Saint Summer the Huntress

by Korykr

To most death is the end. To some death is a doorway. To Summer death is a beginning. Separated from her home and family, she must carve her way across a galaxy in flames in order to return to them. Nothing would get in her way. Not aliens, monsters, daemons, or evil gods. She would return to Remnant and leave her mark on the galaxy.

8. Chapter 8

RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth.

Warhammer 40K belongs to Games Workshop

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Chapter 8: Rise of the Primarch

Summer sat on the cold steel floor with her eyes closed and her legs crossed. Around her was a small steel walled room. It was not meant to be luxurious in any regard. She would even go so far as to call it completely spartan. All that was in there was a sink, mirror, toilet and a one-person cot to use as a bed. Did they not believe in mattresses in the Imperium?

This place had been her temporary home for the past several days. Taking a deep breath, she recalled the events that took place since their escape from the Despoiler's Black Legion.

Once they were free of the strange construct that was identified as an 'Eldar Webway Gate' they ran into more Chaos Space Marines. But the battle did not last very long. While the insane Astartes fought hard, they were clearly caught unawares. The reason why only became apparent when the Webway Gate suddenly vanished before their eyes.

Those things were amazing. Instantaneous travel from one point in the galaxy to the next. It was downright mind-blowing.

After the battle all the leaders of the Celestinian Crusade convened to discuss their next move. Surprisingly, Summer was called up to join in on the discussion. The reason behind this decision was not given. Even now, over a week or two later she still didn't understand. According to the ranking system as Elaine had told her, she was equivalent to a special agent at best. Battle Psykers were not given any real command over troops, lest their minds become compromised, and they lead their armies into daemonic traps.

Yet nearly everyone agreed to her presence being there. The only person who voiced an objection was Strang and even then, it was only because of the principle that she did not have the rank. Summer expected it to be Greyfax as she was the most hostile towards almost everyone. It became clear why. It was her job. She was supposed to be super critical about everyone.

The huntress did not begrudge the inquisitor for it. After all, Summer knew what she was now. Or at least she partially knew. Still, Greyfax was strangely accepting of her listening in on plans that should be kept secret.

After they confirmed that the army was now safe, the aliens introduced themselves. Even now, with two of them on board the ship, the huntress could hardly believe it.

Aliens. Real aliens. She shouldn't have been surprised. Aliens being real was far more likely and believable than daemons being real.

Everyone called them the Eldar. Summer had referred to them as space elves. That had made everyone except for the Space Marines, Sisters and Osiris laugh. Greyfax found it slightly amusing. As told by the slight grin that temporarily replaced the perma-scowl she wore.

The Eldar was a weird bunch. They were very expressive in almost everything they did. Summer had no idea if it was because of her new assortment of semblances, or her profound ability sense the aura of others, but she began to notice small things the aliens did whenever they performed any action.

Everything conveyed emotion or meaning. What they were was something she could not decipher or lacked interest in deciphering. When two of them came forward, the leaders of the Eldar, Summer watched how they moved. They valued grace and elegance above most other forms of expression. Every step, every wave of the hand was done with a form of fluidity that made what should have been casual action look like a practiced performance.

The two that came forward were called Yvraine and the Visarch, whatever that means. They proclaimed to be sent to aid the Celestinian Crusade. Summer found them to be slightly annoying. The way they spoke made every sentence sound condescending. Like they were looking down on the humans.

It was then that Summer was made aware that the Eldar did in fact see themselves as superior to humanity in every regard. Along with their tendency to manipulate others in order to achieve their own ends.

Strang, Greyfax and Amalrich argued against trusting these Ynnari, but Celestine and Cawl insisted that they were necessary. Cawl stated that he had been intercepting vox transmissions ever since he came through the gate. What he had to say was not good. Summer learned the names of more enemy Astartes legions. Along with the already encountered Black Legion, there were Alpha Legion forces in the area, Iron Warriors and Emperor's Children. The last one was profoundly confusing, but she decided to not focus on that at the time.

Celestine's argument was slightly harder to argue with. She kept stating that it was the will of the Emperor that they had come to meet the Eldar on that frozen mountain. Some brushed that comment aside, like Osiris and Greyfax, but the rest of them found the words of Celestine hard to ignore. It often surprised Summer just how much weight the word of a Saint carried in the Imperium.

Eventually they came to accept the help of the Ynnari, but it was a strained alliance. Both small armies kept a respectful distance from one another as they marched together. Their distrust of each other created a tension so thick that you might be able to cut it with a knife.

Celestine led them onward from there. They marched through a mountain range. Luckily, they did not encounter any more hostiles. They were running on fumes. Other than that, she felt that the Eldar were watching her. Whenever she glanced at them, she would always spot at least half a dozen of them looking directly at her. Talk about creepy.

Then they found the fortress. It was a monument to military might. Guns the size of skyscrapers and walls that were so imposing that they essentially dared you to attack just to prove that you would break rather than the walls themselves.

The guns on the walls were firing. For a moment Summer marveled at the sheer power of the artillery. How big do those shells get? How do they reload them so quickly? What's the range? The altitude? So many questions came to a halt when she saw what they were shooting at.

Heldrakes. A whole swarm of them.

As the hotchpotch of an army approached the fortress, one of the daemonic beasts broke away from the pack and focused on them. After that everyone made a mad dash for the fortress. The giant mechs known as Imperial Knights made it to the fortress first. They were ridiculously fast once they built up momentum. They protected everyone from the Heldrakes until the pack was either shot down or driven off.

Then the gates of the fortress opened, showing Summer a very different type of Space Marine compared to the Black Templars. These marines were in blue armor. They were formal, calm and clean. Not that the Templars were dirty, they had been fighting for months without a chance to properly clean their armor, but these new arrivals were different. Their armor lacked the religious adornments and ceremonial trappings that the Templars had.

Three of these marines stepped through the gate, their funs trained on the Eldar.

These were the Ultramarines that Mercer mentioned back on Cadia. Summer wondered if the warrior from her vision was one of them. At the time a part of her hoped that he would be in the fortress, but that was not the case.

As it turns out, Cawl needed to take his reliquary to a planet known as Macragge. To the 'Lord of Ultramar'. Summer can only assume that this lord is the warrior they are looking for or can lead them to him at the very least.

The Ultramarines were fairly reasonable. Even after expressing their caution towards Yvraine and the Visarch, they agreed to help. Even if it was only a little.

By a string of luck or the will of the Emperor as Celestine would put it, the Ultramarines already had a ready ship in orbit and two Stormraven gunships on the way to help deal with the Heldrakes.

They offered to take a small group back to Macragge with them while the rest could wait in the fortress until their business was concluded.

Of those who were nominated to go Summer was among them. Celestine, Greyfax and Amalrich flat out demanded that she come even when the Ultramarines identified her as a psyker. Greyfax countered any argument with her authority as an inquisitor, stating that Summer was under her supervision until proper tests could be conducted to ensure that the huntress was not a threat.

In total, those who were going to Macragge were Cawl, Celestine and her two bodyguards, Greyfax, Amalrich, Lothar and his squad, Summer, Nicholas, Finlay, Osiris, Elaine and her personal squad.

The rest of the crusade had to remain on this planet. The Sisters of Battle were reluctant to part with Celestine, but they did under the Saint's promise that their part in this grand event was not finished. They had carried their Blessed Lady to safety and now they were being tested by patience. Fine words from Celestine to convince them to stay behind.

Guiren, Emperor's Champion of the Black Templars was charged with leading the Astartes until their Marshal returned to them. A duty he accepted without question or complaint.

As for the Cadians and Tempestus Scions. Both were placed under the command of Colonel-Commissar Strang. Greyfax granted him the authority over the Tempestor Prime until further notice and warned Strang not to overstep his bounds, commissar or not his authority was limited.

Now here they were, essentially stuck on a Space Marine Strike Cruiser. From what she had been told, the trip to Macragge would take a few days at the least. And during that time, Summer would be confined to her quarters, unless she had an escort with her. It became annoying at first, but she grew accustomed to it eventually. An advantage brough about by her new state of being was that she found it more difficult to be dulled by repetition. As her mind grew quicker and sharper, she began to focus on more complex matters. She questioned everything around her, if only to put the time she had to use until someone eventually came by and let her out.

In these moments of silence, Summer contemplated the man from her vision. The one in blue armor. She wondered how one man could turn the tables on their enemies. Just what made him so special and why would her new master send them on this mad dash to get him?

Cawl apparently knew who he was, but she didn't have the opportunity to talk to him yet. The Archmagos was in the forge of the ship, tinkering with that big storage container of his. Whatever was in it, Cawl was willing to let his ship burn in order to protect it.

Celestine was apparently unsure about who she was looking for. She knew that their hope was on Macragge and that Cawl was the key to finding it, but as it turns out, Celestine did not get a clear look at the man from their shared vision. Summer had to either chalk that up to some shenanigans from her new master or her enhanced sight piercing through the light that may have blinded Celestine.

A slight purring sound caught Summer's attention. Opening her eyes, she turned to the cot. On it lay a large blue feline creature. This thing had been following her ever since she came through the gate. The entire journey up to the fortress, this creature remained by her side. It looked like a cat, but it wasn't. It was also an alien of some kind.

Greyfax said that it was drawn to Summer's psychic presence. Summer was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but the feline hadn't done anything to her yet. So far, all it did was follow her around and express a desire to be close to her.

A series of knocks on the steel door of her room brought her to her feet.

"Come in." She said turning to see an unarmored Osiris at the door.

Summer almost flinched at the sight of him. This was the first time she had seen him without his armor. He wore long white robes that covered his chest and legs, leaving his arms exposed. Even now he still towered over her. His frame was so well defined they might as well be chiseled from stone and turned into muscle.

He stepped through the door, his action causing the sleeping feline to lift its head and stare at him. Osiris did not pay it any attention.

"You have a visitor." Osiris said, stepping aside to show Yvraine waiting patiently outside.

The Eldar woman said nothing as she watched Summer with those enigmatic eyes. Stepping through the threshold, Summer noticed the Eldar walked barefoot and only stepped on her toes. The sight almost made the huntress winch. How could someone do that to themselves on a constant basis? She could barely walk in heels let alone stay on her toes as a normal style of walking.

Yvraine was a very attractive being. Even if her outfit was a little over the top. Her silver hair looked like it was three meters long at least. It was hard to tell while it was bound into a topknot. Then there were the feathers that formed the corona at the top of said knot. It reminded her of a peacock's tail. The black undersuit was highly embellished but it looked functional. Summer did not know how Eldar technology worked. Their guns were beautiful, but they looked more like art than real weapons. That did not change the effect they had on Space Marine armor. She made a mental note not to underestimate any form of esoteric weaponry in the galaxy.

The corset and long skirt Yvraine wore also looked to be more for style than actual combat. Did it have some ritualistic purpose or was a form of status? It was impossible to say without asking and even then, the woman did not seem willing to tell.

Then Summer noticed another being enter the room. Another cat-like alien. It was the same color and size as the one that had attached itself to the huntress.

It glanced at Summer before turning to the feline on the cot. The two stared at one another before Summer's feline turned away. The one at Yvraine's side looked annoyed somehow. Like it had been rejected.

"Greetings, human." Said Yvraine, her voice giving her an air of authority.

"Umm, hello." Summer replied, not knowing how she should address the alien.

"I am Yvraine, Daughter of Shades, Prophet of Ynnead."

"I'm Summer. I'm a huntress."

The Eldar turned to the cat on the cot as well. The feline simple glanced at the woman and stretched out it's meter long body before hopping off and standing at Summer's feet, almost in defiance of the woman's gaze.

Summer felt slightly nervous at the staring contest continued. Glancing at Osiris, she hoped he might say something to help alleviate the tension that she felt building. To her dismay, he observed the situation from the side as if he were studying some strange natural phenomenon.

The cat at Summer's side let out a soft huff before turning away from the Eldar.

Yvraine gave no reaction, but she was still for a few seconds before speaking. "She appears to have chosen you as her partner. How strange considering she had an entire host of my kind to select from yet chooses a Mon-keigh."

"I'm sorry but what are you talking about?" Summer answered, quickly becoming tired of the lack of directness. While she was used to people trying to talk circles around her, as was evident every time she spoke with Ozpin, she still had a limit to how much she was willing to take. Especially when she could feel them out there, beyond the protective bubble that surrounded the ship. The hundreds of millions of eyes that were watching them, waiting for the shield to drop. It made her hair stand on end. Good thing she didn't need to sleep anymore, else those things might haunt her nightmares.

"The Gyrinx at your side was meant to be a mate for mine." Yvraine said with surprising bluntness.

Reaching down, the woman's long fingers caressed her companion's fuzzy head. "It would appear that she has changed her mind."

"Okay." Summer said, looking down at the creature that she now had a name for. "And that's somehow my fault?"

"In a sense, yes." Yvraine's voice was free of malice, but the condescending tone was still there.

"If you want, I could just let you have her back then." Summer offered, hoping to end a pointless discussion so she could return to her mediations.

"I am afraid it is too late for that." Yvraine said before her Gyrinx meowed.

Summer's little companion lifted her nose and turned away in dismissal.

"The Gyrinx are an elegant species that require the presence of other sentient life to prosper. They accomplish this by pairing up and forming psychic bonds with those they choose. Once paired they do not abandon their partner unless one of the two perishes."

Summer felt her Gyrinx rub its cheek against her leg as a sign of affection. With a slight sigh, the huntress patted the feline on the head, earning a small meow from it.

"And?" Summer pressed on. Now willing to entertain this for very long.

"After I found the pair, I formed a bond with this one, but soon discovered that the other was…" Yvraine paused before continuing. "I believe the term in your distasteful language is 'picky.'"

Summer's Gyrinx snorted at the comment.

"And I came here to discover, out of hundreds of my kin, many of which are accomplished seers and warriors, why she chose you." Yvraine almost sounded like she was accusing Summer of some scheme or crime.

Summer didn't know what to say. She didn't have an answer for the woman.

"Seeing you now." Yvraine said. "I can see the appeal you present towards a psychic species like them. Despite your primitive origins you have developed a refined psychic presence. Most impressive for a Mon-keigh."

Yvraine was about to leave but Summer spoke up. "Wait."

The Eldar stood still on her toes. "Was there something on your mind?"

"Why are you helping us? From what I keep hearing, humans seem to hate you and you Eldar don't see us any differently."

Yvraine grinned, it was a snide grin that spoke of knowledge that Summer was unaware of. As if she were on the receiving end of a joke. "You speak of humans as if you still count among them. I only address you as such because your language has no name for what my people would call you. As for my assistance in your little endeavor, know that it only comes because my people are too few to fight this war in the open as you do. We must fight in a more selective fashion while you engage the foe directly."

Summer stared at the woman with half closed eyes. "So, were just one big distraction for you then?"

Yvraine turned to leave without answering, her Gyrinx giving one last meow towards the one at Summer's side. The only response he got was a quick hiss.

Once the pair were through the door, Summer turned to Osiris. "Did you know about this?"

"I had a theory regarding the creature. I assumed it was some sort of spy at first. But the inquisitor allayed my suspicions having already inspected the creature with her own abilities. As for her reason for aiding us. It is commonly known that the Eldar only offer aid when they have something to gain. I recommend you become accustomed to it."

Summer glanced down at the creature again. It stared at her with those sharp eyes. With a short sigh, she decided to stop putting it off. "I suppose I could use a partner out here."

Sitting on the cot, she picked up the Gyrinx and placed her on the huntress' lap and began to stoke her back. In response the creature purred louder. "I guess you need a name. How about Gesell?"

Gesell meowed happily, having been accepted by her chosen partner after about a week of near apathy from the woman. It wasn't that she didn't care about Gesell, she just had more important things to worry about. Like the universe breaking apart because of a tide of nightmare monsters.

"Now that you have settle this menial matter." Osiris said. "Do you wish to leave your quarters?"

"Oh?" Summer perked up at the Custodian's offer. "Is someone finally coming to let me out?"

"Your sarcasm is understandable. You have been isolated for approximately three standard days. But it is unnecessary. Nicholas would have come to you immediately, but he was rushed to the Apothecarion due to his worsening health."

Summer lowered her head, feeling slightly ashamed of herself. In her ignorance she became selfish. She never had to deal with failing health issues again, while Nicholas was fighting for his life. How could she be so self-center to think that no one had important things to do while they were on this ship.

"Sorry." She said in a self-deprecating manner.

"I was not reprimanding you." Osiris said, trying to sound amiable. "I was merely stating why he had not come to see you. As for me. I was undergoing the same procedure as the inquisitor."

"What procedure?"

"The removal of Xenos technology from our bodies." He answered in a factual tone.

Summer nearly jumped from her seat, but the weight of Gesell kept her in place. "What?"

"I am aware you met a Necron on Cadia." Osiris began. "One called Trazyn the Infinite?"

Summer nodded, remembering the polite machine. He was certainly more cordial than the Eldar. While Trazyn still viewed himself as above everyone else, he saw that as secondary compared to what he meant to accomplish at the time.

"He captured me some time after the Horus Heresy. Placing me in stasis. Inquisitor Greyfax cross-referenced my experience with her own. She was also captured by the Necron, as was Nicholas."

"So, what did he put in you?"

"A swarm of nano-machines called Mindshackle Scarabs." Osiris pointed a finger to his head and continued. "They infest the brain and interfere with your neural pathways. It can be something simple as forbidding you from a certain action to bending your mind to obediently follow the orders of the scarabs' master."

Summer shivered at the thought of her head swarming with thousands of tiny insects trying to mess with her brain. "So, it places you under his control?"

"Yes. If I had to speculate, I would assume he did this as a safety precaution, in case one of us decided that revenge mattered more than duty."

"Does Nic have these things? He was captured by Trazyn too."

"No. Though I am unsure as to why. His companion, Finlay does have them though."

Summer was beginning to understand why she was being left alone now.

"What about Elaine? Or Lothar?"

"The Cadians is performing constant drills in the strike cruiser's main hanger. The Ultramarines have forbidden them from coming into contact with you because many on the psykers on board deemed them unusual and deduced that you were the source."

"So, they can see my aura." Summer surmised.

"I would appear that way. They view you as dangerous not only because of your psychic presence, but the strange way you utilize your abilities."

This caused the huntress to sigh in annoyance. She understood why they were so cautious, but it still gets on your nerves after some time.

Osiris continued on. "As for the Templars, they are in the fighting cages. Our hosts offered to have their armor and weapons repaired and they are passing the time by sparing, with the exception of the Apothecary who is tending to the recovering trio of mortals in the Apothecarion. The Archmagos was quite thorough in his scouring."

"Are they alright? Is Nicholas going to be, okay?" Summer said, hoping that the mechanical monstrosity known as Cawl could live up to all the boasting he did.

"The inquisitor and the guardsman are fully cleansed and recovering. As for Sir Nicholas, he is currently in a chemically induced coma."

"What!?" This time Summer forgot Gesell was there and shot to her feet, throwing the Gyrinx to the floor. Osiris did not so much as blink.

"Keep calm. He was placed in this state to help his body recover from the operation. His lungs were replaced with a vat gown copy, chemically altered to grow at an accelerated pace until it was removed from the growing solution. His body is still accepting the new organ."

With a relieved exhale of breath, she knelt down and patted her new friend apologetically. "Any idea when he'll wake up?"

"When we reach Macragge. No sooner."

"Okay then." Summer stood up straight and place her hands on her hips. "So, where are we going?"

"To the Archmagos. He wishes to see you." Osiris strolled out the door. Summer followed him with Gesell in tow, her tail flicking the air in happiness.

Summer had to admit, for a ship dedicated to war, it was well made. All around she could see finely crafted arches of gold. Pillars that incorporated imagery of the chapter and the Imperium. While she was more of a utilitarian in comparison to most people, she still liked art and what it meant. Beauty made life all the better. People say it is a waste of time, but they are the ones who do not see the effect such things have on the common man.

As she walked the halls, she found herself staring and almost everything. With the exception of the floating skull that was following her. She wanted to crush that thing, but sadly she couldn't. Osiris said it was a surveillance device for the Chapter. Without it she would be detained and locked in a containment ward.

It still baffled her just how big these ships are. The size alone made her head spin on how the hell they were built. Then there were the people. Most looked like professional soldiers. They acted that way. There was one other thing about them Summer found strange. There was a close fraternity among the different castes of crew. Those who managed the deck guns were so close they acted like family. This was a city in space. It was beautiful in its own unique way. Purpose and community were here in abundance. Even though the conditions were far from the best the people still looked proud. They had meaning in their lives.

"When I get home, I'm going to have so many stories for my Little Dragon and Rosebud." She muttered to herself.

After walking down near endless corridors, taking lifts and a small tram system built into the spine of the ship, they found their way to the forge deck where the Archmagos has sequestered himself after he had completed his operations on all who were compromised by Trazyn.

Summer was staring at the machinery around her. There were several large workbenches around her. All of them looked used. Beside them were a variety of processing equipment made for molding and reshaping metals. Then there were the more refined stands for the more delicate parts of all technology. Summer knew that any advanced technology was more sensitive than a clock with a thousand small gears. Every piece and component had to be shaped to the micrometer if you expected anything to work as it was supposed to.

They called this place a forge, but it looked more like a communal workshop. A place where people could come to fix their equipment and perhaps make some improvements. The thought of such places brough back memories of her teenage years. All those days spent in the forge of the local blacksmith. Constantly trying and failing to create her ideal weapon. Each fumble, each mistake brining her closer to creating her beloved Ivory Dorn. Those times she spent with her mother as they repaired weapons together and distributed them to the villagers. Those were the times when she genuinely believed she was making a difference.

