The defensive lines outside the Imperial Palace of Terra collapsed entirely in a single day. The mortal Astra Militarum were utterly powerless to halt the advance of Khorne's demonic hordes, and those regiments that failed to evacuate in time were reduced to mere additions to the mountain of skulls.
Upon learning of the collapse of the frontline, Guilliman made an immediate decision: all designated reinforcement units were to fall back inside the Imperial Palace at once. The Siege of Terra from ten thousand years ago seemed to be playing out across this land once more.
At that moment, within a grand portico behind a towering wall, four thousand Adeptus Custodes stood fully assembled. Among them were many veterans clad in Aquilon and Telemon Terminator armor, flanked on both sides by dreadnoughts of various patterns.
Not since the shameful battles of the Horus Heresy ten thousand years prior had a Custodian host of this scale been gathered. Spears and halberds formed a dense forest, and their golden swords and shields merged into a glittering, majestic ocean.
Every member of the Warden phalanx had drawn their blades, standing in silence as they gazed toward the high platform ahead, awaiting the command to march.
Trajann Valoris swept his gaze silently across the sea of golden warriors below, their power armor reflecting a blinding golden light. He slowly raised his left hand, and his voice thundered out:
"Let these warp-spawn be trampled beneath us, and banish them back to their filthy dens!"
As his words fell, a deafening war cry erupted from every Custodian. The Emperor's warriors hungered for glory, and their voices were powerful enough for all to hear.
Alexei had already reached the top of the towering walls. In the distance, the bloody clouds in the sky rolled continuously as if about to swallow the earth, and the air was thick with a mixed scent of rust and sulfur—the harbingers of the oncoming demonic army.
Below the ramparts, the final batch of timely evacuated Astra Militarum soldiers had crossed within the walls. Before long, a tidal wave of daemons began to surge toward the high walls of the Imperial Palace, spearheaded by eight massive figures marching forward step by step.
The heavy artillery batteries on the ramparts had already opened fire, hurling barrages capable of obliterating Titans into the sea of daemons. Yet, under the influence of the warp's blasphemous powers, the efficacy of these strikes was far lower than usual.
The demonic tide crashed heavily against the glowing metal barriers. In the distance, the roaring engines of Khorne's brass scorpions drew ever closer. Alexei jammed his power sword into the ground beside him, pulling out a self-manifested C-14 Impaler Gauss Rifle.
Governor Al was firing frantically into the demonic horde below him, the depleted-uranium armor-piercing rounds from his 1,000-round heavy drum magazine letting out a supersonic shriek as they tore into the bloodthirsty fiends.
Unlike everyone else, every single bullet Alexei fired claimed a daemon's life. He wrapped the power of a C'tan around his ammunition, rendering the so-called rules of the Warp utterly meaningless before him.
The daemons at his feet fell like wheat, and the smile on Alexei's face grew increasingly uninhibited. After using a power sword so often, playing around with firearms for a change was quite exceptional.
Beside him, the Chapter Master of the Scythes of the Emperor lowered his useless heavy bolter, casting an exceptionally complex look at the man laughing wildly as he fired. He opened his mouth behind his helmet as if to say something, but ultimately gave up.
The Chapter Master and the Space Marines behind him abandoned ranged combat, taking up their melee weapons instead to await the daemons' assault.
Alexei kept firing until the very last round in his magazine was spent, muttering a few words as he prepared to reload. The daemons had long since noticed the unusual activity along this stretch of the wall, and their numbers swelled once more.
A Bloodthirster of Khorne sprinted toward their section, a terrifying sense of oppression instantly flooding the hearts of everyone atop the wall. Alexei looked up, a trace of shock flashing through his eyes—not because the enemy attacker was a Greater Daemon, but rather...
"Why is Ka'bandha here?!" Thoughts raced through Alexei's mind. In his memory, the eight Greater Daemons at the Siege of Lion's Gate should have been ordinary high-ranking daemons; an entity of Ka'bandha's caliber should not have been among them.
Furthermore, "If Ka'bandha is here, doesn't that mean the Blood Angels currently back on Baal are in an even worse predicament..." Alexei's expression grew even gloomier.
"Looks like I need to banish you quickly; Baal is waiting for you over there..." Alexei muttered involuntarily.
The spiked whip in Ka'bandha's left hand lashed out, carrying immense, overwhelming force. "Spread out!" Alexei issued a warning in advance, and the surrounding Scythes of the Emperor marines scattered to both sides at top speed.
The whip struck fiercely where Alexei had been standing a moment prior, the terrifying force even fracturing the alloy-cast ramparts. Ka'bandha let out an angry roar, its massive physique curling up tight like a loaded spring.
The next instant, the Bloodthirster slammed violently into the high wall nearby, triggering tremors akin to an earthquake. Fissures began to spread across the wall under the impact. "Evacuate this section of the wall immediately!" Tochira ordered without a moment's hesitation.
Before his voice had even faded, the next impact struck. The immense force caused the ramparts to shake violently, and the Space Marines and mortal auxiliary troops began retreating toward the base of the wall.
