Fate is ever-changing; it twists and turns, and neither gods nor mortals can fathom its trackless path.
It always, at certain moments, deviates from its seemingly predetermined course, striking a heavy blow to those who believe they have seen through it.
Ancient legends circulate in the Warp, claiming that the great game orchestrated by the Lord of Change has the ultimate goal of destroying all things.
The destruction of all things, everything returning to its origin, and then destroying the origin itself completely, is the final chapter of fate.
To glimpse the end of fate, Tzeentch did not hesitate to plan the great game, using various agents to lead the real universe and the Warp to destruction.
Of course, all of this is legend.
The true purpose of the Lord of Change is unknown to anyone, perhaps even to himself.
Fate changed, departing from the future, turning from its destined path and sliding into something beyond the gods' expectations.
The gods' vision pierced the past and future; they knew everything destined to happen and interfered with it.
Only this time, the person who stepped outside the chessboard of fate, in turn, used his unpredictable destiny to influence the gods' game.
The Thirteenth Primarch was supposed to be the eighth to return to the Imperium, but due to Blazkowicz's interference, he became the seventh to return.
The gods came knocking, hoping that "Lord of Destiny" Tzeentch could provide a relatively perfect explanation.
"Fate is unpredictable," outside the Crystal Labyrinth, a hellish storm carried the words of the Chaos God, blocking the inquiries of the three gods.
Such an explanation was hard for the gods to believe, but they could not get more.
They departed reluctantly, their consciousness returning to their respective divine realms, placing their gaze on the past, intercepting the past of the Thirteenth Primarch to see what made him so different.
The Thirteenth Primarch's amniotic pod was swept away from the Emperor's laboratory, detaching from the Warp and falling into the Ultima Orientis Segmentum—Macragge.
Macragge is one of the few worlds that survived and remained intact after the Warp routes were cut off.
Although its political system and technology inevitably regressed, Macragge's society remained relatively stable.
The planet did not regress to barbarism or ignorance; it maintained industrialization, ensuring local self-sufficiency.
The people of Macragge always knew they were a race called "Humans," originating from Terra, and that human footprints were spread across the stars.
Present-day Macragge, due to technological regression, cannot conduct ultra-long-distance space travel, but it uses ships to connect with surrounding worlds and gather external information.
The Primarch's landing went unnoticed; only a court attendant, while out, discovered a naked infant below the Hera waterfall.
He picked up the infant and presented him to one of Macragge's two consuls: Konnor.
Konnor accepted the attendant's offering and named the human male infant—Roboute Guilliman, which in Macragge's culture means "hope."
The consul showed great affection for his adopted son; due to his busy schedule, he could not constantly watch over him, so he entrusted the infant to his housekeeper: Lady Tarasha Euten.
He asked this gentle, kind, brave, and wise lady to raise his young adopted son.
Lady Euten accepted this heavy responsibility; she meticulously cared for Guilliman's growth, giving the consul's adopted son all her love.
Guilliman grew rapidly, far surpassing ordinary children; his physical development was astonishing, and his intellect was remarkably advanced.
By the age of five, his physique was comparable to a young adult's, but his taciturn nature and profound gaze instilled fear in others.
Yes, Lady Euten felt fear when facing a child far beyond her comprehension.
Whenever Guilliman's emotionless, dead, hollow, and utterly inhuman eyes looked at her, fear involuntarily arose in the lady's heart.
Her adopted son was different from other children; his intellect far surpassed that of mortals.
While other children were playing and laughing, Guilliman was reading military theory books, studying war and philosophy.
His evaluations of what he saw were without mediation or compromise, completely extreme, two-sided.
Lady Euten felt fear, and deep down, she even believed that Guilliman was a monster in human skin.
But the lady still adhered to her duty, diligently guiding Guilliman and teaching him to distinguish between good and evil.
This perception lasted for over a decade, until Guilliman led an army to battle.
The Guilliman in her eyes, precise as a machine, with only the two extremes of good and evil in his gaze, shattered this prejudice with his actions, and also made the lady fully accept Guilliman.
That was an operation to clear out barbarians, which brought Guilliman great renown.
In the north of Macragge, barbarians had always existed; they had splintered off in the early days after the Warp routes were cut.
The barbarians occupied the wasteland, constantly sending troops to harass towns, posing a major threat to Macragge.