After she became a full time huntress things felt different. When she saved a village, a knot formed in her stomach. Every time she left a part of her worry for the people she was leaving behind. How long would they stay safe? The Grimm were never gone for good, they would come back eventually. There were many instances where she tried to stay behind longer than planned just to help the people prepare for the future. To show them that sooner or later they might not be able to rely on a huntress to come to their rescue. This consisted of showing them how to protect themselves and what weapons they should use and could make with their limited resources. It was always an interesting challenge for her, but she was ever confident that she could pull it off. The more people that knew how to fight, the less that would die to the Grimm.

But she rarely got the fulfillment of getting these villages prepared. More often than not Ozpin would send Qrow out to get her. This always annoyed her. It conflicted with her personal beliefs on what it means to be a huntress. She was supposed to protect people. To keep them safe, but she knew that in the end she was just one woman. So, teaching those she saves how to protect themselves was the perfect solution. They would experience the terror of the Grimm first hand and understand the value of what she had to say. Ozpin should have agreed to that, but to her shock he never gave the notion any consideration. He believed in the system he created. He thought it worked perfectly. But he never saw the bodies, the broken houses, the blood. He didn't accept that it was not enough. Or perhaps he was only concerned for those stupid relics locked away in the Academies?

This was when she started to believe that she was not really making an impact despite the fact that she continued to save village after village. This went so far that she had earned a name for herself. What that name was never really mattered. It spread hope. Hope that she would come if the people managed to call for help. She became a hero to them, but that only made the failures that much worse. Their hope was a lie. She was no savior, just a woman.

Had she been given a chance to implement her strategy across the villages things would be very different. But she was always cut off by Ozpin and the Council.

It was just like her childhood friend, Hei said. 'The top dogs don't like it when things change without their say-so. It messes with their fancy little lives and makes them angry. They want things their way and they don't care who they have to step on to keep it like that. My dad said that and he's never wrong Sums.'

Summer didn't want to believe him then, she trusted Ozpin to do the right thing but now she wanted to strangle the old wizard.

"Ah. There you are." Came the distorted voice of Belisarius Cawl.

Summer blinked and refocused her attention back to the moment. The Archmagos towered over her, his bulky red robed body casting a shadow over her thanks to the light of the active forge behind him.

"Umm. You wanted to see me Archmagos Cawl." Summer said in a polite manner.

"Come now. I know I technically outrank you but please, we are in private, my dear. Call me Belisarius or just Cawl if you prefer. No need to hinder our productive capabilities with all this formal talk. I get that enough from my adepts and serfs." Laughed the Archmagos.

Summer smiled, at least someone knew how to take it easy without the huntress having to wear down their guard. "Alright Belisarius. Why did you call for me?"

The pallid shadowy face of the Tech-Priest lit up with excitement. "Now I know you have had a trying time. After all, newly emergent psychic abilities must be most stressful. Even with your unusual proficiency with using them."

He turned away, showing of the backplate that dominated his hunched spine. Summer saw so much technology on just that one plate that she could swear that this creature was a walking arsenal.

"Now, it came to my attention that during out exodus from Cadia that you were rummaging through the armory of my old ship and our mutual friend Nicholas has told me that you have an extreme fondness for weapon, is that true?"

Summer smiled nervously. "I suppose so."

The Archmagos turned back to face her. In his metal hands was a long pole with a blade on the end. It had some sort of miniature engine building into the grip. Then Summer realized that it was a halberd.

"Consider this a gift from one kindred spirit to another. I rarely find any outside my order who truly appreciate the works of the Machine God."

Cawl presented the spear to Summer who took it in her hands. It was well balanced despite the added weight from the strange contraption on the front.

She took it in both hands and spun it around to test how well she could move it without any disruption. It would work well enough.

Planting the bud of the pole on the floor she looked up at Cawl who appeared to be pleased with himself. "You made this for me?"

"I did. At first, I was going to create a Force Sword for you but after questioning the Templars I deduced that this would suit you much better. What do you think?"

Summer examined the weapon further. The grip was made of a fine material that she could not properly identify but it gave her a solid hold on it. The blade was wide, similar to her old Ivory, but it was not made of just metal, it had some form of crystal formation inside it.

"It's interesting. But what's with the strange crystals in the blade?"

"Ah. Those are resonant crystals. I weaved them into the blade as composite lattice. This small matrix can be used as a conduit for your psychic abilities. Allowing you to focus your power through the weapon." He paused. "Or that's what it's supposed to do. It's been some time since I last delved into this field of study."

"Wait. Are you telling me I can channel my aura through the spear?"

"Correct."

"And how does that help? I can do that with pretty much any weapon I can touch. How does this make it better?"

Cawl narrowed his eyes at her, accepting this small intellectual challenge. "I'll have you know that this is a common practice for all battle psykers. Can they use their powers in conjunction with regular weaponry? Yes. Can they bring their full powers to bear offensively through them? Most of the time no. Very few in recorded Imperial history have the rare talent to do this. I have kept track of your record, small as it is. Your abilities are more support based."

Summer was about to object but decided not to. Her semblance was a touchy subject. The dreaded Crimson Cloud was not something she ever wanted to use to its fullest extent. Even then he wasn't wrong. Aura strengthens the user's weapons, making them sharper and more resistant to damage, but this was a small thing that was mostly overlooked.

"With this blend of sacred machine and arcane science you can channel your power through the weapon when they are at their fullest. Such is the nature of all Force Weapons. With this you could cut clean through ceramite or even adamantium. You could force the bonding molecules apart as you cleave through armor."

Summer blinked and stared at the blade again. "So, it acts like a disruptor field?"

"In basic terms, yes. When we reach Macragge you may want to study up on the subject as I am certain there is more to it than that. Now! On to the testing!" Cawl bellowed with a small degree of anticipation before turning away.

"Testing?" Summer asked.

"Yes, my dear. Testing. How else are we to determine that your new weapon works as intended? Wait for battle and hope for the best? Malarky, I say."

Cawl faced Summer again, this time he held a large blue metal plate in his hands. "Now, attack this ceramite plate. Channel your powers through the spear."

Summer looked back at Osiris who had been listening in on the whole conversation. He still held onto his neutral expression. Gesell watched on with a curiosity that Summer couldn't help but find adorable.

"Alright." Summer said as she took a ready stance. Both hands were placed on the middle and lower section of the pole to give her more weight of the top, adding to the chopping power.

Focusing her aura through the spear she stared in wonder as the blade lit up with a white glow. Then it hit her, she could feel the weapon somehow, like it was an extension of herself.

With a quick breath she raised the spear and brought it down of the plate. There was a loud crash and Summer felt the pole shake as it burned through the floor plating of the ship.

The ceramite plate in Cawl's hands was split in half.

"Oh, wow it works." Summer said in astonishment. Aura was not this effective unless a semblance was involved.

Cawl laughed and threw the ceramite pieces to the side. "Oh, course it works. I made it. What do you think now? Impressive aye?"

Summer was impressed. Pulling the spear free. She gave it another once over. It was a beautiful weapon for sure, but it wasn't the same. For all the extra power it promised, it could not replace her Ivory. No weapon could.

"Is something the matter?" Cawl asked, noticing the sudden dourness of the huntress' face. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"It's nothing Belisarius. It's just that I don't really feel comfortable using a weapon I didn't make myself. It's a bit of a family tradition." Summer twirled the spear one more time before lining it up as if she were taking aim with a rifle. "And besides, this offers me no ranged options."

At her own words a lightbulb went off in her head. She was in a forge, a workshop with weapons and fresh materials all around her. What's to stop her from recreating her beloved weapon?

"So, you are dissatisfied with my work then." Cawl said sounding slightly dejected.

"Not dissatisfied, just hoping you see room for improvement as I do."

Cawl's dejection vanished, immediately replaced by an intense desire for answers. "What are you saying? That you have a superior design to mine?"

Summer grinned, now it was her turn to brag. "Not superior, just more imaginative. I hope that's not too much for you. If you can't handle it, then I understand."

"Bah!" The Archmagos rose to his full height, like an Ursa offering a challenge. "Young lady, you do not know to whom you speak. I am Belisarius Cawl. I can do anything. If it's a custom order you desire, then I shall execute it to mathematical perfection."

Summer gave the cyborg a smile. "Great. Do you have a sketchpad or something? I want to show you what I need."

Cawl gestured for her to approach the workbench. There she found a large blue parchment for her to sketch on. Behind her was Osiris with Gesell on his shoulder. Cawl stood right behind her.

As she began to illustrate the main body of her precious weapon, Cawl chuckled. "I see what you mean by more imaginative. A multi-purpose, contractible weapon. I have never considered such a thing."

"Think you can help me make it?" Summer inquired as she sketched out the rifle mode of her weapon. "I want to incorporate that crystal lattice into the blade, but I don't understand how the tech works."

The Archmagos laughed like a kindly grandfather. "Of course, of course. You just leave that to me. I'll even provide you with blueprints for the ammunition you'll need. According to what I see, you want something with high penetration, simple enough."

The old tech wizard laughed again as he realized what he was doing. "I must say, this is getting me rather excited. It's been so long since I've been requested to make something so out of the ordinary. It really is quite the blessing."

---

Several days later Summer found herself sitting in the tight passenger bay of a Stormraven once again. Gesell waiting patiently by her side as the large Astartes attack craft soared into the orbit of Macragge. The small feline was the calmest one onboard. Everyone else was on edge when they heard the news.

An armada of Chaos warships were engaging the Ultramar defense fleet around the planet. Summer managed to catch a glimpse of the battle when she boarded the Stormraven. Their weapons filled the void of space with dazzling explosions and bright beams of light. All lethal, all meant to destroy. Both sides wanted nothing more than to destroy the other. There was no mercy when survival was the goal. It was violence on a continental scale. Now she almost regretted not familiarizing herself with space weaponry while she was in Cawl's company.

Almost.

Summer examined the oval shaped piece of metal on her lap, it had a smooth form with a grip on the flat end that almost made it look like a briefcase. She didn't have the time to have the metal painted in order to resemble its predecessor, but the familiar shape and texture to it was more than a welcome experience given everything she had gone through after losing the original. It did not matter; the first Ivory was gone. There was no point mourning anymore over what she lost. Now she had a new Ivory. An improved Ivory. More durable, greater cutting power, and longer range if Cawl was being honest about stealing schematics on an assassin rife.

As she stared at it, she smiled. It might have only been a month by her clock since the last time she held her weapon, but it felt more like years. Such was the mental impact of refusing to part with her creation. Unless she knew exactly where Ivory was anxiety would plague her.

Now, finally, she felt more like a huntress again. To such an extent that she partially wanted to run into some of those maniacs once they reached the surface just to see how her new baby handles herself.

The more childish part of her wanted to hug it like she did after her first successful hunt with her mother.

'You are in good spirits despite the abysmal situation.' A voice echoed in her mind. Greyfax's voice.

Summer turned her attention to the inquisitor who watched her from the seat closest to the pilot's cockpit.

In response Summer gave Greyfax a smile and replied. 'I'm just happy to feel more like myself again.'

'By yourself, you mean the parts of you that were human?' Greyfax's mental question was accompanied by the raising go her exposed eyebrow.

'Pretty much.' Was all Summer was willing to say on the subject. The stubborn lady had revisited that topic multiple times during their travel before reaching the Ultramarine fortress and it was starting to annoy her. While Greyfax seemed to accept Summer for what she was, the woman continued to probe the huntress for new knowledge to understand exactly what she was dealing with.

This was fine at first, but after Summer spilled the beans and emptied the can of what she knew about her knew physiology Greyfax just kept on going. It was hard to answer questions that you had not answer for.

As for the telepathy, it was a useful trick, and the huntress was extremely thankful to Greyfax for helping her figure out how to manage it without pouring all of her focus into it. She definitely won't be abusing it in any way to scare the pants off Elaine or the other guardsmen in the room.

Among them was Nicholas, who had just recently awakened from his coma. Given fresh life by potent stimulants, Nicholas looked good as new, even though he was still recovering from the procedure. Lyron had made it a point to inform Nicholas to avoid straining himself at all costs. The graft was successful but overexerting the new organ this early could be dangerous. This meant avoiding exercise of any kind until the Apothecary ran a full check up on him and confirmed the stability of the Schnee's lungs.

Not ideal given the situation, but it was better than before. Now he had the chance to find a safe place to hold out until the fighting was over.

Beside him was Finlay, who was also on the mend. But Cawl had somehow made the Tanith man recover faster despite having his skull opened. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Having someone cut open your skull like a tuna can and fumble with the insides. Chilling.

The two had become companions since they met in the catacombs back on Cadia. It was nice to see that people could be so similar despite being born half a galaxy apart.

Elaine and her squad were present too. Tarn and Alexa were taking stock of their ammunition stores in the event that they were somehow shutdown. Granted the odds of survival are slim, but if they do survive, they will still need guns and bullets.

Elaine had been quiet for most of the trip. She was nervous for some reason. When they touched down Summer would ask her about it.

The final two passengers were the largest. Osiris and Lothar both fully armored and looking good as new. The Custodian even had his armor buffed, making the gold shine slightly brighter. When asked why, he commented that the Ultramarines appreciate when their guests make themselves presentable. Lothar chided that behavior, calling it unnecessary when outside of sacred ceremony. Both had boarded this Stormraven because of their oaths to protect Summer, while the rest of the super soldiers, angelic maiden and cyborg frankenstein stayed with the Eldar, not trusting them to behave if they were left alone.

There was a screen at the front of the chamber where they showed a green display of a what could be seen in front of the craft. Summer found the level of destruction to be both awe inspiring and terrible. Ships exploded in blinding coronas of light, shattering them completely. The debris of the once proud ships falling into Macragge's gravity well.

Once they entered the planet's atmosphere, the shuttle began to shake. It was small at first but as the Stormraven plunged into the atmosphere it soon became so violent that Summer had to hold Gesell to her chest to keep her from bouncing around the cabin.

Nicholas looked like he was in deep concentration, and he did his best to control his breathing. Once again, Summer reached out with her aura. It alleviated much of the tension assailing his body, and even through the shaking, he managed to throw a grateful smile her way.

On the view screen a rapid pattern flowed downward as the craft descended. It took Summer a moment to figure out that the gunship had caught fire due to reentry. But it only lasted for a few minutes. Whatever this thing was made of it surely did its job right.

Once the flames died own, the picture shifted to a breathtaking vista of could covered mountains. If they weren't in the middle of a war, she might have considered some sightseeing. As they closed in on the mountains, a city came into view amidst their peaks. Even in the middle of a battle its artistry shone through. As the mountains and city grew rapidly larger along with the shrinking distance, Summer could make out more of the city. It was under heavy assault. Lit form end to end from the puzzle flare of flak batteries, Summer only balked at the reason for such firepower being utilized so frivolously. Wave after wave of enemy drop pods were falling towards the city. Were they just hurling troops at the defenses, hoping that they'll break?

All around the walls, the Stormraven's cameras could pick up the sights of other aeronautics craft engaged in dogfights. It was a constant blur of activity on both ground and air.

"We are closing in on the Magna Civitas." Came the clipped voice of the Astartes pilot. "An escort is waiting at the landing pad to guide you to the Fortress of Hera. From there my duty is done."

"Thank you for your assistance, Ultramarine." Osiris said.

"Do not thank me, Custodian. I am doing as I was commanded. The Lord Macragge awaits you and from what I have heard, he is not pleased."

"I would imagine having your homeworld besieged by an army of traitors to be enough to put anyone in a foul mood." The shuttle shook as a drop pod nearly crashed into them from above, causing the craft to tilt slightly.

Summer nearly smiled as Osiris' remark almost sounded like a joke. The pilot found it amusing. "Maybe. But that only makes your situation all the more perilous. He has little patience for ambiguous arrivals while Macragge requires defending."

"Then we will be sure not to waste his time." Lothar said flatly and Summer felt a small lump form in her throat. Only now realizing that the situation had the possibility to turn hostile. She shoved such feelings aside. All she could do was hope that they could convince this Lord Macragge to help them find the warrior from her vision.

Then the shuttle began to shift and jerk violently as it performed ariel maneuvers to avoid the flak fire of the city's guns. Summer clung on to Gesell, Ivory and her restraints for dear life. As did everyone bare Lothar and Osiris. The shaking returned, somehow more violent than before.

Then in a single moment, the craft evened out. They had made it through the flak. The subtle push of inertia could be felt, signaling that they were decelerating. Slowly, the Stormraven halted its flight and turned it into a gentle hover. With a loud thumb, the compartment shook, and the ramp hissed with decompression before opening.

Releasing their restraints, the occupants marched outside. Summer was the last to go. Glancing at her new Ivory one last time before clipping it to her belt, concealing it beneath her cloak.

---

Nicholas marched at an accelerated pace to keep up with the rest of the party. The pain that bloomed in his chest was ever-present but bearable as it no longer hampered his breathing with sudden spasms of pain. By that only reminded him of the price he had paid. In exchange for a cure for his illness, he had to risk everything for the next few days. If his lungs collapsed on him then he was done. Even Summer's healing semblance, which could patch up gunshot wounds and las burns, would fail. Still, it was worth it in his eyes.

He weighed the options. According to Lyron, Nicholas only had a few days before his lungs were beyond salvaging. Once he hit that stage, it would only be a matter of time before he slowly choked to death on his own blood. If they could find a suitable replacement organ on the planet, Nicholas was unwilling to trade the life of another for his own. If it was his time then so be it, he was not so selfish as to kill just to postpone the inevitable.

However, he did consider himself blessed. Now he had a chance of recovery. The doctors back on Remnant offered to try this procedure, but all their attempts to clone his lungs came back as failures. He had invested a good sum into their research, not for himself, but for his family. Despite his stoic acceptance of his mortality, he wasn't ready to leave them yet. Not until he was certain that their future was secure without him.

When he found himself in space besides Summer, a part of him gave up. Believing that he might not make it back home even if he survived this insane war purely because the search might take longer than he had. Now he had some hope that he would make it. Some hope that he could see Willow and his grandchildren again.

"The fighting's gotten this far in?" He heard Finlay say as they walked across a large courtyard.

As if the volume on a television suddenly turned on, Nicholas became aware of the constant thunder of guns all around him. At the edge of the yard were large walls. Dozens of Astartes in blue fired down over the parapets.

"Looks like it." Nicholas answered as the ground beneath him shook from the shockwave of an explosion on the walls.

"I do hope all this trouble was worth it." The Tanith born said with a seriousness that he reserved for when he was in the thick of it. This would happen right before a battle began. Finlay had a nose for smelling trouble before it happened. Nicholas learned that it was best to trust one's instincts when they had proven themselves correct on a reliable basis.

"Me too. Whomever we're looking must be quite the man if even aliens want to help us." Nicholas said in an attempt to lift his friend's spirit. A drink would have worked better but they ran out when they were trudging through the ice.

Finlay's expression was still stiff. "I'm still havin a hard time believing it. If the lad we're looking for is here, then why are the Astartes having so much trouble dealing with this mess? Aren't we looking for somebody who can take on the Despoiler?"

"I honestly don't know." Nicholas looked ahead. Seeing the large container that trailed behind the Archmagos. For whatever reason, the Tech-Priest has deemed its value above that of his ship, else he would not have dragged it through the ice. "Perhaps we are here to deliver him a weapon?"

"If that were the case, I would have used it by now." Finlay countered.

"Fair point." The sky lit up as a fighter exploded overhead. Whether it was a friend or enemy was impossible to determine from the falling wreckage.

"What does this chap look like?" Finlay asked as they left the courtyard and entered a passageway made of marble. Nicholas had to admit, for a fortress this place was quite the sight. In fact, it felt more like a palace than a fortress.

"I'm not sure. Summer didn't give a very good description of him. All she said was that he was dressed in blue and gold armor."

Finlay gave a mirthless chuckle. "Sounds like there's lots of marines here to fit that bill."

"Are you alright?" Nicholas asked. Finlay had his down moments, but his mood was dourer than the man usually gave off.

"I'm fine." He said, turning slightly apologetic. "Having your brain poked at doesn't lift your spirits. Reminds me of what happened to Major Rawne. Some crazy psyker cut open his head and tried to brainwash him or something. Was an ugly thing to see."

"How are you coping?"

"Better now that I'm moving again. But a few drinks would help." The Tanith-born said with his usual grin.

Nicholas chuckled as they made their way up a massive flight of stairs. Nicholas' breathing quickened and the pain bloomed in response. "I'll be sure to find a nice bar for you when we get the chance." He forced out, trying to mask his discomfort.

Noticing his friends struggles, Finlay grabbed the Schnee patriarch and supported him by the shoulder. "Easy now." Finlay said before Nicholas could protest.

"I can't share that drink with you if ye decide to keel over on me now."

Nicholas watched his bearded companion grin and found himself reflecting the expression. The two stepped in unison, even though it was Finlay hauling most of the weight. With laborious steps they kept up with the group as they climbed the stairway. Ignoring a squad of battle worn Astartes as they marched in the opposite direction.

Finlay did not mind. This was something he needed after he discovered what happened to him. Captured by some Xenos and dragged to a hellhole to be used as cannon fodder. The implications were not lost on him. Out of all those of the Tanith First and Only to be taken to that cave, only he survived. As for what happened to Gaunt and the rest of the Ghosts, he had no idea. For all he knew he could be the last of the Tanith-born.

