Alexei and the others followed Calgar toward the resting place of the Ultramarines' Primarch. Silence reigned over the group, broken only by the persistent ticking emanating from the reliquary behind Cawl. The accompanying squad of Ultramarines watched them with intense caution.
Finally, they reached the ultimate destination of their journey. Everyone stepped slowly into the sanctuary of Roboute Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar—a place that felt like the afterlife of a grieving warrior.
Amidst the flickering glow of electronic lanterns, a vast and dim space revealed itself. The entire chamber was like a colossal arched tomb, large enough for a Warlord-class Titan to stride through without obstruction.
Dozens of thick marble pillars reached into the dark vaulted ceiling. Stained glass and obsidian etchings overhead recorded the past glories and epics of the Master of the Thirteenth Legion. Countless statues lined the central avenue, the air was thick with a faint incense, and pious whispers chanting the glorious deeds of the Primarch drifted into their ears.
The moment Alexei entered the space, his gaze was captivated by the lifelike "statue" at the end of the path. That perfect, handsome face and stalwart, towering physique told everyone in silence of his identity: the Father of the Ultramarines Legion, Roboute Guilliman.
"Is this the true visage of a Primarch..." he murmured faintly in his heart.
Guilliman sat quietly upon a throne of exquisite marble and gold. Countless cables connected to the throne hummed as they funneled the energy required for the stasis field. For ten thousand years, nothing about Guilliman had changed; he still wore his battle-scarred power armor, his greatsword resting across his knees.
This included the deep, purplish-black scar at his throat. Its presence completely shattered the aesthetic of the scene, like a crack in a piece of fine jade. It was the wound inflicted by the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim during their fateful duel—the very reason he had been placed in stasis.
In silence, Cawl's party walked toward the throne, stopping at the base of the steps. Countless Ultramarines and their successor chapters had knelt here in pilgrimage, including the Scythes of the Emperor present in the group.
All the Astartes—Ultramarines, Black Templars, and Scythes of the Emperor—saluted the Primarch with reverence. Chapter Master Marneus Calgar stepped to the lowest tier of the stairs and bowed.
He turned back to face Cawl's group. "Now, Archmagos Belisarius Cawl, tell me your intent." Calgar's gaze remained fixed on Cawl's massive form.
"Of course," Cawl nodded. He then recounted a story from ten thousand years ago: how Guilliman had entrusted him with a monumental task. The Primarch had told him that he might fall in the coming battles and commanded Cawl to find a way to resurrect him, promising a great reward.
The Archmagos had seen the potential for greatness in the Primarch and accepted the request.
Now, after ten thousand years of solitary preparation, Belisarius Cawl had come to fulfill that promise. He had brought the apparatus to restore the Primarch; he was here to make Roboute Guilliman walk the earth once more.
What? Make the Emperor's demigod walk among men again? Everyone present was stunned. Calgar could hardly believe his ears. To rebuild Ultramar under the leadership of their Gene-father was a dream beyond the wildest hopes of any Ultramarine.
Alexei looked calmly at the hushed crowd. He knew the critical moment was approaching. He had already ordered his Battlecruiser to move into position over Macragge.
"Is what you say true?" For the first time, a hint of emotion colored Calgar's voice.
"It is," the Aeldari envoy answered for Cawl. Stepping forward, she added, "This is also why I have come. I am the emissary of Ynnead, the God of Death. The Primarch's awakening requires my aid."
Seeing the confusion on the faces around her, she explained impatiently, "The Primarch currently exists on the boundary between life and death. To fully restore him, we need the power of Ynnead. I must use my blade to truly kill him, and then bring him back."
If Cawl's words had brought silence, Yvraine's words were like a boulder thrown into a still lake. Instantly, the room exploded.
Alexei twitched his lips. Why did this sound so familiar? It was the same rhetoric used to "heal" Warmaster Horus back in the day. Calgar roared in fury at Cawl and the others, "You damned heretics! As long as I draw breath, you shall not take a single step onto these stairs!"
