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They would cleanse every planet in Ultramar, then radiate to other territories of the Imperium, save humanity that is continually sliding towards the abyss, and prevent the fate of the extinction of the Human Imperium.
Countless engines of war were activated amidst the prayers of the Tech-Priests, leaving the starports with massive trails of fire, sailing towards the starry void.
One after another, the ships' Gellar fields were activated, bathing the massive hulls in a faint glow.
The Gellar field is one of the crucial technologies enabling humanity to traverse the warp.
The field effectively prevents the ships of the Imperium from being corroded by the warp, and wards off the unliving entities hidden beneath the warp's waves from attacking the ships.
The awakening of Guilliman and his ferocious declaration of war had already caught the attention of the gods.
A Primarch daring to declare war on them was an unforgivable crime.
Their response was equally simple and brutal.
The warp boiled due to the gods' rage, the tumultuous Warp stirring up a storm akin to terrifying waves.
The warp tides roiled, roaring, and the storm of destruction continuously assaulted them.
"Arrogance takes the form of a swirling vortex. Rage and desire merge into a raging storm, while despair transforms into steep straits, atop whose cliffs dwell countless ravenous demons.
They await any opportunity for the Imperium's vessels to expose any vulnerabilities, poised to launch their attacks.
Navigators, shackled and immersed in nutrient fluid, have their arms and heads connected to the ship's mechanical apparatus by cables.
They strive to utilize their third eye to perceive the course of the aetheric currents, guiding the ship's voyage.
Navigators are unique beings with a history spanning tens of thousands of years.
With humanity stepping into the stars and initially colonizing the galaxies, Navigators appeared in the human world.
In the golden age, when humans first encountered the warp, a subtle genetic mutation occurred in some of them.
These individuals were extremely sensitive to the energy flows of the Warp and could provide effective guidance and navigation during warp travel.
After alterations and optimization, these individuals became Navigators.
Navigators have a third eye, either as a result of tech-priest enhancements or a natural mutation.
This third eye can observe the flow of aetheric energy in the Warp, discern direction, and most importantly, see the glow of the Astronomican.
The Astronomican is an important beacon for Imperial warp navigation, constructed by the Emperor during the Great Crusade, and currently maintained by the Adeptus Astronomica.
The fleet's journey is perilous. Despite being prepared, Guilliman felt apprehensive when faced directly with the warp storms.
The Astronomican's light is barely visible, having become incredibly faint, and Navigators must expend greater effort to identify the course.
Imperial vessels can no longer linger in the Warp as they used to and must exit the Warp periodically.
Thanks to the maintenance by tech-priests, the Gellar Fields of every ship in the fleet are functioning normally.
Without these fields, humans would be like lambs to the slaughter in the Warp.
"It seems we must find a way to calm these warp storms," Guilliman said, looking at the data slate in his hand. His eyebrows furrowed, the warp storm was more severe than he had imagined.
Either find a way to quell the warp storms or enhance the resistance of the Imperial vessels against them.
If neither can be achieved, retaliation against the gods would be a joke.
Demons and traitors are unaffected by the warp storms, while the Imperium of Man struggles to move. It is easy to imagine how difficult victory will be for the Imperium.
Guilliman pondered on where he could find something or some technology to address this matter of navigation, ensuring that the Imperial fleet arrives at its destination precisely and without error.
Footsteps echoed as a young man in a long robe, his eyes completely white, entered the primarch's chamber.
"Sir."
The young man, though blind, was able to locate Guilliman with ease and bowed respectfully."
"Rosan, what brings you here?" Guilliman interrupted his contemplation, raising his head to look at the young man who entered.
He didn't mind the other's white pupils; such blindness was not uncommon. The eyes of the Astropaths were mostly like this. In simple terms, they were all blind, but they had the eye of the mind, which could replace the function of the physical eyes.
The Imperium's faster-than-light travel relied on the Warp. Naturally, faster-than-light communication between the stars depended on the Warp as well. The distances between galaxies were too vast, spanning tens or hundreds of light-years. Conventional communication was seriously delayed and could not meet the needs of the Imperium. Warp communication was a necessity.
Astropaths played a crucial role in the Imperium's ability to use the Warp to transmit messages. Each sector, sub-sector, and region would establish an Astropathic fortress to collect and relay information.
Astropaths would convert their intended messages into thoughts and dreams, then use their psychic abilities to send them into the Warp, crossing the galaxy to other Astropaths. The communication between Astropaths was not in words, but thoughts and dreams.
The receiving Astropath needed to describe all aspects of the dream, then analyze it to extract the information. To enhance this transmission and ensure it was not tampered with by certain Warp entities, Astropathic choirs were often formed to amplify the transmission power, ensuring that the Imperium could receive their messages.
