In the hollowed-out expanse of the temple, Roboute Guilliman sat alone upon the high throne. He gazed at the shattered ruins before him; the corpses had already been cleared away by the Chapter serfs, leaving behind only broken statues and splintered stained glass. It was a reflection of the state of the Imperium as he had heard it described: broken and battered.
Finally, in the long-stretched silence, the Primarch allowed his iron-willed facade to slip. For a brief moment, his face betrayed a hint of sorrow, pain, and desolation.
The scar that ran across his throat throbbed with a dull ache, but it paled in comparison to the agony within his heart.
Over the past few days, he had summoned Belisarius Cawl, the Living Saint, his sons, and even the Aeldari who called themselves the Ynnari. Guilliman had engaged them in deep, exhaustive exchanges. He had used his innate gifts—the natural charisma and cunning of a born statesman—to make them forget they were conversing with a demigod, hoping to gather more raw intelligence in a relaxed atmosphere.
Though Guilliman had maintained a kind smile and offered steady nods throughout these conversations, every word he heard felt like a bayonet thrust into his chest. Confusion and dread weighed on him until he could barely breathe; grief and anguish threatened to overwhelm him.
Guilliman buried his face in his massive hands, his body trembling uncontrollably. He could only vent his emotions in the brief intervals between guests, fighting to ensure he would not collapse during the next audience.
"Thousands of years... Father," the Primarch's low murmur echoed from behind his heavy gauntlets. "We have failed..."
He dropped his hands and looked up through the shattered roof of the cathedral. He stared directly into the blinding sunlight, searching for that magnificent figure he once knew, but his efforts were in vain. "Look at what they have become! Bigotry, blindness, ignorance... everyone fervently worshiping a god who loathed divinity, committing atrocities in his name. How farcical..."
"You failed us. We failed everyone. Look at the state of the Imperium now, Father!"
"Why! Why am I still alive? What else do you want from me? This Imperium has long since lost all reason and hope; it is nothing but a bloated, rotting corpse with a single breath remaining! Why must I be the one to witness this?"
Guilliman's furious voice echoed through the empty temple. Eventually, in the infinite silence, the Primarch regained his composure. His deep gaze turned toward the temple gates, and he summoned his final guest.
"Have the Governor of Aiur, Alexei, come see me."
Alexei had stayed in the room designated by the Ultramarines for four days. The decor was austere, devoid of any unnecessary flourishes—very much in the utilitarian style of the Ultramarines.
During this time, he watched through the window as one person after another was summoned by Guilliman, yet the message for him never came. He could only pace the room in anxious anticipation.
Finally, there was a knock at the door. Alexei hurried to open it. An Ultramarine Honour Guard stood there, his towering silhouette blocking the sunlight from the corridor. He said little, merely stating, "Please follow me," before turning to lead the way.
Alexei stepped out immediately, knowing the critical moment had arrived. He followed the giant warrior to the entrance of the shattered temple. The Honour Guard stopped there and gestured for him to proceed alone.
Alexei took a deep breath and stepped into the ruins. In the distance, the figure of the Primarch sat high upon the throne, a beam of light from above shining directly on him, obscuring his expression.
Upon seeing Alexei's arrival, the Primarch stood and descended to the final step of the dais. "Thank you for coming to meet me, Governor of Aiur."
"It is my honor, my Lord." Alexei bowed respectfully before looking up at the peaceful face of the Primarch. It was hard to believe this was the same being who had recently treated an army of millions like mere chaff.
"I have heard of your deeds from Cawl and others," Guilliman said slowly. "Thank you for your contributions to the Imperium and for your willingness to travel such a great distance to support us."
"As a subject of the Imperium, it is my duty." Alexei's answer was flawless.
Guilliman did not press further immediately. He studied the man before him with a calm gaze and a gentle smile. Alexei did not shrink from the Primarch's eyes, looking back with confident eye contact.
Guilliman nodded in satisfaction. "Now, let us discuss why you have come to find me. And those new armaments produced on the world of Aiur."
The Primarch had already learned much about Alexei from his talks with Cawl, Tarchila, and Creed. He saw a governor from a remote world who nevertheless commanded a vast army that rivaled Space Marines in quality, and a small fleet capable of crossing great distances to reinforce the Scythes of the Emperor.
Alexei composed his thoughts and presented his prepared narrative to the Primarch: the image of a governor who rose from the bottom to fight Chaos traitors and resist xenos invasions. He spoke of the technological relics discovered deep within the under-hives, and most importantly, the engine capable of long-range jumps without entering the Warp.
He also voiced the reasons for seeking the Primarch's aid. Aiur could no longer sustain the crushing tithes of the Imperium; his technologies were not recognized by the Inquisition or the Mechanicus; and trials from various Imperial factions were imminent. Even though he wished to fight for humanity and the Emperor, he was being backed into a corner. He sought the Primarch's protection so that Aiur could continue to serve the human cause.
Guilliman's superhuman mind processed the Governor's words instantly, latching onto the most critical piece of information. "You say Aiur possesses a technology capable of long-range jumps without passing through the Warp?"
"Yes, my Lord." Alexei kept his head bowed, preventing the towering Guilliman from reading his expression.
Guilliman clenched his fist, lost in thought, his emotions surging. As a son of the Emperor, he understood exactly what such technology implied. He paced back and forth, finally realizing why the Governor of Aiur faced judgment from all sides.
A stagnant Imperium would not allow such revolutionary technology to exist. The Inquisition, the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, the Navigator Houses... they would not tolerate an invention that could render them obsolete in the long river of history. But humanity needed new hope.
He stopped and looked at the respectful Governor. "How can you prove that what you say is true, and what is it you truly desire?"
Finally, it was time. Alexei looked up, staring directly at the Primarch standing in the light. His eyes burned with intensity. "A portion of Aiur's fleet has arrived in the Macragge system; they can prove my words. Archmagos Cawl will also travel to Aiur to verify our technology." He paused, taking a deep breath. "The tide of Chaos has arrived, and Aiur sits in the eye of the storm. I ask that you allow a temporary exemption from Aiur's tithes. Furthermore, I ask for your guarantee of Aiur's safety and the right for Aiur to maintain autonomous military command..."
As Alexei finished his request in one breath, the entire space fell silent. The Primarch remained silhouetted against the sun, his expression unreadable.
After a long silence, Roboute Guilliman spoke. "At this moment, I cannot grant the requests you ask." After all, the constraints of the Codex and the law bound the Primarch as well. "But I can guarantee that after I return to Terra to face my Father, I will provide you with all the support I can—provided you never betray humanity."
Alexei breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't care about the timing; he only cared about the Primarch's stance. He knew that Guilliman would eventually become the Lord Regent, the Hand of the Emperor in the mortal realm.
He bowed deeply. "Thank you for your wise decision." Then, he slowly backed out of the temple.
Guilliman watched Alexei's departing back in silence. He looked once more at the ruins and thought of the warriors who had fought there days ago. They were children of this dark age, having known nothing but hardship, suffering, and endless conflict. Despite this, they fought on unyieldingly, never faltering even when surrounded by enemies.
He had seen the age of glory and reason. It was his duty to lead them toward a better future. Having heard from the Governor and Cawl, he believed that for humanity, hope still remained.