"Since you're so eager to see me, let's get it over with."
A voice thundered across the battlefield. A massive bolt of lightning, crackling with raw destructive power, slammed toward Guilliman.
"Shield!" Daniel roared, raising the Heavenly Punishment Scepter. A surge of spiritual energy erupted, coalescing into a shimmering golden dome. The lightning shattered against the barrier, dissipating into thin air.
"Calling for backup? I really underestimated you, Roboute," a voice sneered from above.
Magnus the Red descended. He was a terrifying sight—a cyclopean giant with a crimson, glowing body and massive, iridescent wings.
Great horns curled from his brow, and his face was a mask of warp-fueled ferocity, fangs bared in a beastly snarl. The noble scholar of old was gone, replaced by something far more arrogant and monstrous.
Magnus fixed his single eye on Daniel. "I can't read your fate, mortal, but you reeks of my father. I'm curious—what kind of empty promises did that corpse on the throne make to turn you into such a loyal lapdog?"
Daniel didn't flinch. "Anyone with a half a brain knows you stick with your own kind. Your 'godhood' is built on the back of the very humanity you betrayed." He stepped forward. "Without that foundation, you're just another forgotten god, begging for scraps in the dark."
"A lowly bug with a fraction of my father's power thinks he can judge me?" Magnus's face twisted in rage.
"I might be a bug, but what does that make you?" Daniel shot back. "An insect too stupid to know he's stepped in it? Everyone in the galaxy knows the story of the one-eyed Ogryn who let his house burn down and was too chicken to say anything about it."
Daniel leaned in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now you're just a errand boy for the monsters that trashed your home planet, taking out your frustrations on innocent people because you're too scared to bite the hand that feeds you. You're not even a stray dog—at least a stray dog has enough spine to growl when someone kicks his den. You just kneel and beg for a bone."
Magnus's knuckles turned white as he gripped his staff. The air around him began to shimmer with murderous intent.
"Vicious words," Magnus hissed. "Too bad talk is cheap."
Daniel just smiled. "Oh, am I being too mean? Is the one-eyed Ogryn's heart as fragile as his ego? You're like a mentally unstable giant baby."
Beside him, Guilliman's eyes widened. Good lord, the Primarch thought, this kid's tongue is more poisonous than a temple assassin's. I need to take notes.
"ENOUGH!" Magnus roared. He unleashed a blast of arcane light, but Daniel's shield held firm.
"Triggered already?" Daniel mocked. "Even with 'gods' backing you, you're still just an overgrown child. Honestly, Magnus, if I were you, I'd just call it quits. Ahriman is twice the leader you are."
"I said ENOUGH!" Magnus's single eye burned like a star. "Your words mean nothing. A mortal cannot fathom the knowledge I possess. I am eternal! I am the master of the universe's mysteries! You understand nothing!"
Daniel didn't respond with words. Instead, he mimicked the motion of someone being picked up and slammed onto their knees, then made an exaggerated face of agony. "Hey everyone, look! It's the one-eyed Ogryn with the broken spine again! Still bragging, I see!"
Even Hilandri, the Harlequin, looked on in shock. This "Saint" of the Emperor was something else. He was winning the psychological war before the blades even crossed.
"Go to hell!" Magnus snapped. His staff erupted in a surge of psychic energy that shook the very foundations of the Webway.
"Magnus! I'm the one you want!" Guilliman roared, charging forward. The air became thick as molasses, a psychic weight meant to crush a man's soul, but the Primarch pushed through. Magnus threw curses and blue fireballs at his brother, but the Emperor's protection held strong.
Daniel joined the fray, launching glowing psychic spears that lit up the tunnel like noon-day suns. As Magnus raised a shield to block the barrage, Guilliman saw his opening. He leapt into the air, the Hand of Dominion glowing with a crackling power field.
The punch landed with a sound like a thunderclap. It was a hit that would have flattened a battle tank. Magnus's face shattered, and he was sent spiraling back into the ruins. Ichor—thick, demonic blood—sprayed across the floor, and weird, warp-tainted mushrooms sprouted wherever it touched.
Magnus tried to rally, drawing on the Warp to heal his broken face, but Daniel wouldn't let him breathe.
"Soul Storm!" Daniel's voice took on an ethereal, booming quality. A tide of golden energy swept through the corridor, washing away the foul influence of the Warp. Magnus's connection to his dark masters flickered and died.
Guilliman closed the distance, the Emperor's Sword wreathed in white-hot flames. Magnus swung his bladed staff in a desperate arc, but Guilliman parried it effortlessly. With a roar, the loyal Primarch landed another crushing blow, sending Magnus crashing deeper into the wreckage.
Magnus looked up, battered and bleeding. Without the Warp to shield him, he was vulnerable. He looked at the two of them and realized he was about to get the "Fulgrim treatment." With a desperate flash of light, the Crimson King vanished into the shadows.
"Coward!" Guilliman screamed. "Come back and finish this!"
"We have to go," Hilandri warned, pulling at Guilliman's arm. "Tzeentch's reinforcements are coming. If Fateweaver gets here, we're trapped."
Guilliman forced himself to calm down. The battlefield was a mess. Sicarius and the others were holding the line, but they were being buried under a mountain of daemons.
"This isn't over, Magnus!" Guilliman shouted to the empty air. "Consider this a down payment on your past sins. I'm coming for the rest later."
As the team fought toward the exit, Daniel messaged Arale. Get every player level 5 and up ready. We're doing a hot drop.
On the Glory of Macragge, the world chat was blowing up. "I went twenty rounds with Angron!" "Yeah, you died in round two and he spent the next eighteen rounds using your corpse as a stress ball." "I'm bringing a nuke next time. These Slaanesh daemons are too weird for me."
Suddenly, the screen flashed: [URGENT MISSION: HOLD THE LINE] The Primarch is breaking for Terra. We need every sword on deck. High rewards. Direct teleport in 15 minutes.
The chat went dead for a second before erupting in a frenzy of "LFG!" and "For the Emperor!"
Back in the Webway, the loyalists were pinned. Magnus was playing it safe now, hiding in the mist and sending waves of wizards and daemons to do his dirty work. Just as the encirclement was closing in, Daniel's body began to glow.
The Emperor used him as an anchor. From the shadows, the Legion of the Damned emerged—jet-black armor, bone ornaments, and ethereal fire. Their bolters roared, clearing a path through the daemon tide. At the same moment, the first wave of players teleported in.
"ANGRON! I'M BACK FOR ROUND TWO!" a player yelled, revving a chainaxe as he charged headlong into a group of sorcerers.
"Hold them off at all costs!" Daniel ordered.
"You got it, boss! Kill anything with too many eyes!" the players screamed, throwing themselves into the meat grinder with reckless abandon. Every second they bought was another second for the pilgrimage fleet to reach safety.
Finally, a runed gate appeared. "Helmets on!" Hilandri commanded.
They stepped through the archway, and reality hit Daniel like a physical weight. The illusory warmth of the Webway was gone, replaced by the freezing, silent vacuum of the moon. They stood on the dusty surface of Luna, with the massive, glowing marble of Terra hanging in the sky above them.
"One small step for man..." Warmaster began to quote.
"Pipe down," Yuji interrupted. "Humanity took that leap ten thousand years ago. You're just late for the party."
"We're finally here," Warmaster sighed, looking at the distant spires of the Imperial Palace.
"Don't get comfortable," the player Caesar warned. "Magnus isn't the type to let a grudge go."
Right on cue, the Webway gate behind them exploded. Magnus and Fateweaver stormed out into the lunar dust, flanked by an army of Thousand Sons.
The final battle for the gates of Terra had begun.