All Astropathic fortresses and active Astropaths aboard various fleets fell under the control of the Astra Telepathica on Terra, which regularly replenished the number of Astropaths at each fortress.
All Astropaths would undergo a special process to shape their abilities, the soul-binding ritual. Periodically, the Astra Telepathica would send screened psykers to the Imperial Palace.
These psykers would be purified by the Emperor's power, enabling them to maintain their sanity under the scrutiny and whispers of Warp daemons, without becoming corrupted or devoured.
But the soul-binding ceremony also carried risks. Due to the Emperor's powerful will and psychic energy, ordinary psykers could not directly perceive His presence in the Warp, often leading to damage to their visual organs, resulting in blindness.
In more tragic cases, they would lose their sense of smell and hearing. Rosan was fortunate; he had only lost his sight.
"New information, my lord. A distress call from the Sarum system. The forces of Chaos are still ravaging there. The local defenders claim they are under attack from Plague Marines."
"Plague Marines?" Guilliman frowned slightly, but soon relaxed and made arrangements. "Let the fleet continue towards the industrial system of Konor. I will lead a small force to deal with this situation."
"My lord, is this not somewhat unwise? You should not risk yourself in this manner. Perhaps you could assign a few captains to handle this matter instead," Rosan said, attempting to dissuade Guilliman from going personally and suggesting the task be delegated to others.
"There is no place that is absolutely safe; danger is what a Primarch must face. I need some victories to stabilize the hearts of the Imperium's citizens. Even a trivial victory will be interpreted by those who yearn for it as a sign of the Imperium's counterattack, and the failure of Chaos. Do you understand, Rosan? They are too afraid. They need victory for comfort and to boost their confidence," Guilliman, smiling, replied to Rosan, who stood before him.
"But I still don't think it's a good idea. You're too important. If anything were to happen to you, who would guide the Imperium?"
"I am not a figurehead; I am a Primarch, a Primarch with powerful abilities. I was created to help the Imperium achieve victories in countless wars, not to be placed on a shelf as a mascot. Our conversation ends here. I hope you return to your post and continue collecting information from the Warp. I look forward to your next report."
"Rosan obeys your orders, my lord."
"Very well, off you go. And let Sicarius enter from the door; I have something to say to him."
Rosan saluted once more and stepped out. He understood that once a Primarch made a decision, it was unshakeable. He could suggest, but that was all. The authority of a Primarch could not be swayed. Upon hearing Guilliman's words, Rosan obediently stepped out and allowed Sicarius to enter and find the Primarch.
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"Sir, do you have any orders for me?" Sicarius entered and asked, looking at the seated Guilliman with a questioning gaze.
Guilliman rose, and his armor made a delightful sound with his movement. He wore the armor that allowed him to return from death at all times. This suit of armor was not just a creation of the Adeptus Mechanicus; it contained a trace of the power of death, precisely the power that filled the spiritual wound of Guilliman, allowing him to resurrect.
In that duel at Calth, Guilliman was stabbed viciously by the traitorous Primarch Fulgrim. The blow pierced his throat, making him sleep for thousands of years. The wound was not just physical; it was also a spiritual injury. Otherwise, even if a Primarch's heart was taken out, he would not die immediately.
The Primarch Ferrus Manus was killed because Fulgrim used a weapon infused with the power of Chaos; otherwise, it would have been impossible to kill a Primarch. As of now, Guilliman has no means to remove his suit of armor. Perhaps when he unlocks the second layer of his database, he might find a way.
"The Astropaths have received a message. The Sarum system is under siege by Plague Marines, and they need some help. I've analyzed this information; the system lies on our route. Therefore, I've decided to let the Macragge's Honour lead a portion of the fleet to solve the problem in that system. I need you to muster the warriors, so that when we exit from the Warp, we can form a force immediately. We must be as quick as possible, clean up the Sarum system, and then rejoin the fleet for our journey to the industrial system - Konor."
After a moment's hesitation, Sicarius cautiously replied, "This matter doesn't require your personal intervention. Captain Felix can handle it, he would do well. You shouldn't enter the battlefield; we can't afford to risk losing you."
"No, I can't make a decision and let others fight for it while I hide in the back. Moreover, the fleet will eventually need to split up to aid different systems. I am a Primarch; the Imperium needs me to achieve victories, the citizens of the Imperium need me to win. The matter is settled, Sicarius, go prepare."
Guilliman's tone became solemn, leaving no room for doubt.
Going to the Sarum system to eliminate the Plague Marines, in addition to pacifying the public, Guilliman had his own plans. The Lord of Dominance template could convert the faith of the Imperial citizens into power. The higher the renown, the greater the victories, the more trust from the public. Just like the 'murder book' in the gorge, constantly stacking buffs until, in the end, it's 'kill whoever obstructs, exterminate whoever interferes.'