Entrusting a young man with no combat experience to lead an army initially met with widespread opposition.
The generals and soldiers were unwilling in their hearts, but due to Konnor's long-standing reputation for wisdom, they decided to trust the consul this once.
Lady Euten also accompanied the army to battle; she wanted to see what kind of choices Guilliman would make in war.
As for the outcome of the war, Konnor and Euten, the two who watched their adopted son grow up, never thought he would lose.
Guilliman's campaigns only involved winning and how to win; failure would not appear in his conquests.
Lady Euten kept thinking about how Guilliman would achieve victory and make the barbarians submit to Macragge.
But Guilliman's wisdom in war dispelled Lady Euten's fear, giving her a different view of her adopted son.
Under Guilliman's command, Macragge's forces were unstoppable wherever they went, earning the admiration of the soldiers who had initially distrusted him.
Within days of the war's start, all the barbarian outer strongholds were eliminated, and the main force was surrounded below the tribal waterfall.
Just as everyone was sharpening their blades, preparing to attack, Guilliman gave an order, redirecting the army to another location.
If it had been any other commander, surrounding the enemy without attacking, the army's doubts would have escalated into mutiny.
The various victories along the way made the army firmly believe in their commander's wisdom, so they immediately changed direction and headed for the destination.
The army achieved another victory, capturing the target location, but the results surprised everyone.
It was cold and desolate there, with only towering gravestones.
Guilliman said nothing; he ordered his troops to set up defenses and await the arrival of the barbarians.
And indeed, just as he expected, the barbarian army marched out of their stronghold, full of rage, determined to wage a war to the death with Macragge.
Lady Euten later learned that the cemetery was a sacred place for the barbarians, where their ancestors were buried and worshipped.
As the two sides faced each other, Guilliman walked out of the lines alone, pointed his short sword at the barbarian leader, and invited him to an honorable duel.
He knew the other party would not refuse; the barbarians had a dueling culture, and they were keen on it.
Guilliman was right again; the barbarian leader stepped out, charging with rage and killing intent to engage him in an honorable duel.
Sword gleamed, and blade flashed.
The barbarian leader attacked with all his might, but Guilliman only dodged, never attacking, until the leader's strength was completely exhausted, and he knelt before the lines.
Guilliman stood amidst the cheers, walked up to the leader, looked down at his fragile opponent, and reached for his waist.
Lady Euten turned her head away, unable to bear to watch the scene before the lines.
She imagined the scene of blood splattering, Guilliman executing the opponent, and taking off the head as a symbol of victory.
It was not until exclamations arose one after another that other changes occurred before the lines.
The lady looked over and saw Guilliman take a metal ring from a pouch at his waist and hand it to the leader.
Guilliman stood between the two battle lines and explained the origin of the ring to everyone.
It was the symbol of the King of the Barbarians; whoever possessed it among the barbarians was the universally revered king of all tribes.
In ancient times, when the barbarians declined, a consul of Macragge took it, using it to display his own honor.
As time passed, the ring was forgotten by Macragge, disappearing into thick historical documents.
The barbarians repeatedly encroached on the border to invade Macragge, reclaim the ring, and re-elect a king.
Guilliman had read and memorized all the ancient texts, naturally knowing the ring's purpose, so he came to return it to the barbarians.
With the ring returned and the honorable duel lost, the barbarians naturally ceased hostilities and made peace with Macragge.
Lady Euten looked at the tall figure, a smile appearing on her face.
She was proud that Guilliman had achieved victory, and from her extraordinary adopted son, she saw the existence of humanity.
He could have completely annihilated the barbarians, yet he chose to use wisdom and strategy to reduce killing and win people's hearts.
Guilliman was not a ruthless war machine; he deeply understood the cruelty of war and used war as a means.
War is a means, and killing is also a means. Their ultimate goal is peace.
A war ended.
Guilliman displayed strength in the early stages of the war, then used conciliatory methods to resolve the root cause of the war, and finally won hearts and victory amidst praise.
After returning triumphantly, Lady Euten no longer feared him, treating Guilliman as her proud son.
Guilliman also proved his extraordinary abilities in one war after another, finding a balance between war and humanity.
Such days did not last long; Guilliman's adoptive father—Consul Konnor—died by the assassination of another consul.
When Guilliman heard that his father had been assassinated during another triumphal return, he fell into a berserk state, rushing madly to his father's side.
