Webway, Ilmarin
517.M32
Jaghatai Khan
He took a step full of excitement, although to an outsider it would appear indistinguishable from normal; he was heading towards the Inner Sanctum, which is arguably the most important place in the ancient fortress of the Old Ones.
The last three centuries had been some of the best moments of his life, and though a part of him longed to return to his sons as soon as possible, he knew that what he was a part of here and what they were doing was far more important.
For in this place, he was convinced, the fate of this grim and dark universe was and would be decided. Besides, the Empire seemed relatively stable for now, even despite the ever-growing power of the Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition.
He also felt, for the first time in a long time, and certainly since being stuck in the Webway, that what he was doing finally had a greater purpose. Even his conquests and campaigns during the Great Crusade seemed much less meaningful now.
Over the past decade alone, he had led the Krorks and the men his brother had rescued from Ichtar IX, piloting modified Eldar Knights, in over two hundred raids and operations against Drukhari bases and ships in whole Webway, with which the war was gaining momentum.
He also had to admit that fighting alongside such powerful warriors as the Krorks was a truly fascinating experience.
He was convinced they were more than a match for his father's Custodians, but where the Emperor's genetically modified guards fought mostly alone, the Orks' ancestors were as tactically capable as his own sons and certainly surpassed them in experience.
They were the best of the best, having survived the greatest war in the history of their galaxy. He wasn't even going to mention how effective their racial psychic abilities were on the battlefield.
Ilmarin itself was a fortress-city straight out of myth and legend, though a more accurate term would be 'fortress-planet', for it exceeded Terra itself in size, perhaps even four times over.
All this, moreover, was connected by a countless network of portals, whose operation he still didn't fully understand; he only knew that they tapped into the power of the Immaterium, without the risk of Chaos corruption. But what else could he expect from the creators of the Webway itself and the former gods of the Warp?
Emerging from the portal leading to the central part of the Fortress, he passed a large number of people, whose numbers had increased significantly since his arrival. Most had been born here, and a rest had been rescued from Drukhari captivity.
Mainly because of him, for Sanguinius had been fighting a different battle for over three centuries, a much more difficult and decidedly more risky one. Or at least, he had been fighting until now.
With the help of Blacktone Fortress, he and the Old Ones attempted to connect it to the second Shard of Mag'ladroth, something Jaghatai himself was not happy about, as he felt that his brother had been too hasty, although he understood his reasons. But indeed, the ritual, which was supposed to last a maximum of a decade or two, stretched out to three centuries.
He passed through another portal, but this one was accessible only to a select few. It led to the Inner Sanctum, where the Old Ones' artefacts, the Shards of C'tan, and two of the most important things were located: the Spear of Destiny and Sanguinius himself.
Entering the Inner Sanctum, he felt a steadily mounting pressure, for the amount of energy filling the chamber was terrifying, so much so that he couldn't compare it to anything else he had experienced during the Greater Crusade or since.
Thousands of C'tan shards, some no larger than his fingernail, were nonetheless fragments of divine beings. The spear floating in the centre, seemingly made of pure light, was an even more astonishing sight.
In the words of Mind herself, one of the Old Ones was the most powerful artefact and weapon in the galaxy, and likely beyond. Nothing like it had ever been created, and never would be. Considering it was meant to be the Old Ones' ultimate weapon against the Necrons and their masters, it was food for thought.
'But what true value is a weapon you can't use?' he thought, with a hint of bitter amusement. On the other hand, his brother aspired to be able to use the Spear. With it in hand, the body of the C'tans, and the Old Ones' knowledge of the Immaterium, he planned to launch an open challenge to the Ruinous Powers.
Sanguinius himself, now awake, lay on a specially prepared altar on the chamber's ceiling. So, Jaghatai leaped into the air, several metres up, and at one point, gravity reversed 180 degrees, and the former ceiling became the floor.
This was nothing new in Ilmarin, where countless similarly functioning chambers existed, with even each wall having its own gravity to better manage the space.
All three Old Ones hovered around the awakened Sanguinius, along with Varok and four ancient Aeldari, led by Orain.
Everyone greeted him with a nod, except for the old gods of the Warp, who sent telepathic greetings, something he himself had taken a while to get used to.
His brother himself seemed lost in thought, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say confused, as his absent gaze was fixed on space.
Jaghatai stopped at the altar and looked at Orain questioningly, hoping he would provide some information on Sanguinius's condition. However, Orain shook his head slightly. "He's been like this since his awakening. He's completely out of touch, but the process itself seems to have gone well."
The Primarch of the White Scars frowned, concerned. If anything happened to his brother, all was lost. Their entire plan, and essentially the Old Ones' plan, was based on the angelic Primarch and the fact that he shared some kind of bond with Mag'ladroth the Void Dragon himself.
Suddenly, something unsettling began to happen to Sanguinius. His body began to tremble slightly, and his previously absent golden eyes were filled with absolute blackness. Even the mere sight seemed risky to the Jaghatai, for they emanated an indescribable and terrifying power. Void.
Worse still, the shards of C'tan gathered in the chamber began to tremble, as if resonating with the Blood Angels Primarch himself. Then the entire chamber began to tremble, and the flow of energy to the Spear of Destiny, which was absorbing and holding the fragments of the Star Gods in check, seemed to destabilise.
Before the catastrophe, however, everything suddenly stopped. Sanguinius himself clutched his head and gritted his teeth, as if struggling against something.
After a moment, Sanguinius raised his head, and thankfully, his normal golden eyes met their gaze, though Khan felt as if his pupils were blacker than they should have been, unnatural. As if the light itself were lost in them.
"This is a failure," Sanguinius's hoarse voice filled the chamber. His tone was half full of anger and disappointment. "For now, we must try the method you mentioned, Mind."
