manage to work, but he was thankful for it nevertheless.

(Thanks father, for your genes finally did something good for one of your sons) - He thought.

Soon enough the fleet came for him, their devastating losses, losing an entire battalion of troops plus a company of marines and assisting units a hindrance in the plans; but having saved themselves from the forces of Chaos would prove invaluable for the accomplishment of their mission.

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And later, they'd reach Baal, this time for real.

Guilliman though, far from going right about and talking to Dante, ignored him, literally throwing the equivalent of an STC to the face, containing all of his plans, logistic outlines, industrial blueprints and lists to organize the armies and planets.

Because he went straight to the biggest bedroom they had in the Fortress monastery to rest.

Armor out, patched wounds against soft fabric of a Primarch-sized bed, as it was made according to where Sanguinius used to rest; and eyes down.

The first day there he let the engineers and others do their jobs. Cato Sicarius knew what to do and organized things accordingly, letting his dear father sleep.

All while a little someone watched him over the window.

A little someone who wished his heart was hers.

"Oh Guilliman, I wish to cure your wounds again, but I can't." - She said in a whim.

Yvraine tilted her head to the side, her anguish flourishing as she noted every new scar on her dearest's body.

But she noticed something, in the window across the room there was someone else.

It was that bitch, Lorgea.

She was also leaning over the window, looking at her brother.

Their gaze met, both frowned.

The demon was the first one to shoot. - "Hey knife-ears, get lost, he's mine."

"Fuck off Stacy, he needs a tradwife, not a bimbo." - She retorted.

"Incel."

"Pervert."

"Says the woman stalking him."

"You're one to talk."

"I'm his sister, shitlips; it's my duty."

"Is it also your duty to look at his cock?"

"If it drives alien-AIDS away from him, yeah."

"Like getting a slaneeshy rashes is any better."

"I'm clean, you literally worship a death God, the moment you ride him you're gonna wither his balls away."

"And you're gonna milk his soul if you kiss him."

Silence struck the two.

The following morning, when Guilliman woke up, he noticed how the room was on fire, there was blood all around, it smelled like 15 different kinds of perfume, there was hair and teeth everywhere; and something written in the wall with blood and what he could only guess was green ink.

SOME DAY YOU'LL HAVE TO CHOOSE

"What the fuck?" - He uttered, shaking his head.

He didn't even care enough to put off the fire, he just stood up and walked out of his room, where Cato was standing.

"Father, it is I, Cato Sicarius, and I have news for you, father, brought by yours truly, ergo, me, Cato Sicarius."

Guilliman, drinking his Primarch-grade coffee from his '#1st Primarch' mug: nodded, like a dad hearing about his son's escapades on school.

"Father, I, Cato Sicarius have taught as much as I could on my first day," - He said, prideful, expecting some praise, which he got by his Primarch placing a 'Good boy' sticker on his armor." - "but I have to give you bad news."

Expecting something ridiculous, he closed his eyes and asked, calmly, softly, not wanting to insult his kid.

"Is it something relating to a logistical issue?"

"No, father," - He said quickly, and then he prepared to give him a surprise. - "you have visits!"

"Dante?"

"No!"

"Another Primarch?"

"Maybe in three chapters more."

"What?"

"Keep guessing, dad!"

"Uh... Chaos?"

"Worse, the Drukhari!" - He announced, gladly, extending his arms.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes! And they brought the entirety of Commorraghwith them!"

If the others had been twisted...

What the fuck did await for him?

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Sorry for the brevity of the Khornite segment, but I really have pretty little time, and I love you guys so much that I still wanted to give you something (but not enough to give you a completely fleshed-out story)

I love y'all, please wish me luck in my tests cuz studying law is hard.

and yeah, someday I'm gonna upload chapters to my other stories too. Probably around mid-late July.

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Oi, and yeah, and, there was no sex in this chapter, but if you want some you need to comment 'Seggs with' and the character.
The most voted one on this chapter's reviews (or PM's) will be the protagonist of the first sex scene of the fic.

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Comment of shame:
ScarletSasha
At least browse KnowYourMeme a bit.

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bmanbeast57: Could be worse!

You will fear my laser face: In the grim darkness of the 42nd Millenium, there's only pain.

Icbjs: For sins shall be paid with a coin of flesh, and the images that torment the mind shall overcome its host or be dispelled by the righteous, pray that you might be forgiven from your curse.

Guest: It's the question all men have to answer if they want to be considered men. Also women too.

Kamori I'm The Infinity: ñomñomñom. I'm glad you enjoyed it matey, remember that I read all of your comments and if you even suggest something stupid I'll write it down. Hope my schizophrenia can entertain you for a bit more.

Snakebolt505: Thank ya matey, and I hope that the little encounter was funny too. Cuz I've gotta build up them more crazy shit for when Yvraine goes full on femcel.

Zancudo Fiend: Whatever my audience wants I'll deliver.

junior1441: Harems are retarded wish-fulfillment shit. But good idea.

thebigmeme: Fuck yeah, hatefucking angry buff woma is prime wife material.

CallMeCayde: It might or mightn't influenced me.

Pilarman2: Unironically not far away from what I had planned, but that's for a future chapter.

death'sgodson1224-DGS: Noted.

ThousandSonSorcere: They'd probably they would fap and then try to know who the fuck to aid or if they go full third party and try to become their own thing.

Bolvar57: Por desgracia... No ganaron... :c

Captainrex22345: Noted SW fan.

Who voted for the Eldar:
- freddylane1
- Kamori I'm The Infinity
- Bolvar57

Who voted for chaos:
- Snakebolt505 (Angress)
- junior1441 (Angress)
- death'sgodson1224-DGS (Angress)
- AJ (Lorgea)
- Zancudo Fiend (Magna)
- Icbjs
- Captainrex22345 (Angress)

Dark Eldar:
-Pilarman2
-ThousandSonSorcere