In addition to the battles between Space Marines, the Astra Militarum also displayed their powerful combat capabilities at this moment.
These Astra Militarum troops, clad in power armour, had truly become the backbone, not retreating a single step in their engagements with demons.
The resolute Astra Militarum forces retaliated against the demons with the weapons in their hands.
Even when Khorne's Bloodletters charged the Astra Militarum ranks, Astra Militarum soldiers would still draw their power swords and sever the heads of their dog-like foes.
It must be said that Khorne, no matter which world's Khorne or which galaxy's Khorne, is fair. Whenever a soldier, relying on their own combat prowess, severed a Bloodletter's head and tossed it aside, Khorne would greatly praise them.
Red light from Khorne would always timely empower these enemies battling Chaos Guilliman, providing even stronger opponents for his demons.
The battle was incredibly fierce; ground combat was only a part of it, and the battle in space was even more terrifying.
In some ordinary star systems, both sides' forces had already begun destroying each other's star systems.
Heaven-Burning Divine Weapons were deployed. If the Chaos side destroyed a star system today, the human side would directly detonate a star system tomorrow, making the traitor pay a bloody price.
The battle between the two sides had evolved from initial confrontations along defensive lines to mutually deploying black technology, destroying each other's star systems, and annihilating all but the strategically crucial star systems.
This intensity of warfare far exceeded the Great Crusade era. After all, during the Great Crusade, the Emperor's main goal was to bring the entire galaxy under human control, not to mutually annihilate each other as they were now.
Just as Guilliman said when he rebelled, 'Let the galaxy burn!' The galaxy is burning now. The intensity of the war is no longer comparable to past battles; the current conflict is truly a War in Heaven.
When the battle continued into its fourth month, Zeke even proactively dispatched a brilliant-class battleship from The Great Wall region to fully commit to destroying the enemy.
It was when this war reached its sixth month that Zeke and the Emperor discovered something was amiss.
"Stop mutually destroying each other, Guilliman! We can't let the war continue like this!"
Zeke appeared before Guilliman, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
Hearing this, Guilliman, who was directing operations, looked up, somewhat puzzled.
"What do you mean, Uncle Zeke?"
Guilliman didn't understand why, when the battle was going so well, they suddenly had to stop and cease using black technology to destroy the enemy's star systems.
"Now, every star system we destroy makes you in this galaxy stronger. His divine title is Original Annihilator, Dark King Guilliman."
"Do you know what that means, Guilliman?
It means he is the End."
"Now we are mutually destroying each other across the galaxy, which greatly increases the power of the End. This is causing the power of that Original Annihilator Guilliman to gradually rise.
After six full months of war, he is now almost on par with the Chaos Gods."
"At least in my and your father's estimation, the Emperor of this galaxy is no longer his match at this point."
Guilliman was stunned by these words.
Guilliman's pupils suddenly contracted, and he immediately brought up the strategic star map.
Looking at the markers representing the battle zones, especially the star systems that had been completely destroyed or detonated, his face instantly became incredibly grim.
During this period of engagement, over 1100 star systems had been reduced to dust in the clashes between the two sides.
The terrifying intensity of the war was enough to show that the current conflict was no different from the War in Heaven.
During the human civil war, countless xenos civilizations were destroyed. Both Chaos Guilliman and Loyal Guilliman held almost constant attitudes towards xenos.
It could be said that when the big shots fight, the ants suffer.
Various xenos civilizations in this war fell under the firepower of both sides without even having the right to appear.
"I understand, Uncle Zeke. I will order the troops to stop mutually destroying each other's star systems and focus on intercepting enemy fleets to prevent them from destroying more star systems."
Correcting mistakes is a good quality, and Guilliman was perfectly capable of doing so.
If mutual destruction only made the opponent stronger, then they would no longer mutually destroy.
"It's excellent that you think that way. Continue to handle the fighting. I'm preparing to go to Terra with your father to meet The Emperor of this galaxy, to make your father's power even stronger."
"It's time for the two of them to merge."
After saying this, Zeke stood up and left.
His main purpose in coming to Guilliman was to make Guilliman stop mutually destroying star systems with the opponent. Now that Guilliman had agreed, there was naturally no need to stay.
After Zeke left Guilliman and arrived at the brilliant-class battleship's docking point, The Emperor had already been waiting there for a long time.
"You're here?"
"Then let's depart now. I can't wait to make myself more complete. This is the last piece of the puzzle."
The Emperor was overjoyed; no one could refuse the temptation of becoming more complete, especially for The Emperor, who had already experienced the extreme pleasure of putting piece after piece of the puzzle back together.
"Let's go, board the ship. It's time for you to become complete."
With that, their figures vanished from their original spots and reappeared inside the brilliant-class battleship.
The massive brilliant-class battleship slowly began to take off and then disappeared directly into Realspace. They would rush back to Terra at the fastest possible speed.
Just as the battleship took off, the Emissary of Golden Words Lorgar and Angron, Lord of Red Sands, turned their heads and looked in the direction where the brilliant-class battleship had vanished.
An indescribable feeling arose in the hearts of the two Primarchs.
Even though they knew the Emperor was ultimately the same Emperor, and after merging, he would still be that one Emperor.
But what about the feeling?
In the end, it would still be somewhat different.
Moreover, once the Emperor merged, the number of their brothers would increase quite a bit.
Even Primarchs, as resolute as they were, felt a hint of confusion and melancholy at this moment.
But soon, their confusion and melancholy were dispelled by the brothers fighting alongside them.
Perhaps merging wasn't so bad after all, was it?
At least their brothers were fighting side-by-side—
The galaxy and the central region have become a blazing battlefield, with two Guillimans maneuvering troops against each other, their armies brutally slashing one another and even resorting to devastating weapons, destroying star systems in the process.
On Holy Terra, the Primarch Perturabo of the Iron Warriors, responsible for Sol System defense, is utterly bewildered.
The existence of the Warp Storm, along with the Imperium of Man's abstract communications network, means that the Imperium has no idea that a War in Heaven has already erupted in the central region of the galaxy between rebel forces and Imperial legions.
Countless star systems have been destroyed by the war, innumerable worlds have been affected, and have vanished into the star‑sea.
It is the kind of conflagration the Imperium of Man could not even imagine during the Great Crusade, and this fire is still burning, the star‑sea ablaze.
Yet all of this seems unrelated to the loyalist faction forces stationed on Holy Terra, whose fleet is doing everything it can.
The Iron Warriors, a unit highly skilled in defensive warfare, are building the Empire's final line of defense.
The Iron Warriors, the Thousand Sons Legion, and the Sons of Horus—three loyalist legions of the Empire—have established their defenses in the Sol System, but the traitors' army has yet to arrive.
Horus, Perturabo, and Magnus all know that the traitors will eventually strike the Throne World,
But after all this time the traitors have not come, leaving them utterly baffled.
Now, finally, they have an answer: the Night Lords fleet has returned to Terra, bringing news of the war raging in the central region of the Galaxy.
With no Space Marine of the Imperium to block them, the Primarch Konrad Curze of the Night Lords marched straight to the Terra Imperial Palace and found his brothers.
