Evelyn: "I am departing. Take care."
Guilliman: "You as well."
At the final moment, Evelyn turned back slightly.
"Goodbye."
Guilliman inclined his head.
"Goodbye."
As she departed—
According to Yuki's retelling—
Guilliman collapsed dramatically to one knee beneath a blood-red sunset.
"Evelyn! Little Evelyn! How am I to endure this cruel galaxy without you? Do not leave me! Do not go!"
He ran through golden light, a tragic monument to lost youth.
(Everything above is fabricated nonsense.)
Celestine swallowed.
"Is… any of that true?"
Yuki leaned closer conspiratorially.
"It's exaggerated. But emotionally? Roughly accurate."
Celestine stared at her.
Greyfax, crouched nearby, repeated internally:
She is technically Imperial-aligned.
You cannot win in a fight.
Control yourself.
Yuki tilted her head.
"Do you think I could gain a sister-in-law?"
Greyfax snapped.
Blade half-drawn.
"You heretical—"
Celestine tackled her mid-motion and clamped a hand over her mouth.
"She is… enthusiastic in her loyalty."
Yuki blinked innocently.
"I don't mind."
A calm voice spoke behind her.
"I do."
Guilliman stood there, smiling in a way that suggested imminent execution.
"Would anyone care to enlighten me?"
Greyfax wisely said nothing.
Celestine also wisely said nothing.
Guilliman dismissed them with a gesture.
They vanished instantly.
Rooftop
On the highest structure near Hera Fortress, Guilliman and Yuki sat overlooking Macragge.
Smoke still lingered faintly in the air.
The sun cast long shadows.
"While embellished," Yuki continued, "the situation is essentially the same."
Guilliman laughed.
Actually laughed.
The real farewell had been brief, political, restrained.
Alliance terms.
Intelligence exchanges.
Cautious civility.
Not tragic romance.
"You do realize," he said, "that she is an Aeldari."
"So?" Yuki replied. "Political marriages are common."
"She is a xenos."
"Technical detail."
Guilliman closed his eyes.
"I have no romantic interest in aliens."
Yuki leaned forward.
"If it's a biological concern, we can consult Father. He is disturbingly capable."
"Stop."
She stopped.
Silence followed.
Then—
"I am not broken," Guilliman said quietly.
"I will go to Terra. I will face what awaits. I am not despairing."
He meant it.
The Great Rift had shattered the Imperium.
Macragge had barely stabilized.
The Plague of Unbelief had spread through Ultramar.
Daemon incursions.
Political fractures.
The Terra Expedition would be a gamble through Warp storms.
He knew the risks.
He also knew he could not hesitate again.
Yuki knew all of that.
She also knew no one treated him normally anymore.
He was a demigod returned from legend.
No one joked with him.
No one teased him.
No one treated him as merely a brother.
So she did.
"If you want to joke," Guilliman said, "say it directly."
Her eyes lit up.
"Really?"
"Yes."
He needed normalcy more than reverence.
She raised a hand.
"One question."
"Yes?"
"You truly feel nothing for Evelyn?"
Guilliman stared at her.
"Absolutely nothing."
"Only humans?"
"Yes."
"Oh~"
He narrowed his eyes.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
He regretted everything.
Elsewhere — Magnus
Magnus the Red observed the skeins of fate.
The Terra Expedition fleet had departed Macragge.
Warp instability would divert it.
Ambush was inevitable.
He had foreseen it.
The Thousand Sons were positioned precisely.
Everything aligned.
Except—
In the futures he glimpsed—
He saw himself being beaten.
By nothing.
By pale fire.
By empty air.
He replayed the threads again and again.
Same result.
Invisible force.
White flame.
Pain.
Magnus frowned.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "this too serves the Architect."
It must.
It always did.
The Ambush
Guilliman's fleet emerged from Warp turbulence—
Directly into Magnus's prepared kill zone.
Macro-cannons ignited the void.
Lances tore across shields.
Runic torpedoes screamed through darkness.
The ambush was surgical.
Guilliman responded instantly.
"Reform line. Deploy interceptors. Counter-battery pattern Theta."
The fleet stabilized—barely.
Shields failed one by one.
Boarding pods struck.
Warp distortions thickened.
Magnus observed from the Tizca's Revenge, confident.
He would not kill Guilliman.
Tzeentch had longer games.
Warp tendrils coiled around the Ultramarine fleet.
The ritual intensified.
Soon they would be dragged into the Empyrean.
Guilliman scanned the battlefield.
"Where is Yuki?"
Sicarius hesitated.
"She… is not present."
Guilliman's jaw tightened.
"Of course."
Boarding
Magnus felt it first.
A distortion.
A disruption.
His escorts reported nothing.
His psychic sight saw—
Nothing.
A thunderous impact.
Internal deck rupture.
Impossible structural collapse.
Sorcerers continued chanting despite screaming.
Magnus finally turned.
A tear split the ceiling.
Metal screamed as it was ripped apart by bare hands.
A pair of cold violet eyes stared down.
Yuki dropped through the widening breach.
"How?" Magnus demanded.
She rolled her wrists.
Twin blades ignited in pale flame.
"Assassination."
Her presence felt wrong.
Not Warp.
Not null.
Something else.
Magnus smiled thinly.
"I sense shared blood."
"Ask your master when you return to him."
White fire exploded outward.
Sorcerers howled as their ritual destabilized.
Magnus raised a psychic barrier—
Lightning shattered it.
Pain flared.
Real pain.
He staggered.
In that fraction of distraction—
A blade flashed.
Brilliant.
Relentless.
"Whether we're blood relatives or not, you'll find out when you die and go back to your master."
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