Tochira glanced back at Governor Al, who was still standing motionless in place, and shouted, "Are you not coming?!"
Alexei turned back with a smile. "Don't worry about me. You guys head down first."
Seeing this, Tochira did not press further. He knew better than anyone just how powerful this seemingly ordinary mortal before him truly was, and he trusted more than anyone that this man could resolve the disaster unfolding here.
"Roar!" Letting out one final, feral bellow, Ka'bandha slammed brutally into the crumbling wall. Amidst a violent crash, the rampart collapsed entirely, exposing a massive breach to the demonic army. The defenders behind the rubble had already braced themselves for battle.
Amidst the Bloodthirster's triumphant roar, the daemons swarmed eagerly toward the human lines.
Ka'bandha exhaled a heavy gust of scorching air, and just as it prepared to take a step forward, it suddenly sensed something. From the ruins left by the collapsed wall, a tiny figure slowly stood up.
The Bloodthirster looked down with utter disdain at the mortal below. "Insects!" It roared suddenly, its whip cracking with a sonic boom as it lashed directly toward the figure in the ruins.
Yet that figure suddenly vanished—disappearing from its field of view without the slightest warning. Immediately afterward, a sharp pain flared from its ankle. Ka'bandha swept its massive greataxe in a wide arc around itself, sensing that it had struck something.
A figure landed steadily in mid-air a short distance away: it was that damned mortal. A wave of profound humiliation surged in Ka'bandha's heart; it had actually been struck by a mortal. An earth-shattering roar erupted instantly, causing even the surrounding daemonic hordes of Khorne to skirt around this particular battlefield.
Upon the pile of rubble, Alexei raised his power sword—crackling with arcs of electricity—with a deadpan expression, pointing it squarely at the furious Greater Daemon. Beneath the high wall, the duel began.
Tochira parried a bloodletter lunging at him with a roaring chainsword, exerting fierce strength to shove the crimson blade aside before the rolling monomolecular teeth instantly sheared through the daemon's skull.
As a Chapter Master, Tochira's combat prowess fell short of legendary Imperial Champions, yet he was far from someone an ordinary bloodletter could handle.
He turned to support a nearby battle-brother, his peripheral vision sweeping across the high-wall ruins outside. There, Ka'bandha's deafening roars reverberated through the air, accompanied by the clash of giant axes and blades ringing loud enough to shatter a mortal's eardrums.
The governor from Aiur was engaging the Bloodthirster at an incredible speed. Bolstered by formidable physical attributes compounded by the Time Xet'naga's acceleration, his movements had been pushed to an extreme limit that even Ka'bandha struggled to track.
Alexei knew that relying solely on brute force against his present adversary would leave him at a disadvantage, so he leveraged his peerless speed to continuously bleed the Greater Daemon.
"Fly!" A battered Ka'bandha roared impotently, utterly unable to touch its tormentor while accumulating more and more wounds. Seeing this, it bellowed and launched its massive wings, rocketing upward into the clouds.
Alexei leaned on his sword as he gazed skyward. The next moment, a meteor wreathed in roaring flames slammed fiercely down toward him.
When Ka'bandha impacted the ground, the violent tremor rippled across the surrounding tens of miles of battlefield, the sheer destructive force instantly clearing out the demonic horde in the immediate vicinity.
Yet Alexei had already retreated to safety. Surveying the massive crater nearby, where the terrain had been melted into bubbling magma by the terrifying heat, he could not help but remark, "Truly living up to the reputation of one of Khorne's premier Greater Daemons."
Immediately afterward, Alexei lowered his power sword, watching the massive physique slowly clamber out of the searing slag. While he could not permanently deal with this terrifying Greater Daemon on his own just yet, he had found a matching opponent for the brute.
"Too bad. Game over."
Under the Chapter Master's command, the Scythes of the Emperor continued to hold out against the overwhelming demonic tide, while the mortal auxiliary troops who had retreated from the high walls were slaughtered amidst wails of agony.
Gritting his teeth, Tochira parried a coordinated assault by several daemons. The enemy numbers were simply too high and continuously multiplying; the line was on the verge of breaking.
Even though the Black Templars under Amariitch's leadership had arrived nearby to reinforce them, the foe's numerical advantage remained insurmountable.
Tochira knew the Emperor's personal guard had also joined the fray, but this conflict spanned too vast an area, and their sector was far from the most critical. Those golden warriors fought on the most dangerous frontlines, lacking the bandwidth to spare reinforcements here.
Taking a blow directly on his armor to clear his immediate opponent, Tochira gasped for breath as he looked ahead. The next wave of daemons was charging forward once more, shaking the earth beneath them.
The bloodcrushers, mounted upon heavy-armored brazen beasts, surged toward them with unstoppable momentum. The Space Marines, devoid of heavy vehicle support, seemed destined to face a grim fate.
Yet the instant those cavalry-riding fiends broke into the battlefield, hundreds of pillars of light piercing straight into the clouds materialized before them.
Tochira stared at the pillars without a shred of surprise; he knew that man would never sit idly by while the battle faltered.