At that moment, Magnus, fighting for the Empire's future within the Webway, emerged from the Webway to meet his brothers.
Now four Primarchs have gathered on Terra.
However, unlike Curze, Magnus appears utterly exhausted.
Faced with Horus's repeated urgings and the gazes of his two other brothers, Konrad Curze, after much hesitation, finally made up his mind and said to his brothers.
I know what I'm about to say may sound like nonsense, and that's why I hesitated to speak, but I must tell you. The commander fighting in the Mid-Galaxy, the commander of the Imperial Army, his name is Roboute Guilliman, The 13th Primarch.
Our brother Guilliman is commanding the Imperial Army against our brother Guilliman.
This is a war between two Guillimans, with the Imperial forces and the rebel forces clashing.
Alard Curze is a Primarch, and although he is merely the Imperial Primarch of this galaxy, his appearance and the Space Marines of the Night Lords are enough for him to obtain some intelligence from the Imperial Army fighting in the Mid-Galaxy.
Curze gathered some intelligence, and the most shocking part was that the commander of the Imperial Army fighting in the Mid-Galaxy is named Roboute Guilliman.
The 13th Primarch of the Imperium of Man is leading the loyalist faction's forces, fighting the Imperium's traitor Roboute Guilliman and his demonic army. The Thirteenth Legion is battling the Thirteenth Legion.
If Curze hadn't personally seen the Ultramarines Legion warriors shouting slogans of 'For the Imperium, for the Emperor, for the Primarch' and charging forward, also chanting 'For the Primarch' in the Ultramarines clash, he wouldn't have believed it.
Moreover, when it comes to this matter, Curze himself doesn't believe it.
The only reason he would consider this absurd situation believable is the clash between the Ultramarines, which is obviously insufficient.
What he can't believe is that he saw Roboute Guilliman with his own eyes, that he saw his brother, sitting in the Imperial Army's command room, issuing order after order in battle against the enemy.
Primarchs share a telepathic link; although the Guilliman he saw was slightly odd, Curze instantly recognized him as The 13th Primarch Guilliman.
????
What are you saying, Curze? Haven't you woken up yet?
Who is the one commanding the Imperial Army in the Mid-Galaxy to fight the traitor Guilliman? Is it Guilliman?
Do you mean Guilliman is fighting himself, that there are two Guillimans in this galaxy?
This is absurd, Curze, I don't trust this.
Bruce immediately dismissed the matter; it's not that he was unwilling to trust his brother, but the words his brother uttered were too nonsensical to be possible.
Earlier, a Rogal Dorn of the Imperial Fists standing with the loyalist faction against the Chaos faction's Roboute Guilliman was enough to leave them astonished and incredulous.
Now Curze suddenly appears and says that besides a single Rogal Dorn on the loyalist side, there is even another Guilliman?
No matter who joins the loyalist faction, however outrageous, Horus would be willing to trust them based on his trust in his brothers, but Guilliman is an exception.
As the instigator of the Imperial rebellion, if even Guilliman joins the loyalist side, what meaning does this rebellion have?
Based on his knowledge of his brother, the Warmaster categorically rejected the notion that Guilliman would join the loyalists to attack the rebels; as the initiator of the Great Heresy, Guilliman would never do such a thing.
Curze, I think you're exhausted, so much so that you're hallucinating; how could this be possible?
Horus slowly stood up, walked over to Curze, and touched Curze's forehead with his hand, wondering if his brother had a fever or was simply worn out from the long war.
Curze brushed away Horus's hand probing his forehead and said solemnly.
I am not exhausted, my brother; I assure you I am not worn out. I can guarantee that everything I have seen is real, everything I can see.
Curze knows that after saying this, his brother probably won't believe him.
His gaze swept over the three brothers in the room; the Warmaster worried if he was exhausted, and Magnus and Perturabo's eyes also showed concern.
These two brothers clearly also worried whether he was exhausted, perhaps fighting guerrilla warfare behind enemy lines, bearing too much pressure and needing rest.
My brother, I think you may need proper rest; this could be a Chaos Gods' plot, exploiting your weary heart.
Magnus, familiar with the Chaos Gods, directly interpreted the scene Curze witnessed as a Chaos Gods' conspiracy.
No, Magnus, you must believe me; I could never misinterpret these events, nor misread the telepathic link—Primarchs have a special connection, as we both know.
Curze grew urgent; although his knowledge of the Chaos Gods is shallow, he also sensed that Magnus seemed reluctant to trust him.
He had prepared himself mentally before speaking, but when his brothers refused to trust him, Curze still felt uneasy.
Perturabo, my brother, you should believe me, right?
Curze saw that the two brothers almost no longer trusted him, feeling that perhaps he was being cursed by the gods or hallucinating from exhaustion, so he placed his hope on the last person.
Perturabo, the brother of steel inside and out.
Curze looked at him.
My brother, you know, I also want to trust you, but what you say is simply unbelievable.
I think you truly, as Magnus said, have been misled.
Perturabo, though wanting to comfort his brother, could not go against his reason and told his brother that he trusted him.
When Perturabo's words finished, Curze weakly collapsed onto the ground.
He knew that even with a vaccine, his brothers wouldn't believe his outlandishly extreme words.
But he really saw it.
He truly saw it, the genuine Guilliman.
And that Guilliman even gave him orders to attack a specific location.
Perhaps his unwillingness to accept his brother's betrayal and disbelief kept Curze from abandoning his inner conviction.
The Guilliman who came from Zeke became Curze's final comfort, the reassurance that his brother had not betrayed him.
Facing Curze's helplessness, Magnus, Horus, and Perturabo exchanged glances, then helplessly stepped forward to help their brother up.
They too wish to see their brother not betray, but the reality is that Guilliman has already betrayed the Imperium.
In the end, Konrad Curze was escorted into the imperial palace by his brothers and placed in the room next to the throne so he could rest properly.
Magnus, however, got back on his feet, preparing to re‑enter the Webway to shoulder his responsibility.
In the deep Webway he commanded the Space Marines of the Containment Legion and the Emperor's Guard, continuously watching the endless stream of Warp Daemons, buying the Imperium of Man a sliver of hope.
Normally Magnus would have entered by now, but the words Konrad Curze once said kept echoing in his ears, constantly influencing his mind.
As Magnus walked, he didn't step directly into the Webway; instead he halted before entering.
'What's wrong, Magnus?' With Magnus's aid, the Emperor seated upon the Golden Throne still had some strength left; he could even converse with his offspring, though he could not leave the throne.
'Father, do you believe Guilliman has once again stood on our side, resisting Guilliman?'
Magnus couldn't grasp the matter, so he could only pose the question to his father, asking the Emperor for an answer… 'I…'
'Believe.'
To Magnus's surprise, the world gave a completely different answer to this question.
'Believe, Father, what are you saying? Do you believe a new Guilliman will emerge to resist the traitorous Guilliman's assault?'
'It's not that I want to babble, Father; this is simply absurd.'
I truly can't understand why you would say such a thing.'