That was why Nicholas was such a breath of fresh air. He was a simple man. Yes, he had made a fortune on his homeworld, but he started off with nothing. Not like all the pansies that cling to the greatness of their bloodlines or some other dog shite. Nicholas knew what it was like to get his hands dirty for something he truly believed in. It kept him grounded, almost like Gaunt.

When the party reached the stop of the stairs, they were greeted by a massive archway that led into a round circular chamber with a frescoed floor. Above them was a giant glass dome, showing them the carnage that took place in the sky. Trasnparesteel. Nicholas corrected. Tougher than glass to the point that a Beringel wouldn't be able to break through it.

Vast banks of ornamental consoles dominated the center of the chamber, their screens flashing green and offering two- and three-dimensional displays of different aspects of the battle raging outside to the men and women examining them. All preparing to present this information to their lord.

There were those horrid servitors again. Plugged into chairs at the consoles' screens. All chattering in some incomprehensive static gibberish. Just seeing them disgusted and horrified him. There were more of them running around, many serving different roles. Even something as menial as taking notes, if he was judging the ones who followed people around with a parchment and quill in hand. That he found slightly amusing. For an advanced civilization they still used something as old fashioned as parchment and quills. Somethings just never go out of style.

Above the mass of computer banks was a green three-dimensional projection of what Nicholas could only guess was the fortress itself. The number of different symbols and runes dotting the image of the building made it look like it was constantly rearranging itself. As for the space above, it looked like two different swarms of flying insects clashing with each other. One side red, the other green, and unfortunately there were many more reds than greens.

Assessing the display were a quartet of power armored figures. The first one looked to be a more decorated Space Marine than most of the Astartes in the forest, but somehow, he appeared the most plain compared to the other three, even with the flowing red cape that he wore. The sight made him glance at the huntress among them for a moment before turned back to examine the rest

The second was also an Ultramarine but he looked different. Other than his exposed face, his head bore some kind of strange helmet that sported a variety of glowing cables. His armor was layered over by red and cream robes. He had no weapon with him, unless you counted the large staff with a horned skull at the top. It wasn't just looks that made him different. There was just something in the air around him that made Nicolas slightly more wary.

The same goes for the third figure. This one was not adorned with the blue and gold of the Space Marines who owned this fortress. His armor was larger and bulkier than the previous two. His armor was a shining silver with hints of blue shimmering across its surface. In his right hand was a giant hammer. He was also robbed in a similar manner to the previous Marine, but he also had an absurdly large tome hanging by a strap at his side. His face was exposed too, and he looked to be the oldest of the four. Still looking fierce even with a snow-white beard. There was a sort of scroll across the front of his armor. The letters depicted on it spelled out a name. Voldus.

Then there was the last one, who was also in armor that made him just as large as the silver Astartes. He stood closest to the hologram, assessing it with a critical eye. He carried no obvious weapons, but the pair of massive gauntlets he had would surely count as lethal even without the guns that were mounted beneath each wrist. Out of the four, he looked to be the leader.

When the abnormal group entered the room, all the activity ceased. All eyes fell to them. The humans and their servitor aids all bowed to the quartet of Astartes and formed a corridor across the chamber, allowing the pilgrims to approach unimpeded.

Once the group had reached the quartet, Marshal Amalrich bent down to one knee and placed his sword tip on the floor, his hands resting on the cross guard. The rest of the Templars did the same, Nicholas could almost feel the reverence in the act itself. Whomever this warrior was, he commanded respect.

The inquisitor took a bow too, which surprise Nicholas as the woman had not deigned to show anyone much respect at all. Celestine and her two bodyguards did the same. Following their lead Summer mimicked the Saint's actions.

"Now I understand why coming here was so urgent." Finlay said quietly as he too bowed to the Astartes. Not wanting to stand out in a situation he barely understood he took a bow too. Following him were the Cadians.

The only ones who did not bow were the Eldar, the Archmagos and Osiris. All looking impassive and unimpressed by the man before them.

Then the red caped Astartes spoke up. He announced the names of everyone in the group. One by one they stood. Once the announcement was over an awkward silence fell upon all of them as explosions lit up the sky above the chamber.

The Archmagos spoke first. "Greetings, Chapter Master Marneus Calgar, Lord of Macragge. I am Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl."

"I have been told you were coming, Archmagos. You and your strange assortment of allies." The leader of the Ultramarines said. "But as I am in the middle of a battle, I shall be blunt, I have no recollection of meeting you, nor have I ever made any sort of pact with the Priests of Mars. The only reason I allowed this meeting was the urging of Chief Librarian Tigurius. As he implied, your coming would bring great upheaval. So, answer and do it quickly Dominus. What business do you have with me?"

Nicholas could tell the man was impatient. Why would he not be? His home was under siege and from his point of view some random strangers demanded a word with him in the middle of a battle.

From the side. He saw Celestine look concerned for a moment, but then her worry bled away as she glanced at Summer. Nicholas also saw a look of confusion on her face as she whispered something to the Saint. Celestine's features lit up in realization, and she almost looked joyful.

"I have no business with you." The Archmagos said in a flat and factual tone.

Nicholas saw Finlay flinch before he whispered. "What?"

The rest of the group also shifted with uncertainty. Only Summer, Celestine, Osiris, Cawl and the Eldar remained unbothered.

"What's he mean?" Finlay questioned, more to himself than anyone else. "Were in the room with a Hero of the Imperium. Calgar is a bloody legend."

"He's that impressive?" Nicholas asked his friend.

"If you knew half the crazy shite they said he could pull off, you'd be telling stories of him to yer grandkids."

Now, Nicholas knew Finlay was being serious. Nicholas had made a point not to bring up his grandchildren too often as the thought of not being able to get back to them would start to depress him. Better time spent focusing on the moment, so he had a better chance of actually getting there.

"I have traveled across the galaxy not to attend you, honorable Lord of Macragge. I have come to attend the Lord of Ultramar."

Caw gestured with his axe to the large cargo container mounted on treads. It hissed and whirred with power, as if eager to be nearing it objective to complete its purpose. "This Auto-Reliquary I bring with me, carries the means of our salvation. It must be delivered to the Shrine of Roboute Guilliman himself."

The outcries at this statement nearly threw the room into anarchy. Many of the workers cried in distress as if hearing some great disaster had fallen on them. The servitor scribes and their masters worked franticly to capture this moment in ink and parchment.

The Templars remained silent, but something about their posture told Nicholas that they were not pleased. The Cadians did not show any approval either. Elaine could be seen placing her hand on the pommel of her power saber.

Again, their little group was divided, and Summer was on Cawl's side. The Eldar were unbothered. The one in the red armor, the Visarch stood stock still, mirroring Osiris. As for the woman, Yvraine, she wore a faint smile on her alabaster features. As if she were enjoying some kind of joke.

"You've got to be fething joking." Finlay said in what sounded to be disbelief.

Nicholas wanted to question his friend, but the clang of heeled boots stopped him. Out of everyone, Greyfax was the most outspoken of her disapproval. Marching up to the mechanical giant she barked out a demand. "I was never told of this! You'd best explain why."

"There will be order here!" Came the vox amplified voice of the caped Astartes. "Do you all forget where you are? You stand in the Fortress of Hera and shall maintain your decorum until you leave. We shall not suffer such disrespect in the house of our Primarch."

Greyfax stared at the Space Marine before backing away from the Archmagos and glaring at Celestine and Summer. Knowing somehow that, they were also aware of what was going on.

"First Captain Agemman." Calgar said, controlling his own sudden rise of anger spurred by Cawl's declaration. "You wish to state your opinion on the matter."

"I do, my Lord. Put simply, I do not trust these newcomers, nor the strange machine they bring with them. With such immediate danger all around us, as well as the furious battle raging outside. I believe we only have one practical option at this time. They should all be placed into confinement and their mysterious package locked in stasis vault until the Techmarines can safely determine its contents. As for the Xenos, I propose we simply kill them. As they pose a threat by being here."

Nicholas felt a small bead of sweat run down his brow. Confinement did not sound too bad, but he knew he was stuck with some stubborn people. Besides, he knew the stakes. They were too high to back down.

Celestine was next to speak. Her voice somehow echoing across the space with a natural calm. "Please, Lord Astartes, we do not come to add to your woes, but to lift them from your shoulders. I and my friend have had a vision."

She gestured to Summer who stood a shy step forward. Then Celestine continued. "This vision was given to us by our Most Holy Lord. Our mission has been ordained by the God-Emperor himself."

Celestine stopped short as the cocking of several weapons sounded in a disjointed chorus. Astartes that stood at the chamber's edge, closed in, their bolters trained on both Celestine and Summer. Greyfax also had her bolter aimed at the armored woman.

This was the signal that their party had used up their time to speak and plead their case. All eyes fell on Calgar as he looked to his Chief Librarian for wisdom.

Nicolas felt the tension in the room, and it made his heart rate soar. Forcing him to control his breathing to compensate.

The Astartes with the staff, the one called Tigurius contemplated his next words before speaking. Nicholas could feel it, his words resonated with power and the wisdom of a man who had experienced the world. "I must remind you, my Lord, that I had experienced troubling visions right before the enemy fell upon us. I saw a flight of iron birds take wing from a distant crimson orb full of churning cogs. In these visions, these avians had soared through fire and shadow that spilled through a raptured castle gate of colossal size. They clutched a blazing sword in their jagged claws and both their wings and eyes shone with holy light as they flew towards Ultramar. Through the ruptured gateway I saw a staring slit-pupiled eyes. As the birds neared Macragge a great maw streaked out from the eye and surrounded them, ready to bite down and crush them. These visons and the arrival of our guests are no coincidence. I believe that these concern reports of the fall of Cadia, and the attack on Ultramar. But now I am convinced that the visions also pertain to these travelers."

The Librarian turned to the group. "I am willing to vouch for them. Even the Xenos. I believe their arrival to be the work of the Emperor's will made manifest."

There were hushed whispers among the workers. It was strange. Nicholas was not a skeptic, but he didn't exactly trust when people said they saw visions. To him, that usually meant that the person experiencing them was taking something he shouldn't have.

Calgar gave a solemn nod. "Very well then. I grant you all permission to speak once more. Tell us of your purpose here."

At his words, the Astartes around them all lowered their bolters in practiced unison.

Nicholas watched them return to their posts, as they stood statue still at the edges of the chamber, he felt amused. For a moment he wondered what those military officers in Atlas would react to these warriors. Then he remembered a young officer, efficient and focused. After his return from the Beacon Huntsmen Academy, he quickly became known as Atlas' rising star. Nicholas had only met him once, but if his memory served then the lad's name was Ironwood. Nicholas wondered if that single minded boy could manage what these giants were doing.

So lost in his thoughts, he did not listen to the explanation being offered to Marneus Calgar by Amalrich, Greyfax and Celestine.

What brought his attention back to the matter was the nudge he felt as Summer stood by the two men. Nicholas knew why she stood at the back. The talks that were happening did not include her as she had nothing to add.

But there was another reason. Nicholas could feel it. Feel them. Two of the Astartes were staring in his general direction. The one called Tigurius and the one in silver armor. Both watched Summer intently while Calgar repeatedly questioned Cawl on what his Auto-Reliquary contained.

The silver Astartes stared at the huntress with a neutral expression, while unnerving, it was better than the hostility Summer seemed to get from most who took note of her in this Imperium. Tigurius was slightly more relaxed than the other. Looking almost pleased.

"What are they?" Summer asked. "I know they are Astartes, but they feel different. Especially the silver one."

"I have no idea, by now you should know this stuff to the point that you should be able to explain it to me." Nicholas answered.

"There ain't no understandin psykers. Even Astartes ones." Finlay commented quietly. "Some act fine, but their all exposed to the same kinds of madness."

"So, they're like Greyfax?"

"Was that a joke lass?" Finlay asked in a mix of weariness and amusement. "I'd be careful saying that with her in the room."

"No…" Summer paused before giving a tired smile. "I mean they are psykers like Greyfax."

"I think we should all be quiet." Nicholas warned, gesturing to Calgar. "He looks like he's about to say something."

"Yeah, right after the inquisitor finishes threatening to execute the Techy." Finlay said sourly.

"I detect some bitterness in that statement." Nicholas noted.

"Is something the matter Fin?" Summer said using the nickname she ascribed to him as an attempt to appeal to his humor and it worked.

"It's nothing too bad. The first inquisitor I met wanted to execute our regiment's piper. She thought he was a witch cause he was right about predicting things. The lad was smart. Maybe smarter than the whole lot of us."

"That appears to be a trend in the Imperium." Summer noted. "Anyone who stands out as abnormally gifted is under suspicion of being a witch."

"Yer not wrong. But to be fair, most to the psykers I've met fit the bill. But the Inquisition can still be wrong. That woman weren't a bad lass but I'm glad she didn't get what she wanted. Who'd play the pipes for us as we won another battle? It's just not the same without em."

"You like musical accompaniment too?" Summer asked with slight delight.

"Our whole regiment did. Even the arses among us. Makes us fight all the harder, hearing the pipes of Tanith in our ears as we gun down traitors. What sane man wouldn't like that?"

"I know right. My team would have a roster of songs we would pick from before a mission."

Nicholas slammed his hands on the shoulders of his comrades to silence them. "Quiet."

Calgar had raised one of his massive gauntlets to make it known that he wished to speak. The room went whisper quiet before he delivered his judgement.

"I have heard your tales and made my decision on the matter. Despite the fact that your Archmagos refuses to tell me what he has within that storage unit. I cannot deny that there is a sense of providence in the events that lead you all here. Perhaps you are all indeed sent by our Emperor in this dark hour. Normally I would refuse outright and return to the battle at hand, but we live in strange times. The fact that the traitors target Macragge as you made your way here while being dogged by the Despoiler himself is a sign that Abaddon too believes what you believe. As such I shall allow you to be taken to the Shrine of Guilliman. But it shall be under heavy guard. If we detect a hint of treachery, I shall not hesitate in slaying you all myself."

---

Elaine Blackwell walked up the flight of stairs with a measured pace and a posture that displayed a sense of reverence. The firelight of the ceremonial braziers, ever lit to honor the fallen Primarch of the Ultramarines, grew brighter the higher she climbed. Macragge's sun was beginning its slow retreat behind the mountains, putting emphasis on the lit path before them. Further displaying its importance.

Elaine gulped down a breath of air as she moved closer to the shrine. Even now, after all these years of service out of the schola, she still did not feel worthy. Never once. But that would not stop her from completing her duty.

She was charged with the protection of Summer Rose, as was the final order given to her by Lord Castellan Creed. By her honor and the Cadian blood that flowed through her veins she would fulfil it.

In fact, it was the only reason Strang did not constantly try to have Summer killed every time she let her guard down. That and the fact that the huntress had managed to win over the entire regiment by now. If they had to choose, Elaine would bet on them choosing the huntress over Strang and he knew it.

Even though Elaine was ever loyal to the mentor that chose her, even she had to admit that while a commissar had an extensive reach when it came to their authority, she found that his method of maintaining discipline often put him in a bad light. Did she think he was incorrect when he had to shoot a coward who runs? No. They deserved it and were put to use as an example for the rest. But his methods of discipling the regiment were overzealous. More than once she caught guardsmen giving her the stink eye because she had the commissar's cap.

When Elaine finally becomes a commissar, she plans to try a slightly different approach. While she still viewed the huntress as naïve, Elaine could not argue that some of her suggestions concerning the management of the regiment had solid merit. Commissars are meant to be an example to all other members of the guard. In both iron discipline and inspiring presence. She had read up on a commissar by the name of Ciaphas Cain who had managed to pull this off. His regiment valued him to such an extent that they would go out of their way to save him when he was in an unfavorable situation. Such was a rarity for commissars. It was no surprise that man was named a Hero of the Imperium.

Did she ever think she would reach something close to that?

Elaine shook the thoughts away. Such things are not worth considering. Duty mattered, not glory.

Still, the situation before her was profoundly confusing and her thoughts were echoed from the whispers of her squad marching behind her.

"I can't believe were going to the shrine of a Primarch." Alexa said, almost sounding like a giddy schoolgirl.

"I know. What are the odds?" Tarn chuckled. "It's thanks to Summer. Without her we'd all be dead on the streets of Kasr Kraf. Now here we are walking up the steps to one of the most holy sites in the Imperium."

"Yeah, that's great and all but why are we up here?" A guardsman named Stig spoke up. "I mean we know she had a vision. Said she saw an Ultramarine, and we're on Macragge, surrounded by Ultramarines."

He was not being metaphorical. The guard that Calgar had assigned to act as their escort was quite extensive. Honor Guard, company veterans and even terminators. It was clear the Chapter Master was taking this matter extremely seriously and Elaine expected nothing less from a legend like him. But that begged the question. Who were they looking for if not the legend?

It made no sense to go to the Shrine of Guilliman. While Elaine was honored to be able to so much as catch a glimpse of the sacred place, it did not remove her concern.

Deciding to be proactive, Elaine skipped a few steps to bring herself to the side of the huntress who was conversing with Nicolas and that bearded drunk.

Tapping Summer's shoulder, the huntress turned to look at the cadet. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Summer said with a slightly forced smile, she was nervous too.

"Are you certain of who you saw in your vision? Can you recall the feature of the Astartes you saw?"

"Yup." Said Summer without a moment's hesitation.

"And you're certain it wasn't him?" Elaine pointed at the power armored form of Calgar who headed their little pilgrimage. "Or anyone else here?"

"It wasn't him I saw. I told Celestine the same back in the hologram room."

"It's called a strategium." Elaine corrected, wanting Summer to become familiar with Imperial terminology.

"Right, sorry. But yeah. It's not him."

"How do you know he's not here among us? He could be armored." Elaine suggested, hoping to attain some clarity before they entered the shrine and the Archmagos has another personality malfunction. Upsetting a dozen Astartes was not something she wanted to do. It was one of the first lessons Strang taught her. Never upset a Space Marine, even when they're wrong.

Summer stared into the sky, the shimmer of the void shields creating the ripple effect of water. "His armor was very distinct. It would stand out even in this crowd. Besides, he was taller than a Space Marine."

"Taller than an Astartes? Hard to believe." Elaine said with a slight grumble. "How much taller? Or can't you tell?"

"Head and shoulders taller, plus a few inches." Summer said with a certainty that almost unnerved Elaine.

"How do you know that if he was the only one in your vision?"

"I just do. It's hard to explain. For some reason I just knew once I got a look at him. It's like a memory that suddenly came back to me after seeing something after a long time. Only I never had the memory to begin with."

"That is strange." Elaine admitted.

Summer cocked a grin. "Stranger than actual daemons on the loose, or the fact we're working with aliens? If you think what you're experiencing is weird, try experiencing it from my end."

Elaine actually felt like grinning back. Summer had a point. "I guess you're right. These are strange times. I mean…"

The cadet paused, the excitement within almost burst past her years of commissariat training. "I mean we are going to see the burial sight of a Primarch. If we're fortunate, the Astartes might bring us close enough to see him."

"Excuse me." Nicholas spoke up. "But I've been meaning to ask. What is a Primarch?"

Elaine looked at the man as if he had grown a second head but shook away the bafflement. The splendor of the moments to come had made her forget who she was talking to. But before Elaine could continue, the Librarian called for silence as they had arrived at entrance to the shrine.

As they closed in on the doors to the shrine, Elaine could not help but glance back. At the rear of their column stood the inquisitor. Her Condemnor Boltgun in her hand, ready for use. Elaine had heard of the reputation of the Inquisition. None of it was good. Greyfax had authority, more than any commissar, but that only went so far when you constantly leveraged it. The Inquisition was immensely powerful, but Greyfax was still one woman. An intimidating and incredibly stubborn woman, but still a woman. She had her limits, as did the limits of strain her authority could handle.

Walking closely besides her were the Templars. They had their weapons in hand too. Were that of the same mind as the inquisitor? If they were, would they kill Summer? They wouldn't. They took an oath to Celestine to protect her. Then again, if they thought the Saint was corrupt would that render their oath null and void? And even if that scenario came to be, Summer didn't know about the Eldar or what Cawl was planning. But when has innocence ever been a valid excuse in the Imperium?

Reaching the pillared doors of the shrine, Calgar stood before them and sent a signal for them to be opened. With reverent slowness, the stone doors parted, and they stepped inside.

The interior of the shrine was enormous. A vaulted sepulchral through which a warlord titan could have walked without hinderance. Marble columns held aloft a ceiling of stained armorglass.

The deeds of the Primarch of the Ultramarines were depicted in spectacular freezes and statuary all around. All artfully arranged around the chamber and lit by electro sconces to give the images even more gravitas. Huge braziers of ceremonial incense burned throughout the shrine. Lacing the air with subtle scents, while cherub visage loud hailers spilled a steady background murmur of reverent prayers. This truly was a place of worship. A shrine to a fallen god.

"So, this man is a Primarch?" Nicholas commented as he walked past one of the impressive statues.

"Calling him a man diminishes his grandeur." Elaine said, ignoring the disapproval in her heart at the lack of respect. "But yes. He is. One of the God-Emperor's sons."

"A god having children? That sounds poetic. I imagine this figure must have been quite imposing. Was he actually that tall?"

The thud of golden boots preluded the answer to Nicholas' question. "He was." Osiris said not bothering to look at the statuary at all. His focus was set straight forward.

Elaine only just remembered that the Custodian was among them. She was slipping far too many times today. Then she realized something. The Custodian was locked in stasis throughout the ages. "Pardon me, Lord Custodian, but did you perhaps know the Primarch?"

"Not personally. I was present when the Emperor found him on this world ten millennia ago. But I never got close to him as my duties tied me to the actions of my Tribune. Ultimately never speaking with him or any of his kin. If we were to meet now, he would likely see me as any other of my brothers."

