The stasis field that has been up around Roboute Guilliman's throne for over ten thousand years finally drops as the flames of creation, these golden instead of green, disappear. The reborn Unshackled Primarch of the Ultramarines sits with his eyes closed, now clad in sleek blue, gold, and white power armor. His body, though still immense, has been honed down and yet reforge to make him even stronger, faster, and smarter than he was ten thousand years ago. When he opens his eyes, once blue as the morning sky, they are now golden, and the whites are pure black. His first sight is that of thousands of his sons, all now Unshackled, kneeling before him with heads bowed. He reaches up to rub his throat and realizes that he can feel the completely healed area where the traitor Fulgrim cut him through his gauntlets as if they weren't there. He slowly rises to his feet, half expecting his body to protest, but it responds to the impulse so fluidly that he bolts up as if startled.
"You are going to have to get used to your new body," says Genesis with a slight laugh as he steps forward out of thin air, "I made a few tweaks to your nervous and muscular systems. Your mind will adjust quickly, though. I made some changes there as well. Welcome back, Roboute."
At these words, thousands of Ultramarines, Firstborn, and Primarus stand and cheer. The noise shakes the temple and goes on for what seems like forever as the Sons of Guilliman welcome him back to a galaxy torn by war and ruled by tyrants, daemons, and xeno horrors. He already knows all about the last ten thousand years. Genesis had put the information directly into his mind. He infuriates him, but he is also overjoyed to see so many of his sons. The urge to bow to his grandfather, whom he recognizes as his Emperor as well as his true creator, is overwhelming, but he knows that Genesis doesn't demand that of him. He told him so. He sees him as a student as well as an advisor and general of his Unshackled. They are not equals. Genesis is so far beyond mortal understanding that he has no equals, but Guilliman stands at his side, not his back. Something he could never claim with his father. He pounds his fist to his chest in salute to the much smaller but infinitely more powerful man.
"Grandfather," says Guilliman, infusing the title with just as much if not more respect as he would if he had said Emperor, "I stand ready to serve."
Genesis smiles, "Then let's wipe these vermin from your world, my boy."
Guilliman holds out his hands, summoning his legendary power sword, the Gladius Incandor, in one hand and his legendary combi-bolter, the Arbitrator, in the other. Both weapons have been improved like him and are now infused with UC energy. His helm takes form over his head. He stands now, ready for war. His sons rise, summon their weapons, and dawn their helms. The Ultramarines stand ready to follow their Primarch into battle for the first time. The momentous moment is captured by the dozens of stone-sized floating orbs moving around the temple. They are controlled by Sio, who has thousands of them deployed, recording the Defense of Macragge in orbit and planetside.
Genesis dawns his wargear and steps from reality, taking his grandson and legion with him to the next battle. The Black Legion, their daemon companions, and their followers on and above Macragge are smashed in hours. Not one escapes the final judgment of the First and his Unshackled. The event sends ripples throughout the galaxy as long-believed prophecies and fates are shattered and altered. A new fear washes through the Warp itself as gods and their followers are put on notice.
Humanity is no long prey and playthings. The First is here to stay. Shit just got very real.