Argus didn't understand why the Emperor would utter such words.
'Don't you think Konrad Curze was misled and deceived by those evil beings of Chaos?'
Worried about his brother, Magnus had not yet realized that two more people were already behind him.
The Emperor seated on the Golden Throne looked at his offspring and gently shook his head.
'No, I think having two Magnuses is possible, let alone two Guillimans. In our galaxy Guilliman is a traitor; if there were another galaxy, perhaps Guilliman would be a loyalist.'
'Magnus, you don't need to go to the Webway now; stay here.'
The Emperor, seated on the Golden Throne, comforted his child; while Magnus still didn't understand what was happening, the Emperor spoke again.
'Both of you have traveled from afar, thank you for your effort. I believe the war that erupted in the central galaxy must be your doing.'
The Emperor, high upon the Golden Throne, shook his head with a hint of self‑mockery.
'I have seen it; all your offspring still exist. It seems you are more successful than I.'
???
'Father, what being are you talking to?'
'Someone is behind me!?'
At that moment Magnus snapped back to his senses, hurriedly turning his head to look behind him, and that very sight left him frozen in place.
Zeke?
Who is Zeke?
He doesn't know.
He has no idea who Zeke is.
But he did see The Emperor who looks exactly like his father.
'Two fathers?!'
Even with Magnus's wisdom, he stood rooted, speechless, shocked—how could there be two fathers?
The Primarch's sense allowed him to confirm that the Emperor before him and his father were identical; they were almost the same being.
'Magnus, do not be disrespectful,' the Emperor on the Golden Throne said, halting Magnus's rudeness, then turned to Zeke and The Emperor.
'My apologies for the poor hospitality, but you both should already know—I cannot stand up from the throne.'
'I understand your purpose; you wish us to merge, right?'
'I am, of course, willing; after all, all your sons are exemplary, none have fallen to Chaos yet, and compared to you, I seem far inferior.'
Seated on the Golden Throne, the Emperor made a few self‑deprecating remarks.
Since taking the Golden Throne, the Emperor has been able to observe the galaxy through the Warp.
The Emperor and Zeke teamed up to block the Four Chaos Gods' gaze, yet they did not shield the beings sharing Neoth's origin, allowing them to examine the other Primarchs.
The emergence of a Primarch is sensed by the Emperor, and now that he sits upon the Golden Throne, he immediately realized a new Primarch had appeared in his galaxy.
When he saw all his children present throughout the galaxy, holding back the traitorous Guilliman's assault, the Emperor on the Golden Throne was already mentally prepared.
Merge?
No Emperor has ever resisted merging; after all, they are already one and the same, as they should be.
As for which Emperor would dominate the body, whose consciousness would be primary?
Naturally, the one who is superior would take the lead.
How can one tell who is superior?
On one hand, it's judged by the strength of the Imperium under the other's command and their own sons; on the other, by the Emperor's own power.
After seeing The Emperor appear, the Emperor on the Golden Throne sincerely believed Neoth was far stronger than himself.
After all, the other's sons are under his command, wielding a massive fleet that can blast the galaxy piece by piece.
Countless destroyed star systems and massive Legions all attest to the opponent's might.
Moreover, the numerous unbetrayed Primarchs further demonstrate the opponent's skill in raising his children.
The Emperor feels gratified to entrust his empire and sons to such a being.
'Come, let us merge. I willingly meld into your body, becoming one. My empire, humanity, and my children are now yours to tend to, for they are also your children.'
On the Golden Throne, the Emperor uttered those words, while The Emperor, standing beside Zeke, wore an embarrassed expression.
He felt a bit embarrassed by the remark; if the other is a failure, then he himself was no less a failure before.
Moreover, compared to the other, who has a powerful Psyker like Magnus as a backup and a successful Emissary of Golden Words Lorgar, he seems even more of a failure.
The other at least has so many loyalist Primarchs, whereas his own, before Zeke intervened, consisted of only Guilliman and Leon.
They have nine Primarchs, while he has only two.
The Emperor felt a bit awkward, but the Emperor on the Golden Throne did not share that feeling; he proactively merged with Neoth, and the Neoth who had been standing below now appeared on the Golden Throne.
At the moment the two fully merged, a roar rang out.
'You bastard, you're clearly more trash than I am!!!'
"Cough, cough."
"It's fine, it's fine. These things happen often during fusion. Although the Emperors are the same being, they still have their own individual experiences."
Zeke lightly coughed a few times, successfully drawing the attention of the other Imperium Primarchs back to himself.
Although everyone clearly heard that their father was swearing during the final moments of fusion, the Primarchs didn't say anything further.
Their father had merged with the other party, meaning the one sitting up there was also their father.
That one was also their dad. Could they really rush up, point at The Emperor's nose, and say, "You're not as good as my dad?"
What if The Emperor asked them:
"If he is your dad, am I not your dad?"
What to do?
Clearly, the one currently sitting on the Golden Throne was also their dad.
The Primarchs glanced at each other, eventually lowered their heads to look at the floor, then raised their heads again, focusing all their attention on Zeke.
Dealing with their dad was simply too troublesome. They decided to focus on Uncle Zeke, who had come with their dad.
"Alright, stop looking at me. I know you're feeling a bit awkward, but it's not important. Your dad isn't a bad guy."
"You really don't need to worry so much. After all, they are both your fathers; they wouldn't harm you."
Zeke smiled at these Primarchs, and the Emperor sitting on the Golden Throne did the same.
The first sentence the Emperor spoke after smiling carried a tone of reproach.
"My sons, do you intend to oppose me? To become rebels, just like Guilliman?"
Here it came—The Emperor's signature way of speaking nonsense—and yet Lorgar and the others fell for it every time.
Mm~
Ninety-nine percent cherished treasures~
"Dad!" the three Primarchs said in unison. And Horus, the Mulan God of the Shadow Moon Azure, rushed quickly to The Emperor's feet, tightly hugging his thigh.
No matter which galaxy he was from, Horus was definitely a daddy's boy.
While everything was harmonious in the Imperial Palace, and Zeke had already left the palace to play his games elsewhere, the Evil Gods in the Warp also noticed the changes on Terra.
Due to the powerful fluctuations caused by the fusion of the two Emperors, the Evil Gods in the Immaterium felt a strong threat, one that stemmed from the potential destruction of their very essence.
Without any hesitation, massive armies of daemons began pouring continuously into the Webway. They intended to use their strength to destroy the impending crisis.
The war inside the Webway became even more terrifying. The Angelic Legions, Space Marines, Custodes, large numbers of elite mortal soldiers, and Skitarii from the Forge Worlds who were originally fighting there were now in a dire situation.
Furthermore, the Great Rift, which had been suppressed by the Emperor sitting on the Golden Throne, was slowly expanding. The Four Chaos Gods attempted to use this method to make the Emperor, and the sense of crisis within themselves, vanish.
Such changes could not escape the combined scrutiny of Zeke and the Emperor.
Just one second after this event occurred, the Emperor stood up from the Golden Throne, and Zeke reappeared in the Imperial Palace. The two exchanged glances.