However, the warriors emerging in his field of vision this time looked completely different from the golden warriors of previous deployments. They appeared to be constructed entirely of metal, standing even taller than the golden guardians.
Orange-yellow psionic energy surged continuously across their heavy plating. As the pillars of light gradually dissipated, their optical sensors flared with cold illumination, and psionic blades snapped instantly into place upon their arms.
"Protocol calibration complete."
"Warriors awakened."
"Purify all!"
These alien warriors shouted in a language Tochira had never heard before, then plunged into Khorne's demonic host at a speed he could barely follow.
The slaughter resumed—only this time, it was the towering alien warriors carving through Khorne's daemons. The psionic blades on their arms sliced effortlessly through any matter in the material universe.
Meanwhile, the attacks of the daemons were entirely blocked by their kinetic shields. Even when several daemons expended every ounce of strength to bring down a single alien warrior, that warrior regenerated back to peak condition on the spot, turning to cut down the surrounding fiends.
The daemons were being harvested under rules dictated by their opponents. Listening to the combat erupting behind him, the corners of Alexei's mouth ticked upward slightly: Didn't you want a melee brawl? Feast your eyes.
These were products of the "Purifier Protocol" forged by the Protoss during their Golden Age—mechanical warriors whose minds were digitized copies of their greatest templars.
Void of fear or physiological emotion, they served as absolute instruments of slaughter designed solely to eradicate any threat to the Protoss.
Summoned here by Alexei, they were ready to teach Khorne's daemons the true meaning of honor.
Meanwhile, in the distance, Ka'bandha continued to roar furiously, searching for Alexei's tracks. "Come out, insect! Face me!"
Hearing the bellow, Alexei turned his head. "Face you? As you wish."
Guided by the manipulation of internal energies, the soul of the Lord of Change, Kaulos, shrieked endlessly as an unknown power ravenously consumed it.
"No—!" Amidst terrified shrieks, the entity formerly known as the Changeaster completely disintegrated. In exchange, a massive column of light slammed down directly behind Ka'bandha.
Ka'bandha whipped around. As the light faded, a metallic combat walker matching its own bulk materialized nearby.
It appeared to be a quadrupedal chassis armed with terrifying purification blades. The defensive rating of its thick adamantium armor surpassed even Protoss warships, granting it the capacity to shrug off virtually any assault while defense shields flickered around its frame.
"Protocol download in progress... Protocol calibration complete!"
The walker's optics flared to life, pulsing with intense orange light.
"You! Are scheduled for purification!"
Alexei gazed at the breathtaking Protoss mechanical creation. Encapsulated within it was the mind of a Protoss hero named Fenix, whose prowess in life was terrifying enough to carve a bloody path through entire swarms of zerg until his psionic arm-blades failed him.
Rebuilt as a Purifier, his combat capabilities had doubled over his biological prime.
"Hope you can give it a good show, Ka'bandha." Alexei watched the impending clash unfold, eager to see whether a top-tier Protoss warrior could match one of Khorne's premier Greater Daemons.
In the distance, Ka'bandha unleashed another terrifying roar as legions of Khorne daemons surged toward the towering silhouette ahead.
Khorne's demonic host surged like a red ocean toward the motionless quadrupedal walker in the distance, howling with excitement. Ka'bandha pressed forward with heavy, rhythmic strides, its towering, muscle-bound demonic frame radiating intense, searing heat.
Fenix's orange optical sensors locked onto the Greater Daemon instantly, energy surging across its adamantium-forged body.
As the first bloodletter closed the distance and leaped high into the air, a purification blade sliced horizontally like a flash of lightning. The daemon's torso split in two mid-air; before its burning remains even hit the ground, a second arc of blade-light cleaved three more twisted bodies apart.
The Protoss hero wasted no time, his frame erupting with staggering strength an instant later. The silver-grey chassis barreled toward Ka'bandha with unstoppable momentum, obliterating any daemon that attempted to block its path into a cloud of blood mist with the mere graze of its passing.
Seeing this, Ka'bandha let out a ferocious, guttural growl, gathering its strength to launch forward like a red meteor. The two terrestrial meteors collided head-on.
The moment they impacted, a terrifying shockwave and wave of air swept across the surrounding battlefield visibly, causing the ground to roll and fracture like waves on an ocean.
The Khorne daemons caught in close proximity were pulverized into dust before they could even scream. To Ka'bandha's shock and fury, it was sent flying backward several meters, blood beginning to drip from its axe-wielding right hand, while its adversary had merely retreated half a step.
For the first time, the Greater Daemon found itself outmatched in raw physical strength, and its axe strike had left zero marks on the machine's hull.
Ka'bandha scrambled back to its feet, but the silver-grey mech was already hurtling toward it once more, the razor-sharp Purifier blades sweeping for its throat at speeds defying the human eye.
The Greater Daemon beat its wings violently, kicking up an endless storm of dust and sand as it launched itself airborne. Without a moment's hesitation, it sought to exploit the devastating kinetic energy of a high-altitude dive to crush the cursed machine below.