Conor, poisoned but not yet dead, raised his pistol but pointed it at his son, not letting him get close to avoid being contaminated by the poison.
In his adoptive father's resolute gaze, Guilliman felt grief for the first time; the problem he had always avoided facing was starkly laid bare before him.
Humans would eventually die, and Conor had hinted at this to him long ago.
Amidst Guilliman's cries of sorrow, his adoptive father took one last look at his son before taking his final breath.
The truth of the matter quickly surfaced; before his death, Conor gave Guilliman a coin, hinting at the cause of his demise.
Another Archon, Galan, dissatisfied with Conor's beneficial policies for the common people, planned and launched the despicable assassination.
Guilliman, short sword in hand, stormed into the council hall, his face contorted with rage, staring at his father's killer.
Galan was still twisting the facts to the Elder, claiming that Conor and Guilliman were plotting rebellion.
As the hall gradually quieted, Galan sharply turned to see Guilliman, immediately realizing his death was imminent.
He roared in anger, accusing Conor of betraying Macragge's traditions by implementing policies that benefited the people.
Guilliman's fury surged; he lunged forward, gripping Galan's throat, his short sword thrusting out, about to end his father's killer.
Amidst the council Elder's exclamations, Galan closed his eyes, awaiting death.
The expected gush of blood did not occur; Guilliman's sword stopped just before Galan's heart.
Although the short sword had pierced his robe and penetrated his skin, a little more force would have impaled his heart, killing the vile assassin.
Guilliman's eyes blazed with fury, and he tremblingly lowered his short sword, his voice a low growl of suppressed anger: "I cannot kill you; it is the Senate's job to judge you. I do not have that right."
With that, he placed the short sword on the ground, stood up, and looked at the surrounding Elders.
It wasn't that Guilliman didn't want to kill Galan; he wanted to wash away the vengeance for his father's murder with his enemy's blood.
But reason made him stop at the last moment.
Guilliman's extraordinary mind realized the instant he thrust the sword that if he killed Galan, everything his father had done would be for naught.
Macragge's existing structure, its long-held traditions, and everything his father had stood for would vanish.
His actions were honorable, causing the Elders in the council hall to look at him with respect, a stark contrast to the lying Galan.
An Elder's gaze wavered between the two; he stepped forward and placed his circlet at Guilliman's feet.
This gesture represented an oath of allegiance.
The Elder had once been Conor's political rival, but now, seeing Guilliman's magnanimity, he was willing to submit to him.
He grasped Guilliman's arm and raised it high, displaying a man of great breadth of mind to everyone.
"He placed the Senate above the vengeance for his father's death; such a man is worthy of all our loyalty, he is a true Son of Macragge!"
As he finished speaking, everyone in the council hall removed their circlets and placed them at Guilliman's feet, swearing allegiance to him.
Galan received his judgment, a judgment from the council hall; the killer paid the price he deserved.
With the allegiance of the Senate, Guilliman wielded immense power, inheriting his father's will and beginning his rule.
For a Primarch, war and politics were innate instincts.
Guilliman used his extraordinary wisdom to reorganize Macragge, forging a new future.
The barbarian tribes he conquered were incorporated into Macragge, and all other city-states submitted, completing Macragge's grand unification.
The world developed rapidly, various enlightened policies were issued, and within a short time, it ushered in prosperity.
All of this was thanks to Guilliman; people were sincerely convinced and thrived under his rule.
Macragge alone could not fully display the Primarch's talents, so he turned his gaze to deep space, where there was an even vaster stage.
Macragge, under Guilliman's management, erupted with incredibly strong industrial capabilities.
Warships continuously sailed out of ports, flying into the void, searching for more Human Worlds.
After decades of development, a Human World power centered on Macragge, with its influence extending to surrounding worlds, began to take shape.
Even now, Guilliman dared not relax, handling state affairs daily, striving to do his best.
"Our ship was attacked by an unknown Human World power?" Guilliman sat at his desk, his expression clearly surprised upon hearing the urgent report.
"Yes, My Lord," the attendant kneeling below respectfully replied, "Our ship was attacked."
His brows furrowed in thought, Guilliman's expression constantly changed, and finally, he sighed deeply and said, "Let's go; we'll see it firsthand."
His mind raced; a conflict between Macragge and an unknown power was clearly a major problem.