Elaine knew this. She knew the Custodian had walked the stars at the God-Emperor's side before he ascended to the Golden Throne at the end of the Great Heresy.

"His kin?" Nicholas asked. "That means there are more than one?"

"Correct. There were more and I have been in a room with several of them. But from what I have been told, none of them live to this day." Osiris turned his helm to a statue. "Quite the surprising news. For all their bluster and flaws, they were the apex of their fields. Even a collection of my brothers would struggle to manage the efforts of what one could do with casual effort."

Elaine saw Nicholas listen with obvious interest. Turning to another statue, one where the Primarch held a large tome in hand, raising it aloft to show its clear significance. "Only now do I realize how rude I've been. Stepping in a man's tomb and not even bothering to learn his name. Osiris, my boy. You knew this great figure. May I ask you for his name?"

"I'm certain anyone in the room could answer your question, even those among our force. But since you directed this question towards me, I shall answer you. He is the Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion. His name is…"

"Guilliman." Summer started abruptly. "The Avenging Son. Lord of Ultramar."

Elaine stared at the huntress, slightly confused by the sad expression on her face as her silver gaze drifted from statue to statue.

"That… is correct." Osiris said with only a small amount of pause. The closest thing he had to uncertainty.

"Summer." Nicholas said as his face morphed into one of concern. "Are you alright?"

The huntress blinked as she came back to herself. Looking like she's been lost in a trance. Elaine had to fight the practiced reflex to reach for her bolt pistol. "You know his name despite the fact you have never once asked for information on any of the Primarch before. How? Did the Holy Saint tell you?"

"No. I…" Summer shook her head. "I don't know. It just came to me when we stepped through the doors. I…" Summer's attention refocused to the end of the chamber. Almost disregarding the presence of her allies.

"There his is." She murmured.

Elaine looked forward and nearly stopped in her tracks the sight she was blessed to witness. It wasn't just her. The entirety of their pilgrimage, including the Ultramarines, were focused on the splendid figure, enthroned within a pool of pale white illumination.

There upon a throne of marble and gold, sat a towering being. Even sitting he appeared larger than all, other than the disproportionate Archmagos. Esoteric machinery loomed over the throne, umming and whispering as they fed energy through ribbed cables to enfold him in a strange field of light.

The being was in some of the most ornate power armor Elaine had ever seen. It spoke of the importance of office and he necessity of battle. His left hand was a massive gauntlet that looked to crush an Astartes helmet with careless ease. Across the being's knees lay a sword. By the Emperor, what a sword. It was the most exquisitely crafted blade she had ever seen. Then there was the sheer size of it. The blade looked to be over three long meters in length. So large that only the figure on the throne could hope to wield it.

The being sat as if in repose, his eyes were closed. While he looked to be peacefully sleeping on his throne, everyone felt the force of his presence. The effect it had on Elaine gave her the desire to drop to her knees in prayer. A part of her wanted to give thanks to He on Terra for this honor.

"By the forests of Tanith." Finlay muttered in awe.

"Roboute Guilliman." Osiris said. "It would appear that he is not dead after all."

"Is that his full name?" Nicholas asked, while he was affected by the sleeping Primarch's presence, he felt it to a lesser degree than the others in the chamber. "Roboute?"

Summer blinked as she registered what her fellow Remnite was implying and sighed. "Yes. That's his first name."

"Is something the matter? Why do you look so amused, Nicholas?" Osiris asked.

Elaine was curious too. Nicholas had a slight grin on his face as after he took in the Primarch's name.

Summer stopped him from answering with a glare that Elaine had given many times. It roughly translated to 'don't you dare.'

Receiving the message, Nicholas turned to the splendid image of the Primarch once again. "What is that light around him?"

"That would be a stasis field." Osiris answered. "From what I can see from here, he got into a battle that left him severely injured."

"Yup." Summer affirmed her eyes fixed on the Primarch.

Elaine was aware of the woman's almost superhuman eyesight and was eager to hear what she had seen.

"His throat's been slit." The huntress stated.

"You have good eyes." Came a new voice.

Just beyond the column of pilgrims walked the Space Marine Librarian from the strategium. Elaine was not sure how long he had been keeping pace with them but was unsure as to how much of their conversation he had heard. But he looked to be in good spirits despite the war raging outside the chamber.

"I bring greetings from my Chapter Master, Custodian." Chief Librarian Varro Tigurius gave a slight bow as they continued their walk.

"My thanks, Librarian Tigurius. I apologize for not speaking earlier, but I must admit my voice would not have made that procession run any more smoothly than it did."

"You believe so? Then why are you here if not to add your voice to the credibility of your cause?"

"If you desire to know how I came to be here, simply ask Inquisitor Greyfax. Her tale is the same as mine, only shorter. As for what the Archmagos intends to do, I am just as blind to his intentions as you."

"Hmm. I see." Tigurius looked at Summer. "You are correct in your assessment. Our gene father was mortally wounded in a battle with his traitorous brother, Fulgrim. Our brothers of ages passed managed to place him in stasis before he drew his last breath. Our Primarch has remained here ever since."

"He crossed blades with Fulgrim? That would explain why he ended up like this." Osiris commented.

"I would watch my words." Tigurius warned. "You may be a Custodian, but you stand in our lord's sanctum. I advise you show respect."

"I mean no disrespect with my words, Librarian." Osiris countered plainly. "I have seen Primarchs do battle before. I have seen what they are capable of. I am simply forming my opinions based on what I have seen with my own eyes. If my words have caused you to feel slighted, then I apologize."

The Librarian watched the Custodian for a moment before accepting the explanation and apology before moving on to the mortals in his midst. "And you." He said to Summer.

"Me?" The huntress pointed to herself.

"May I have your name?" He asked politely.

"Umm. It's Summer Rose."

Tigurius turned to the Schnee patriarch and repeated his question, to which Nicholas answered, giving his full name.

Then to Elaine's surprise, the Astartes turned to her next. Wanting to create a good standing, Elaine decided to give him her full rank as well.

"Cadet-Commissar Elaine Blackwell of the Cadian 21st." She stated with military professionalism.

"I understand that Commissar's are permitted to take on such apprentices. That makes me wonder where yours is."

"Colonel-Commissar Strang is back with our regiment. He entrusted me with completing the mission as he had a limited number to the troops he was allowed to send."

"That is understandable." Tigurius nodded.

"When we get back, I'm doing a head count." Summer said bitterly. "That man has an itchy trigger finger."

Elaine wanted to say something, anything to Summer, but she knew that it would be pointless. Summer cared too much for the lives of those who risked their lives for her to allow what she perceived as an unjust death to go unanswered. Not to mention that the troops would not hesitate to confess to her how many of their number fell to Strang's pistol.

Tigurius continued to ask for names. Specifically, those of her squad. Excluding the one Kasrkin than had stayed with them since departing Cadia. At the end of it, Elaine felt a cold sweat run down her face, realizing what the Librarian might have noticed. Greyfax had noticed, so this Astartes psyker certainly could.

She would never get an answer to that question as the column of pilgrims stopped at the foot of the stairs reaching up to the throne. Calgar stood between the pilgrims and the Primarch. The silver Astartes and Tigurius took their places at his side.

Calgar and Tigurius turned to their lord and bowed their heads reverently for a moment, as if in apology for their actions. Then they turned to face the assembled pilgrims.

Elaine could feel the tension that was present in the strategium return even as the explosions of the battle outside reached their ears as dull rumbles. Muffled and distant, but ultimately inescapable. The battle would need to be fought regardless of what was done here.

Calgar took a deep breath to center himself, before he spoke once again. "I have done as you have requested Archmagos, but I shall not acquest to anymore of your demands unless you reveal the purpose of your coming. I shall ask you one last time and you shall answer."

The Chapter Master of the Ultramarines furrowed his brow in a menacing glare. "What is your business here and why did you need to bring that thing into our most sacred of places?"

Cawl bowed his head in acquiescence. "Thank you for your patience, Lord Calgar. I shall explain. As I'm sure none of you are aware. I am quite old; my age is such that I lived to witness the Great Heresy in person before my grand apotheosis into this melding of the blessed machine and the profane flesh. Now my memory engrams have eroded since then but with some assistance I was able to recall a meeting that forced me to undertake one of my greatest works. I was summoned by the Primarch himself before his tragic fall at the hands of his tainted brother."

Cawl raised his Omnissian Axe, pointing it at the enthroned giant. "He and I struck a bargain. In exchange for information only a Primarch was permitted to give Guilliman entrusted me with a great and arduous task. Most of which I am not at liberty to reveal without his express consent."

Elaine almost winced at the sight of Calgar's rising anger, but the Chapter master never got the chance to express it as the Archmagos continued.

"But that is impossible at this juncture as I am here to fulfill the first of two tasks I am obligated to complete."

He turned to the cargo container and gestured to it with one of his metal hands in some dramatic display of showmanship.

"Within this Auto-Reliquary lies a suit of armor, tailor made to fit the Primarch himself. Designed and constructed by me for one purpose."

Cawl turned back to Calgar. "Your father was wise Lord Macragge, he foresaw a say that he may be struck down. As many of his kin have before him. The ancillary systems within this armor have the capability to heal his injuries and breathe new life into his body."

Silence dominated the chamber. Elaine was no exception. This news was momentous. To bring back a living breathing Primarch. One of the greatest sons on the Emperor in the Imperium's hour of need.

Elaine could not believe what she was hearing. Glancing at Summer, the commissar saw a faint knowing smile on her face.

"Did you know about this?" Elaine asked quietly as she leaned closer to the huntress.

"Not exactly." Summer admitted, then she pointed to the slumbering man on the throne. "I just knew that it was him we came here for."

Elaine took a moment to stare at the figure. The mere notion of getting to see a living Primarch filled her with awed wonderment.

Then the Eldar woman stepped up to Cawl's side and spoke as well. "There is one other thing that must be known before such a thing can happen. I am Yvraine, Emissary of Ynnead, the God of the Dead. While I understand you Mon'keigh have your dislike of my kind, but much to both our chagrin, my powers will be vital to the resurrection of your gene-father."

Yvraine glanced around and took in the puzzled looks on her audiences faces, as well as ignoring the rising suspicion on the faces of those Astartes who did not wear helmets.

"Such a miracle cannot be brought about without sacrifice. The machine man you refer to as Archmagos has created something of great artifice but without Ynnead's blessing it will not be enough. The injury wrought upon his body is of the Otherworld. No simple machine of healing can undo such a wound, no matter how efficient it is at healing the mere destruction of the flesh. In order for Roboute Guilliman to live, first he must die."

Where Cawl's words were met with shocked silence and hopeful wonder. Yvraine's was met with a storm. Every Ultramarine raised their weapons and Calgar clenched his gauntlets in barely restrained fury. The only Astartes in the room who did not react with anger was Tigurius.

Even those whom Cawl had brought with him were in uproar. The Cadians did not know what to think. Elaine was of the mind that such a thing could never be allowed, but then there was the coming horde of traitors spilling from the Eye. Not to mention the expansion of the Eye itself. They needed someone like a Primarch to deal with the situation. But on the other hand, the Xenos witch might corrupt him. Both sounded bad but she had no inkling which was worse. The fall of another of the Emperor's Holy Sons by their hand or the Despoiler running rampant across the Imperium.

"Oh feth! This ain't good." Finlay said unslinging his rifle.

"Agreed." Nicholas pulled the Astartes power sword from his back while Summer just stood there.

"The fact you would even dare to state such a thing proves every suspicion we've had about you." Calgar roared as his Honor Guard formed a wall between the pilgrims and the Primarch. "No Xenos witch shall lay so much as a finger on our father while I draw breath."

At those words, the members of the pilgrimage scattered. Greyfax stood alongside the Ultramarines, her Condemnor Boltgun aimed at Cawl. Marshall Amalrich also stood at their side. As did Kadan, Mercer, Meller, Thuran and Lyron. All had their weapons drawn.

But the Archmagos did not show any sign of backing down. "I am bound by the pact I have made with the Primarch and must see it to completion, no matter the means."

The machinery that composed the body of the Techpriest hummed with power as his many combat systems came to life. The two hulking weapons at his sides rose slightly and glowed with a threatening pale blue light.

Both Yvraine and the Visarch drew swords made of jagged bone. Despite the smooth texture they appeared to, Elaine felt that a stray slash from those could cleanly sever a limb.

Celestine and her Geminae Superia stood by the Archmagos, helping him block their opponents from the Auto-Reliquary. "Please, everyone. You must have faith. While this is abnormal, I can sure you that this is the will of our Most Holy Emperor at work. This has all gone according to His will."

"Quiet!" Cried Greyfax adjusting her aim towards the Saint. "I should have known better than to believe your honeyed words. You almost had me deceived but now I see you for what you are."

"Katarinya you cannot say you do not believe. The fact you are here is a part of His plan. Why must you view every act of faith as some attempt at deception? If you did not, you would see that what I am doing is ordained by a higher power. That even this supposed pact with a heretical god is as He wishes."

The Cadians watched on as each member of their alliance took a side. The Templars were siding with the inquisitor, believing that they had been duped. Or most of them did. Chaplain Lothar marched across the space between the two opposing forces and stood at the Saint's side.

"Chaplain!" Amalrich barked. "What is the meaning of this? You would stand with these traitors?"

"She is right, my Liege." Lothar said with no form of the supplicant with which he would usually address his marshal with. "We have traveled across the galaxy to complete this mission. This most Holy mission. I cannot stand by and allow it to end because of some trifling matter as the aid of Xenos."

"They are impure." Yelled Thuran. "We should have slaughtered them on the ice mountain."

"Brother, how many times must I remind you not to allow your zeal to blind you to the greater mission. The slaughter of the Eldar would have been a meaningless battle. Had we engaged them the Despoiler would have close in on us."

"So, this is what you've chosen, brother?" Meller, Lothar's closest Battle-Brother lowered his axe slightly. "You choose to stand with Xenos and traitors who wish to defile one of the Holy Primarchs?"

"No." Lothar gunned the activation rune on his crozius arcanum, sparks of energy hummed around it as the power field activated. "I choose to have faith."

"While I can't speak much on faith." Said Summer as she walked over to the chaplain's side, her cloak taking on an almost ethereal glow as it fluttered in sync with her steps. "I do know that we need him."

"What you suggest is heresy of the highest order." Calgar argued. "I should have never allowed you within these halls."

"You don't know what's coming!" Summer yelled at the Chapter Master, her voice somehow reaching everyone in the vast chamber clearly. "None of you do! What happened at Cadia was just the start. They are coming for us all and we can't stop them by ourselves! We need Guilliman. He's the only one who can bring the Imperium together quickly enough to form a counter offensive before it's too late."

Elaine watched with growing dread as Nicholas and Finlay took their places at the huntress' side.

"I've worked with Eldar before." Finlay said. "While they are a sneaky, lyin bunch, I understand em. They do everything for their own people. Same as us. They do what is best for their kind. Sometimes that means doing us a solid to keep the enemy of their backs. I say let em help since we'll be fighting either way."

"You are naïve." Said one of the Honor Guard. "The Eldar deceive and lie for their own gain. Using humanity as their pawns. I should slay you right now for siding with them."

"Come and try it." Finlay raised his rifle to aim at the Space Marine. "The Ghosts have gunned down plenty of yer lot during our campaigns. I'm feelin lucky today, do you feel the same big guy?"

Elaine heard the tread of footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw her squad walking over to Summer's side. Acting on impulse, she pulled out her bolt pistol and aimed for Guardsman Katar's back.

"What are you doing?" Elaine inquired with a glow tone.

Tarn turned to regard her, the expression he had on his face made her grit her teeth. He looked ashamed. Depressed. "Ma'am."

"What are you doing? All of you."

"Summer's right." Tarn said. "Cadia is gone, and the traitors have free reign over the Imperium. This is our fault."

Tarn's depressed features turned into a glare of unerring determination. "It's our mess and that means it's up to us to fix it."

"You won't be fixing anything with a bolt round through your skull." Elaine warned but Tarn didn't budge.

"Go ahead. I deserve it. Better to die for failing the Emperor than to live with this shame."

Elaine felt her finger on the trigger, but she couldn't pull it. Not this time. He was right, Cadia was their world and they had lost it. Her aim shook slightly as her principles grappled with one another. Duty to her home, duty to Creed, duty to the Imperium. This situation placed all of them on a knife edge.

"How do you know they are not deceiving the Archmagos? If they are then we are all damned."

Alexa Thade stood by her fellow Cadian. The same grim determination on her brow. "We are damned either way. Life is the Emperor's currency and I choose to spend mine making amends for Cadia's fall."

"What'll you spend it on, Commissar?" Tarn asked before turning to walk away with Alexa by his side.

Elaine lowered her rifle and watched them go. Were they right? Was this their only shot at redemption? Surely not. Right? They could join a counter offensive fleet, beat the traitors back with steel and fury. Bleeding themselves dry for failing to keep the heretics in that hell where they belong. But if it was true, if they could indeed play a part in the revival of a Primarch then they could gladly say that Cadia would be avenged.

Elaine turned to the form of the Holy Primarch once again. Even in this state she could feel the immensity of his presence. If anyone could stop Abaddon it was Guilliman. Placing a hand on the hilt of her power saber, she recalled the final exam of her commissar training. Her hands around the grip of the bolt pistol and her sight focused on the girl who stood opposite her. Her last words rang in Elaine's skull.

'We promised that one of us would make commissar. I'm glad it was you, sister.'

Elaine gritted her teeth and made her choice.

---

Summer smiled as she watched Elaine take a place at her side. The commissar said nothing, but her face told the huntress all that needed to be said. She was committed now. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Greyfax looking even more agitated.

Osiris stood at the center of space that divided the opposing parties.

"Custodian." Called the low voice of the silver Astartes. "Surely you see the madness in this. They wish to use Xenos sorcery on one of the Primarchs."

Osiris turned his helmet to the silver Astartes. "I was under the impression that the Grey Knights did not fear the alien. For they were feeble compared to the corruption that the daemon can bring. Do you not use Xenos technology in combating them?"

"This is not Xenos technology." The grey Knight retorted. "This is sorcery. The stuff of the Immaterium. Corruption is always a promise when dealing with it."

"For the Eldar, their sorcery and technology are one and the same. Everything they wield and utilize is forged from the Warp, yet they stave off its corruption. I see no reason not to attempt this procedure."

to his retort Greyfax spoke up once again. "Not unless I stop you. By my authority as an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus, I order you to stand down, all of you, or face execution."

No one responded to Greyfax's threat and Osiris simply watched her. "I am not obligated under any authority to obey you, Inquisitor. My order answers only to one master and he currently resides on Terra. Do not delude yourself into believing your title as an inquisitor gives you the right to supersede the dictates of the Emperor of Mankind, Beloved by All. As for the Primarch. If there is a chance that he can be returned to the Imperium, I am more than willing to take it rather than allow him to sit here waiting for the end to come."

With that Osiris took his place at Cawl's side, his Guardian Spear held in both hands, ready for any sudden acts of aggression.

Summer noted that all the members of their group had chosen a side. So, what would happen now? More debating or would Summer have to clash with more Astartes? It didn't matter. They needed Guilliman. If Summer ever wanted to get home, she would need the Imperium intact and working.

Placing her right hand inside her cloak, she brushed her fingers against the grip of her Ivory. Ready to pull it out at a moment's notice.

A Space Marine crossed the gap between the group and stood by Cawl. It was an Ultramarine, Tigurius.

The Chief Librarian spoke with a calm voice that cut through the clamor. "My Lord, I ask that you trust my council one last time. I have seen hints of this too in my visions."

"Why have you not spoken of this then?" Calgar asked in a demanding voice.

"I was not aware of the of what they meant at the time. I saw soullight dancing through the Materium, shielding the forms to whom they belonged. I saw the fusion of a white swarm blades, forming a spear of light. I saw my brothers lying dead and broken among a black armored Astartes. And I saw him, our father, rise from his throne. I did not think it possible, but now, I too have faith. Marneus, if you ever trusted in my words, then trust them now."

Calgar stared at the Librarian, clearly upset that such vital. Summer saw the Chapter Master turn away for a moment, she knew that expression, someone was contacting him.

She felt her fingers twitch when she saw the shocked look on his face.

"Everyone, take cover!" He bellowed as the armor glass of the dome above exploded inward. A large blue shape crashed downward into the chamber, flames billowing off its body as it bulldozed several statues. Sliding across the now cracked floor, the Astartes Thunderhawk ploughed through a marble column and brining it down in an avalanche of precious stone, coming to a stop after crashing into the far wall, crushing a statue of Guilliman battling a statue that Summer somehow knew was a depiction of Alpharius.

The Thunderhawk, missing a wing, tilted to one side and hit the floor with a resounding clang. Then the rear boarding ramp burst open, unveiling the sinister cargo within.

Out from the shadows of the tipped gunship passenger bay stepped the hunched forms of Astartes in black and gold armor. They walked on all fours and the gold on their armor was bent and jagged, creating an almost lightning shaped pattern. On each of their backs was a jump pack, all snarling loudly as their engines revved up.

No one spoke as the Chaos Space Marines screamed through their vox grills.

The Ultramarines reacted with uniformed, almost mechanical efficiency. Their bolters barking out a hail of high explosive shells at the traitors. But they were not quick enough. A trio of the fiends jetted through the volley and converged on one another. Together they stabbed spiked icons into the temples floor.

Each was a tall spear of adamantium, festooned with foul icons of misery and suffering, each anointed in daemonic gore. Summer felt a primal sense of disgust just looking at them.