It climbed higher and higher until it reached the Kármán line at Terra's upper atmosphere, where the entirety of the Imperial Palace sprawled out below. Without pausing, the Greater Daemon plunged straight back down.
Amidst billowing, heavy clouds, a dazzling meteor began its descent. The shockwave generated by its massive kinetic velocity cleared away all surrounding vapor, and Ka'bandha's enraged, berserk roars echoed alongside the supersonic screech, reaching the ears of nearly every human on the battlefield below.
Countless mortals stopped, staring up in absolute terror, while even the golden guardians glanced up toward the catastrophic warp menace in the skies above.
Guilliman stood tall upon the frontline rampart holding the flaming Emperor's Sword, his gaze grave as he watched the descending entity. The Primarch could not tell what the Greater Daemon's exact target was, but an assault of this magnitude demanded caution even from a demigod.
Standing amid the fractured terrain, Fenix raised his head, fixing his optical sensors entirely upon the crimson meteorite. Orange lights flickered steadily as he completed a rapid tactical assessment: evasion was unnecessary.
He raised his left arm, his four limbs locking firmly into the ground as personal shields flared to life. He would take the brunt of this impact head-on and use the opportunity to slay his foe.
Observing Fenix's choice, Alexei placed his trust in the Protoss hero. Knowing the capabilities required to withstand ship-grade artillery fire, he had no doubt the warrior would emerge unscathed.
High above, the crimson meteorite accelerated further. Ka'bandha raised its great axe, glaring angrily at the defensive stance of the silver-grey quadrupedal walker below. You dare not dodge? Then turn to ash in my wrath!
The instant before impact, raw psionic energy surged through Fenix's frame, and a synthesized battle cry echoed across the sector: "For Aiur!"
The moment the two forces collided, the ground across the entire battlefield fractured like fragile glass. A ring-shaped shockwave expanded outward, blowing away the ruined high-wall segments within a kilometer radius and scattering even the mortal Astra Militarum stationed on distant, intact ramparts.
Alexei's cloak whipped violently in the gale. Keeping a steady gaze on the blistering white epicenter of the impact, he sensed Fenix's vital telemetry holding firm within his mind. It is over... the Governor of Aiur murmured quietly.
Amariitch and Tochira drove their weapons deep into the ground to anchor themselves against the fierce concussive wave. Behind their crimson optics lay sheer, unadulterated disbelief; neither believed any entity could survive such a catastrophic collision. Yet the outcome defied all expectation.
The instant Ka'bandha's greataxe met the energy barrier, blinding white light erupted. The blade began to melt under the searing heat of the high-density energy shield.
The Greater Daemon roared in madness as the barrier finally shattered, driving its massive axe deep into Fenix's left shoulder. The tremendous kinetic force carried the limb inward, cleaving right into the chassis.
Yet the very next instant, Ka'bandha registered with horror that its descent had been completely arrested. Even though the walker's four legs had sunk deep into the bedrock and the surrounding earth had pulverized and torn away, the machine remained unmoving, its left shoulder locking the greataxe firmly in place.
"To inflict damage upon me—you have done well." Fenix's orange optics locked onto Ka'bandha's face. Without a microsecond of hesitation, his frame dissolved into a lethal storm, the purification blade on his right arm swinging with staggering velocity to carve through the Greater Daemon's neck amidst a final roar of bitter defiance.
As the dust settled and the smoke at the center of the impact cleared, the Black Templars and Scythes of the Emperor marines silently turned their attention to the unyielding silver-grey mech standing tall at the heart of the crater.
Opposite it, the headless corpse of the Khorne Greater Daemon collapsed heavily, dissolving into endless plumes of dust that drifted away on the wind. Across the surrounding theater, every surviving soldier fell into a profound, stunned silence.
Tochira stared at the silhouette, his mind reeling. He struggled to fathom what manner of foe could ever best such a machine, given that an attack of apocalyptic proportions had only managed to scratch its paint.
At that moment, only the towering alien warriors continued their relentless slaughter of the daemons, the density of the white transport pillars multiplying with every slain fiend.
Watching Fenix's form, Alexei leaped down from the high wall with an excited grin on his face. This was the exact performance expected of a true Protoss hero. The battle for this sector of the wall had reached its conclusion; what followed was merely clearing the field.
"Advance. On to the next Greater Daemon. Slaughter them all, and let these blasphemous fiends learn the true might of the Firstborn of the Gods."
Guilliman had already leaped down from the ramparts. By this point, the battle before the Lion's Gate had reached a fever pitch, with countless daemon engines trading fire with Knight armors while the Mechanicus's god-machines besieged a pair of Greater Daemons.
The Custodes, operating in tandem with the Sisters of Silence, were carving a bloody path through Khorne's hosts, their sights set on a roaring Greater Daemon not far away.
Meanwhile, the Grey Knights, led by their Grand Master, had barely succeeded in banishing another Greater Daemon.
The Primarch charged into the fray amid the fanatical gazes of the gathered throngs. The war cry echoing behind him shook the heavens, exhilarating everyone with the demigod's arrival and causing even the demonic advance to stutter momentarily.