"Shall we kill them?" the Emperor asked softly.
"Kill them!" Zeke replied without hesitation.
"The two of us will eliminate their leaders together, and the remaining small fry must be led by someone—Magnus."
Zeke's voice rang out in Magnus's ear. An order from Zeke was conveyed to Magnus.
"Mobilize all forces in the Imperial Palace, and join us in charging into the Webway, charging into the Warp, and ending this war!"
A chilling aura of killing intent was instantly revealed.
The next second, soldiers appeared one after another in the Imperial Palace. After successive flashes of white light, the full complement of both Emperors' Custodes appeared.
"The mortals have completed their glory, and the subsequent offensive will be carried out by us!"
The appearance of the Golden-Armored Warriors caught the Primarchs off guard, but they recognized the troops before them quite seriously.
The Custodes!
Magnus merely used his psychic power to scan roughly and immediately discovered that there were now at least hundreds of thousands of Custodes in the Imperial Palace.
Since when could the Custodes be described using the phrase "hundreds of thousands"?
Magnus, as a Primarch of the Imperium of Man, stood frozen in place. Beyond that, he discovered the most unbelievable point.
The Custodes had psychic fluctuations on their bodies!!!!
It was commonly known that the Custodes were all Anti-Psykers. How could they possibly have psychic fluctuations? Their combination with the Sisters of Silence was the most powerful Emperor's Claw and Fang combination.
But what was he sensing now? He sensed psychic fluctuations appearing on the Custodes' bodies, and these fluctuations were quite impressive.
A vast aura appeared around Magnus, telling him of the power of this Custodes force.
The entire Custodes force consisted almost entirely of extremely powerful Psykers.
Without waiting for Magnus to say anything, Zeke and the Emperor stood side-by-side in the center of the formation, both drawing the longswords from their waists almost simultaneously.
"Counterattack, in the name of humanity!"
"Carry our wrath into the Warp! Let those four heaps of shit in the Warp know what true Human Wrath is!"
"Advance!"
As the two Emperors swung their longswords down, the Custodes surged like a tide into the Webway gate, and massive legions began entering the war.
Batch after batch of Custodes poured into the Webway. As these Custodes disappeared, more white lights appeared behind them, indicating that numerous Custodes were being teleported over one by one.
The Custodes, the Imperium of Man's most powerful ground combat force, whose numbers could not be matched by any single astartes Legion, and whose quality likewise could not be compared to any Space Marine.
They were the Imperium of Man's most powerful Super-Psykers, and also the Imperium of Man's largest Superhuman Legion. They were no longer the sparse Ten Thousand-Man Regiment of the past, but countless troops filling mountains and seas.
The Custodes frantically charged into the Webway, while Zeke and the Emperor stepped together into the Warp.
Blazing flames burned on both of them, and the fire began to spread, reaching the bodies of the Custodes and even the Primarchs. Yet, no one felt they were being scorched; they only felt endless warmth.
"In the name of humanity, flash-strike those four heaps of shit! Completely eradicate them in the Warp, for the manifest destiny of mankind!"
The hard-pressed Imperial Army, on the verge of defeat, finally received the reinforcements they so desperately needed.
A tide of Custodians appeared beside the Imperium's soldiers.
The instant a Bloodletter's strike landed, a Custodian's guardian spear cleaved it in two—making every Imperial trooper realize that salvation had arrived.
One, two—then uncountable ranks of golden giants. The vast Ten Thousand Strong Custodes Regiment marched onto the field.
Behind them strode the Dreadnoughts—life-supporting tombs for the Imperium's finest, and, when needed, AI-piloted war engines.
Dreadnought Contingents advanced in lock-step: one machine for every hundred Custodians.
"Deploy the Beacons!"
The first Custodes Centurion to set foot on the battlefield issued the order; century-strength squads surged forward in perfect drill.
They charged toward the embattled Imperial lines, cutting down Warp Daemons alongside their golden brothers.
Even as the Chaos Gods hurled fresh legions into the fray, the Custodes hurled them right back.
Amid the sea of gold, a handful of Techmarines drew every eye.
Under the watch of Adeptus Mechanicus Skitarii, they assembled device after device—until, sixty seconds later, a radiant sphere blossomed within the Warp.
The light was soft; in the Warp's lurid madness it seemed almost mundane.
Yet the moment every beacon locked into place, the surrounding Custodians breathed as though a weight had lifted.
"Activate Beacons—prepare to Warp-jump our Titans!"
Several Centurions of the Ten Thousand Strong Custodes Regiment issued the command as one.
While Imperial troops still reeled at the sight of so many golden saviors, the Beacons flared to life.
The once-gentle glow turned searing, devouring the space around it.
Only then did the Daemon Princes and Greater Daemons realize the Custodes had deliberately cleared vast killing fields.
Beacon after beacon dotted the zone; even the daemons paused, every eye drawn to the pulsing lights.
The Ten Thousand were notoriously lethal; with their numbers suddenly multiplied, no common daemon host could break them. The fiends would need daemon engine—lots of them.
Custodians were mighty, but against unstoppable war-machines even they could fall.
The Webway War had never been a contest of flesh alone; titanic daemon engine and the Imperium's own god-machines now strode into the fire.
The brief daemonic lull gave the Mechanicus Skitarii, Mortal Auxiliaries, Space Marines and Custodes a moment's hard-won breath.
With the onslaught stalled, Custodian Captain-General Constantin at last had time to ask: where in the Emperor's name had all these golden brothers come from?
Every Custodian knew the Ten Thousand was exactly that—ten thousand. Most of the Imperium's high command knew it too.
Yet rank upon rank of new Custodians now stood before him—a sight to freeze the blood.
As their Captain-General, Constantin felt duty-bound to discover how this impossible host had arrived.
He took one step toward the nearest Centurions—and a roar tore through the Warp.
Aaaargh—
More daemon engine howled in answer. No one knew why machines should roar, but the Warp has never cared for reason.
Countless daemon engine surged into view—among them Dark Titans, fallen god-machines sworn to Chaos.
The new threat froze Constantin mid-stride; he spun back toward the foe.
As expected, the lull had been a mirage. The real assault was only beginning; questions would have to wait.
If they had reached the Webway unopposed, perhaps they were allies—perhaps even reinforcements sent by the Emperor Himself.
Constantin revered his master with every fibre of his being.
If the Emperor chose to unleash still more Custodians, who was he to doubt?
Their numbers were… daunting, yes, but no matter.
What mattered now was breaking the daemon tide—and what were those white Beacons, anyway?
The question answered itself: the Beacons' lights linked, forming towering gates of pure radiance.
Wuuu—
A titanic war-horn sounded, followed by the unmistakable tread of Titans—music every Skitarii knew by heart.
"In the name of the Omnissiah—let the Warp's filth drown in fire!"
White gates spilled Skitarii cohorts, yet the troopers were only the herald. Behind them stepped the true giants.
God-machines—the Titan Legion!
Because of their colossal size and transport difficulties, Zeke and the Emperor had not brought the Titan Legion with them.