As the trio of Raptors fell back along with their surviving brethren, Summer felt the hair on her neck stand on end. She felt it, the presence of that hell was passing through into reality through the icons.

"Teleport strike incoming.!" Roared the Grey Knight as he leveled his wrist mounted storm bolter at the icons.

With a bright flash of multicolored light and a sound akin to the crash of thunder, reality broke apart. When it faded, there was a slight smog covering the remaining Raptors. Ultramarines did not cease their fire, not when the mighty tread of armored boots filled the chamber.

Out from the fog marched dozens of hulking Chaos Terminators. All expert killer clad in near impervious armor had just been dumped right on top of them.

"BURN LOYALISTS!" The lead traitor cried out as he spearheaded the advance.

The Ultramarines adjusted their aim, dedicating all their focus on humbling the mighty strike force sent against them while the Terminators with ranged weapons returned the greeting with a salvo of their own.

Everyone began to scatter under the pressure of the armored behemoths' march. Seeing that remaining in the open against a force like this was death for her companions, Summer grabbed Nicholas and pulled him towards the safest place she could spot.

"Come on!" The huntress yelled to her mortal companions.

Finlay and the Cadians complied, their years of discipline urging to follow the orders of an ally who reacted to the situation most effectively. Military hierarchy only mattered when there was a chance to assess the situation without dying.

Taking cover behind a column that had collapsed to the fallen Thunderhawk, they all took stock of the situation while they remained mostly unnoticed by the main combatants.

The Astartes, pilgrims and traitors quickly meshed together into a massive gunfight. The Ultramarines and Templars all took to cover around still standing marble columns and statues.

"Holy Feth! This got bad quick." Finlay stated taking aim, using the pillar to support his rifle.

"I count at least thirty of the big ones." Summer said as a stray bolt flew overhead.

"Thirty Terminators! Wonderful!" Tarn groaned. "And we have lasguns and a handful of grenades. How are we supposed to fight those things?"

"Stop whining! Are you Cadian or are you some PFD wearing our colors!" Elaine snapped, drawing her pistol and saber.

Summer smiled slightly, finally hearing Elaine get her fire back. Who knew all it took was a sudden attack by overwhelming odds. Glancing to her side, she saw that Nicholas was controlling his breath and felt like cursing. He was in no condition to fight.

Looking back out into the brawl, she saw Calgar lead a counter charge against the Chaos Terminators. He ran right up to them and landed a devastating left hook to one of the tusked murderers' helmets. She had to keep reminding herself that Astartes were always faster than they first appeared to be, even the ones I heavy armor.

Following him into the fray was Celestine and her Geminae Superia. The Ardent Blade was drawn and alight with holy fire. The trio sang hymns of praise to the Emperor as they cut into the wall of ceramite looking to crush them.

Marshal Amalrich too joined, as well as the majority of Squad Roth. The only one to stay behind was Lyron. Summer was aware of the importance of the Apothecaries, as one of the last in the crusade he was vital to the rebuilding of their force and not to mention he was not armed to take on such heavily armored opponents. Thus, he took cover near the shrine. His red bolter joining the chorus made by the Ultramarines.

The Grey Knight marched forward with an immense sense of power about him. Summer could see a shining halo of Warp light around him. It took the momentum out of the bolt rounds that sought to harm him. Then came a white flash, and the boom of thunder returned.

When the smoke of this cleared, several more silver armored Astartes appeared around him. Though some were smaller than their leader, they made up for it with enhanced speed. Armed with halberds and longswords that glowed with the psychic might of their wilders, the Grey Knights charged the Black Legionnaires, firing their wrist mounted storm bolters as they closed the distance.

"So." Nicholas spoke up, looking at Summer. "Do we have a plan, huntress?"

Summer scanned the room with a critical eye. The skirmish was spreading fast, and they would need to relocate soon. While they could take on one or maybe two of the behemoths if they fought as a unit, but they would need to pin them down first.

Celestine was cutting through the madmen, jumping through the air as she killed. One of her bodyguards was badly hurt with a large gash across her breastplate.

Calgar and the Grey Knight leader fought side by side. Hammer and fist crushing all who came at them while they weathered all reprisal from their hulking enemies. The Grey Knight stretched out his hand and a burst of lightning crashed into one of the Terminators, throwing him into a nearby statue.

Amalrich fought with the poise of an expert duelist, skillfully dodging blows that would have split him in half. His blade plunged into the torso of one of the traitors while Meller's axe found the brute's head. Kadan and Thuran also tag teamed. The younger of the two utilized a long power sword since he lost his scimitars to the Chaos Raptor that ambushed him on the ice planet. Summer was told he had only recently tried using the dual wielding technique. Having first tried it on the planet of Armageddon, he found it extremely effective against a group of aliens called Orks, who valued strength and power over speed and precision. Summer could see the difference. Kadan was outpacing his elder counterpart and almost matching the Marshall in terms of finesse.

But through the carnage, Summer's enhanced sight caught Cawl and the Eldar standing at the Primarch's throne. The Auto-Reliquary at his side. The Archmagos did not participate in the battle. His back was turned, and any stray shells bounced off some kind of static field that encompassed his body. The Eldar just stood there. Cutting down any Black Legionary who tried to approach, while somehow managing to casually dodge the bullets coming their way with only the slightest of movements.

Summer's eyes widened as she realized what was going on. Cawl was trying to bring Guilliman back while the Ultramarines were distracted with the Chaos Space Marines.

As she meant to voice her discovery to her allies a descending Raptor landed on the pillar they were hiding behind. The impact broke the fallen masonry into two pieces.

The frenzied lunatic wielded a hooked chainsword and revved it up while raising it high to strike the at the prey he had found.

The humans all fired at the transhuman. Their las beams cut across his armor. Summer reached back for Ivory, but the Chaos Raptor was sent flying by a small storm of lightning.

Standing in the traitor's place was Tigurius, with Osiris and Lothar at his side. The Custodian quickly guided them to a small alcove of debris.

"Are you all unharmed?" Osiris asked while the two Astartes fired into the melee behind him.

"Fens has a dislocated arm and a limp, but he'll be good to go in a minute." Tarn answered as he looked over a Cadian with blood coming out of his mouth. "And Menlo's gonna need a medicae, he's got internal bleeding."

Summer responded to this by reaching out with her aura to examine them. Closing her eyes, she saw that Fens' arm was dislodged and Menlo had a punctured lung. Using her will as a guiding force for her aura, she took hold of the rib and began to pull. Menlo grunted in pain at first, but then fell silent as Summer dulled his senses, giving him a moment of peace in the chaos. Slowly, she managed to realign the rib and restore it. Performing in mere moments should take months of healing to accomplish. Then she turned her focus to the lungs. It was a tricky process, restoring it took more effort than she anticipated. Allowing a host of new knowledge to guide her, she managed to remove the blood and patched yup the puncture wound. Making sure to allow the organ to regain normal pressure to avoid lung collapse the moment she released Menlo from her hold.

Opening her eyes, she saw the man breathing easy as the rest of stared at her.

Blinking owlishly, Summer asked. "What?"

"You never stop surprising me." Elaine said, almost sounding thankful. "And I have no idea if I'm going insane, but I hope you manage to keep it up."

"Very impressive." Tigurius said as he traded placed with Osiris as several Cadians took turns to fire out into the carnage at the golden giant's side.

"While your proficiency with biomancy is quite a feat, I suspect the enemy has reinforcements on route. Soon we'll be quite outnumbered." Osiris said in between shots.

"Do we have a plan of action, Librarian?" Lothar asked, almost biting off that last word.

"I am not sure." Tigurius said still looking at the huntress. "Do we?"

Summer stared at him before she remembered what she saw in the battle outside. "Cawl!" She blurted out.

"What about him?" Elaine asked as she fired into the crowd.

"He's trying to revive Guilliman. We need to help him."

"If he succeeds in reviving the Holy Primarch then the wrath of the Emperor shall descend upon our foes." Lothar said after firing a shot of plasma. "But should he fall…"

"Then all will be lost." Tigurius finished. "It is decided, we must reach the Archmagos and provide support."

"How?" Asked Alexa. "They're on the other side of the chamber. We've got a small army of walking tanks between us and them, not to mention your chapter buddies don't want us near the shrine."

"We must force our way through." Osiris said with grim certainty. "If the enemy numbers continue to grow it will only be a matter of time before they reach Cawl and the Primarch."

"But how?" Elaine asked. "We aren't Astartes."

"I can help with that." Said Nicholas, who was still controlling his breathing.

"Do you have a plan, Nicholas?" Asked Osiris.

"Not really, just an idea to give us the momentum to break through."

Nicholas closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Over a dozen white snowflake glyphs appeared on the cracked floor. A small menagerie of white Grimm emerged from the glyphs. A trio of Boartusks, a quartet of Ursai and Beringels.

Finlay glanced at Nicholas. "Remind me not to make you made, Fancy."

"This could work." Osiris surmised. "The beasts shall create a gap in the chaos and allow you to follow through."

"That's the idea…" Nicholas was cut off by another thunderous boom.

The teleport beacon bloomed with power once again. This time spewing forth a trio of Terminators armed with Force Staffs, along with a host of hulking brutes that were an unholy union of Astartes, armor and weaponry. Obliterators. After them came the most feral of the lot. Their armor was more red than black, and they all carried roaring chainaxes, hungry to dig into flesh.

The Ultramarines stood their ground, but the enemy were becoming too numerous to effectively dispatch.

"Time is running short. I shall attempt to reach my Marshal. I must convince by Brothers to aid us." Lothar said as he sprinted off into the melee.

"I shall aid in Cawl's defense until you join me." Tigurius vanished in a loud pop of thunder. Teleporting away to buy for the mortals and Custodian to reach the throne.

Meanwhile, Summer placed a hand on Nicholas' shoulder as he concentrated. "I'll be fine. I just need to focus."

"I'll look after em." Finlay hoisted his rifle. "Won't do fer him to drop here. I'll get em to Cawl and keep the motherfethers back while he works his voodoo."

Summer gave him a stare. When her eyes turned a fierce shade of gold a cold sweat creased his brow. "You better keep him safe. If he dies here, I'll make you suffer."

Summer blinked when she realized how much venom she had put into her words. She hadn't done that since she was thirteen. With another sigh, she walked right up to the man and placed her open palms on his bearded cheeks. A second later, his body began to emit a green glow.

Stepping back the huntress spoke again, her voice calm but stern. "That should help you out. Now you have no excuses. Keep him alive."

With a nervous nod, Finlay forgetting her almost ritualistic act and saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

With that Finlay hoisted Nicholas onto his back. Nicholas ignored it, dedicating all his focus to his summons and not overtaxing his lungs.

Summer shook her head, disregarding the moment of anger she had. Now was the time to act. Now was the time to fight. Finally.

"Mount up!" She ordered with a confidence she'd not had since Raven had abandoned Team STRQ. "We have to get to Cawl!"

With strict discipline. Each Cadian mounted one of the waiting Ursai in sets of two. Finlay got onto one with Elaine. Nicholas secured by his friend and the commissar. Osiris took the Ursa at the head of the column. His spear set forward for the coming charge.

When all was set, Summer grabbed the handle of her new Ivory. Pulling it free of her cloak, she pressed the trigger and let its compressed form expand in her grip. Its entire body reorganized, metal gears shifting and reconnecting to form a durability that was belied by its almost artistic appearance. The blade slotted itself beneath the barrel and the trigger set itself on the lower quarter of the long pole grip that the body now formed. Summer only realized now, how closely her design was to Osiris' Guardian Spear, but that did not matter.

Ivory Dorn was hers and hers alone. And at long last, she would be able to properly vent her frustrations out on people who more than deserved to die. Charging her aura through the spear, the blade lit up with a pure white light.

Holding it behind her, she took a runner's stance and charged forward. As she passed by the Grimm copies, they began to run forward to build up momentum behind her.

Summer continued to pick up speed, until she had the entire column of Grimm summons following her. Then she activated her semblance. Not Petal Surge, that monicker was never its real name. No. She was the spear tip. She would cut through them all. Like her family did in the past. It had been said throughout the ages that there has never been an armor that could stand up to the Crimson Cloud. Summer was more than happy to test that myth today. Just this once.

With a leap, her body scattered into a mass of white petals. All of which maintained the speed and momentum she had built up and continued to climb. Focusing her will, she sharpened each petal into an unstoppable blade. Like a swarm, she gathered herself into a swirling spiral aimed directly at the mass of murderers. Her spiral grew narrower and narrower until she became a shining spear of light that plunged straight into the mass of black and gold.

"For the Emperor!" Bellowed Osiris as he fired into the crowd, scoring headshot after headshot as his beast trampled the least armored traitors. Not killing them outright but leaving them vulnerable for the other loyalists to finish off.

"Cadia Stands!"

---

Greyfax fought within the melee. Her Power Sword, Tyrantslayer, cut through any heretic that dared to get in her path. It was an arduous task as her foes were all Astartes, facing down just one took all her concentration.

Of course, there was the option of just using her Condemnor, but she had limited ammunition and there were many more heretics to kill.

Letting out a roar, she thrust the tip of Tyrantslayer through the breastplate of one of the new arrivals. One of the maddened, frenzied ones wielding chainaxes. As he fell to the steps before the throne, Greyfax's psyocculum chimed a warning as the foes died. Following the brass needle, she spied a trio of Black Legion Sorcerers, all their staves were raised. Black fire gathered around the icons adorning each one.

Raising her Condemnor, she fired a blessed silver stake at the nearest of the witches. Only to curse as while the stake did indeed pierce the ceramite, it failed to inflict a mortal or even debilitating wound. As much as she hated to admit it, she almost missed the accuracy that was granted to her by the daemon maiden. If not the enhancement to her stamina or speed, then at the very least her accuracy. Pinning Astartes with actual bolt rounds was already difficult, but the silver stake she carried was a last-ditch effort.

Kneeling down to reload, she saw the Grandmaster of the Grey Knights, Voldus, march forward to block their path. He met their powers with his own. Fire and lightning danced wetween the quartet of powerful psykers. Greyfax never considered herself a lightweight, but she knew when she was outclassed. Her psychic gifts were a knife, these warriors were hammers.

One of the Obliterators miniguns fired a spread of bolt shells in her direction. On instinct, the inquisitor dove for cover, landing behind a fallen statue.

This gave her a brief moment of reprieve to reload and take stock of the situation. Then she noticed something troubling. Not everyone was participating in the battle. Having a clear view of the throne, she saw Cawl, hunched over at the Primarch's side, that accursed machine before him with what she assumed to be an activation panel presented to the Archmagos. With a spiderlike posture, the Archmagos dedicated his considerable mind to the control panel before him. His multiple arms guiding his metal fingers across runic keys, each moving with such speed and precision, he may as well have been using thrice as many digits as each hand actually possessed. His mechadendrites snaking from one port of the Auto-Reliquary to another, while the Eldar and what little skitarii he was able to bring with him stood guard.

The last of the group guarding Cawl was the Chief Librarian. As Greyfax watched, a trio of frothing Berserkers charged at Tigurius. The Librarian barked a string of esoteric syllables, and Greyfax watched at the three Khornate warriors imploded, leaving nothing but a mess of gore and ruined armor.

The psyocculum burbled confused readings as if it were trying to translate a new language to its user. Looking closer, she saw the life essences of the three slain traitors left their bodies but did not vanish altogether. Ghost returns flickered around the Ynnari as Greyfax's suspicions deepened. Somehow, through means that she did not comprehend, the Eldar were becoming empowered by the deaths of those around them, through the stolen animus of the fallen.

Pushing herself to her feet, Greyfax intended to sprint the distance and command Cawl to cease in the name of the Holy Ordos. Only to be stopped by a heavy spray of bolter fire smashing into her cover, throwing her off her feet.

A shadow fell over her as she refocused her vison. The hulking form of a Terminator loomed over her. This one had singled her out and his intentions were clear. Raising her Condemnor, she pulled the trigger to full auto, sending a concentrated burst of holy shells at the traitor.

While she wrought a score of damage across his armor, he did little more than flinch as he advanced on her. Rolling to her feet, she raised Tyrantslayer high and brought it down on him.

The blade of the weapon dug deep into the heretic's right arm which he raised to block the strike from reaching his helm. Little too late did she realize that she had fallen into his trap. Yanking his arm away before she could free the blade from the ceramite of his gauntlet, he managed to tear the Power Sword from her grip, nearly tossing her to the side as tried and failed to maintain her hold.

Greyfax's world exploded into agony as three of the bladed fingers from the armored giant's Lightning Claws stabbed through her torse. Staring down at her impalement, she gripped onto one of them and tried to pull herself free, but the traitor laughed as he threw her off his claws, casting her to the ground.

Again, he marched on her, but she was powerless to stop him. Her body was losing strength by the second. Lowering his Lightning Claw, she saw that he had one of the rare designs that allowed one to mount twin linked bolters on top of them.

Gritting her teeth, now dripping with blood along with her lower body, Greyfax forced herself to sit up. If it was her fate to die here, then she would face it with dignity. The traitor's bolter barrels were squared down to her face, and she braced herself for the end.

Then a shining white light appeared in the corner of her eye. It was so bright that she almost missed the frantic readings from her psyocculum warning her of extreme danger. Thinking this was another psychic attack and lacking the talent to form a barrier of her own to defend against it, she simply closed her eyes to accept her fate.

A horrible grinding sound blared out right in front of her and a second later a strong gust of wind washed over her face. Three seconds later, something heavy crashed next to her legs. She could feel the marble floor shatter under its weight.

Through the pain pulsing through her failing body, Greyfax wondered why she was not dead yet. Opening her eye, she saw the sundered body of the Terminator that planned on ending her.

The near impervious armor was a ruin. Something had drilled a Power Fist sized hole through the side of the protective shell that protected the fiend's tusked helmet. As for the helm itself, it was in pieces, completely shredded as its remains dotted the floor around its fallen body.

Now she understood why the psyocculum warned her of the attack. Fully believing that she would not have fared aby better than her foe.

As the din of battle still rang in her ears, something entered her vision, a white flower petal. Lazily falling on her leg.

A manic laugh brought her attention upward as another raging Berserker charged at her. Looking to her Condemnor, she found it to be out of her reach. She didn't even have the time to flip herself over before the madman was on her.

The first thing he did was bring down his armored boot on her chest. Forcing her to puke up blood when she was pressed against the floor so hard that she felt her own armor buckle.

The Berserker laughed as he revved his waiting chainaxe. Greyfax tried to push him off, but her strength had left her, and she lacked the focus to use her psychic powers to throw him off balance.

The axe was raised, and the inquisitor fought hard to summon her powers, but something caught the heretic's attention. Raising his helm, he bore witness to a shining spear spiraling straight towards him.

Pressing his foot down on Greyfax harder, he jumped to the side, almost breaking the inquisitor's spine in the process. The spiral shot by him mid leap, severing his left arm.

The spiral spread outward, forming a swarm of white petals that swirled above the floor. The petals coalesced, forming a familiar shape. As they pressed together, they transformed into fabric and flesh. Standing at the foot of the steps was Summer Rose wielding some form of combi spear weapon of unknown pattern. It reminded her of the Guardian Spears that the Custodian and the Deathwatch utilized, only rather than a bolter this almost looked to have a modified Exitus Rifle built into the shaft of the spear. How did she get a hold of the designs for that?

The huntress twirled the spear and lunged at the Khornate Berserker. Her speed reminded Greyfax of the time Summer battled Abaddon, it was hard to imagine that someone like this was considered truly human before her apparent apotheosis.

The Khornate swung his axe wildly in an attempt to repel the woman, but she redirected it with the lower end of the spear, bringing the bladed end around to slash at fiend's breastplate as she pushed his weapon away.

As the Space Marine stumbled back with a burning slash mark on his chest, Summer aimed her blade at him and charged. The Berserker met her charge with one of his own. When they were less than two meters apart, Summer lowered the angle of her spear and pulled the trigger.

A gaping hole appeared on the blood caked ceramite around the Marine's left thigh, forcing him to stumble as Summer leapt above him and brought both her legs down on his helmet. This took advantage of his temporary loss of balance and forced him to the ground, as she had no chance of doing that with her own body weight.

Pointing the tip of her blade down, she charged it with psychic might, bringing its glow to a pure white before plunging it into the Berserkers head.

Greyfax watched this scene with indifference. Only gaining a small bit of satisfaction that she now knew what that strange object that Summer was ogling in orbit was. It was some form of customized Force Weapon.

Wonderful, as if she was not dangerous enough.

The huntress caught sight of the inquisitor and rushed over to offer aid. Kneeling down at Greyfax's side, Summer examined the injury. Likely coming to the conclusion that she would die soon.

The daemon maiden lowered her weapon tot eh floor and stretched out both hands to Greyfax, who weakly tried to swat them away.

"Don't touch me!" She spat.

"Don't be stubborn now. This isn't the time." Summer said in a dismissive manner that reminded Greyfax of her old instructors whenever she had an objection that they found to be irrelevant.

"I know what you intend to do. You shall not taint me as you did the Cadians."

"Why do you always assume I'm against you?" Summer sighed and placed her hands on Greyfax's cheeks. The inquisitor braced her mental defenses as she felt the woman's psyche brush against her own. "All I want is to help people. Let me help you, Greyfax."

"There is always a catch. A price to pay."

