A/N: First chapter on the concurrent upload schedule. Shorter than what y'all are used to, but expect updates every monday! For early access to next week's chapter, find me on the place of Patrons under Shadowghost35!
There is a moment where the temptation to doubt is there. To believe that I was simply arrogant to believe that my hubris would be enough to raise a primarch.
Whispers in my ears, a cacophony of mockery all at once.
"You failed"
"You had not the faith"
"You're a fraud."
"A liar"
"A cheat"
"You cannot create life, gunsmith"
"Only Death"
"Death and Destruction"
"Steel and Fire."
"Decay and Rot."
B-thmp
Their taunts fall silent as I keep my gaze locked on the Primarch.
B-Thmp.
It reminds me of a war drum. I can hear it even behind his chest plate and the armor that is his bones.
B-Thmp
I watch as the flesh of Roboute Guilliman's throat knits itself together.
I step back, and watch as there's a pulsing white light underneath the Primarch's skin. The wound was healed…now the pestilence is cleansed.
B-Thmp-B-Thmp
It's a split second, then it happens.
BthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmpBthmp
The Primarch's eyes snap open, and immediately, he moves.
Some things, it seems, are fated.
Christ will be put on the cross…The Emperor will be betrayed by his favorite son…
Roboute Guilliman, upon waking, will hit a Traitor Marine so hard his meat comes flying out the back of his armor.
In this case, it was a Favored Son, and not a Black Legionnaire, but the imagery was the same. The battle crawled to halt as all attention was drawn to the risen Primarch.
"DEATH TO THE AVENGING S-" BANG!
My reflexes are getting better, because my drawing and firing of Buddy into the face of the cultist leaping from the rafters somehow was faster than the rest of the assembled force.
He hit the ground and the explosive vest he had strapped to him went off in a bloody 'pop'.
"My Sons…My Ultramarines." Roboute Guilliman speaks for the first time in Millenia, standing tall and clenching his fists, glaring death upon the forces of Chaos in the temple.
"DRIVE THESE TRAITORS FROM OUR HOME!"
The fight was back on, only this time I wasn't simply marching through it.
No. Now I was a participant.
"The lord asked 'what is your name?' And they replied 'Legion, For we are many.'" I muttered, switching my pistol to my left hand and drawing my sword with the other.
"A large herd of pigs was feeding on a hillside nearby, and Legion begged Jesus 'Let us go into them." My pistol spoke as we moved and fought. I set off a few rounds at the cultists who were trying to rush in, I could hear the sounds of bolter fire and hymnals being sung outside, the Sisters, I could even hear the Cardinal chanting retribution.
Unfortunately for me, it was not just mortal Cultists.
The Favored Sons, a Death Guard Warband who broke away from Mortarion, eager to earn Nurgle's Favor away from their gene-father, one Traitor decided to get in close, and I felt Silver fill my blood with stimulants and my armor prime itself around my body. A flick of my thumb, and Omnium visibly crackles with energy, speaking.
"Jesus gave them permission, Legion came out of the man and went into the herd of two thousand. The herd rushed down the steep bank, and all drowned."
"I am no mere spirit, Boy!" The Marine cackled, revving his chainsword and bringing it down to rip across my torso, attempting to cleave me in half, no doubt.
Silver gave me the speed to sidestep his lunge, Christ gave me the strength and grit to swing my sword, and Omnium shouted in triumph as his Molecular Disruption field split the heretic's armor, black carapace, diseased flesh, and finally bone.
I needed to work on my technique, I was aiming for a clean decapitation, instead, the cut scalloped. I cleaved his head and left shoulder from the rest of his body, which clattered to the ground in a resounding crash.
"You're no Asterion Moloc." I spoke, and returned to the battle.
Nurglings and Plaguebearers, I can see Tu'Shan immolating a Plague Toad with his flamer.
The mortal cultists are being cut down by the Ultramar Auxilia, the Favored Sons are being pushed back towards the warp rifts from whence they came, or destroyed outright by the Ultramarines.
Primarch Guilliman is…a storm.