But Terran Dominion science had bridged the gap; with so much of its tech now blooming in the Warhammer Universe, Warp-jump drives had at last entered service.
The moment the Emperor and Zeke set foot on Terra, the Imperium had mustered every Titan equipped for Warp transit—and now they arrived exactly when needed.
Mechanicus Skitarii stared in stunned silence at the towering shapes coalescing before them.
Archmagi stood transfixed: not one of the approaching Titans stood under a hundred metres tall.
The engines of the Omnissiah walked the earth; they would preach His glory and deliver the Imperium from ruin.
"All for the Omnissiah—all for the Emperor!"
These colossal beings, towering a hundred or even several hundred meters, made the Webway tremble with every step.
Armed with plasma weapons, volcano cannons, and quake cannons capable of leveling cities, each volley carved a vacuum through the demon sea.
The Adeptus Mechanicus' Skitarii followed right behind, a tide of steel launching a counter-charge against the daemonic lines under the Titans' cover.
As the Skitarii attacked, the Custodians around them struck back as well.
Facing the combined onslaught of the Titan Legions and the Custodians, the fallen Chaos Titans roared in fury, trying to halt this flood of iron.
Yet the loyalist Titans held overwhelming superiority in both numbers and quality.
The elite Titan Legions from The Great Wall region were not only larger, better armored, and more heavily armed; their advanced energy shields and smart fire-control systems made the Chaos Titans look clumsy and inefficient.
The war inside the Webway entered its bloodiest phase.
Loyalist Custodians, Titans, Skitarii, Space Marines, and mortal soldiers clashed with the surging daemonic legions, Chaos Space Marines, and corrupted Titans.
Lances of energy and psychic lightning intertwined, the roar of chainswords mixing with daemonic shrieks; every second, countless lives were snuffed out.
Farther inside the Webway, on the edge of the maelstrom where the Warp met Realspace, Zeke stood shoulder to shoulder with the Emperor.
Pure flame burned around them, driving back the surging Warp energies and forming a pocket of relative stability.
Before them loomed four vast, twisted shadows brimming with infinite malice—direct projections of the Four Chaos Gods' will.
Tzeentch's dance of a thousand changes, Khorne's bloodthirsty roars, Nurgle's rotting whispers, and Slaanesh's illusory charms slammed against the Emperor and Zeke's sphere of flame, striving to devour, corrupt, and tear apart these two greatest threats.
"Truly… noisy." The Emperor, watching the frantic scene, could not help uttering those two words.
"Indeed a bit noisy, but not yet unbearable."
"After all, these things have always been like this; because they are noisy, they deserve to be destroyed."
Zeke stood right next to The Emperor, while across from them the four Warp Gods, between roars, stared somewhat dumbfounded at the pair.
The Emperor's aura felt alien to the Four Chaos Gods; they sensed the Dark King, yet the Original Annihilator Guilliman was unmistakably still in Realspace.
It left the Chaos Gods utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend what they were witnessing—most crucially, they saw Zeke.
Zeke's appearance was something the Chaos Gods had never anticipated; they had never imagined such a mighty entity appearing in Realspace—where had this being come from?
"Who are you…?" Tzeentch asked, puzzled by Zeke's origin.
"I'm Your Daddy!" Zeke shot back without courtesy.
Visible redness crept over the Lord of Change's face—clearly infuriated.
When had a Chaos God ever been so insulted?
"For the crimes you have committed against the galaxy, against humanity, you deserve to be flayed alive, ground to dust, wiped from existence."
"Now it's time for you to pay the price!" Regardless of Tzeentch's expression, Zeke was set on obliterating the Four Chaos Gods before him.
An unstoppable power surged from Zeke; the Emperor likewise drew his weapon. Together, their might made the entire Immaterium quake.
Even Khorne himself felt a sudden, inexplicable dread.
Khorne lifted his massive head toward Zeke and the Emperor, gripped by an incomprehensible fear.
The combined strength of Zeke and the Emperor shook the Warp itself; the Four Chaos Gods dared not imagine whether the Immaterium could survive a clash with them, nor how long they themselves could endure.
How had a favorable situation suddenly turned into this?
They should have been advancing triumphantly; the Original Annihilator's hosts had been driving the Imperium of Man into retreat.
Yet now, two mighty beings had appeared: the Emperor had risen straight from the Golden Throne.
And the Golden Throne Webway—supposed to become the new Eye of Terror—showed no flaw, even as the aura of the Dark King emanated from him. Why?
"You are the variable—the greatest variable! Why are you here?!" The Four Chaos Gods were no fools; Zeke was the anomaly turning everything upside-down.
"Why should I answer you?"
Zeke offered no reply; he simply began to act.
Boom—!
Without warning or declaration, two blazing lights tore through the Warp's veil in answer to the Chaos Gods' questions.
One was the sweep of the emperors sword.
That light condensed ten thousand years of humanity's indomitable will, bearing the Emperor's supreme resolve to guard the galaxy. It severed all causality and purified all filth, becoming a golden torrent that pierced the void and slashed toward the four chaotic projections.
The other was Zeke's will. He used no weapon; he simply reached out, fingers closing on empty air. In his palm he seemed to grasp the very concept of "order" within the universe.
The Fourth Great Catastrophe signifies order; the Fourth Great Catastrophe signifies destruction—destruction and order coexist, turning solely on the thought of the Fourth Great Catastrophe.
Invisible, absolute power rippled outward. Where it passed, Chaos' disorder was forcibly calmed, Warp Storms froze in an instant, and countless lesser daemons were erased on the conceptual level before they could scream—as though they had never existed.
"No—!"
The Gods' projections shrieked. Their powers buckled and shattered under the dual onslaught: the Lord of Change's schemes were crushed by sheer force, Khorne's rage was frozen by cold order, Nurgle's rot evaporated under pure light, and Slaanesh's allure became laughably pale before resolute will.
"This is humanity's galaxy—your antics end here!"
The Chaos Gods' projections vanished. Next, they would be hunted through the Immaterium itself, their domains utterly destroyed.
Zeke and the Emperor exchanged a glance, ready to finish the job.
But just as they prepared to strike, a fleet—small yet menacing—appeared before them.
"The eternal throne, the eternal throne—return our eternal throne to us!"
The Little Blue Demon had arrived.
Four battleships, five destroyers, and two frigate-class extradimensional warships appeared before Zeke and the Emperor—vessels whose aura clearly belonged to a god-tier civilization... This might be a chance, an opportunity to reverse the current situation.
The moment Zeke saw the Little Blue Demon fleet, his first instinct was to grab The Emperor and bolt out of the Warp.
Higher-Dimensional Daemons showing up in the Warp—what hope was left for the place?
It was doomed, plain and simple.
Even if those four Warp Gods didn't lift a finger, everyone here was finished; there was no point staying.
Just as Zeke was about to pull the Emperor away, the Emperor voiced his objection.
"Zeke, we can't leave. If we walk out now, the Warp becomes a paradise for these Little Blue Demons. If their four big shots devour it, who knows how vast a fleet they'll field here."