"Well, if hearing you complain is the price of saving your life then that sounds like a bargain to me." The woman smiled; it was all too similar to that of Celestine. Warm and kind. Greyfax had never believed in those smiles. All too often such things were just masks used to deceive the weak willed and deluded. The only time in her life where she felt that it was genuine kindness was when her mother cared for her. But as the huntress' mental presence surrounded that of Greyfax, she almost felt like this was an act of genuine care for another being.

As the psychic might of the woman probed at Greyfax she felt no sense of invasion or suppression. Not the altering of one's will as she suspected when she examined the Cadet-Commissar. Rather than subjugation, she felt an awakening within herself.

Her presence in the realm of the Warp solidified and she felt herself being shielded from its tainted tides. She knew she could still traverse it with the proper rituals but while her mind was in the physical, she was protected from the influence of the daemon. When the teleport homer activated, she heard so many cackling voices, now they felt quieter, as if she had built a true barrier to separate herself from them. Before she felt like a flame in a breeze, she had to burn bright and hot to continue to exist, but now she no longer felt the breeze. Like she had somehow constructed a trasnparesteel housing around her soul.

Then Greyfax felt a rejuvenating power surge through her body, her injuries were healing. Summer did not directly use her abilities to heal the inquisitor, she was supplementing Greyfax's power with her own. Aiding in this somewhat automatic healing process. Within seconds, she felt the pain fade away. Raising a hand to inspect her wound, she blinked when she saw a sky-blue glow surrounding her armor. She felt it, a psychic barrier. But how could this be? She wasn't conjuring it. Her abilities lay in the telepathic and scrying arts. At best she could fry the mind of another. This was something she had never been trained to do and taught that she lacked the capacity to do.

Glancing at the woman who sat at her side, Katarinya spoke. "What have you done to me? What is this?"

Was this the aura Nicolas spoke of?

"I'll explain it in full later." Summer stood and walked over to the inquisitor's Condemnor.

Offering it to Greyfax, she said. "For now, we need to protect Cawl. He's about to wake Guilliman up."

Feeling refreshed now that she was free of the pain that had wracked her body, she rushed to her feet and took the Boltgun. "I have to stop him."

Summer frowned, ignoring the bolt shell that flew past her head. "We don't have time for that. Don't you get it? They're here for us. Here to stop us from reviving him."

"A coincidence brought on by a target too tempting for the traitors to pass up." Greyfax argued, even though all the evidence was stacked in the huntress' favor. The frenzied chase from Cadia. The mad attempt to hunt them down in the ice. Now an invasion of Macragge long before they even arrive. Abaddon must have known.

Summer just let out a sigh and brought her spear about to face the crowd. "Look, can we clear these guys out first. If we can manage that before Cawl finishes, then I'll even help you shoot him. Deal?"

Greyfax made to answer, but then she noticed the teleport flare once again, disgorging more Chaos Space Marines into the melee.

"Enemy reinforcements!" One of the Ultramarines yelled as he and his squamates moved to a better position closer to the throne.

Summer and Greyfax just stared at the new arrivals. The reality of the situation dawning on the inquisitor. They were outnumbered and the divide was growing worse by the moment. Glancing at the Archmagos, she tightened her grip on her bolter as she decided to go against every ideal, she stood for. Sometimes one must sacrifice the purity of oneself for victory. As the radicals liked to say.

"You have a deal." Greyfax said, knowing she was merely agreeing to an impossible situation.

The hilt oh her fallen sword was presented to her by the huntress, she must have picked it up while Greyfax wasn't looking. Taking the hilt, Greyfax held it at the ready, feeling new strength flood her body. Her armor was damaged but that hardly mattered now. It was fight or die.

The two charged into the crowd. Hacking and slashing at anything that wreaked of the foul stench of Chaos.

---

Lothar's crozius caved in the skull of another traitor as he continued to bully his way thought he crowd. It was glorious. This was a true battle. This was what made legends. He would commemorate this moment to the annals of his chapter should they survive. If not, then they shall be forgotten as is fitting for their failure.

All around him was chaos. Giants clad in blue and black clashed in the center, each hoping to gain the momentum by eliminating the opposing Terminators. Calgar himself led this effort and while he was mighty, he was one and his warriors were sorely outnumbered.

More foul witches joined the fray through the portal the Obliterators were guarding. The hulking monsters were shielding the homing beacons with their massive frames, absorbing what little fire managed to reach them. This was bad. They needed to shut down that portal before they were overwhelmed. But he had to remember his duty. They had to protect the Archmagos.

He tried his vox bead again. "My Liege." He said into it, hoping his Marsha could hear him.

The enemy might have been blocking them or Marius was too busy to properly answer. With the sheer volume of enemies in such a confined space it made sense for him to dedicate himself to the fight.

With a wide swing, the golden eagle's wing on his maul exploded across one of the Black Legionaries chests, sending him flying.

"Courage and honor!" He heard Calgar roar. "For Ultramar! For Macragge!"

"Courage and honor!" The rest of the Ultramarines chanted.

"NO PITY! NO REMORES! NO FEAR!"

Lothar took note of his Brother's chant and changed direction. Firing his plasma pistol into the eye lenses of a Raptor that attempted an ambush as he passed a statue, he growled in disgust that such a thing was once an Astartes. A quick death was too good for them.

Then he found them among the heaviest of the ruins. Amalrich was clashing with two Berserkers. His relic blade was slick with traitor blood. Kadan and Meller were fighting a pair of Terminators while Mercer raised the banner aloft as he defended the prone body of Thuran from a Raptor.

Thuran looked lost but the readout from Lothar's helm told him that his Brother still lived. He lay against a slab of masonry. The Raptor's twin Lightning Claws had torn his breastplate asunder.

Lyron was likely on his way now. Lothar picked his target and attacked.

---

Osiris fired at every vulnerable target he could find. Each shot caved a helm. They were nearing the throne. All the while the white ape creatures were acting as their dozer blades, knocking down everything in their path.

When they reached the steps, the apes charged into the melee, no concern was given to their personal safety as they ran headlong into the storm of bullets.

With a leap, Osiris landed boots first on the back of a mindless Astartes that reminded him of the fallen World Eaters Legion. He remembered what the legion was like in the early days of the Crusade. It stirred the echo of an uncomfortable emotion when he saw just how far they had fallen.

Without hesitation he brought the tip of his spear down and ended the fool. The Cadians and their mounts rushed past him to take up positions at the top of the stairs. Nicholas was still being carried by his companion, Finlay.

The Commissar immediately barked out orders to form a defensive perimeter around both Cawl and Nicholas as they placed the two together. The Archmagos did not even notice, so there was no objection. Or perhaps he was listening, as some of the skitarii were in the process of dragging pieces of the fallen pillars to act as makeshift cover.

Either way, he was not joining them. He had a different objective in mind. The Chief Librarian and the Eldar should be enough support for the humans while he leaves to find Summer. Her plan was to eliminate the enemies elites and cut off their stream of reinforcements. He concurred that it was the most logical solution to their situation.

Into the melee he went, taking advantage of the new level of discourse Nicholas' white beasts brought. One of the apes was in the process of grappling with a Traitor Terminator. While they were formidable, the beast did not have the raw power to defeat a Terminator.

With a mighty punch, the traitor vanquished the beast, but was now completely exposed. Osiris wasted no time in impaling the traitor's skull. Then he felt a presence behind him. Pulling the trigger, he freed his spear by blasting the head of the Terminator to pieces and using the recoil to force the bud of his weapon into the eye lens of the legionary that had attempted to ambush him. Grabbing his spear with both hands, brought it about him in a wide arc, decapitating the traitor in one clean motion.

From his new angle, he caught sight of the throne once again. Cawl stepped back in a satisfied fashion, his Auto-Reliquary unfolding like a flower, ready to engulf the slumbering Primarch. He caught a glimpse of what was inside, his transhuman mind identifying everting with the slightest indication. Arcane energies, unfurling mechadendrites, clamping pincer limbs and wiring bone drills. Such were the tools needed to remove the armor Guilliman now wore. While Osiris held no liking for the Primarchs, he did not hate them. They were flawed creations, as the Captain-General had told his Tribune, they were wildcards, completely unpredictable, even to their master. That only proved the worthiness of those who made the sound decision to stand with humanity's true master. At least, it did to Osiris. The rest of his kin were far more bitter after their failure.

The Auto-Reliquary raised and stretched out, seeking to encompass the Primarch's form. Meanwhile, Yvraine moved with preternatural speed, evading bolt shells as she cut the cables that provided power to the stasis field.

Calgar's outraged roar could be heard as the Chapter Master raised his weapons to stop her. But he never fired a shot. A rattling sigh echoed from the lips of Guilliman as the field died. The Primarch had just uttered his death rattle, his final breath as the machinery fully enclosed around him.

"What have you done!?" Calgar bellowed as he turned his anger upon the traitors who allowed Cawl to bypass the impasse the Chapter Master was imposing.

Osiris paid him no heed and continued to navigate his way through the carnage. He already knew where Summer would go. Weaving his Guardian Spear in a protective sequence around him to intercept those who would try to add him to their vain trophy racks. He would deflect their first strike, then counter. Each time it could either cripple or kill. It did not truly matter which. Unlike with the Despoiler, he doubted the traitors had a teleportarium primed for a sudden escape this time.

The glow of a flaming sword rose above the dust and smoke of the battle. Then a flash of white. As he suspected, Summer had made her way to Celestine. Not surprising, the huntress appeared content to follow the Saint and learn from her.

As he drew closer, he split his focus to study the way Summer fought with her customized weapon. It was quite interesting to see one use a weapon so similar to his own and wield it in such a different fashion. She vaulted around her enemies with the same acrobatics she had displayed before, only now she augmented it with a series of sequences specifically tailored to her weapon. She had once told him that she was used to fighting opponents what were larger than herself, and looking at her now, he could see the truth in her words.

She fought with the fluidity of a flowing stream. Every action transitioned seamlessly into the next. If it was evasive, then it became aggressive, then the aggressive will either continue or she would fall back to evasive. There were some defensive stances and, they were effective at stopping the blows she was in no position to avoid. But they were meant to stall not hold off an assault indefinitely. However, she did appear to have recognized this flaw some time ago as she transitioned from defensive to offensive, a similar stance to Osiris' own style.

As he drew nearer, he saw that the inquisitor was with them as well. Her torso had been punctured but while there were blood stains, the bleeding had stopped. But Greyfax still looked battered and bruised.

Summer, for all her skill, was also taking damage, it was not as obvious as her allies. Whatever injuries her psychic barrier could not stop, were healed. Still, the process was wearing her down.

Celestine's bodyguards were dead. Both were mangled by Lightning Claws. As for the Saint herself, she was the worst off from the three. Her right arm was limp and broken. Her lip was cut, and blood was spilling out of her mouth.

This did not surprise Osiris, after the Primarch was placed in the machine, the Black Legion redoubled their efforts. Pushing ever harder towards the throne. The Custodian pushed that from his mind. It did not matter how desperate the enemy became. The path to victory was clear. Cut off their reinforcements and kill those who remained. Summer caught sight of him after she slashed apart the armor of another legionary. He quickened his pace as he noted a change in the battle. It was reaching its zenith.

---

Elaine fired into the advancing horde of Chaos Space Marines, ducking behind the pillar that had served as their cover. While they successfully made it to the throne of the Primarch, holding it became one of the most arduous tasks of her life. They were a dam of twigs trying to hold back rapids. On Cadia they had the advantage of proper defenses and heavy artillery to counter the natural combat superiority of the Astartes. The heretic had to work just to reach them. Here, all they had to do was sprint a few feet.

All of her squad had turned their lasguns to full charge, while it didn't even the odds against ceramite, it did help, and she doubted any of them would live long enough to use up their all their las packs.

The Tanithborn Finlay barked out another target as one of the Black Legionaries charged through the fight. This one had forgone his bolter and drew his serrated combat knife. Finlay fired first, scoring a hit across the marine's visor. The rest followed his example.

Soon enough, the traitor fell forward after his faceplate was burned open by a stream of superheated particles. His body, sliding down the steps as armor bounced off their edges.

The steady thumbing of a heavy bolter rang out by her side. Tern and Elaine worked together to steady the massive weapon that they ad managed to salvage from one of the fallen Ultramarines. Said Ultramarine lay dead just behind them. The ammo belt that extended from his power pack fed ammunition into the bolter. While fallen, the Space Marine's armaments continued to serve the Imperium.

Tarn aimed and fired the weapon at anyone who approached them. It was a clever strategy. If anyone got past them, the rest would focus their fire on them. Alexa did her best to keep the gun steady and mounted it on the small crevice on the fallen column.

"I'm really glad Summer gave us this aura thing." Alexa jittered as she held on to the body of weapon that threatened to toss her aside like a raging grox. "I can feel my skeleton rattling."

"The strength boost sure helped, Astartes weigh a ton." Tarn's arms shook violently as he held down on the rigger.

Elaine spared a moment to consider their words after they had shot down another of the red raging lunatics. They had become stronger, not enough to take on a Space Marine, but stronger. It helped her a lot during the skirmish in the ice.

Above the mess of noises, a steady thrum of engines cut her thoughts short. Holding her fire for a moment, she saw dozens of black armored forms launching into the air.

"Raptor assault!" She cried as she aimed upward into the flock.

The Chaos Raptors rose high in an arch, descending as they reached the apex of their flight. A multitude of snowflake glyphs materialized in the air, from them came large white avians. These creatures flew counter to the Raptors, spearing into them midflight. A pair catching one of the Raptors by the arms and dragging him down into the brawl below.

Still, the Raptors came on. Cawl's skitarii marched ahead of the Cadians at their master's command. The Raptors tried to land on top of the mortals in their past, but a new glyphs formed to block their path. As they touched it, they were repelled, launched back to the foot of the steps. That had become their beachhead. If they managed to reach the top, the Cadians were finished.

Cawl sent his skitarii forward to buy as much time as their lives could provide. Their arc rifles and carbine repeaters gunning down the heretics as they charged to their deaths.

Tigurius hurled miniature storms at the traitors, frying them within their own armors. He and the Eldar covered the other end of the platform. Yvraine and the Visarch cut and bisected every traitor that came their way with elegant grace and perfect precision. It was like they were dancing, and the traitors were simply volunteering to be a part of their show.

Cawl had taken to joining the battle himself, augmenting the Cadians barricade with his own set of heavy weapons. His Arch Scourge scorched traitors alive within their own armor, it's wide arc of lightning becoming essential to their immediate survival.

The Raptors did not relent, even with the heavy resistance before them. Soon they reached the skitarii and dismantled the machine men.

"Protect the Primarch!" Cried one of the red helmed Ultramarines.

At his word, many of their number abandoned cover and charged for the platform. They placed themselves between the Cadians and the foe. Selling their lives to buy precious moments.

Following this act of bravery was a hail of bolter fire from the enemy Terminators, who had formed up into a final charge after finally breaking through Calgar's defenses. Their shells flew straight towards the Auto-Reliquary, only to have their momentum and inertia stolen by a glimmering void shield.

"Ha!" Cawl's hailer enhanced voice laughed at the heretics. "Did you think I did not consider that? And even if you did hit it, I built this to survive an orbital drop!"

The Archamgos' taunts served to anger the traitors further as some refocused their fire into him, only to be stopped by Cawl's own personal forcefield.

Elaine was pushed back as a shot detonated before her, hurling her backward. But much to her amassment, she unharmed. Looking at the destroyed pillar, Elaine saw the purple glow covering her body. A blessing in disguise that woman is, for giving them this without asking for anything in return.

Rolling to her feet, the Cadet-Commissar peered over and saw the Terminators close the distance. Cawl's heavy weapons had down several of them, but there were more than enough to bulldoze their flimsy defenses.

"TO PURGE IS TO BE PURE!" Cried a collection of voices.

The Black Templars charged into the fray with a zealous cry. The Terminators failing to react in time to match the sheer ferocity of the sudden assault. Even under the heaviest of fire, the voice of the chaplain rang out above the noise of battle, exhorting those around him to ever greater acts of heroism.

While not of the same chapter, the Ultramarines took in the litanies of Lothar Roth and removed their discipled restraint and gave themselves fully to the battle. Firing their weaponry at full burst at point blank into the Raptors. Some took to knife fighting and even taking the heretics own weaponry.

The fire of bolt shells was amplified by barrage from long distance, supplemented by plasma bursts. Elaine could see them, the Obliterators in the distance.

Then came the most dangerous enemy, one of the heretic witches in Terminator plate stopped at the foot of the stairs. Arms raised above his head, the Chaos Sorcerer began to chant an incantation if incomprehensible syllables. As the almost painful words left his vox-grill, the entire chamber began to shake. Pillars split from bottom to top, chunks of marble the size of drop pods sheering down to crash into the fight. Gaping rends yawned wide in the floor, swallowing warriors from both sides and the frescoed ceiling became webbed with cracks.

Elaine felt her hope die as she looked up. Through the glass of the domes ceiling, she saw drop pods, ten clawed drop pods. As they descended towards the Temple of Correction, Heldrakes swarmed around them, taking shots that were meant for the pods.

All ten pods broke through the temple roof. Crashing all around, their clawed bracers digging into the ruined stonework. As one, the Dreadclaws opened, and began to disgorge squad after squad of heretical killers who charged headlong into the fog of war.

This was bad, Elaine had run the numbers of heretical strike forces before the Fall. This last input of reinforcements equated to an entire warband of Chaos Space Marines. It was a force whose combined strength could subdue worlds. One hundred super human murderers fresh and ready for battle, and they stuck at the defenders like a battering ram.

Ultramarines fell as they were riddled with holes from the massed fire if the new arrivals. Valiant Terminators sacrificing themselves to allow their brethren to get to cover, even their mighty armor buckled under the sheer weight of the volleys of bolt, plasma and melta fire that engulfed them.

Elaine watched as Calgar roared in defiance. He was forced to the ground by a surging mass of foes. Marshal Amalrich and his brothers his behind a mound of the corpses of their enemies. The layers of tainted ceramite and flesh acting as the most effective barrier in the chamber.

The shrine continued to shake as the Sorcerer continued his spell. Elaine knew that they only had scant moments left to live. A white flash darted across the room and zoomed for the Sorcerer with an intention to impale him. Somehow, the traitor sensed her coming and conjured a barrier, halting his spell. The spear of light crashed into the wall of psychic energies and was held in place as it began to drill through with an almost eager sense of violence.

In a flash of multicolored light, the barrier exploded, forcing the spear to scatter into a mass of white petals. Reforming on the steps, Summer Rose faced down the Sorcerer. The huntress charged with her brand of blistering speed. The witch sent up a wave of fire that engulfed her body.

Dropping her weapon, Summer began to scream as the flames ate away at her while the floor melted into slag under its unnatural heat.

Elaine felt her heart quicken at the sight of this. Without thinking, she abandoned her cover, ignoring the cries from both her squad and Cawl. Sprinting down the steps, she narrowly avoided having her chest cavity expanded to the point of exploding by a bolt shell. Pulling her Power Saber back, she plunged it into the traitor's chest, the shock of the action forcing him to take a step back. This pulled the blade from her grip, leaving her with a bolt pistol, which she fired repeatedly at the horrid snarling helmet.

When she pulled the trigger and the gun clicked empty, she stared won at the monster before her. The fiend raised a hand, black flames manifested in his palm. But another hail of bullets pelted the mad wizard. Tarn and Alexa concentrated their weapon in the Sorcerer, the bolts forcing him to change priorities. Elaine had to stop him, but she had no weapons now.

Something flew past Elaine's head, blowing her commissar's cap off. Summer's spear crashed into the traitor's skull, making him fall backwards as he died.

Looking back, Elaine saw Summer standing tall, her body riddled with scorch marks which were slowly fading as her skin regained its natural pale tone. Elaine made sure to note that aura does offer resistance against psychic attacks as well, much to her relief.

Tossing her bolt pistol aside, she ran for the fallen witch. Grabbing the hilt of her sword, she pulled hard, gunning the activation rune in hopes to loosen it.

Summer leapt atop the fallen fiend and wrenched her spear free as Elaine did the same with her saber. Before Elaine could do anything, Summer grabbed her, and the world became a jumbled mess. She had no idea what was happening, somehow, she knew where she was in the chaos and where Summer was.

Then before she could blink, she was back on the platform behind the cover her squad was stationed. Summer still held on to her shoulder and forced the cadet to take a knee. The very stone beneath them rattled under the force of the barrage leveled against them. Each bolt chipping away at the stonework.

Summer slapped Elaine's commissar cap on the cadet's brown head, making the woman smile as her strange weapon changed shape again. This time, it took the form of an elegant long rifle with a blade slotted beneath the barrel.

"Guess this is it." Summer said, as shrapnel cut across her face, making her flinch but otherwise she was undamaged.

Elaine took in those words with care. For the first time in years, the cadet felt there was someone who genuinely looked out for her. If this was to be Elaine's second and final farewell, she would not keep silent this time.

"It was an honor to have you join this regiment, Huntress Summer." Elaine said out loud.

"You're an honorary Cadian." Alexa said after the heavy bolter dropped, finally exhausting its ammunition.

"Cadian blood! Ice in the veins!" Chanted Tarn Katar as he fired back at the horde of traitors.

"Cadian Blood!" Cheered the rest as they returned fire.

Elaine was not sure if she was hearings thing, but she swore she heard the huntress mutter the words, 'Cadia Stands,' before she fired her rifle at the Black Legion.

A single chime sounded behind the Cadians, a clear pure not that drew their attention away from the war before them. The multitude of red lights on the Auto-Reliquary had changed from red to green.

"Success!" Cheered Cawl as he hacked down a traitor with his Omnissian Axe.

