"For humanity! For the Emperor!"
A captain—half-man, half-machine thanks to the Adeptus Mechanicus—roared hysterically.
His cybernetic arm slammed onto the control console as he glared, red-eyed, at the power chief and the Tech-Priest in charge of the reactor.
"Divert all power to the engines! Even if we die, we're taking them with us!"
The warship was already doomed.
The void shield reactor had overloaded; multiple internal explosions had already rocked the hull—and just a few more hits would mean total annihilation.
After issuing his final command, the captain wore a fanatical grin and roared once more the oath he had sworn countless times:
"For humanity! For the Emperor! Full speed ahead!"
With that, the unshielded warship's engines flared to life. The ship accelerated toward a grotesque Chaos warship covered in writhing flesh, aiming to take their enemies down with them.
The universe, like fate itself, is cold and merciless.
Unfortunately, fate rewarded neither the captain nor his crew for their courage.
Lady Luck didn't glance their way—not even once.
The Chaos ship fired a blinding energy spear that pierced clean through the Imperial warship's hull.
The already strained plasma reactor was struck directly, triggering a massive explosion. Flames surged through the ship's corridors.
The colossal five-kilometer-long vessel was consumed in fire, torn apart in space.
Over ten thousand crew members perished. No survivors.
"For humanity... for the Emperor..."
The captain shouted one final, defiant oath as fire consumed him.
Yet on the grand scale of the galactic war, the destruction of one ship was almost meaningless.
Across the vast battlefield, thousands of warships clashed.
Lances of light, plasma beams, torpedoes the size of shipping containers, and high-yield nuclear missiles turned space into a deadly hellscape.
The war had reached its most desperate hour.
The Imperial fleet launched wave after wave of counterattacks, trying to retake control of Macragge's orbit, critical for sending reinforcements to the surface.
If they failed before the ground forces collapsed, it would mean total annihilation for mankind.
The End Times were here.
Even humanity—the most resilient of species—now stood at the brink of extinction.
….
Macragge's surface was already a warzone.
Its cities had been bombarded beyond recognition.
Orbit had been lost, artillery positions wiped out, and tank divisions completely destroyed.
Aircraft still struggled in the skies, fighting to keep demonic air units from claiming full air superiority.
Elite Space Marine Legions had been sent to defend the Sanctum.
Only the Macragge Guard remained, fighting with utter desperation to protect civilians and the remnants of their cities.
Civilians huddled behind the tattered defenses built by battered soldiers.
Every able-bodied man and woman had been conscripted into the fight.
Women and children waited in hopeless terror, praying the Emperor would save them—or at least carry their souls safely after death, so they wouldn't be tortured by daemons in the Warp and turned into horrors themselves.
….
Inside the Sanctum of the Ultramarines, the fiercest battle was raging.
The outcome here would decide not only the fate of the planet, but possibly the entire galaxy.
"Stop them," growled a Chaos Space Marine, clad in black armor reeking of blood.
With cruel eyes, he swung his now-rusted chainsword, slaughtering nearby Imperial Guardsmen with ease.
They were cut down like wheat by a sickle. Blood soaked the marble floors of the sanctum.
"For humanity! For the Emperor!"
The brutality didn't scare off the reinforcements. Fueled by that sacred oath, they charged in with lasguns blazing, determined to stop the heretics from defiling the holy ground.
The Chaos Marine didn't stop. His chainsword roared again, severed limbs flying around him. His face behind the helmet twisted in ecstasy.
"Blood for the Blood God!" he roared, lunging forward to slaughter more soldiers.
The loyalists knew their job: to buy time with their lives for the Emperor's plan to succeed.
The battle in the Sanctum was both brutal and hopeless.
The surviving Ultramarines, Black Templars, Deathwatch, and Sisters of Battle had all been pushed to their limits.
Saint Celestine had lost one arm and her once-pristine wings had been torn.
Her armor shattered, wounds bled sweet-scented blood. The other Sisters had been torn apart by plasma fire or shredded by daemons.
Celestine, bleeding from one eye, whispered prayers to the Emperor.
With her sacred blade still in hand, she stood her ground, unmoving.
"For the Emperor! For humanity!"
A burst of radiant golden light exploded from her.
Dozens of daemons were blown away by the Emperor's divine blessing.
But more came. More daemons. More traitor marines.
….
Amid the chaos, Chapter Master Marneus Calgar of the Ultramarines bellowed with fury.
His bright blue armor made him a prime target.
His bolter was empty. His power sword broken. Only his power fist remained.
BOOM!
A fellow Ultramarine beside him was disintegrated by a Chaos melta blast, his body parts charred and reeking.
"TRAITORS!!" Calgar roared like a lion, eyes bloodshot with rage.
Watching his comrades fall one by one, he lost control—charging in with his power fist, crushing a Chaos Marine to pulp.
Then he turned his gaze toward the Sanctum's altar.
Near the stasis chamber, Tech-Priest Belisarius Cawl and some... Xenos were still working on something.
"Is it... still not working?" Calgar thought, despair rising in his heart.
They had failed to revive the Primarch.
Was this the end?
Had their sacred mission failed?
….
Ten thousand years after the Emperor was entombed on the Golden Throne, the second Warmaster of Chaos, Abaddon, launched his 13th Black Crusade.
Using the Blackstone Fortress, he destroyed Cadia, humanity's main bastion against the Warp.
This shattered the barriers holding back the Eye of Terror, and Chaos spilled across the galaxy.
The Age of Decline had begun. A rift, the Cicatrix Maledictum, tore across the Milky Way.
Daemons surged through it in unending waves, bringing death and annihilation.
The nightmares of the Long Night had returned to all worlds.
There was no safe place. No refuge.
World after world fell. Billions died in torment. Humanity faced extinction.
Should they lose now, an eternal night would cover the stars.
A final apocalyptic war was upon them—good versus evil, Chaos versus Order.
It would rend the stars, destroy everything known and familiar.
Even psykers with the gift of foresight had lost all hope—there was no future left for mankind.
The galaxy was plunging into despair. Humanity would become playthings for the Chaos Gods.
….
The ground shook violently. Another explosion rocked the sanctum.
A second wave of Chaos drop pods slammed into the temple in balls of fire.
With a screech, the pods opened—hundreds of Chaos Space Marines poured out.
This was the enemy's trump card—an elite strike to crush the last line of defense.
Despair consumed the defenders.
"For humanity! For the Emperor!"
The remaining loyalists made one last charge, determined to take as many heretics as possible with them.
Darkness fell completely. The end of humanity was here.
….
Just as the final clash began...
GONG! — a resonant bell sounded.
A clear, pure musical tone echoed through the temple.
An ancient mechanical vault began to open like the petals of a mechanical flower.
From within emerged a tall, awe-inspiring figure.
After ten thousand years of slumber, humanity's last hope, the 13th Son of the Emperor, the Primarch of hope, loyalty, and virtue—Roboute Guilliman opened his eyes.
He looked around, confused and dazed.
Wasn't he just playing a game?
Why is he here now?!
Memories flooded his mind—and then…
WTF?!
WTF?!
WTF?!
How could this kind of thing actually happen?!
(End of Chapter)
....
[Translator's Note:- Just started this new Translation. This will have 5 Chapters per day]