Everyone turned to the Old One, awaiting an answer, and her voice echoed in their minds, but it sounded uncertain, as if she herself was unsure about the whole idea.
"Since your control over the Void is still too weak, as we've seen... then the only option at this point to save your sons, Sanguinius, is to bind their souls to your own."
"And what purpose would that serve?" Jaghatai interjected, not understanding how this would solve the problem of Black Rage and Red Thirst among the Blood Angels' successor orders.
"It will weaken the effects of these afflictions on them and also ensure that after death, their souls will not go with the others to the Emperor in the Immaterium but will instead be bound to Sanguinius." Mind replied, slowly, as if explaining to a child, something that would probably irritate most of his brothers, but not him.
He didn't forget that he was dealing with a being with a lifespan unimaginably longer than his own and commensurately knowledgeable.
"Do you wish to do as I suggest? If so, it will require appropriate preparations," Orain interjected, rubbing his sharp chin thoughtfully, though Jaghatai could see a rare glint of excitement in his ancient eyes.
Sanguinius glanced at him, then, perhaps guessing that the Primarch of the White Scars was slowly losing patience, explained in a steadier voice.
"Even in death, my sons can serve our cause. If they wish to rest, I will consume their souls, and they will become part of our future and vision. However, for those who still wish to fight, like the Aeldari, their souls will be fused with our Titans."
Jaghatai was completely taken aback. Of all things, he hadn't expected this at all. Yet his Primarch mind was already analysing just how brilliant this move truly was. His thoughts ran over the thousands of behemoths filling Ilmarin's hangars. The Aeldari, Krorks, and even the human-Eldar hybrids of giant machines in their possession were a virtually unstoppable force, but they lacked pilots.
The Krorks had their Leviathans, of course, but they couldn't leave the Webway, and the Eldar titans required psychic powers to control them, or a soul, which itself, after all, existed within the Immaterium.
Sanguinius suddenly leaped from the altar with a groan, his wings spreading to their full width. "It's time to act. I've been absent for too long," he said, and with that, his naked body was covered in golden armour.
"However, without more Shards of Mag'ladroth, I still cannot set foot on Baal without risking a Chaos Rift. So, for now, all I have left are dreams and visions."
"And once all the chapters have gathered on Baal, we will perform the ritual," added the Prophet, who had been silent until now. "Then it's time to make preparations."
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Segmentum Ultima, Baal System, Baal
517.M32
Eligos, Chapter Master of Blood Angels
Normally, most of his nights were filled with nightmares, but they didn't concern the numerous battlefields he fought on or the horrors he witnessed. No... that would be too easy, would it?
Like many of his brothers, he dreamed of the final moments of their father, the magnificent Sanguinius, whose shattered body lay beneath the feet of his own brother, now champion of the Chaos Gods.
As if controlling the Black Rage weren't difficult enough in itself, the sight of their dead father fuelled the fury burning within him immensely.
This seemed to be another such night. A short one, for Astartes didn't require much sleep, but still. He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep and the nightmares that followed.
But it didn't come, and instead, a golden light flooded him, radiating such warmth, such... tenderness? Or so he thought, for it was a feeling practically unknown to a Space Marine.
He soon had to shield his eyes, for the glare seemed unbearable. A moment later, however, the light faded, and his eyes widened with shock and disbelief alike.
A radiant figure, clad in golden armour, with beautiful features and flowing golden hair, descended from the heights toward him. Its eyes glowed with light, and two snow-white feathered wings sprouted from its back.
Eligos didn't know when, but he realised he had fallen to his knees, tears streaming from his eyes for the first time in over five hundred years, since his childhood and brutal training as an Astartes.
For though it hadn't yet dawned on him, he subconsciously knew who this heavenly being was.
"Father," he rasped, then felt a strong, comforting hand on his shoulder.
"My son. It's all right, I'm with you... You and your brothers have suffered enough."
He lifted his head and gazed into his father's beautiful face, at his warm smile, his golden irises filled with concern and love. He felt overwhelmed, not only by the sight of his father but also by feelings that were almost alien to him.
The Adeptus Astartes didn't need to be loved or cared for. Their duty was to die and serve the Emperor. Yet in that moment, he felt like a small child again, craving even a sliver of affection.
"Father. "How can this be?" he whispered. "This must be a dream... Yes, a dream."
"No, or at least not entirely," the Great Angel denied, shaking his head slightly. "I came to you in a dream, for then your mind was most open and ready for my arrival. I am real after all... My body was destroyed, but my soul survived."
"However, I cannot yet come to the Materia to guide you again. I can, however, weaken the curses that plague you. However, I will need your help for this."
Eligos felt as if he might burst with joy. His father, the greatest of the Emperor's sons, was alive. Hearing, moreover, that Sanguinius could cure them of the Black Rage and needed his help brought him back to earth.
"Tell me, Father. What must I do?" He cried, his voice full of fervour.
The Primarch of the IX Legion looked him in the eye and said decisively, "You must summon all my sons to Baal. Every chapter, without exception. The sooner the better. I will visit the other Chapter Masters as I have visited you, but I need you to officially summon all the Chapters here."
Eligos took his father's hand and kissed it reverently, then with complete devotion said, "It shall be done, Father."
Sanguinius smiled again, and the old Astartes' chest filled with warmth once more. "When all my sons are gathered, I will appear to them and stop the curses that afflict you."
Eligos suddenly realised he had awakened and was in his chamber. There was no trace of his father; all that remained was the warmth filling his chest and the traces of his already drying tears.
He immediately jumped from his bed. He had no time to waste. The will of the great Sanguinius had to be fulfilled as quickly as possible. He had to summon the others. It was time for all Blood Angels, regardless of Chapter, to once again answer the call of their Primarch.