The next moment, the outstretched armature of the reliquary folded back with a gaseous hiss, to reveal a sight that took Elaine's breath away.

Where Roboute Guilliman sat, a stasis locked revenant, now the Primarch stood, awake, and very much alive.

Elaine was stunned into awestruck silence by his presence. It was dominant as a thunderhead suddenly filling the shrine with its crushing pressure. The Holy Primarch was clad in a magnificent suit of armor. An ornate masterwork that could have only been made on the holy forges of Mars. Carried from that sacred place to the Realm of Ultramar.

In one hand, the Primarch held that beautiful sword, now alight from hilt to tip with golden flames. In the other he held a massive Power Fist with the sacred Imperial Aquilla inlayed in gold across it and in his eyes was a look of such murderous intensity that Elaine had genuinely felt herself shaking in fear.

Elaine was stunned into silence, as was every being withing the shrine. It was as though a spell had been cast over them all. Within the echoing chamber, friend and foe alike stared at the legendary figure, reborn in their midst.

Had the cadet not been so awestruck, she might have noticed the sad expression on the huntress' visage, along with the tear that ran down her cheek.

---

Guilliman stared into the waiting crowd. The second he opened his eyes he bore witness to the ruined remains of the Temple of Correction. The corpses of the fallen all around him. Both of his in the colors of his Ultramarines and of some new warband of traitors that he did not recognize. They were certainly not of the Emperor's Children.

Speaking of that disgrace to the Imperium's legacy, his calculating mind quickly assessed the situation. His hyper evolved brain processing information at such speeds that had his thoughts keep to that of the average human time would appear to halt.

The last thing he remembered before appearing here was being carried by his Ultramarines through the halls of the Macragge's Honor. This being after his escape from the Pride of the Emperor, Fulgrim's flagship.

The thought of his traitorous brother set his face into a thunderous frown. Memories of seeing his corrupted brother bubbled to the surface of his awakening consciousness. His foul lurid form slithering about Guilliman in what used to be a grand display of the finest art, reduced to carnal madness by his new patron.

At the end of their confrontation, Guilliman remembered the slash that caught him on the throat and how he had to be evacuated back to his own ship. The voice of First Captain Andros was still fresh in his mind. How he had roared in defiance as he sacrificed himself to save Guilliman from Fulgrim.

The anguished expressions of his sons returned to him; they had crowded his fallen body at the end of the memory.

The thought of his grieving sons brought his attention to the fallen bodies ensconced in blue ceramite. How their broken forms dotted the temple.

His Ultramarines. His sons.

'Theoretical.' Guilliman thought. 'I was brought back to Macragge and treated. My warriors defended me in the process. Practical. I am alive, but my sons are dead.'

He then took note of the traitors and their unfamiliar colors. Black and gold.

'Theoretical. An unfamiliar warband followed my sons as they fled from Fulgrim, or they are pawns of my brother sent to finish me off. Practical. These traitors will die.'

---

Summer stared at the giant form of Guilliman. He stood tall, like one of the fallen statues brought to life. She felt her heart ache with pain, and she had no idea why. It was a sorrowful pain. A pain brought on by a sense of failure and regret. It was one she had just experienced a few weeks ago after her death. But why was she feeling such pain when she was staring at someone she had never seen before?

The silence was broken by the shriek of a Khorne Berserker who rushed past the stunned defenders. He leapt at the Primarch, intending to spill the potent blood that flowed within his superhuman veins.

The huntress watched in amassment as the Primarch brought up the sword if the Emperor in a blazing upward arc. Bisecting the attacker clean in two at the waist, leaving his divided body to fall to the floor in a mess of armor, blood and spilling organs.

With that the effect Guilliman had on the crowd was broken and the Black Legion howled in hatred as they surged towards him.

He then charged forward; his speed so great that Summer genuinely doubted she would be able to match his pace. Passing by Summer and the rest of the warriors who were willing to give their lives for him, Guilliman became the new focal point of the carnage to come.

Within the span of two seconds, Guilliman felled four of the red armored lunatics with perfectly placed strikes from the sword and shots from the bolter mounter underneath his Power Fist.

He was running full tilt now. Storming thought the hail of bolts that had forced the rest of them to take to cover. Rounds exploded against his armor, but none could break through it.

As he crashed into the ranks of the Black Legionaries, he let out a bellowing roar of a demigod venting all his anger into the fight. With a punch, he sent a legionary into the air, blood streaming behind the corpse as it fell.

Another punch sent a Terminator into a bronze and marble column with enough force to drive the chaos worshipper clean through it and out the other side.

On it went, he was so quick he left afterimages as he cut apart the enemy. None of them even got close to him.

Summer watched this display of martial prowess with rapt fascination. Never had she seen a warrior of such skill before in her life. It made her feel like a little girl again, laughing with excitement as she watched her mother impress her with her acquired skills as a huntress.

As the Black Legion hurled themselves at the Primarch in the hopes that they could drown him with their numbers, everyone else found themselves free to mount a true counter offensive.

Yvraine, the Visarch, Tigurius and Cawl charged down the steps to join Guilliman in battle. Yvraine was quick, blurring through the air and downing a Chaos Space Marine before cartwheeling between two more. They began to decay, crumbing to dust and ash. Yikes. Summer made a note not to get on that woman's bad side.

Tigurius released a thundering shockwave that pushed back Astartes from their feet and shattered their armor like porcelain.

Seeing her opportunity, Summer took the other magazine from her belt and swapped her current ammunition for this new one. Then she reverted Ivory back to her spear form and vaulted over the marble barrier, ignoring the protests of her Cadian allies.

"Protect Nicholas!" She yelled back as she strode into the fray.

Another mass of white glyphs appeared on the ground around her, summoning a pack of Beringels that charged alongside her. One offered her an open palm and she understood the intention of the Schnee patriarch.

Hopping onto the waiting palm, she braced herself as the simulacrum of what she hated most hurled her into the air. She used the momentum to cross the chamber and bypass the brawl at its center. Aiming Ivory down, she fired a shot that rammed into a Chaos Space Marine's armor. Not killing him, but that wasn't the intention. As she had designed her first Ivory Dorn to be used as an augmentation to her maneuverability, thus she had asked Cawl to provided her with a specific type of ammunition. She needed something that would propel her with force. Thus, the cyborg had made a new ammunition type just for her. He called them Air Shock rounds.

While they could still be used as normal bullets, their true purpose was to be utilized at a means of extra maneuverability. Meant to be fired while in the midst of melee or when she had to dart from one spot to another when there was not benefitted to using her semblance to do so.

Over and over, she fired, extending her flight by precious seconds. When she began her descent, she found the trio she was looking for, however it was more like a quintet now.

Celestine, Greyfax and Osiris, and the Geminae Superia were locked in a struggle with three Obliterators. The lumbering brutes were performing their role in protecting the teleport beacon. It had to be destroyed quickly. Should the enemy learn of the revival of Guilliman then the enemy might get desperate. It was Something Summer fully believed, recalling how they hurled a moon sized fortress into the surface of Cadia.

Landing on her feet she rushed to aid them. Reaching a full sprint, she focused on the Obliterator that was focused on the Sisters. Its wrist mounted bolters constantly firing in the hopes of pinning the women as they used their jump pack to leap around it.

Taking advantage of its split focus, she jumped onto its back and slashed at the power cables that ran over both its shoulder blades. As they sparked, the beast spasmed as it struggled to turn and retaliate.

Both Geminae Superia took this opportunity to throw themselves at the monster, grappling to the armor plating that covered the deformed bossy around its head and plunging their Power Swords into its face.

Jumping off, both women looked to the huntress.

"Praise be!" They both said before advancing towards the teleport beacon.

Summer gave no reply, she had nothing to say to religious acknowledgement. Osiris fought one of the Obliterators alone, while Celestine and Greyfax fought together. Summer took notice of the face that Celestine looked better, almost good as new. Her arm was fixed somehow, and she was glowing with divine light. In fact, it might not have just been her, Summer also felt refreshed.

Running at full speed, Summer cut a large chunk of flesh through one of the Obliterator's legs, forcing it to stumble. Swinging its arm around, it aimed a twin linked melta at her, only for Osiris to hack at the meaty joint of the arm. The disruption field of his Guardian Spear cleaving the metal beneath.

Summer circled around the Obliterator and slid under the second arm. The field from her Ivory's blade mimicking the damage that inflicted by the Custodian.

As the towering behemoth tried to stomp on her as she passed by, Osiris delivered the coup de grace with a downward strike. Planting the face of the blade firmly between the traitor's eye lenses.

The Obliterator dropped at the same time as the one Celestine and Greyfax battled. The four combatants taking a moment to recover their bearings.

Summer felt the buzz in the air die as the teleport beacon was cut down by Sisters.

Glancing back to the battle, Summer watched in amassment as Guilliman raised the final Sorcerer in Terminator armor in the air. Summer was told how much those things weigh and to lift it one handed with no leverage was a frightening display of pure strength. Even when Tia lost his cool, which was extremely rare, he couldn't do something like that. Sure, his punches could bend steel and shatter concrete with ease but that didn't make him strong enough to lift an Alpha Beringel with one arm.

Guilliman pulled back that flaming sword and drive it into the gut of the Sorcerer, before tearing it out and dropping the carcass like a discarded bag of filth.

The traitors broke after that, all turned and ran for the temple doors, realizing that they had no hope of stopping the reborn Primarch now.

"They flee!" Cheered Celestine. "They flee before the wrath of Guilliman!"

"No traitor survives!" Greyfax barked, running towards them, her sword raised high.

Celestine obliged, spreading her wings wide to take flight. "Come Summer. We must exact retribution for the fallen. Those who fell at Cadia did not die in vain. Thanks to our actions, they are now holy martyrs. Let us honor their sacrifice together."

The angel soared high, her bodyguards following her. Osiris ran into the throng of fleeing Astartes like a lion among fleeing sheep, cutting them down with the practiced perfection Summer dreamed of achieving herself. If she survived for another century maybe she would come close.

She did not join them right away. While she understood their reasons, a part of her disliked attacking a fleeing enemy. But then she reminded herself that these were absolute madmen.

She felt a slight shiver go up her spine. Turning quickly, she saw the Primarch watching her with a decerning eye.

---

Once reinforcements arrived at the Temple of Correction, they found that it had already been cleared out. The bodies of over a hundred traitor Astartes covered the floor.

Standing amidst the ruins stood Roboute Guilliman. The gathered Ultramarines kneeled before their newly risen Primarch. Demanding nothing, asking nothing and offering only their lives in service to their gene-father.

Guilliman took charge immediately. He asked no questions other than what pertained to the battle raging outside.

News of the Primarchs rise spread like wildfire through the Fortress of Hera. It was proclaimed from every vox speaker, shouted from every rampart, and broadcast through the vocal emitters of cyber-cherubim that fluttered through the cauldron of war.

Guilliman ensured that it was so. Broadcasting his own voice along with the proclamation. Declaring his return to his sons and the promised decimation of the enemy. He decried their attack on his home of Macragge and promised his enemies swift and brutal defeat.

The words of their long-lost father emboldened the embattled Astartes. First, they knew bewilderment, then newfound strength as they processed this incredible news. The Chaos worshippers by comparison attempted to denounce this as false but found themselves faltering. Even the greatest of their champions were eclipsed by the marshal glory of a living breathing Primarch. The sense of unease spread through the heretic throng like a plague at the thought of facing him.

Guilliman made his way from the temple and into the strategium alongside a battered and bruised Calgar who was being held aloft by the combined efforts of Marshal Amalrich as a sign of respect and Tigurius as an apology for his insubordination.

Guilliman made his presence known to First Captain Agemman and formally accepted overall command of the defense of Macragge.

In a display of nobility, Guilliman humbly requested that the Chapter Master grant him permission to assume full command of the Ultramarines in this dire hour. Calgar shrugged of the two shouldering him and knelt before his Gene-sire.

He offered unending fealty to the Primarch and bequeathed full control of the chapter to him, in perpetuity. Like an impresario before his instrument, Guilliman laid his hands on the strategium holoprojector. Taking a deep breath, he took in all the information that was provided and, in an instant, began giving instructions at a blistering pace. It was as if he had months to plan for the enemy and knew what they planned before they even thought of it.

With each utterance of his voice, enemy vessels were shot down, infantry columns were bombed, Astartes were slain.

The Primarch's strategic acumen, his tactical genius and mental acuity were unmatched. The leaders of the Ultramarines and those of the Celestinian Crusade watched in amassment as he marshaled the defenses like regicide pieces. As he drank in the data of the battle, he was simultaneously giving out orders.

The battle's momentum swung in the defenders' favor withing minutes. One fight after another ending in their victory.

Calgar and his council had orchestrated a superhuman campaign of defiance against the invaders, but Guilliman was operating on a different mental plane.

His first priority was to reestablish aerial superiority. After the skies were cleared by a blistering volley of overlapping firepower, the ground troops stormed forward, retaking the lost parts of their beloved city.

Guilliman wielded hundreds of thousands of warriors at once, predicting every move his enemies made countering before they even though to act.

Eventually, Guilliman took to the battle personally, the work of strategy set, he chose to show himself to both the foe and his people. He led the final attack into the heart of the enemy lines and delivered the death blow like a bolt round between the eyes of a crippled enemy.

Black Legionaries, Iron Warriors, Alpha Legionaries and Emperor's Children were all hurled back from the walls. Traitor Titans became vast flaming trees that were smashed down.

Just three hours after his rise, Guilliman had purged the Chaos invasion from the Fortress of Hera and confidently proclaimed his stronghold secure.

---

Summer stood before the doors of the Chapter Master's sanctum. Gesell was at her side. The little fuzzball steered clear of the fighting and managed to find her before she was called to come here. After the battle had ended, there was a celebration. A every formal celebration. Guilliman took his place in the throne room Summer stook before now. It was a coronation, an actual coronation, like the ones her mother and father had read to her about when she still dreamed of brave knights and noble kings. It was so surreal she thought she was no longer in a nightmarish war against the forces of hell. Representatives of every company in the chapter were present and all swore loyalty to Guilliman. Proclaiming him as the reborn Lord of all Ultramar and the master of the Ultramarines.

Greyfax was so moved by the immensity of the moment that she actually offered Celestine an apology. Proclaiming her a true servant of the Emperor. Admitting that she was wrong in judgments.

Greyfax was not the only one to apologize. The Templars knelt before the Saint and asked for her forgiveness. Saying that they were fools to doubt the words of the chosen hand of the Emperor.

Celestine acted with the grace that Summer had come to expect from her. Saying that they were wrong but that they were still performing their duties as the Emperor intended.

Still the Templars demanded a form of penance for going against the will of the Emperor. Celestine simply asked them to retake an oath they made to her back on Cadia. An oath to protect Summer. Amalrich offered his entire fighting company as his punishment to which Celestine had no objections.

Summer got into an admittedly childish argument with the angel after that. Saying that she did not need the protection. And that an entire force of Space Marines was overkill. The angel countered by stating that it was the Templars' choice and that she could try to tell them off. That was when Summer knew she was stuck with them for the time being. Elaine had said, never piss of a Space Marine, they act calm, but they have tempers so hot it could count as a fusion reactor.

Then came the most awkward part of the ceremony. The part where Celestine religiously proclaimed Guilliman to be the hand of the Emperor reborn. Crowning his armor with a device called an Iron Halo. It was supposedly a forcefield generator linked to the wearers armor, but Celestine spoke of it as some kind of holy symbol. But when you think about it, who's to say it can't be both.

Guilliman didn't look like he agreed. Summer didn't know why, but it was almost like she could see through the stony expression Guilliman wore throughout the entire process. The second Celestine brought up the concept of faith and divinity, something changed in Guilliman. She was not sure what it was, but she knew that he did not approve of Celestine's religion at all.

Summer did not care much for religion, even though she was technically a part of one now, having made a contract with a god and all. But even she didn't dislike religion to the extend Guilliman did.

Even back on Remnant, where the only religion she knew of worshipped gods that straight up abandoned their people. Gods that she actually hated. She never disliked the people that followed them. To her they were just people trying to find their path in life. If they found it through faith, then she respected that. Faith had its benefits to a society.

But Guilliman, for a moment, Summer somehow got the idea that the Primarch was going to arrest Celestine.

Strange. You would think the son of a god would be at least a little receptive of the idea.

Aft the ceremony, Guilliman had the retreated into the hall of the Chapter Master. He wanted answers. How long was he gone? What happened during his absence? What was the state of the Imperium? He spoke to every one of his lieutenants. And everyone from the Celestinian Crusade barring Nicholas who was sent to what amounted to a hospital on this planet, and Finlay who promised to stay with him.

Now it was Summer's turn. For some reason, the Primarch had ordered that she go last.

Why? She had no idea. Did she really stand out that much with her cloak? How could she when compared to someone like Celestine, who literally shone like a billboard. It must have been something else and the very notion that she might have upset him shilled her to the bone. Behind these doors was a being that gave her a feeling of genuine fear. Only the horrid murder daemon sword had ever given her such a feeling.

It was worse than anything Ozpin, the Grimm, or Salem could ever instill in her. And all he did was give an order.

The doors slowly parted as the horrid servitors pushed them apart. Summer paused for a moment before the two Ultramarine Honor Guard at both sides of the door turned their helmets towards her.

She stepped inside quickly after that. The Gyrinx followed her in, tail swishing slowly as she trailed the huntress. The chamber was huge with a fifty meters high ceiling with towering arched windows to the side that overlooked the ramparts of the city. On the wall was a portrait of Guilliman and two others. One was in black armor and the other was in golden armor and had pure white wings flared behind him. All members of the trio were blond. The winged one had his hair flowing over his shoulder. Even as it remained still, she could imagine it being carried by a gentle breeze.

A memory emerged in her mind as she walked past the portrait. They were all Primarchs. Guilliman's brothers. The one in black armor, the Lion. And the other was Sanguinius. Another pang of sorrow hit the huntress' heart at the sight of them.

Then came the next portrait. No memories resurfaced at the sight of this on. She already knew who it was. A display of the Emperor in all his glory stood tall and proud in an oiled painting. While the visage was familiar to her, it felt shallow, even in comparison to the echo of a memory of her vision of him.

A sense of foreboding entered her mind as she felt someone's eyes on her. Looking ahead, she saw him sitting on his throne. Guilliman was waiting for her with a neutral expression on his face. The Sword of the Emperor sitting at his side.

Summer felt the pressure his gaze put on her. Her mind swam and a new image emerged in her thoughts. She saw the Primarch kneeling. He looked smaller, as if she had somehow gotten taller. At her side were a number of Custodians. Osiris was there. Even though in the sea of gold she was able to single him out. Somehow? She felt as though she knew all their names. Each one of the golden warriors, but they stayed beyond her. Just out of reach.

Then the memory ended and for some reason she felt the pressure lessen somewhat.

Standing at the foot of the throne, she craned her neck up to look at the towering form of Guilliman. She wanted to puff her cheeks at the way he looked down on her. Being called short was something she had to deal with constantly. Qrow never let her forget it. If this guy dared to call her short, she would kick him in that perfect jawline.

But she had to remember her manners. Even if he wasn't the son of a god, he still ruled an entire planet. Heck, if she remembered correctly, Ultramar consisted of five hundred planets. That was a boast that no one on Remnant could ever hope of matching.

Bowing slightly, she gave her best curtsy. It was not something she was particularly good at. It had been a very long time since last she had to show something as annoying as etiquette.

"Lord Guilliman." She said in a polite manner.

"If you would do away with the pageantry, I would appreciate it." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. "We are in private and therefore I wish for you to speak with me in a manner that you find most convenient."

"Alright." Summer said, relaxing her posture slightly.

At that, she saw the change in him, he was also more relaxed, but only slightly. A tiny relief that he did not have to urge her to treat him as something grand. She saw this, while his face was still unchanged, and his posture was still.

"I see that the Cadians were correct. You are an odd one. I must order them not to constantly use my full title or any of my honorifics when addressing me. Yet, you accept this request without fear of offending me or believing it to be some sort of test." He explained with a smile.

Summer knew he was trying to make it sound like a joke, he even covered it up with a smile, but she could tell he found the lengthy efforts he went through to have a proper conversation with the others to be frustrating. But she decided to humor him since he did look relieved somewhat.

"I just find it pointless to ask someone to be less formal with you and expect them to treat it like a test of reverence or something." Summer gave a small grin of her own. "I can't speak for my friends, but I'm not convinced you would waste someone's time like that. Talking normally is quicker and like you said, there's no one here to listen in."

Guilliman's posture visibly relaxed this time. "Then we shall proceed. I know of you though the conversations I have had with the rest of your cohort. Excluding the male psyker and his companion who are currently in the Medicae Primus. You are Summer Rose. A huntress as you like to call yourself, hailing from an undiscovered world called Remnant. Am I correct?"

"You are. Is there anything you want to know?"

"I have many questions for you but first I must ask, why is this small Xeno with you?" He turned his gaze to Gesell who stated at him with her sharp eyes.

"This is Gesell. She's been following me since we got to Ultramar. I tried to get her to go away but she's pretty stubborn."

"I see. The Eldar, Yvraine had one at her side as well. Am I to assume that this used to be one of her's?"

"Not really. Her one wanted to be Gesell's partner, but she turned him down." Summer said causally.

"Very well. I shall not press on the matter if it is a simple pet for you. But I must warn you that should this creature prove to be some form of Eldar spying tactic, it will be destroyed, and you shall be severely punished."

Summer didn't feel threatened by the accusatory way he said that. If Gesell was some sort of spy, then she would take care of it herself. Wouldn't be the first time a friend turned out to be different from what she suspected them to be.