When the attendant reported that the ship had encountered an external force, Guilliman felt a surge of joy.
It meant that in the vast void, humanity was also actively exploring, searching for possible Human Worlds.
A ship attacked? It sounded particularly jarring to him; he couldn't imagine why humans would still be slaughtering each other in the void.
He understood even less why an exploratory ship, which should carry sincerity and goodwill, would attack Macragge's fleet.
In just a moment of speaking, countless questions flashed through Guilliman's mind; he was somewhat unclear about the truth of the incident.
He rushed to the orbital dock, boarded a ship, and headed to the origin point; he had to investigate the cause and effect of the conflict.
As a strategist and military leader, Guilliman saw the crisis.
The enemy fleet came from afar, very likely possessing lost Warp-travel technology, having traversed countless star systems.
Could Macragge, as it was now, cope with the resources and technology they had acquired through Warp-travel technology?
Thinking of this crucial point, Guilliman's face became very serious, and he urged the captain to speed up: "Please hurry; we must arrive quickly. An unprecedented crisis is about to erupt."
The captain, hearing the King of Macragge's urgency, immediately realized the seriousness of the problem and ordered the crew to increase speed, heading to the conflict zone.
In the cold void, two factions were engaged in a fierce battle, fighting tooth and nail.
The Argent Nur scout ship constantly concealed itself, maneuvering with the enemy ship, avoiding being surrounded by the enemy fleet.
It was clearly visible that wreckage of warships floated in the void; many warships had already been destroyed by the scout ship.
"Star-system communication has been sent; fleet support will arrive soon!" On the enemy battleship, the Sentinels held their ground, defending against the surging crowd.
The veteran Sentinels roared, boosting morale and cursing the enemy: "These despicable wretches enslaved by the Rangdan! They will eventually pay the price!"
By order of King Novick, a small squad of Sentinels, aboard a scout ship, was searching for traces of the Rangdan.
After exiting the Warp and arriving in an unknown star system, the scout ship, through wide-area scanning, detected signs of human presence.
The scout ship contacted the other party, stated their human identity and purpose, and requested to board for communication.
Boarding for communication was a pretense; the true purpose was to check for Rangdan infection.
After Blazkowicz returned to Argent Nur, he had the Iron Men develop some technological tools to scan for potential Rangdan infection by checking the Rangdan brain fluid's reaction in the human body.
The other party agreed to board for communication; five Sentinels, along with mortals and equipment, boarded the ship.
Through covert scanning, no Rangdan infection was found, and the Sentinels learned that the other party came from "Macragge."
A resurgent human authoritarian power, led by a great leader, extending its reach into the void.
Just as the Sentinels were preparing to leave, the people of Macragge attacked them, and the fleet in the void opened fire simultaneously.
Meltabombs exploded at extremely close range, severely wounding a Sentinels recruit, initiating the battle between the two sides.
The veteran immediately ordered the ship to leave, first to notify the fleet, then to return and maneuver against the enemy ship.
The Sentinels on the enemy ship, utilizing their equipment and physical advantages, retreated into the ship's depths amidst the chaos.
The battle lasted ten days; four Sentinels, plus the surviving mortals, fought a guerrilla war within the enemy ship, constantly eliminating enemy forces.
The severely wounded recruit's condition steadily worsened, his vital signs rapidly deteriorating.
Now, they were cornered on the lower deck, and the situation was somewhat dire.
Dimensional light blades cut through the steel hull; in the cramped corridor, the Sentinels built a makeshift temporary defense line.
After a long battle, the Sentinels's spirits remained high, and the mortals behind them gritted their teeth and persevered.
The veteran commanded the overall situation, rationally arranging tactics, his spear continuously firing at the enemies.
He believed that only the guilty Rangdan would attack Argent Nur's ships.
Those "high-ranking" individuals on the ships who showed no infection might just be Rangdan puppets, put forward to deceive them.
"They can't hold on! Keep pushing!" The Macragge captain shouted, ordering the armed sailors to charge and end the battle.
Too many unexpected things had happened since the battle began; he desperately wanted to end it.
The strength of these humans, claiming to be from Argent Nur, was beyond imagination, far exceeding the captain's expectations.
The Captain kept urging, but the sailors held back.
Since attacking those people, they had lost over five thousand men, with little to show for it.