Grey Knight Grand Master Voldus stood beside Calgar, his massive nemesis warding staff ready to crush these blasphemers. Even the Black Templars and Scythes of the Emperor distanced themselves from Cawl's party, their weapons training on the massive crate.
Creed shook his head with a bitter smile. Why did he, a mere mortal commander, have to endure such scenes? He looked at Alexei, who remained standing firmly in place, and sighed, staying by his side. Facing the wrathful Ultramarines who looked ready to execute them on the spot, even the battle-hardened Lord Castellan of Cadia felt his scalp go numb.
Chapter Master Tolmeron, however, showed hesitation. He looked at Alexei. The man's steadfast expression made him waver regarding the xenos' words. On one side was the future of his Gene-father; on the other was an ally who had traveled across the galaxy to fight by his side. He remembered Alexei saying he would eventually ask for a favor. He realized this might be that very favor.
Tolmeron closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and—to the astonishment of the other Scythes of the Emperor—stood beside Alexei. He chose to trust his ally's judgment one more time.
Saint Celestine, meanwhile, pleaded with everyone in a gentle voice to have faith, stating this was the Emperor's will, though her words were drowned out by the angry crowd.
However, a calm voice interrupted the clamor: "I believe their counsel. I have seen the future they describe in endless visions."
Chief Librarian Tigurius of the Ultramarines stepped slowly to Cawl's side, striking the stone floor heavily with his staff.
This brought only a brief moment of quiet before the Ultramarines again began shouting for the execution of the heretics.
Alexei looked up calmly at the dim stained glass and whispered, "It's almost time..."
"What?" Creed asked, confused. Things were already this bad—why was he speaking in riddles?
The next moment, the roar of a massive engine drowned out the shouting. As the stained glass of the temple ceiling shattered, a massive shape crashed into the sanctuary. Countless shards sprayed toward the crowd at terrifying speeds; Alexei used his power sword to deflect the glass flying toward them.
In the silence following the explosion, everyone saw the intruder: a crippled Thunderhawk gunship. It had crushed several statues and was wedged into the stone wall. With a screech of tearing metal, its assault ramp lowered.
"Enemy attack!!!" Calgar's voice boomed. As the Chapter Master roared, black shadows leaped from the wreckage. Chaos Raptors in black-and-gold armor lunged at the Ultramarines.
Without hesitation, the shrieks of bolter fire tore through the air. The leading Raptors were shredded into meat. But the Chaos assault didn't stop there. Through the shattered dome, dozens of black dots were plummeting toward the Primarch's resting place.
Dreadclaws slammed into the ground, their doors blown off by sheer force. Dozens of Black Legion elites in Terminator armor stepped out. On the stairs, Calgar looked around in horror. More enemies were on the way. The Temple of Hera was the sacred heart of the Ultramarines, and now it was being desecrated by the talons of Chaos. This was intolerable!
A thunderous firefight erupted. Ultramarines dove for cover, firing from behind pillars and statues at the veterans of the Long War. Alexei was a blur in the chaos; his speed was such that no fire could touch him. His molecular-disruption field tore through any enemy bold enough to stand before him.
"Your Warmaster was no match for me," Alexei shouted, cleaving a Black Legion veteran in half before he could defend himself, blood staining his uniform. "Much less you traitors."
Nearly everyone in Cawl's group joined the fray. The Aeldari Visarch danced through the Black Legion veterans with speed far beyond human limits, his blade carving them into pieces. Even Creed took cover, providing fire support with his bolt pistol.
Calgar, standing on the steps, looked at Cawl and Yvraine. He knew the priority was ending the battle. "Given the common enemy, I will deal with you later. Do not move until this is over, or I cannot guarantee what my brothers will do."
Without waiting for a reply, he activated the power field of the Gauntlets of Ultramar and strode into combat.
The clash of metal was deafening. Blood fell like rain. The entire temple became a theater of heroism and sacrifice. Saint Celestine's sword blazed as she cut down those who truly desecrated this holy place.
However, the Black Legion had orders from the Warmaster: end the life of Roboute Guilliman. They pushed recklessly toward the throne. A barrage of attacks poured toward the sleeping Primarch, only to be intercepted by the psychic shields of the Chief Librarian and the Grey Knight Grand Master.