The Emperor was clearly still rattled by the war with Chan Yuan and those Tyranid Swarms.
He actually believed that after the Higher-Dimensional Daemons gorged themselves on Warp energy, they could churn out even more warships.
"Neoth, get a grip—they're Higher-Dimensional Daemons, not those bugs."
Even if they absorb this energy, it'll only make their ships stronger, not summon extra reinforcements."
Higher-Dimensional Daemons are formidable, but Warp energy only enhances their vessels; it won't swell their numbers."
Besides, those four turds in the Warp aren't vegetarians—let them brawl with the daemons first. We'll pull back for now."
Once I bring my brilliant-class battleship over, we'll wipe these fiends clean off the map!"
And if they manage to open a spatial passage, it might be a perfect opportunity."
With that, Zeke grabbed The Emperor again, ready to leave; this time Neoth didn't resist.
Fine—if Zeke had spoken, what else could he say? Naturally he'd listen. He was a semi-retired Emperor now; let Zeke handle the headaches.
The two figures vanished from the Warp.
With Zeke gone, the Little Blue Demons—aka the Higher-Dimensional Daemons—lost their target. "Commander, that human Chaos God has left again; we can't track him."
A Little Blue Demon guard reported to Fleet Commander Gursbi of the Little Blue Demons.
"Nonsense, do I need you to tell me? I can see that freak Chaos God left—it's good news for us!"
Smack!
Irritated, Gursbi used his psychic power to slap the reporting Little Blue Demon.
"Rubbish—of course I know! Our ship's sensors already registered their departure. Must you repeat it? Did you really want to fight him?"
That guy's the Terran Dominion's Emperor; even weakened, we're no match. Don't mess around—I was just talking big."
Humans have thirty brilliant-class battleships stationed here; if you think you can win, go find that Chaos God and fight him. See whether their fleet wipes us out first or we finish him off."
Little Blue Demons are energy-based fiends, each one like a common ghost with an irregular form.
In theory it's hard to read emotions on such energy creatures—but they're Higher-Dimensional Daemons, after all.
Higher-Dimensional Daemons do have expressions. Though they don't know what became of the earlier Tyranid Swarm fleet, Zeke's presence alone told them those bugs were gone.
If a fleet stronger than theirs had already vanished, why clash head-on with Zeke?
Their small flotilla's arrival was nothing more than an accident.
"Enough—forget that terrifying human Chaos God. Let's focus on this energy-rich realm."
"I sense endless energy here, tastier than any creature—let's devour it!"
Gursbi, commander of the Higher-Dimensional Daemon fleet, had a clear goal:Since they can't beat Zeke,Then he'll start eating..
The Warp was overflowing with energy and souls; swallowing them would only make their warships stronger.
Feast!!!
"Feed! For the Great Hunger!"
"Devour! For eternal satisfaction!"
"Energy! Souls! All is delicious sustenance!"
The Little Blue Demon fleet's comm channels brimmed with greedy, ecstatic shrieks.
To them, the Warp's endless, decent-quality, emotion-laden Chaos energy was a matchless banquet—
far better than laboriously hunting scattered, inefficient souls in Realspace.
As for flesh, why bother? With top-tier energy available, who'd chew low-grade meat?
Four battleships, five destroyers, two frigates—eleven Higher-Dimensional Daemon vessels—dropped all disguises and limits at once.
Their hulls, built of pure energy and bizarre geometry, began to unleash terrifying suction.
Countless abyss-like energy vortices cracked open across their hulls, madly gulping Warp energy, soul fragments, even low-grade daemons.
"What—what is that?!" Tzeentch, first to recover from the shock of the Four Gods' shattered projections, sensed this alien, more advanced, greedier plunder.
For the first time, its scheming mind felt sheer terror.
"Invaders! Raiders! They're devouring our realm!" Khorne bellowed in fury, feeling the war-and-slaughter energies of his domain being forcibly siphoned away.
"Rot… corruption… the energy is being… purified?! No!" Nurgle watched in horror as the decay, sickness, and cyclic energies—once absorbed—were stripped of their essence, reduced to pristine fundamental power, denying his very existence.
"So… exquisite… but it's mine! Mine!" Slaanesh wavered between greed and dread, seeing the Warp's extreme sensations and emotions—its own sustenance—snatched away.
The Four Chaos Gods, already vexed by the earlier appearance of The Emperor and Zeke, swiftly shifted targets.
Mighty Chaos Daemon Legions abandoned the Webway war and charged toward the Higher-Dimensional Daemons.
They could not allow these Little Blue Demons to run rampant in the Warp a moment longer.
"Are you really okay? Zeke, do we really not have to kill those guys right from the start?"
The Emperor and Zeke had successfully returned to the location of the Imperial Palace, but thinking of the characteristics of the Higher-Dimensional Daemons, The Emperor felt uneasy, so he had to ask Zeke again.
"It's fine, Neoth. Let them devour it. These Higher-Dimensional Daemons possess a unique technology; their cosmic spatial technology is absolutely unmatched."
Zeke's tone became low, and it was only after a long pause that he spoke.
"I miss Little Grey and the others a bit."
"Waiting for the eternal throne to recharge takes far too long. If these Higher-Dimensional Daemons absorb enough energy, allowing the Federation to come over, allowing Grey Wind and the others to come over, then all of this will be worth it."
"After all, this place is a long distance from the galaxy we are in, isn't it?"
"Moreover, I am not a saint; I have selfish motives too."
...The Emperor wasn't stupid. After Zeke finished speaking, he already understood Zeke's plan: he intended to hand over this Warp space to the Little Blue Demons for consumption.
On one hand, it was to suppress the Chaos Gods; on the other hand, he intended to study the technology of these Little Blue Demons.
If they could open a spatial passage here, then undoubtedly, Zeke's Terran Dominion could naturally rush into this galaxy like sharks smelling blood.
If the Terran Dominion could successfully arrive, even if only a portion of the personnel, as long as they could rebuild and merge the Stargate Network within this galaxy, the Terran Dominion's army could appear here.
In this way, Zeke's civilization would completely appear in this galaxy, or rather, they would completely appear in this universe.
"But..."
After understanding Zeke's thoughts, generally speaking, The Emperor could actually understand Zeke's intentions, but there was one thing The Emperor still voiced.
"If the Higher-Dimensional Daemons arrive in large numbers first, then what should the humans of this galaxy do?"
Zeke's Terran Dominion technology is certainly advanced, but it is clear that the various factions fighting the Terran Dominion also have their unique strengths in certain technologies, such as the spatial technology of the Higher-Dimensional Daemons.
From the current perspective, whether it is the appearance of the Tyranid Swarm or the Higher-Dimensional Daemons themselves, the technology of the Higher-Dimensional Daemons is definitely among the best of all factions.
How can Zeke guarantee that it will be the Terran Dominion fleet appearing in this galaxy, and not the forces of the Higher-Dimensional Daemons?
Assuming the forces of the Higher-Dimensional Daemons arrive in this galaxy first, then even if the Terran Dominion forces arrive later, what immense price would the people of this galaxy have to pay?