Guilliman's enemy has always been clear: the Chaos gods. If he lives, the gods die. If he dies, the gods live. The conflict between the two is as stark as fire and water, extremely sharp, with no room for compromise or mitigation. One side must fall for this war to end. Guilliman must seize every opportunity to enhance his reputation and influence, ensuring that the citizens of the Imperium firmly believe he, the Lord of Ultramar, one of the Emperor's sons, is the beacon of salvation.
Upon hearing Guilliman's resolute and undeniable words, Sicarius had no choice but to agree. He bowed his head, took a respectful bow, turned around, and walked out to gather the warriors on the Macragge's Honour. They must be ready for battle and aim to cleanse the Sarum system as quickly as possible.
Guilliman was going to lead a fleet alone to rescue the Sarum system. The rest of the fleet would be managed by different heroes. Though gathering such a large number of battleships together is undoubtedly powerful.
The fleet, however, couldn't quickly secure victory and restore peace to Ultramar.
The fleet would split. Imperial heroes such as Celestine and Amalrich would each lead a fleet to rescue star systems trapped in the clutches of Chaos.
The ultimate destination of these fleets was the industrial system of Konor, on the farthest edge of the Ultramar region, and nearest to the border of Imperial territory.
The Imperial heroes would take various routes to the Konor system, rescuing the star systems that needed help along the way.
Once all fleets arrived in the Konor system, the task of purging the forces of Chaos from the region of Ultramar would essentially be complete, with the forces then able to extend their reach to other regions of the Imperium.
Saint Celestine, Inquisitor Greyfax, and other Imperial heroes didn't want Primarch Guilliman to personally join the battlefield, fearing the loss of him like ten thousand years ago. However, they were convinced by Guilliman, each taking their fleet to complete their mission, to save the people in deep distress.
On the bridge of the Macragge's Honour.
The servitors linked to the main control centre's computer started to tremble. The magnitude of the trembling caused the neural cables connected to their cerebral cortex to shake as well.
The servitors announced the information in unison.
"Coordinates detected, Sarum Star System."
The captain, with his mechanical arm and electronic eye, scrutinized the multitude of data windows in front of him and commanded, "Enter realspace."
The data officer, power officer, and intelligence officer updated the data every moment at the fastest speed their mechanical parts would allow, so they could better control the massive ship.
"Realspace coordinates data analysis completed."
"Energy circuit is switching, attempting to open the realspace portal."
"Power systems are stable."
In a series of rapid announcements, the twenty-six kilometre long Macragge's Honour burst out of the warp, followed by the warships of other chapters, fighting alongside Guilliman.
A vast amount of information flooded into the bridge, with data being rapidly shared between the warships.
The auspex screeched, and the cogitator hummed at high speed.
"Warning, Chaos ships detected."
"Warning, Chaos ships detected."
The servitor connected to the auspex via neural cables convulsed, and the brass voice emitter embedded in its throat quickly relayed the information about the enemy.
"Switch the Geller field to void shields, prepare for battle, fire at will, wipe out these damned traitors, let them know our power," the captain, gripping the railing in front of him, roared.
Sarum Star.
Gryphonne IV Hive.
The historic mega hive had already largely fallen under the relentless onslaught of the Plague Marines.
The surviving civilians have been evacuated to the massive Celestial Fortress, where the void shield is still operating normally, serving as the last refuge for these survivors.
The continuous roar of artillery fire persists, with the remaining planetary defenders leveraging the final fortress of the Hive City, sniping at the Plague Marines in a desperate attempt to halt their advance.
The tide of the plague-made zombies is gradually engulfing the defenders' positions, with the shadow of death looming ever closer, driving the defenders into deeper despair.
Inside the fortress, civilians, their faces etched with pain, huddle together, attempting to draw some mental strength to survive in this bleak and desperate world from the warmth of each other.
Men and women of suitable age have been drafted to the battlefield, only to become corpses that fall, rise again, and transform into plague-ridden zombies.
An elderly woman holds two children close. The children's innocent eyes are filled with fear and unease, their unspeakable sadness tugging at the heartstrings.
At an age that should be filled with innocence, they have already understood the pain of life and death.
Born in a dark age, all they see is despair and suffering.
Their peaceful lives were shattered just a few months ago, as the children watched their fathers take up arms and join the soldiers on the battlefield.
They watched as their mother was seized by the plague zombies, who screamed in agony for them to run. They watched as their mother was torn apart by the zombies.
"Grandma, didn't you always say that the Emperor will protect us? Why didn't he send his angels to save us? He didn't save Mom and Dad either," asked a trembling girl, her gaze shifting from the praying believers in the distance to the old woman holding her.
The elderly woman looked at the girl, suppressing her own fear and managed a kindly smile, her withered and bony arms holding the girl tightly.
"Grandma doesn't know, dear. Perhaps, the Emperor's angels are too busy."
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