"I understand. Is there anything else?"

"Yes. First, I speculate that you want a reason as to why I requested that you were to be the last to see me before I retreat into contemplation." Guilliman implied.

"Yes. I was wondering that."

"When I awoke, I took notice of you. While my surrounding was new to me and those around me were strange, I wondered why I found you to be so strange among all the madness that surrounded me. Thus, I decided to learn of you by questioning your allies while I gathered information on the wider galaxy."

"Did you get an answer?"

Guilliman's face turned stony, putting Summer on guard.

"Before I share my speculations, I shall as my first question?" His tone was lower now, more serious. "Do you believe the Emperor to be a god?"

Summer blinked at the inquiry. Did she believe that the Emperor was a god. What sort of question was that? Especially coming from the guy's own son.

Then she remembered the discomfort he had around Celestine. How his mood soured at the very notion of religion. He must not believe that the Emperor was a god. Did she believe he was a god? Yes. You can't do the things he could without being able to at least contend for the title. But she couldn't lie to him.

Lie or uncomfortable honesty. She chose honesty. It was easier and made less headaches down the line.

"I suppose I do." Summer said with no small amount of uncertainty.

"You suppose?" Guilliman asked with more curiosity than anger. "You are not as certain in your beliefs as your companions?"

"No. I definitely think that he is a god." Summer said, noting the annoyance rising in the Primarch. "But I guess I've had a change in perspective since I was introduced to the wider galaxy."

"In what way? If you see my father as a god, how does a change in perspective affect your faith?"

"I don't have faith." Summer said in a low voice of her own. Again, Guilliman held onto that perfect poker face, but she knew she surprised him with that one.

"You say you have no faith, yet you believe him to be a god. Does that not sound contradictory to you?"

"Do I need faith to acknowledge the existence of something?" Summer countered. "I don't worship the Emperor and I don't plan of starting anytime soon. I just accept that he exists."

"Again. You say you have no faith yet acknowledge the existence of a being whose entire conception revolves around faith."

"Yes. I know he exists and that's that." Summer took a step to the right and then left. "I'm not even sure what being a god means. Does it just mean you are some kind of cosmically powerful being or is there more nuance to it than that?"

"So, if I told you that he was not a god, you would believe me if I provided you with substantial evidence?"

"Sure." Summer stopped her short pace. "But it would have to be something good. I've seen a lot and it won't be easy to change my stance on that."

Guilliman's posture relaxed all the more. While she didn't give him the answer he wanted, she left the door open for him to show her his reasoning. He looked happy to find someone who was not fanatically loyal to whatever religious rhetoric the others had been exposing him to.

"At the very least, you do not adhere to blind faith as the rest do." He said, sounding slightly happier now. "I am pleased to see that logic and reason still hold a place in the galaxy."

"I am a firm follower of the ancient phrase, 'seeing is believing.'" Summer said with a slight bow and decided to be more decreet in her next choice of words. "And I can see that you don't like the concept of gods or religion at all."

"And does that bother you?"

"No. It just confuses me a bit. I mean everyone refers to your dad as a god, but you don't."

Guilliman raised an eyebrow before speaking. "Dad?"

Summer blinked as she realized her more casual language was either inappropriate or uncommon here. "Sorry. It's childish slang for father."

"You need not apologize. I have not heard that word used when referring to my father. Not from any of my brothers. It is somewhat refreshing. Regardless, you are correct in your assessment that I do not view my father as a god. It is as he set down ten millennia ago." There was something off putting when he said that last part. As is the number of years was a weight on his shoulders that he had to lift.

"I take it things were different back then?" Summer shuffled her feet slightly. She was admittedly interested in Imperial history. While her focus was on her return to Remnant, she felt she had to learn as much as she cold about the wider galaxy. If not to prepare her children for it, then at least she would be able to see the wonder in their eyes as she showed off how mommy was the first to go to space.

"I mean, I know ten thousand years is a really long time, and everything could change in less than one tenth of that. To suddenly wake up after so long must be overwhelming, even for someone like you."

The Primarch did not give her a reaction, but she had a feeling that she had hit a sensitive topic for him. Not the fact that he had woken up after a ten-thousand-year nap, but that she knew that it was upsetting for him.

"You are correct. When the din of battle died and the skies were cleared, what I found most bracing was just how much things had changed. On our topic of religion and my distaste for it. During the early years of the Imperium, when me and my brothers walked the stars, we sought to actively stamp out any belief in the supernatural."

"So, you wanted a secular empire?"

"Yes. At first, we believed what our father told us. That there were no gods, and that religion was a path to barbarism and an obstacle to progress. It was only after the fires of Horus' rebellion were lit that we discovered the true reason behind our father's denouncement of religion."

"The daemons." Summer muttered, earning a short hiss from Gesell.

"That is correct. We knew there were psychic entities in the Warp. We acknowledged its strangeness. But we treated them as mindless anomalies, no different from wild animals that would sometimes make their way into realspace. We were blind to what they truly were."

"He lied to you so he could protect you." Summer said with certainty as the ache in her heart returned.

"That would be the logical conclusion." Guilliman said waving his smaller gauntlet around. "I am tempted to believe that he did not trust us."

"Does that make you upset?"

"At one time it did." Guilliman placed his hands on the sides of the throne and stood up. Giving Summer a true scale of just how tall he was.

He walked past her and towards the portrait of the Emperor. Staring at it as he continued speaking. "I wondered for years why he did not tell us anything. Why he forbad us from learning such knowledge. Surely, we could have helped, I thought. Then I realized that I was only thinking of myself and not my brothers. While many proved their loyalty in the face of such evil, many proved lacking."

Guilliman raised his hand to his throat and Summer knew he was thinking about Fulgrim, the brother who basically killed him. "Those I respected and thought indomitable fell to these devils. I watched as one of my brothers turned into one of those abominations. And what made that act all the worse was that the deed was done at the hand of another of my siblings. When I think back to those moments, I understand why my father did what he did. He didn't need us to halt the enemy, he needed to stall for time so he could find a way to cut them off from us."

With a sigh, Guilliman lowered his head. "And we opened the door for them."

Summer walked up to him placed a hand on the giant Power Fist at his side. He looked down at her. "It's not all bad. Humanity is still here."

Guilliman's features hardened into a frown and Summer knew she had said the wrong thing. Walking back to the arched window growled. "Yes. It is still here. By some miracle of fate, cosmic jest, or simple fortune the Imperium still stands. But I will tell you now. A part of me wishes it didn't."

He stared out the window and beheld the ruins of his city. "After all I have been told about the brief overview of the history of the galaxy, I find myself ashamed that this is what became of the Imperium my brothers and sons bled and died for."

As if he could not stand the sight, he stomped over to the throne and took a seat. Summer knew he was venting, she let him. He was greater than anything she could ever hope to be, that included his passions and most importantly temper.

"The more I hear about the galaxy's past after my death, the more I find myself disgusted with it. Where we once decried the existence of religion, it has now wormed its way into the very bones of the Imperium. That nothing has progressed at all since my fall was worrisome enough, but after the brief overview provided to me by the Custodian, I suspect that the state of the Imperium is far worse than I would have dared to imagine."

He turned his attention back to the portrait of the Emperor. A look of pure sadness on his face and Summer knew that this was no mask. No sense of statesmen's guile. This was his true face. Why he was letting Summer see this, she had no idea, but she kept her silence for the sake of the poor man. If she recalled, his entire family were either dead or turned into monsters. If she were in his shoes, she might go mad.

He placed his head in his hand, his new suit of armor hissing with the motion. "Millenia have passed. Thousands of years, and look what has become of them, of us. Idolatry. Ignorance. Suffering and squaller. In the name of a god who never desire the title."

Guilliman shook his head and stood, pacing across the sanctum to stare at the banners lining the western wall of the city through the window. Each was the size of an Imperial Knight. Each was different. All told stories, tales of glory and heroic sacrifice. Slain alien monsters and executed traitors. Worlds saved and worlds mournfully lost.

He turned to the portrait of the Emperor once again. "We failed father."

Summer did not speak, for he was not speaking to her, he just wanted to express his pent-up emotion and frustration of the situation he found himself in. This was something Summer knew well. At times when her team at Beacon became infuriating and impossible to manage, Summer would bottle up all the anger and outrage. Storing away to release at a time and place where no one would know or care.

"You failed your sons and we in our turn, failed you and now to compound our arrogance and vainglory, we have failed all of them too. Did Horus not say that you sought godhood? He built a rebellion upon that claim. Oh, how he would gloat to see the Imperium now."

Summer saw him clench his fist and knew that he wanted to break something. To take his anger out on something, anything. But he held himself back. If he wrecked the chamber, then the Ultramarines would see through the poker face that he dared to drop for her for some reason. She knew he couldn't afford to do that. As a leader, you had to project strength and confidence, if they see Guilliman showing weakness and despair, then it would spread to everyone else. That could not be allowed to happen.

"And yet, would it really matter?" Guilliman mumbled, his words were almost a response to Summer's thoughts.

He paced back to the windows. Summer didn't know what he was looking at, but she knew he was reminiscing. Rage suddenly came to his face once again and he spun on his heels to look at the portrait of Emperor.

"Why do I still live?" He snarled in accusation, making Summer flinch. "What more do you want from me? I gave everything I had to you, to them. Look what they've made of our dream! This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not but reason and hope, but by fear hate and ignorance. Better we had all burned in the fires of Horus' ambition than lived to see this."

Summer knew he did not entirely mean that last part. He was angry. At everything, including himself. Taking a chance, Summer spoke up.

"There's still a chance." She said, drawing his wrathful gaze. It was furious even as it died down with the realization of what he was saying.

She didn't freeze up under that stare, a sense of truth surging from the core of her being gave her the courage to carry on speaking. "Humanity is still here. It's still alive. That means there's still a chance. Even if things can get worse, there is still the possibility for things to get better."

She turned to the window and stared out at the streets below, the Primarch followed her and watched. Worker gangs labored intensely to repair the damage of war and the Ultramarines stood proud atop the ramparts.

"Look at them. They were born into this mad universe. They don't know anything outside of the suffering they've had to endure. Yet they keep going, refusing to give up even when it felt like the entire cosmos is conspiring against them."

She turned to Guilliman, tears swelling in her eyes. "You were made in a better age. One of hope and triumph. You are the best of us, if they can call on the strength to keep going despite not even believing that things could get better, then so can we. You've seen what humanity can achieve when they strive for something they truly believe in. You above all of us know our true potential. Even if we have to fix this galaxy one planet at a time, I'm more than willing to follow you."

Guilliman stared at her in surprise, not having expected such words from a simple human. He then looked away.

"You are right." He said, stepping across the chamber to the picture of the three Primarchs. "All of this pain, all of this misery. All of the suffering and pain. It is not the doing of humanity, but of those who have betrayed us. Too long have the pawns of Chaos dictated our species' fate."

He stared directly at her, a newfound strength behind his eyes. "That must end."

Taking a short breath, he smothered the fires in his eyes and gave her a friendly smile. "I thank you for your kind words, huntress, and I apologize for forcing you to hear such words from he."

"It's alright." Summer said wiping her face. "We all need someone to talk to about these things. If you ever want to just discuss something you don't want anyone to hear, you can always call on me. I'm great at keeping secrets and I doubt Osiris would like that you insulted the Emperor."

Guilliman's smile gained a hint of amusement at the small jest. "It is true, his lot are incapable of handling such things in regard to my father. He is more likely to try and take my head."

"Him and everyone else on this planet." Summer added.

"Yes. Now, as we were discussing before. I had questions for you but seeing as you have just endured a tirade from me, I feel it is only fair you ask one of your own first."

Summer thought on the offer place before her, glancing around the room to try and find something of interest. Her gaze wandered tot rh throne and she spied the sword.

"That sword." She said. "Is that really his sword?"

In response, Guilliman strode across the hall and took hold of the weapon, drawing it from the large scabbard he had fashioned for it. Once the blade was free, it lit up with golden flame, and Summer felt the presence of the same entity that greeted her in the mist.

"It is. This blade was crafted by my father's hand and imbued with a portion of his psychic might."

Summer blinked, processing what she just heard. "So, a piece of his soul is in there?"

"That is correct. My father was a psyker of such potency that creating such things was not beyond his reach."

Summer took a step closer, and the flames of the sword flared in response, surprising both Primarch and huntress.

Guilliman watched the flames dance, observing how they appeared to be drawn towards her. "Strange. I have wielded my father's sword against daemons and psykers alike, but it has never done this before."

"Is that a bad thing?" Summer asked, more scared of what the man would think than the fire.

"That remains to be seen. First, I must address another strange quality you possess."

He knelt down on one knee to bring himself closer to her height, but still Summer came up slightly short due to the armor.

"You are some form of psyker. The Inquisitor has told me of this. Even though her exact words to me were that you are in fact some new form of daemon" He said in a factual manner again, and for a moment Summer wanted to punch the caped woman in her bionic eye. "She had made me aware of your impressive potency, hence why I ordered that you come before me last before I begin my next campaign."

"Oh, okay."

"You give off a psychic presence that can be felt for quite the distance. Even I who is no psyker can detect it to some degree. However, I suspect that baseline humans would not notice. Tigurius and Voldus both confirmed this when I questioned them. They felt your presence when you entered Macragge's orbit."

Summer blinked, taken off guard by the claims laid at her feet. When she recalled the merging of herself and the light, the sheer difference in scale when it came to their souls always stuck out. But she never considered that it was so potent that people who could perceive aura could feel it from that far away.

"And is this bad? Am I hurting anyone?" Summer asked with genuine worry, not for herself but for those she might have been unintentionally influencing. If so, then she would have to go back to being a solo act. Not the worst thing that can happen.

"From what they've told me, no. And we shall address this topic another time. Firstly, I must ask you a question concerning the Inquisitor's claim."

His face hardened again. "Not only her claim, but those of the Black Templars and that woman, Celestine."

Summer felt the hair on her neck stand on end, fearing what those people might have told him given they just discussed his extreme disliking of all things religious.

"The Inquisitor says you are a daemon who has combined itself with a human soul and taken on the identity of the woman you claim to be. While the Templars and Celestine claim that you are a divine herald of the Emperor. While I would normally scoff at that, the stories do align somewhat. But now I want to hear your account."

His voice was lower now, showing that he took this topic very seriously. "What sort of connection do you have to my father?"

Summer sighed, having told this story so many times already it might as well become a formal greeting. "You aren't the only one who's supposed to be dead."

She paused and allowed the Primarch to take in her words. "I was killed by a witch on my home planet. The next thing I knew, I was in an impossible dimension, barely even remembering who I was before being attacked by monsters. Then a shining golden light saved me. It… It…"

Summer clutched a hand to her chest, knowing she was not entirely who she used to be back on Remnant. "It became me. We became me."

"So, the Inquisitor was correct, in a way. Your humanity is not lost on you." Guilliman said in a lighter tone.

"Yes, it's still there. I am still Summer Rose. I'm just not the same as I was before." She confessed.

"I see. Now, as for the claims of your supposed divinity. I can see now that you do not care much for such things, but I am inclined to ask. Have you ever met the Emperor?"

"I did." She said truthfully. "Once in this strange place covered in mist. He took the form of my dead mother before showing me a vison. And a second time while I was on Cadia. This time it was both me and Celestine who had the vision."

"Describe this vision to me."

"We were on a beach that was overtaken by a violent storm that almost left us drowning. Next thing we knew we were hoisted the top of a golden lighthouse. Then we saw him standing in the raging wind. He was holding that."

She pointed to the sword in Guilliman's hand. The flames curled in her direction, almost asking for her to come closer. "He showed us a break in the storm and at the center of it was you."

"You had a vision of my coming? The Saint never mentioned this."

"She couldn't see you past the light, but I could." Summer pointed to her silver eyes.

"And you believed this vision? You are not concerned that it was some form of trick? A deception building into a wider plan?"

Summer shrugged. "Personally, I don't think so. We were already on the backfoot at the time, and it makes no sense for this to be some kind of trick when this whole invasion was sent here to kill you before we could wake you up. They were chasing us like their lives depended on it."

Guilliman watched her with a decerning eye.

Silence followed, and Summer twiddled her fingers, slightly nervous, knowing that she had given a poor justification for her view, but it was better than simply saying, 'I believe it to be true, because faith.'

"Does that answer your questions?"

"Almost." He said, heaving the Emperor's Sword around and presenting it to her. "I wish to test this claim, personally."

"Umm." Summer stammered as the flames extended towards her like dozens of tiny fiery whips.

"If you are truly a daemon as Greyfax claims, then this fire will burn you. But if there is some form of connection to my father, then you shall be unharmed."

Summer stared at the fire. She did not feel fear, rather she felt a pull. A calling from the flames. Stretching out a hand, she placed an open palm on the flat of the blade. The fire did nothing to harm her, the flames encircled her hand and spread up her arm.

It was there, a piece of Him, reaching out to her. But it did nothing else. There was a sense of purpose and duty that overturned all fragments of personal desire that remained within it. This sense of purpose resonated with her, and she felt her aura surge.

Her whole body began to glow a golden light as her eyes turned a fiery gold to match the flames of the Emperor's Sword.

Then she pulled back, the flames being satisfied with the greeting and returned to their passive state, mimicking the characteristics of a natural fire. The glow of her aura faded away and her eyes returned to their natural silver.

"I felt him." Summer said. "I felt him the moment the flames lit, but it was so profound after that. Like I could have a conversation with him through the sword."

"I concur." Guilliman stared into the flames. "Whenever I draw this sword, I felt his presence around me. I often took a form of solace in knowing that he was with me in some sense."

"Have I satisfied your curiosity? Am I free of suspicion?"

Guilliman stood and placed the sword back in its scabbard. "You have my trust. I hope you do not prove me incorrect."

Summer gave him another curtsy and smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that. I can keep secrets, but I've been told I'm a terrible liar."

Guilliman smiled, and she saw that it was genuine for once. In a way, he had found a kindred spirit. A soul thrust into a galaxy that remains unknown to her. It was good to have someone who understood, even a little bit. He still felt the weight of his responsibility pressing down on him, but when he looked at her, he realized that he was not alone. A mighty bulwark cannot be built with just the foundation.

He pushed his doubts and worries to the back of his mind. But kept his rage, that still held a use.

"A most welcome notion. I will need people like you in the war to come." He said as he walked back to the arched windows and looked to the skies.

"What do you plan to do?" Summer asked, standing beside him. Gesell jumped up the Primarch's leg and climbed on top of the golden eagle pauldron on his right shoulder.

He made no sign of stopping her, which Summer took as a relief. The cat was too cute to squish.

"If what I have discovered through our conversation is true, then my father did not die on Terra. He might yet still live in some capacity." He said, sounding almost hopeful. "My course is clear. We must make for Terra. I must go and meet with the Emperor directly."

Summer gave him a sidelong glance. Going to meet a god. If Guilliman himself weren't so impressive already she would dismiss it as crazy. "What good will that do? Can't you call the Imperium together on your own authority?"

Guilliman shook his head. "There are many who would denounce me out of hand and call me a pretender. Especially those who rule on the Council of Terra. If I am to rally the Imperium, I must go there. I need answers."

Summer grabbed one of his oversized fingers, her own regular human sized one's wrapping around it. He took note of the gesture. "If that's what we have to do then count me in. You're not leaving me here while we have a galaxy to fix. Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's not healthy to shoulder everything by yourself?"

Guilliman let out a short laugh. "She did actually. You remind me of her, if only a little."

"Takes one to know one." Summer smiled with a hint of pride.

"You have children?"

"Two beautiful little girls. I'd die a hundred times if it meant keeping them safe."

"Perhaps one day I shall have the honor of meeting them. I am assuming your psyker friend in the Medicae is also in a similar position to you?"

Summer scratched the back of her head. "Yeah, his story is slightly less convoluted than mine. But I want him to get back to his family too."

"I have heard he is quite elderly. Would you like for me to have him undergo rejuvenation treatments?"

"What's that? Some kind of advanced healing technology?"

"No, it is a life extension procedure."

Summer's eyes bulged. Life extension? "Is like some kind of deaging technology?" She asked in disbelief, silently basing herself over the head in her mind at the thought of something so ridiculously absurd.

"Precisely. It can extend his life for several solar decades at a time. It will take time and he still needs to finish his recovery but if my calculations are correct, he should be fully healed and ready to undergo the process before we will begin our departure."

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Summer said a little too quickly. She wanted Nicholas to get back to his family. He deserved it for all the good he's done for Remnant and the risks he took just getting here.

"Then it shall be so. Should you one day return to your families, I pray they live well."

"One can only hope." Summer said, looking out at the sky, her mood turning serious. "So, what's our next move? There's still plenty of them out there and we can't leave while they're here?"

"An accurate assessment." Guilliman turned to the doors of the chamber. Marching towards them with Gesell still on his shoulder, he spoke. "The time for uncertainty and questions is done. It is time to get these traitors off of my world."

Pushing the doors open, he addressed his Victrix Guard. "Summon my lieutenants. I have sat here long enough. We march for Macragge."

---

There we go. I hope you all like this. The longest chapter I've ever done. I wanted Guilliman to have a big entrance and was unwilling to split that up among multiple chapters.

So, yeah, hope you like.

Don't forget to give me names for characters that I can put in. I've already done so many moments with Tarn, I want more.

Already existing characters are already being considered so don't use them. Come up with a name and perhaps a personality description and which faction they are a part of. Don't write a full biography and if you feel a character description is important keep it short.

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