Guilliman swung the Emperor's Sword in a continuous arc, the Imperium's demigod butchering the demonic host as effortlessly as daemons slaughtered mortals. No warp-spawned abomination dared stand before the enraged Primarch.
Any daemon touched by the eternally burning flames along his blade was instantly reduced to ash; the direct will of the Emperor Himself ensured that these fiends perished beyond recovery.
Behind him, a massive retinue of Honour Guard closely trailed their father, struggling to keep pace with the gene-primarch as he plunged into the thick of the daemonic hordes to cut down any fiend attempting a blind-side assault.
Bloodletters were chopped to pieces amidst agonizing shrieks, and daemon engines were smashed to flinders. Under this onslaught of near-genocidal scale, a multitude of Khorne's daemons opted to turn and flee.
For the first time, Khorne's daemons experienced the sensation of fear, desperately attempting to put distance between themselves and the Primarch. Yet from the blood-mist behind them, a war cry laden with carnage and terror abruptly erupted.
A Greater Daemon stepped out from the crimson fog with heavy strides, its furious eyes locking onto the advancing gene-primarch.
With a frenzied roar, it struck down the fleeing daemons blocking its path first, their souls likewise annihilated. Khorne had no use for cowards turning their backs on the foe.
Guilliman slowly raised his gaze to meet the Greater Daemon, his own eyes burning with wrath as the flames upon the Emperor's Sword flared higher still.
Without a word, without a war cry, Guilliman's massive frame transformed into a streak of blue lightning as he surged toward the beast.
The nameless Greater Daemon sought to raise its greatsword to parry the Primarch's onslaught, but Guilliman unleashed every ounce of pent-up fury dwelling within his chest, driving the Emperor's Sword forward with terrifying speed.
The metallic screech of clashing blades rang deafeningly. Within moments, the Greater Daemon was driven onto the defensive under the Primarch's relentless assault, until a final, jarring impact sent its greatsword flying from its grasp.
Guilliman drove his blade straight through the chest of the monster before him, his movement fluid as he rounded behind the daemon and clamped his arms securely around its neck.
The sheer, staggering strength lifted the daemon's feet entirely off the ground. Amidst Guilliman's final roar of fury, the neck of the nameless Greater Daemon snapped.
The Primarch casually discarded the lifeless carcass, the flames of the Emperor's Sword consuming its form.
Without pausing, Guilliman retrieved his weapon. The slaughter recommenced, and under the Primarch's leadership, the human lines began to push back.
Just as the tide seemed to turn, another chilling roar ripped through the bloody mist. Guilliman halted his advance, his expression grave; that familiar bellow conjured a deeply unwelcome memory.
Heavy footsteps drew closer from within the roiling red fog, accompanied by the muffled screams of human victims. The daemons surrounding this sector of the battlefield retreated back into the mist, while every mortal froze, staring fixedly into the depths of the fog.
As the heavy footsteps grew nearer, an instinctive wave of dread gripped the hearts of the Astra Militarum soldiers. The veterans' legs trembled, their teeth chattered uncontrollably, and a voice inside their heads screamed at them to run.
The terror only began to recede when Guilliman stepped to the forefront of the mist to shield them.
Finally, the monstrous silhouette revealed itself to the Primarch, displaying the twisted, colossal frame of the Daemon Primarch Angron.
Yet at that moment, the attention of everyone on the battlefield was riveted to the trophy clutched in his hand. Disbelief paralyzed their faces: it was the head of the Living Saint, Celestine, frozen in an expression of unyielding defiance.
Her blade remained buried deep within Angron's left shoulder, dark blood leaking continuously from the wound—a final, fatal strike delivered before the Living Saint met her end.
Angron hurled the severed head toward a grim-faced Guilliman, raised his giant axe in his right hand, and unleashed a roar that shook the firmament.
Corrupted entirely by the Butcher's Nails, he retained no emotion save for an all-consuming hatred for the Imperium and the False Emperor, fueled by a wrath that would never be quenched.
Guilliman drew a deep breath and raised his own blade. He had no words for the grotesquely warped brother standing before him; even before the Heresy, he had always despised this frenzied wretch.
"Angron..." Guilliman's voice rumbled like thunder. The Emperor's Sword ignited with an unprecedented, searing white flame, distorting the air around its edge with blistering heat.
An instant later, the two demigods charged toward one another, their silhouettes blurring together as swords and axes clashed, filling the air with ear-splitting shockwaves.
Guilliman's Honour Guard surged forward without hesitation to aid their father. In their eyes, fighting the Archenemy allowed for no notions of fair duels—they would employ any means necessary to banish the daemon.
Angron paid the tiny mortals no mind, cutting down several Ultramarines mere moments into his exchange with Guilliman.
"Fall back!" Guilliman bellowed. This was no conflict for his sons; he refused to let them suffer any further casualties.
Obeying their father's command, the Honour Guard retreated to safety. Behind them, daemons spilled forth from the fog once more, and their own war resumed.
Blessed anew by Khorne, Angron towered even taller than Guilliman, casting a massive shadow over the Primarch as wave after wave of terrifying brute strength hammered down through the Emperor's Sword.