Zeke remained silent in response. It wasn't until a long time had passed that he finally spoke: "You know me, Neoth. I am a person."
"I will protect the people I care about, and I will also protect humanity, but I have my own demands."
"What I need is the complete victory of humanity. I cannot accept failure. I need humanity to win."
"This galaxy has ultimately not been brought under our control, and there is no place more suitable than this galaxy, as its location is simply too far away from where we are."
"It is so far away that even if Higher-Dimensional Daemons appear, forming a substantial threat, or even occupying this galaxy, they cannot possibly affect our homeworlds. As long as the stargates are destroyed, everything will be fine.
Isn't that right?"
"We must act quickly. We must seize the initiative, otherwise, relying solely on the power of the human race, we cannot possibly contend against their combined assault. What we need is the advantage of the first move."
"Even if we have to pay enormous casualties and costs to gain this advantage, we still need this advantage of the first move."
"Once the Federation personnel arrive, I will deal with those passages. Trust me, I have the ability!"
"As for the people of this galaxy, and the price they pay and the hatred they accumulate in this war?"
"I will avenge them. For humanity to ultimately achieve total victory, sacrifice is unavoidable."
The answer had been given... Zeke planned to use this galaxy as a channel to allow the Terran Dominion to appear in this universe ahead of time.
Even if doing so was risky, even if it might lead to the large-scale appearance of Higher-Dimensional Daemons, resulting in the consumption of all humanity in the entire galaxy.
But hadn't the Imperium of Man already found the answer long ago?
No sacrifice is too great to accept; everything is for humanity!
The Emperor understood. The word 'sacrifice' often appeared in many of the actions taken by the Imperium of Man.
Previously, to fight the Tyranids, the Imperium of Man did not hesitate to abandon thousands of worlds just to create a Quarantine Zone.
Although the cost this time was clearly incomparable to the Tyranid War period—this was an entire galaxy.
But... just as the Imperium of Man had always believed.
No sacrifice is too great to accept.
"What if we fail? If we fail, and the Higher-Dimensional Daemons block the path for your Terran Dominion first, and only the Higher-Dimensional Daemons appear, what then?"
"Then all these sacrifices will become smoke, and everything will be for naught."
"Moreover, these Higher-Dimensional Daemons will gain control of a galaxy before us, and our advantage will be diminished by them."
The Emperor could understand Zeke's actions; he just hadn't been able to immediately get used to the idea of sacrificing an entire galaxy. After a brief period of acceptance, The Emperor inquired about the cost of failure.
The cost... Zeke pointed to the eternal throne beneath him.
"Then I will blow up the eternal throne and completely destroy this galaxy, utterly erasing it from the cosmos. Whether it is all matter, concepts, or everything else, I will completely dispose of it."
"Any Higher-Dimensional Daemons that might appear here will also be completely annihilated by such an attack. We will simply find other methods later."
The Emperor fell silent. His golden eyes gazed at Zeke, as if trying to pierce through all the thoughts beneath that calm exterior.
He understood. Zeke was not acting on impulse, nor was he blinded by selfish motives.
He had calculated all possibilities, all consequences, and even the worst outcome, and was prepared to bear the responsibility.
Sacrificing an entire galaxy as a stake, in exchange for a sliver of initiative for human civilization in the greater game.
If he won, the power of the Terran Dominion could intervene early, break the deadlock, and perhaps even secure the victory in one go.
If he lost, he would not hesitate to personally destroy this stake, burying it along with any potential threats, ensuring the enemy gained no advantage.
What decisiveness, and what... ruthlessness.
Furthermore, what is the eternal throne?
The eternal throne was the foundation of Zeke's power at this time.
If the Terran Dominion did not arrive, the loss of the eternal throne would mean Zeke would no longer possess the ability to resist the Evil Gods.
Zeke's power relies on the Terran Dominion. If the Federation's main forces have not arrived, the only things currently providing Zeke with power are those brilliant-class battleships and some Terran Dominion personnel.
But Zeke's power still couldn't be compared to that of mortals, though his power would only be slightly stronger than the Primarchs at that point.
This was a Grand Wager, staking a galaxy and his own immense power. Win, and all worries cease. Lose, and the cost is enormous!
"Is this gamble absolutely necessary?"
He already had the answer, but The Emperor couldn't help but ask the question.
"This is my responsibility, Neoth."
"They spare no cost and stop at nothing to find me; I can't let their faith in me down. I must lead them to victory."
"This time isn't like before—if we lose, we won't get another chance to try again."
"The current war puts us alone against nine rivals; if we don't seize the initiative, their combined pressure will crush us."
Zeke's tone was grave, and worry weighed heavily on his heart.
Is the Terran Dominion strong?
Undeniably so—it's powerful enough that almost no single civilization can stand against it.
But are its enemies weak?
Whether the Four Great Calamities or the Revival Empires reborn under the Overlords, none are pushovers.
One against nine—because only nine civilizations are even qualified to sit at the table.
Only nine are worthy opponents for the Terran Dominion, but that doesn't mean those are its only foes.
One or even two or three civilizations combined might not beat the Federation Zeke built, yet the enemy numbers nine.
With all nine intervening together, the Federation now fights at a disadvantage—news Zeke received aboard the brilliant-class battleship.
As an active battleship of the Federation, the brilliant-class vessel naturally carries data on the crises and enemy numbers it faces.
At first the Federation encountered only a few Fallen Revival Empires and the Overlords behind them while searching for Zeke.
But after the Federation destroyed the forty-ninth common universe, more enemies joined the fray.
Now the Federation's nine former foes have allied against it. As Humanity's Emperor, Zeke must shoulder his duty and pave the way to victory.
The price he'll pay will be enormous—but there's no choice.
Who told the Federation, on its journey, to annex so few universes—bringing along only a thousand star systems?
Even with time-reversed resource tables, supplies are stretched thin.
The scale of war is simply too vast.
Having missed early momentum, colonizing more universes is now almost impossible.
Little Grey never spelled it out, but Zeke already learned the situation from the brilliant-class battleship.
Some things need no governor's report once you check for yourself.
Zeke is Emperor of the Terran Dominion. Though the Federation prefers its Emperor not worry, they have no right to deny him knowledge.
The Emperor is entitled to every plight the Federation faces.
They may not volunteer reports so the Emperor can live in peace.
Yet when the Emperor demands knowledge, they must lay it all before him.
"One versus nine—all roughly equal civilizations?"
Even The Emperor was shocked at the odds.
Zeke nodded. "Yes, one against nine—and each holds a multiverse as its foundation while we have none."
"So I must seize the initiative, plant humanity's flag in this galaxy first, and bring the entire multiverse under human control."
"Only then can we stay ahead in the wars to come, instead of already losing ground on the front lines as we are now."
"Even if our warships are superior—one of ours can destroy four or eight of theirs—their sheer mass lets them field ten or twenty more."
"It's not that our industry lags; the resources we constantly generate can barely sustain this conflict."
After reviewing the data aboard the brilliant-class battleship, Zeke's thinking shifted.
Other civilizations in this multiverse also want a stake.