With bare hands he fights, each move perfectly executed and flowing into the next, every punch splattering it's target by sheer force, every kick tearing torsos from limbs, at some point he procures a sword, I know not where from and he becomes a one man kill zone.
Inquisitor Vail is supporting the Auxilia, barking orders and firing off rounds from Sister Penance, who is chanting scripture and retribution with every shot.
Tu'Shan had dealt with the Toad and had turned his flamer to the Heretic Marines, melting ceramite and immolating the diseased flesh beneath until there was naught but ash remaining.
Raya…was magnificent. It was as if she took the Primarch's efficiency as a challenge, her own assault upon the enemy turning whatever sorry attempt at strategy into a desperate bid for survival.
A bid that we would outweigh.
By Bolter, bullet, and blade, we fought.
By fist and feet we pushed the enemy back.
By fury and faith, we banished the Powers back into the warp.
For now.
This war had only just begun.
When the battle was finished, and the ashes had settled, we simply stood there, waiting to see what the Primarch would do.
"You. Preacher." He speaks, turning from Calgar to face the Retinue of Vail, in this case just being me and Raya.
He steps forward, and I remove my helmet to look him face to face.
"Who are you?"
I take a second to think about my response, before I tuck my helmet under my arm, give a good old friendly southern smile, and offer my hand.
"David James Foothill. At your service, Sir."
The Primarch looks at my offered hand as if it's a foreign object for a split second, before his massive hand gives mine a firm shake.
It must've taken considerable control for him to do that and not rip my arm off, so I appreciated the gesture.
"You serve the Carpenter." He speaks plainly.
"That's the way my Dad did it, that's the way I do it, and it's worked out pretty well so far." He releases my hand, and I let it fall to my side as he looks around.
"I'm certain the fact you're wearing one of my brothers' creations doesn't hurt."
"Either way, there's a lot of events that have occurred that you need to be brought up to speed on."
"You can tell me on the ship."
"First and foremost of those things being your Father the Emperor of Mankind is back in his own skin again." I bulled through, and that got the Primarch to pause.e again?"
"I'm just a student in this healing business. My teacher is in the Golden Palace with the Emperor, and I'll tell you right now that he's a lot better at this whole miracle business than I am."
Silence for a moment, before the risen Primarch straightens up and announces to the amassed Ultramarines.
"Ultramarines 1st Company, ready yourselves for warp travel. WE MAKE FOR TERRA!" He roars and marches out of the temple, his sons forming up behind him instantly.
Vail, deciding now would be a good time to haul ass back to our shuttle and our ship, grabbed my arm and followed suit.
"This is the second Primarch I've met due to your lunacy, and both times it's ruined my worldview of them" she muttered as we rushed out of the temple ourselves.
"Sons of the Emperor or not, underneath all of that genetic modification and indoctrination…they're human. With all the flaws and strengths therein." I defended, before I addressed the other elephant in the room.
"Silver."
"Sir."
"Why didn't you tell me you were a Primarch's creation? Which one?"
"You never asked. Sir."
A moments hesitation.
"Silver Carapace version 1.0 crafted by Primarch Vulkan for the betterment of humanity."
"My father's attempt to grant the citizens of the imperium the strength of an Astartes." Chapter Master Tu'Shan spoke, joining our mad dash to the spaceport.
"You knew?!"
"You knew?!"
Vail and I's incredulity synched up quite nicely there, I'll admit. We both whirled on Tu'Shan, who I could swear was grinning smugly under his helmet.
"I had my suspicions. A self-repairing, molecular disruption capable suit of armor that adapts and enhances its user depending on the situation? Who else would be the creator of such a thing?"
"Dorn." I retorted instantly
"Ferrus Manus." Vail quipped.
"Perturabo'd do it out of spite."
"Sanguinius could've done it as an art project."
"My money was on Dorn, 'I have Reinforced the human form, Father.' " I capped off my explanation with possibly the worst impression of Dorn you'd ever see.
Tu'Shan stared at the two of us through his lenses with his arms crossed.
"Do you know what you just did there, David?"
Oh dear. That's not a good tone.
"You've forfeited your right to mercy in our training."
Crap.