Guilliman gritted his teeth, holding his ground with absolute resolve as he searched for any opening. Yet the frenzied berserker afforded him no quarter, battering the Primarch with unrelenting strikes.
Clang! With another deafening crash, the Emperor's Sword was knocked wide of its defensive guard under the full force of the daemon axe. Unleashing a thunderous roar, Angron smashed his right fist directly into the Primarch's face.
Guilliman was sent hurtling backward, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. As the Daemon Primarch slowly advanced upon him in triumph, Ultramarines rushed forward to throw themselves between their father and the monster.
Blue-clad warriors fell one by one under the axe, threatening to repeat a tragedy from ten thousand years ago. At the very edge of disaster, a shrill sonic boom tore through the air. Angron snapped his head around, only to be slammed violently aside by a massive impact a split second later.
As Guilliman focused his gaze on the newcomer, a towering, silver-grey quadrupedal walker stood before him, and a familiar voice sounded in his ear:
"Looks like I'm not late."
Guilliman rose in silence, turning to look at the Governor of Aiur who had arrived unannounced. Alexei merely offered a faint smile without offering further explanation.
In the distance, the sharp sounds of intense collisions echoed across the field. Pointing toward Fenix—who was locked in combat with Angron—Alexei spoke up: "That is an ally. Make sure the Space Marines and Custodes do not attack him; another wave of reinforcements is on the way shortly."
At these words, Guilliman cast a skeptical glance toward the quadrupedal walker fighting the Daemon Primarch to a standstill. Such grey metallic creations reminded him of the artifacts humanity once manufactured back during the Dark Age of Technology—Iron Men.
Those sentient relics of the Age of Strife were formidable in their own right, with a mere seven Eradicator-class units possessing the capacity to challenge a Primarch.
Yet the mechanical construct before him surpassed even those legendary Iron Men in Guilliman's eyes, appearing capable of exerting slight pressure on an ascended Angron.
Sensing the Primarch's lingering suspicion and flickering gaze, Alexei immediately added, "I have spoken at length with your father. Once the battle concludes, I will explain everything to you."
The Primarch fixed a silent, lingering stare upon the Aiur governor before nodding curtly a moment later. Without another word, he hefted his blade and plunged back into the fray against the Daemon Primarch, trusting that, for the present moment at least, this mysterious machine shared his immediate objectives.
Alexei raised an eyebrow as Guilliman retreated into battle, wondering how the Primarch would react upon learning the true nature of the Protoss. Yet as moral paragons within a sci-fi setting, the Protoss proved far preferable to the fractured, unhinged ensemble populating this era.
---
Chaos swept across the wider theater as fresh waves of Khorne daemons spilled endlessly from the red mists, reinforced by two remaining nameless Greater Daemons that elevated the pressure on the defenders once more.
Shield-Captain Trajann Valoris thrust his guardian spear outward in close coordination with his accompanying Custodian shield-guard, bearing down upon a towering Khorne Greater Daemon.
The speed and agility of the Golden Warriors far outstripped standard Space Marines.
Their synchronization of halberd and sword-shield was absolute, yet even so, combating the Greater Daemon strained their stamina to its limits; Valoris had to pour every ounce of his skill into barely holding the monster at bay.
Then, two more despair-inducing roars ripped through the nearby sector, dropping the hearts of the Custodes and Valoris alike.
Not far away, the final two high-ranking Greater Daemons were smashing through the defensive perimeters held by Space Marines and Grey Knights, driving their surging hordes toward a convergent point from opposing flanks.
The Imperium's warriors fought desperately to intercept them; once those daemonic formations united, the tactical situation would rapidly deteriorate beyond redemption.
A sacred Contemptor Dreadnought stood planted in the path of the advancing Greater Daemon, surrounded by the shattered, mangled remains of both Space Marines and daemons while distant daemon engines rumbled ominously. In that moment, the veteran Custodian relic stood like the sole surviving warrior under the heavens.
The Greater Daemon exhaled clouds of rust-scented air, advancing with heavy, deliberate footsteps toward the Dreadnought blocking its route. Amidst its furious bray, the Dreadnought's power fist and the daemon's massive sword collided with a concussive shock.
What appeared evenly matched on the surface was actually the desperate, dying resistance of an elite Imperial veteran, while the second Greater Daemon had already broken the Space Marine blockade and was closing in fast. With Valoris's shield-guard companions falling wounded one by one behind him, the line trembled on the brink of collapse.
With Guilliman too deeply engaged to spare support, and defenders prepared to trade their lives to preserve the Emperor's honor, a piercing shriek echoed across the side horizon of the battlefield.
The Golden Warriors swept their peripheral vision toward the flank: a mass of towering mechanical warriors was slamming directly into the flank of the daemonic army.
The ground speed of those mechanical infantry defied all human comprehension, crossing several kilometers almost instantaneously. Any daemon caught dead-center was pulverized into pulp and dissolved into nothingness.