The bodies of their slain comrades were dismembered in the passages, which reeked of blood, accompanied by the stench of corpses from high-temperature areas.
The beings they were fighting did not seem to be human.
They possessed incredible combat will, formidable physical capabilities, indestructible weapons, and astonishingly strong armor.
All of this indicated that the enemy came from a powerful faction and did not fear war.
The armed sailors no longer wanted to throw their lives away; they didn't even know why the Captain had ordered the attack.
Since boarding, the Argent Nur had never made any overstepping moves, only expressing their goodwill.
Then, a melta bomb detonated in a gift box, eliminating several ordinary soldiers and severely wounding a tall Argent Nur warrior.
The armed sailors' hesitation immediately created a gap in their firepower, allowing the Sentinels a brief moment to adjust.
Several of them resupplied in turn, eating the high-energy rations from inside their armor, and also took out a piece, breaking it into small portions for the Auxiliary Army.
A high-energy food item the size of a fingernail could sustain several days of combat needs; they could fight again!
"Attack the bridge." After a brief consideration, the veteran decided to lead his subordinates to attack the enemy's bridge.
After several days of attrition, the enemy's morale was low, and they were severely short-staffed; it was time to counterattack.
The order was given, and the squad's formation immediately changed.
Three Sentinels formed the spearhead, one in the middle carrying a severely wounded person, and the Mortal Auxiliary Army lined up behind them.
This formation was suitable for combat in confined spaces.
Autoguns clanged against the power armor, unable to penetrate its protection, while heavy weapons were blocked by the dimension shield.
The spearhead formation constantly rotated, and dimension rays provided alternating cover in the passage, launching a counterattack against the enemy.
The Nur Auxiliary Army cooperated with the Sentinels; ten soldiers seized the opportunity, constantly emerging from both sides of the squad to provide fire support with their electromagnetic rifles.
"Run! For what reason and purpose are we fighting?"
Morale instantly collapsed; the sailors could no longer endure the senseless sacrifice, letting out cries of grief and indignation.
Facing the ferocious enemies charging at them, and with their comrades constantly falling around them, the sailors lost all courage and scattered at a corner of the warship corridor.
"Keep advancing," the Sentinels veteran growled, following the route he had memorized, heading towards the enemy's command center.
Now was the time; they had to push through in one go, control the enemy commander, and end this despicable attack.
Inside the bridge, the Captain was visibly panicking; the enemies within the ship were fighting with increasing ferocity, closing in on his position.
Enemy ships constantly roamed the star system, appearing and disappearing unpredictably, making it impossible for their side to cope, and most importantly, Guilliman had arrived!
"Conceal the ship, disengage from combat!" The Argent Nur scout ship disengaged from combat, activated its stealth field, and moved into the angle of the star's thermal radiation, masking the ship's rear thermal signature.
Macragge reinforcements had arrived, a new fleet joining the battle; they had to proceed cautiously.
Guilliman frowned at the scanner; as his fleet entered the star system, the attacker's warship immediately vanished without a trace.
He took in the holographic image, his stern face gradually tightening, his hands clenching repeatedly, his knuckles cracking under the immense strength.
Rage surged in his heart at being deceived; Guilliman gritted his teeth, questioning in the comm channel, "Who attacked whom, exactly?"
He, Guilliman, King Nowick of Macragge, the Great Regent!
Now, he felt his intelligence had been trampled, thoroughly humiliated and deceived!
What a "fleet under attack"!
The current situation was clear enough for any sane mortal to understand: someone was lying!
The visitors had only one ship; how could they possibly launch an attack? Why would they launch an attack?
Looking at the warship's design, it wasn't a combat type; it was a typical exploration vessel.
With just one glance, Guilliman analyzed the situation before him: the Macragge fleet was ganging up on the newcomers, and they weren't winning.
All the calculations and contingency plans were rendered useless; he now had to re-think how to appease the visitors' wrath.
Possessing advanced technology and astonishing combat will, from the limited information available, the other party was not a benevolent sort.
"What exactly have you done?" Guilliman forced himself to calm down, suppressing his anger, and questioned the instigating Captain via holographic communication.
"I—" The Captain's expression was panicked; just as he was about to explain, an alarm suddenly blared—the command room's iron door was instantly cut open by a light blade.
He only managed a scream before the holographic communication cut off.
