Guilliman's final memory before awakening was frozen on the battlefield, locked in combat with his fallen brother—right up until the moment his throat was opened by a blade coated in lethal toxins. He did not know how he had been brought back to Macragge; he had fully expected to die.
Now, his gaze swept across everyone in the great hall. He had slept for too long, and the Imperium had changed too much. Yet, even so, he could still distinguish between the enemy and his own progeny. That was enough.
At the roar of "Blood for the Blood God," Guilliman turned toward the overconfident insect. He raised his sword and gave a casual flick; the enemy's body split in two like soft butter. That cultist's roar acted like a spell—in the next instant, the entire hall plunged back into chaotic violence.
The noble demigod uttered no sound. Fueled by a towering rage, he simply strode toward the wretched traitors. A Chaos Sorcerer attempted to block his path, but before the blasphemous incantation could leave his lips, the sorcerer was hoisted high into the air. In his final moments of terror, the Primarch's power fist tightened around his skull. With a sickening crunch, the traitor's head was reduced to a pulp of gore.
The moment the corpse hit the floor, the Primarch's magnificent frame had already charged into the ranks of the Chaos traitors. Berzerkers sworn to Khorne threw themselves recklessly at the reborn demigod, only to meet the same fate: they were reduced to armored chunks of meat.
If the Visarch was like a swordfish—swift and agile in the deep sea—then Guilliman was a Great Whale in a raging storm. No finesse was required; every swing of Guilliman's blade cleared the space around him. A full-force strike from his power fist was enough to turn a veteran in Terminator plate into a tattered rag flying through the air.
The enemy's fire couldn't even track the Primarch's silhouette. Any lucky hits that managed to land did nothing more than polish his thick auric armor. Everyone in the hall was galvanized by the sight of Roboute Guilliman's back; the Ultramarines shouted the glorious name of their Gene-father and charged after him without hesitation.
High above, Saint Celestine raised her sword, her wings spread as she bathed in the sunlight. Tears filled her eyes as she thanked the Emperor for allowing her to witness this moment—the return of a demigod. She dove down, piercing through enemies who dared to resist the Primarch's might.
Alexei didn't lag behind, following headlong in Guilliman's wake. If he didn't show off now, he wouldn't get much of a chance later. Above them, the Battlecruiser continued to strafe any enemies daring to approach the sanctuary.
Watching the Primarch's silhouette as he nearly fought his way out of the hall, Alexei couldn't help but marvel, "As expected of a son of the Emperor. It won't be long before the battle here is over. Since it's such a joyous day, we ought to celebrate. Brand, fire a shot to liven up the atmosphere!"
Receiving Alexei's command, the Battlecruiser ceased its laser array fire. It banked slowly, aligning the prow-mounted Yamato cannon toward the Chaos Titans and heavy vehicles assaulting the walls of the Fortress of Hera.
After a brief hum of charging energy, a massive sphere of light was unleashed toward the distant battlefield. A miniature sun rose from the earth; enemies were evaporated into ash by the colossal energy burst. On the ramparts, the Ultramarines stared in awe at the strike, wondering about the mysterious reinforcements hovering above.
Primarch Guilliman felt the ground trembling beneath his feet. His heightened senses alerted him to the massive explosion occurring kilometers away. With a post-human brain capable of processing information at incredible speeds, he noted the small, hovering warship above them. But for now, Guilliman did not waste cycles wondering where this new hardware came from. He wouldn't care—at least not until the enemies within the Fortress of Hera were purged.
With another ferocious horizontal sweep, Guilliman cleared the frenzied foes before him. He spotted one of his "sons" lying on the ground, his power armor shattered. The Primarch watched him with an unreadable expression. Seeing the warrior's eyes tremble within a blood-masked face, the Primarch resumed his forward march.
Marneus Calgar opened his eyes, only to fall into a state of speechless shock as he watched the receding back of his Gene-father.
The battle did not last as long as one might have imagined. Under the Primarch's violent assault and the encirclement of arriving Ultramarine reinforcements, the Black Legion soldiers faltered. They were terrified of the unstoppable demigod before them. They turned to flee—but where could they possibly run?
When the last Chaos soldier was decapitated by Guilliman, the battle within the Fortress of Hera came to an end.
The Primarch stood silently amidst the carpet of mangled corpses. Behind him, every Astartes dropped to one knee to show their highest respect. No one spoke until Guilliman turned and scanned the crowd. This time, there was no rage or hatred in the Primarch's eyes—only deep contemplation and inquiry.
Finally, his gaze landed on the massive figure draped in Martian red. "Belisarius Cawl. You have fulfilled my request. Thank you. You have done well."
"It is my honor," Cawl replied, leaning on his Omnissian Axe as he bowed his massive frame to show supreme respect to the Lord of Ultramar.
The Primarch began walking back toward his throne of slumber. He needed to understand what had happened to the Imperium during his time in stasis. In his memory, the war should have ended long ago, yet here his homeworld of Macragge was being invaded by the Great Enemy once again.
"Cawl, come with me. Show me in detail everything that has transpired in the Imperium during this time," the Primarch commanded as he passed the Archmagos.
Cawl signaled his assent and followed Guilliman back into the sanctuary. The others were temporarily held outside; the Primarch intended to speak with individuals separately.
Alexei watched Guilliman's massive form pass by, his eyes flickering. He knew the critical moment was coming. The Primarch would undoubtedly summon him later, and their conversation would be vital—it would determine the future development strategy for Aiur.
"Is this the 'hope' you spoke of?" Creed's voice rose from behind him as the Primarch's figure faded into the distance. "A demigod of the Emperor, walking the world of men once more..."
Alexei did not turn around, his eyes still fixed on the direction the Primarch had gone. "Yes. The Imperium is about to undergo a new transformation."