Before Valoris could fully process the development, those strange combatants had surged from the distant horizon right into their midst. The Custodes watched as bodies forged of unknown alloys swung glowing energy blades, slicing through the surrounding daemons as easily as carving vegetables.
This was a legion born exclusively for melee combat. The next instant, Valoris received direct clearance indicators from Guilliman himself, prompting the Captain-General to immediately redirect the Custodes to coordinate with the incoming mech units, plunging the Greater Daemons back into a suffocating encirclement.
The three high-ranking Greater Daemons smashed repeatedly at the mechanical warriors, yet every time one of the alien constructs was torn apart, it reassembled and rose again as if death were a temporary inconvenience.
When the head of the final Greater Daemon was cleanly severed by the mechanical infantry, Valoris stood his ground, eyeing the mysterious reinforcements with guarded caution as their orange optical sensors flared and they pivoted toward the adjacent theater.
---
At the center of the battlefield, Fenix and Angron engaged in an uncompromising exchange where neither prioritized defense. The Daemon Primarch's massive axe rained relentless blows upon the Protoss hero's chassis; even when breaching the kinetic shields, however, it achieved little more.
While the frenzied strikes left only superficial scoring while reflecting raw kinetic energy back at the attacker, Fenix's purification blades accelerated into a blur, carving deep, bone-fracturing gashes across Angron's physique with every pass.
Witnessing this, the Daemon Primarch surrendered further to madness. Spurred by the relentless torment of the Butcher's Nails, his attacks grew suicidal in fury, prompting Guilliman to rejoin the fray directly.
The blazing flames of the Emperor's Sword inflicted agonizing torment upon Angron unmatched by any other weapon, forcing the monster to instantly shift targets and savage Guilliman with manic disregard for his own safety.
The crushing force of Angron's blows overwhelmed Guilliman's parries once more, but Fenix refused to remain idle. A rapid tactical charge slammed into the side of the Daemon Primarch, throwing him violently off balance.
Without hesitation, Guilliman drove the Emperor's Sword deep into Angron's chest, the searing white flames eliciting a shrieking howl of agony from the beast.
Gripping the hilt with both hands, Guilliman unleashed a final battle roar as he heaved upward, cleaving the Daemon Primarch cleanly in two from chest to crown. Angron's screams cut off mid-air. As Guilliman stepped forward to deliver the final execution upon his fallen brother, a sudden shift occurred.
The distant red mists surged forward with unnatural velocity, signaling an imminent intervention by Khorne. Roaring with fury, Guilliman shouted, "Begone!" and accelerated his downward slash toward the kneeling Angron.
Suddenly, Angron's eyes flared with crimson malice, and his greataxe erupted with terrifying, world-breaking momentum as he swung upward at Guilliman—a cataclysmic strike meant to obliterate everything standing before it.
The earth shattered beneath the shockwave, and a crimson crescent blade-wave surged toward the Primarch. Fenix immediately threw himself between the attack and Guilliman; yet, the hyper-dense armor built to withstand ship-grade naval artillery split apart under the force, cleaving one-third of the machine into shrapnel.
Fenix collapsed heavily onto the earth, his orange optics flickering weakly.
In Guilliman's perception, time slowed to a crawl. He tasted the metallic tang of death, knowing evasion was impossible. At the brink of annihilation, a flash of golden light pierced his mind, and an ineffable presence surged from within him.
"He is my son."
In a fraction of a second, the universe fell silent. The greataxe and its accompanying energy wave dissolved into nothingness under a beam of cold, absolute light. The scarlet mists across the entire theater vanished instantly, reducing countless daemons to ash while Angron's physical form was forcibly dragged away and consumed by the warp's terminal energies.
Moments later, standing amidst the aftermath, Guilliman fell into a profound daze. That voice just then... was it his father? Had the Emperor Himself intervened to save his life? Lowering his blade in heavy silence, he turned his gaze slowly toward the distant Imperial Palace.
"Father... have you truly ascended to godhood...?"
Amidst Guilliman's bewilderment, he noticed the mechanical warrior that had just attempted to shield him from the blow. As the Primarch stepped forward intending to speak, the entity dissolved into a flash of white light and vanished from his sight.
A deeper wave of confusion washed over him. Not long after, as the demonic tide was suppressed, those towering mechanical combat units likewise vanished before everyone's eyes, each disappearing within a column of white light.
Alexei remained silent. Having just witnessed the scarlet blade-wave and the cold, golden radiance, he realized, The powers of the five gods... It seems I still cannot touch them at this stage.
Having witnessed the raw power unleashed through Khorne's possession, Alexei burned with an intense desire for strength. C'tan shards—he needed a multitude of C'tan shards. The known fragments included the Void Dragon shard concealed deep within Mars.
Following that was the burning shard unleashed upon Baal; visiting Baal was an absolute necessity.
While the Void Dragon fragment appeared physically closest, his current presence on Terra was merely a void projection; the physical body itself was required to absorb it. Tch, what a hassle, Alexei sighed helplessly. It appeared he would have to make a trip to Baal first before returning to Terra.