Guilliman's face darkened further; the Captain was likely in dire straits, taken down by the boarding party.
"Get closer; I'm boarding." He ordered the Captain, rising from the command throne, preparing to leave the bridge.
"But, Lord, you cannot put yourself in danger!" The Captain's expression changed, and he immediately tried to dissuade him.
Guilliman waved his hand, rejecting the Captain's good intentions and expressing his helplessness: "I will explain everything clearly to the visitors."
He walked to the elevator, lit up the button for the hangar deck, his eyes distant and thoughtful.
"Lord, you might not be able to leave!" the Captain shouted frantically, urgently calling to Guilliman.
"I see it," Guilliman said expressionlessly, letting out a helpless sigh.
Outside the bridge's viewport, the black void shimmered with an eerie glow; a large number of ships suddenly appeared in the star system.
Guilliman's mind was working at its peak; he was rapidly thinking about how to face what was coming next.
He was well-read and knew that the eerie glow was Warp light; humans of the glorious era used the Warp for intergalactic travel.
Clearly, the visitors had regained their technology and established a powerful regime.
And the nascent Macragge, for some unknown reason, had launched an attack on them.
The colossal steel beasts that appeared in real space had ancient Roman numerals carved on their side hulls—XIII.
"Imperium of Man Thirteenth Legion, Fourth Great Company Fleet, receiving Argent Nur's distress signal, responding to your call for aid!"
The fleet entered the star system, announcing its arrival with an overbearing posture, declaring its identity over public comms.
"The Argent Nur scout ship thanks you for your swift aid! The despicable Rangdan dogs, they ambushed us!"
The Argent Nur scout ship emerged from the void, expressing gratitude to the Thirteenth Legion and briefly explaining the situation.
That human faction called "Macragge" had been classified as Rangdan; they must be dealt with decisively!
Guilliman pricked up his ears, listening to the public comm channel, not daring to miss a single piece of information.
He learned that the newly arrived faction came from the "Imperium of Man," was the Thirteenth Legion under its regime, and was a branch fleet of the Legion.
The faction that Macragge had attacked and ganged up on was called "Argent Nur"; they had a close relationship with the Imperium of Man, so they had called for Legion support.
The Legion had responded to the distress call, coming from the Warp to help the Argent Nur ship.
In an instant, Guilliman processed the information, and the conclusion he reached made his heart pound.
First, the Imperium of Man's military strength was formidable; even a subordinate force of a single complete Legion was immense in scale.
Second, the Argent Nur seemed to be searching for the Rangdan? And their own fleet, which had attacked them, had been classified as Rangdan.
Although he didn't yet know what "Rangdan" was, he knew it was definitely not a good thing!
"Rangdan? Are you sure?" An exclamation came over the public channel. Clearly, the Imperium of Man Thirteenth Legion was greatly shaken by this news.
The battle of Mors was known to all Legions; battle reports and intelligence had spread throughout the fleet.
Two Primarchs cooperated, with the First and Sixth Legions participating, joining forces with the Argent Nur First Fleet to repel them.
The Rangdan were a great enemy of the Imperium!
All Imperial ships had a responsibility to search for the Rangdan and prioritize their annihilation.
Now that the Rangdan had been found, swift and decisive action was required!
"Yes, they are human forces controlled by the Rangdan." The Argent Nur scout ship Captain responded without hesitation.
Luring the Argent Nur ship and then suddenly attacking the Sentinels—who else but the audacious Rangdan, who harbored a blood feud with King Nowick?
To be safe, decisive measures must be taken!
Besides, Macragge had attacked the Argent Nur ship first; it was justifiable both emotionally and logically.
"Communication channel established; we will coordinate to expel the Rangdan!"
In the cold void, the commander of the Thirteenth Legion left a stern and cold message.
"Please wait," Guilliman finished listening, then urgently called out on the public channel, explaining Macragge's origins.
They were not Rangdan; they were legitimate humans!
"Despicable, shameless alien running dogs, prepare to face the Legion's wrath!" The Great Company Captain was merciless, scolding the human running dogs: "Just surrender and die!"
Guilliman underestimated the Legion warriors' hatred for Xenos, receiving a barrage of insults. When he prepared to continue explaining, the other party's communication had already closed.
"There's nothing we can do...." Guilliman looked at the void; the massive fleet was adjusting its formation, closing in on their position.