More drop pods smashed into the temple. The Black Legion traitors surged like an endless black tide against the Ultramarines' line. Even outside the sanctuary, more traitors were arriving. Outnumbered, the Ultramarines were suffering heavy casualties. Even Chapter Master Calgar's armor was covered in dents and scars.
Just as Calgar crushed the skull of a Black Legion veteran with his power fist, he heard a mechanical chime. In that instant, an indescribable fear gripped him. He turned toward the throne. Cawl was stepping back, looking as if he had just completed a momentous task.
Beneath the throne, a mechanical apparatus was unfolding. "No! You bastards! Stop—" A bolt shell cut off Calgar's voice. He furiously tore the traitor apart and looked back again. He saw the scene he dreaded most: the xenos witch raising her sword and plunging it into the Primarch's chest.
"NO!!!" Calgar's eyes nearly burst from their sockets. He turned his head away, unable to watch. He didn't know if his father would fall forever or be reborn.
His bloodshot eyes turned toward the Black Legion. If not for their attack, this might not have happened. He prepared to pour his towering rage onto the enemies before him.
Alexei decapitated an enemy and turned to look. The massive mechanical device now enveloped the throne and the Primarch. This was the turning point. The Chaos tide was pushing for one final strike to destroy the apparatus.
The Ultramarines leaped from cover, making a final stand for a sliver of hope.
"It's time," Alexei stopped and looked up at the ruined ceiling. A massive shadow eclipsed the light. His lips curled upward. "Perfect timing. I hope you won't blame me for damaging the architecture."
The next moment, the heavy lance fire of a Battlecruiser punched through the temple roof. Shattered stone rained down on the Black Legion. The ceiling that had obstructed the fire was gone, replaced by blinding sunlight and the direct fury of the ship's batteries.
Endless laser arrays swept the Black Legion veterans outside. Firepower designed to shred heavy tank armor was not something infantry power armor could withstand. Cawl glanced at Alexei, who was still fighting. The man had told the truth; perhaps he really should visit the world of "Ai-er" (Aiur).
With the Battlecruiser's aid, the enemy's momentum was halted. As the fighting reached its peak, a clear chime rang out from the device on the throne. The pure, crisp note pierced through the chaos of the hall like a knife. The Archmagos, the Ynnari, and Tigurius—fighting back-to-back—all wore smiles of victory.
The mechanical arms of the auto-reliquary retracted with a hiss of gas. Amidst a cloud of white mist, a magnificent silhouette slowly emerged. Silence fell. The chaotic hall suddenly went still. Everyone felt the weight of a terrifyingly oppressive gaze.
The Lord of Ultramar, Father of the Ultramarines Legion, Roboute Guilliman, had fully awakened from his ten-thousand-year slumber. In his hand, he gripped the Emperor's Sword, wreathed in eternal flames. His ornate armor heralded his return to all. He looked upon the hall with endless fury and murderous intent. At this moment, even his loyal sons dared not meet his eyes.
The battle outside raged on, and the cruiser's cannons continued to fire, but the hall itself was locked in an eerie silence. Chapter Master Tolmeron trembled as he looked at the figure standing high by the throne. Their father had returned.
Creed stared blankly at the demigod. He had heard the epics of this being in bedtime stories as a child. Now, he stood so close. Seeing that magnificent form, Creed remembered Alexei's words: "Your jaw is going to hit the floor."
Not far away, Alexei wore a wide, wild grin. Finally, he had witnessed this epic scene in person. He had imagined the Primarch's awakening countless times, and now, he was standing right there to see it.
Suddenly, a roar erupted nearby. Here comes the fool, Alexei thought. A Chaos Marine dedicated to Khorne leaped high, swinging a massive axe at the Primarch. The roar was cut short, followed by the wet thud of meat hitting the floor.
Guilliman had simply cleaved the traitor apart. His sword was so fast that almost no one in the hall could track it; only a select few could even see the afterimage.
The battle resumed—but this time, it was a slaughter of traitors by the hand of a Primarch.