The Battle of the Lion's Gate drew near its conclusion as the eight invading Greater Daemons were banished one by one through the coordinated efforts of all factions, with even the Daemon Primarch Angron retreating under the blinding radiance of the Emperor.
Guilliman calmly directed the final mop-up operations. The surviving Custodes and Space Marines engaged in closing skirmishes; this conflict had inflicted catastrophic casualties upon them, with the Custodes suffering nearly seventy percent losses.
The Astra Militarum and the frontline Space Marine chapters fared no better, with certain chapters seeing their active rosters reduced to a handful of survivors while entire mortal Astra Militarum regiments were wiped out entirely.
Yet another grueling defensive engagement for Terra weighed heavily on Guilliman's mind. Gazing toward the distant shadows of the hive spires, he knew the war was far from over, and the trade lanes of the Sol System remained locked under blockade.
After a brief respite, he would have to lead the fleet to break the blockade of the solar routes. Before that—the Primarch shifted his gaze toward the Aiur governor standing nearby, who was observing the staggering efficiency with which the Emperor's Custodes operated.
Noticing Guilliman's gaze, Alexei turned to face him. Realizing the Primarch sought an audience, Alexei walked over.
Observing the Aiur governor standing beside him, Guilliman remained silent for a moment before asking, "So, whence came those warriors? Which faction do they represent, and why aid humanity?"
Faced with the trio of rapid-fire questions, Alexei chuckled softly. "A rational, trustworthy ally."
Looking toward the expressionless Imperial Regent, Alexei continued, "Just as the Imperium allied with the Ynnari, I trust you would not object to humanity gaining another ally under our current circumstances."
"How am I to trust them?" Guilliman scrutinized the Aiur governor. "How can we ensure they will not betray us—?"
As if you can guarantee the Aeldari won't betray humanity, Alexei muttered inwardly. Regardless of their flaws, the Protoss proved far superior to the Aeldari, who were unhinged lunatics obsessing endlessly over fate and prophecies.
After all, while one side might backstab you at any moment for the sake of so-called destiny, the other remained the firmest of allies once your mutual recognition was established—at least among the Daelaam and Nerazim, and the Protoss remained safely under his control.
Naturally, Alexei kept such secrets to himself, replying coolly instead: "The warrior who was just willing to lay down his life to shield you—does that not prove something?"
Guilliman fell silent for a beat before responding, "A warrior? I thought they were autonomous machines."
"You could view them that way, but in life, they were the greatest champions of their race; in death, their consciousnesses are downloaded into these steel vessels to continue the fight," Alexei explained.
Come to think of it, certain aspects of the Protoss strongly mirrored the Space Marines—such as interring mortally wounded veterans within iron sarcophagi to keep fighting, though the practice was far more pervasive among the Protoss.
Turning his gaze away from Alexei, Guilliman watched the distant artillery thunder across the horizon. "Where did they come from, and why did they vanish so abruptly?"
Alexei shrugged. "They have their own wars to fight—swarms of cruel, terrifying Xion, powerful foes from the void... At the very least, they detest Chaos."
The Aiur governor offered Guilliman no further opportunity for inquiry, cutting off the Regent with a final statement: "The Emperor knows of all this. He has given His tacit consent."
Alexei was not lying; after all, since the Emperor claimed He had been watching him for a decade, He undoubtedly knew about his capacity to summon Protoss and zerg swarm armies. Given His failure to intervene or obstruct him, the Emperor effectively consented to it all.
True to expectation, upon learning that the Emperor shared awareness of these events, Guilliman fell quiet. Recalling the cold, luminous flash that had flickered across his mind moments ago, he wondered if his father truly had ascended to an unfathomable, divine entity.
In that instant, Guilliman felt his foundational certainty regarding the Ecclesiarchy's existence waver. Perhaps he ought to examine the Lectitio Divinitatus authored by the very brother he had once personally struck down.
Observing the silent Primarch, Alexei remained indifferent to his internal musings. He pressed on: "The Emperor also promised to grant me an item."
"What item?" Guilliman inquired.
"A C'tan shard." Alexei wondered if the Primarch knew that a powerful C'tan shard was sealed deep within Mars, given that the artifact had been quarantined by the Emperor alone.
"A C'tan shard?" A flicker of confusion crossed Guilliman's face.
Just as I thought, Alexei noted mentally. "On Mars," he added immediately to secure the asset, "though I may not retrieve it immediately, I will certainly claim it eventually."
Quite apart from his void projection being unable to absorb it directly, that particular Void Dragon fragment was likely the largest he knew of; moving on it rashly could spell his doom.
Nodding slowly, Guilliman said, "I understand."
Silence settled between them once more as the distant fighting drew to a close, the routed daemons proving entirely helpless against the clearing sweeps of Imperial forces.
Preparing to depart, Guilliman turned away to handle the myriad pressing duties awaiting him.
Before stepping off, Alexei delivered a parting remark: "Watch out for the vermin within the Imperium."
"I know," the Primarch replied coldly. He understood precisely whom the Aiur governor referenced, though his pragmatism dictated that absolute trust could be extended to no one—including the "human" standing behind him who had secured a direct audience with his father.