Before, Zeke had no wish to monopolize the entire multiverse.
The Federation's arrival differed little in timing from the rest, making a first move difficult—but now he intends to risk it.
Success means the cosmos and galaxy fall to humanity, giving them leverage later. Failure only means they fight on.
A temporary loss of strength is nothing. The Emperor found no words; Zeke's gamble mirrored his own Great Crusade.
Back then the Imperium raced to unify the galaxy while the Chaos Gods were distracted, seizing the advantage.
That crusade could linger a lonely century on Terra, then two more centuries across the galaxy.
But Zeke?
He aims to bring the whole multiverse under human control within a little over a century—an ambition grander than the Great Crusade.
"Humanity can still be saved; there's still a chance to revive it, and this is our only shot—we must seize it."
"Neoth, will you join me in saving humankind and making it greater? Fight side by side with me!"
Zeke stretched out a hand toward the Emperor, offering an invitation.
How familiar the scene felt. The Emperor recalled inviting the Primarchs and like-minded heroes to save the galaxy and revive humanity—just as he once beckoned companions to the Great Crusade.
Now a new human stretched out his hand, asking if he would save humanity and fight together.
In that instant he seemed to see countless reflections of himself.
The Emperor who, amid the ruins of Terra in the Age of Strife, kindled the first spark of order.
The Emperor who, during the Unification Wars, faced warlords and aliens, raised the aquila high, and swore to lead humanity back to the stars.
The Emperor who, in the Great Crusade, fought side by side with his sons and heroes across the galaxy, only to witness betrayal and sacrifice.
Each had faced seemingly impossible odds, stood on the precipice, and staked everything for humanity's future.
Each had stretched out a hand, seeking allies, yearning for the strength of comradeship.
He didn't answer Zeke at once; instead he raised his own hand.
Slowly, steadily, he reached out and clasped Zeke's hand.
"Just as you fought beside me to save my children and the humans of the galaxy, I will stand with you to save humanity's future!"
"Let this galaxy be our wager—we shall win!"
"This time the tragedy of the Great Crusade will not repeat. Victory is ours!!!"
With the galaxy as the stake, a new high-stakes gamble is about to begin.
Zeke decided to wager this very galaxy—now torn between rebellion and the Great Crusade—on that single thread of hope, on humanity's ultimate right to victory.
In the end, this multiverse will fall into human hands!
That is Zeke's conviction, a conviction that has shifted many times, yet now a grand objective stands before everyone.
Carrying out this plan still requires much, but then again, no sacrifice is too great to accept.
Yet humanity remains mankind's most precious asset; the galaxy can be abandoned.
After all, it is only territory—if destroyed, so be it—but the precious humans within this galaxy must not be given up.
Guilliman's Great Heresy must be crushed, and humanity should at once begin evacuating every world held by the loyalist faction, relocating them entirely to other galaxies.
Save whoever can be saved.
Such is the mercy bestowed upon mankind by the Emperor and Zeke.
The two Emperors no longer joined the fighting; instead they turned to governance. Evacuating an entire galaxy is a burden none but the two of them can shoulder.
Guilliman is busy enough, commanding forces against the Original Annihilator Guilliman, while Malcador's people manage affairs across four galaxies.
Only Zeke and the Emperor have the time for this task, so they cannot refuse.
Of course, between administrative duties they must still monitor changes within the sealed space and watch those Little Blue Demons to keep matters from slipping… Inside the Webway—
As the Chaos Gods clash with Higher-Dimensional Daemons, Webway reinforcements dwindle. Facing massed Custodes and Titan Legions, humanity inside the Webway wins victory after a single day of fierce fighting.
The Aquila still flies amid the myriad paths, proclaiming the Imperium of Man's triumph in the Late-Rice War.
Constantine finally has time to ask: what in the world are these suddenly-appearing Custodes?
Hundreds of thousands of Custodes appearing before his eyes gave him a fright.
Yet it also piqued his curiosity to the peak; he could bear it no longer. Now the battle is over—no better moment to ask.
His gaze swept back and forth through the Custodes ranks, searching for someone to speak with.
Soon Bai Yu, Commander of Zeke's Custodes, and Valdor, Commander of the Emperor's Custodes, caught his eye.
Their power armour, identical to his own, instantly proclaimed them Custodian Commanders.
Hmm?
Why are there two Custodian Commanders?
Constantine's brows knitted deep with doubt and wariness.
The Custodes, the Emperor's closest guardians and final blade, have always had but one Commander.
He himself is that Commander for this universe—his role clear, his identity unique.
Yet what did he now see?
Two figures clad in Custodian Commander armour, standing side by side in the distance, directing those mighty, unfamiliar Custodes in mop-up operations.
Their bearing, authority, and the absolute obedience shown by surrounding Custodes all declared them genuine Commanders.
"This violates protocol… and reason…" Constantine's inner alarms blared.
Another Chaos ploy? A masquerade to infiltrate? Yet the pure, overwhelming aura resonant with the Emperor's own could not be faked.
And if they were foes, why help humanity drive off the daemons?
Without these reinforcements, victory in the Webway would have been impossible.
Questions swarmed Constantine's mind, but answers would come—he need only ask.
"Lord Marshal, do you mean to approach those two who, like yourself, bear the rank of Custodian Commander?"
His move did not escape the Custodian Tribune at his side; they read their Marshal's intent, yet none moved to stop him.
Indeed they should—only by asking can they learn who these sudden Custodes truly are.
What better way than to question their very Commanders?
Such a task is fit for Commanders alone; no ordinary Tribune should step forward.
"Yes." Constantine replied curtly, eyes still fixed on the two unfamiliar leaders.
"I will go myself. Maintain vigilance, but do nothing rash. No hostility without my order."
"By your command, Lord Marshal," the Tribune murmured.
Bai Yu and Valdor noticed his approach; they ceased speaking, turned, and calmly watched their fellow Custodian come.
"I am Constantin Valdor, Lord Marshal of the Custodes of Terra."
Ten paces away he halted and announced his name.
His voice steady, he swept sharp eyes over Bai Yu and Valdor.
"And you two—state your names, your origin, and… to whom does this army belong?"
He weighted the words "this army," glancing at Custodes who, alongside mortal auxiliaries and astartes, were clearing the field.
Normally such labor is not Custodes work, so their doing it was unexpected.
Plain to see from the mortal troopers' faces.
Having Custodes beside them on clean-up duty was an honor the auxiliaries could scarcely believe.
The astartes were mostly astonished.
"Bai Yu."
"Valdor."
Together they gave Constantine their names.
"Explaining the details ourselves would be tedious. When the field is cleared, leave Late-Rice and seek the Primarchs outside—they will tell you why."
Or, if fortune favors you, find the Emperor and ask; they should answer."
Bai Yu and Valdor chose not to explain themselves; better the Emperor speak. A Custodian Commander would hardly take their word alone.
"They?"
Constantine caught the plural "they" in Bai Yu and Valdor's reply.
The Emperor is one—there is no "Emperor-s."
Heretics before him!
Constantine's eyes turned blade-sharp.