7 Chapter 7
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Guilliman's voice was not loud, yet it possessed some magical power that pierced through the crowd, exciting the cheering public even more.
Ragged, devout followers of the Imperial Creed were so excited they kneeled and sang praises to the Emperor.
The Emperor had not forsaken mankind, allowing his son to return to help humanity escape from this dark and terrifying world and greet a new, hopeful future.
Some believers couldn't help but cry, taking out electrified whips to lash their bodies, enduring more pain to express their devotion to the Emperor.
"Look at him, child. He is the light of humanity, the redemption of mankind." A woman lifted her few-months-old child, wanting him to remember the figure in the bright blue power armor.
"Long live the Emperor, long live Guilliman." No one knew who shouted it first.
"Long live the Emperor, long live Guilliman." More people began to join.
"Long live the Emperor, long live Guilliman."
In the end, everyone was shouting, both soldiers and civilians were cheering.
A son of the Emperor, a Primarch who vowed to save them, stirred up enormous excitement within them.
Guilliman himself was taken aback. The power of human faith within the dominion template was surging rapidly.
He also felt an invisible force continually pouring into his body, making him even more powerful.
There was even an illusionary sensation that he could single-handedly fight ten of those great demons from before.
And this was only with the support from the Macragge star sector. What kind of scene would it be if he received the endorsement of all the humans in the Imperium?
Suddenly, Guilliman found the idea of confronting the chaos gods quite appealing.
He realized he had to work hard to achieve his goals: to punch the Blood God Khorne, to kick the Prince of Pleasure Slaanesh, to rule the Warhammer universe, and finally conquer the multiverse, paving a way home and staging the triumphant return.
The battle was over. Under the protection of his elite warriors, Guilliman entered the inner city of Macragge.
Everywhere along the road was packed with people who had come from various places.
The ruined starport, still billowing with black smoke, and the continuous landing of aircraft were all because of him.
When these people saw Guilliman, their eyes were brimming with tears. They wept and shouted praises like "Long live Guilliman!" when he glanced at them.
Observing these people, Guilliman realized that they must all be fanatics. He guessed it would be easy for him to order them to their deaths.
Belisarius Cawl and Chapter Master Calgar followed behind Guilliman.
Guilliman's successful resurrection signified a glimmer of hope for humanity in this dark, desperate universe.
This comforted Belisarius Cawl greatly. He had spent thousands of years gathering various technologies from across the galaxy for Guilliman's resurrection.
All his efforts had finally paid off, heralding a new era for the galaxy.
Upon his return, Guilliman was still committed to his mission, fighting for humanity and for the Emperor.
Even though the Imperium had been torn apart by the Great Rift, countless worlds plunged into darkness, Cawl knew that as long as Guilliman returned, there was hope for humanity to regroup and confront Chaos once more.
Chapter Master Calgar was ecstatic, even the neural cables on his head were brimming with excitement and joy.
The return of the Primarch had him and the other elite warriors struggling to contain their excitement.
Celestine, Amalrich, and others were also part of the procession. Their faces were equally filled with unbridled joy.
This was an unprecedented victory, not just because they had driven out the enemy, but more importantly, due to Guilliman's return.
Guilliman, surrounded by his entourage, made his way to the inner city of Macragge. He looked around at this ancient city.
Behind the people's excited cheers were the ruins of Macragge. They had won the battle, but at a devastating cost.
Countless civilians had tragically fallen under the wrath of the Chaos army, their bodies left amidst the ruins, awaiting reclamation.
The fearless defenders of the Imperium too had suffered great losses, their bodies strewn across various trenches.
Shattered cannons and tanks, still fiercely ablaze, and sparks from electronic circuits seemed to mourn the loss of life.
Numerous buildings had collapsed under the onslaught of the Chaos forces, precious human artefacts consumed by the flames.
Macragge had claimed victory, but at a severe cost, marred by wounds and devastation.
Roboute Guilliman's resurgence had momentarily suppressed their sorrow, but he knew this grief would inevitably be unleashed.
The war between the Chaos and the Imperium would continue. The thought of this diluted much of Guilliman's elation of facing ten enemies at once.
He understood that countless more would fall in this war. In the struggle for victory and survival, numerous lives would be lost.
The cogs of fate would be filled with the ashes of human heroes, all in defence of humanity's existence and dignity.
"Hopefully, all this will end well. I certainly don't want to be a plaything for the Chaos Gods," thought Guilliman, reining in his emotions.
Surrounded by his procession, he walked through the cheering crowds and returned to the damaged sanctuary.
Bodies, debris, and smashed daemon engines, along with fearless heavy war vehicles, had all been cleared and relocated.
Within the sanctuary, high-ranking warriors, Belisarius Cawl, and the Saint Celestine paid their respects to Guilliman. They then provided him with a clear understanding of the current state of the Imperium.
Despite being fully prepared mentally, the information Guilliman received was still heart-wrenching.
The fall of Cadia, the Great Rift tearing through the galaxy, countless daemons manifesting in the human world, causing indescribable terror and casualties.
No world was spared. All were tormented and invaded by terrifying daemons, mutants, or traitors.
Undoubtedly, the present Imperium had strayed far from the vision of the Emperor and the Primarchs, descending into the most horrific and desolate era.
The Imperium of yesteryears, built through the painstaking efforts of the Emperor and the Primarchs, was a golden age brimming with hope and triumph.
People had emerged from ignorance, embracing science and reason once again. The Imperial Expeditionary Forces had spread the Emperor's glory to every planet.
It was a beautiful era full of hope.
Having listened to Celestine, Calgar, and others' briefing on the current situation, Guilliman requested solitude under the guise of needing to be alone, asking them all to leave.
Standing by the shattered window, watching people outside the sanctuary move bodies, Guilliman let out a deep sigh.
"Horus, you truly are beyond forgiveness," he murmured.
The aftermath of Horus' betrayal still resonates, even after ten thousand years.
Once the first captain of the Sons of Horus Legion and the most loyal to Horus, Abaddon, became the new warlord of the Chaos Gods in the years after the Primarchs departed. He launched attack after attack on the Imperium.
In the enduring struggle and warfare of ten thousand years, the Imperium, in its bid for survival, gradually abandoned reason and the future, morphing into a bloated, absurd, ignorant, and brutal bureaucratic behemoth.
No shadow of reason or hope can be seen, only fear, hatred, and ignorance are keeping this gargantuan corpse alive!
Primarch Guilliman is an undoubted idealist. Even among his brothers, none hoped as fervently as he once did, for a bright future.
The memory of the flesh affects the soul and saddens it.
Humanity has had a hard ten thousand years, the small galaxy teeming with their enemies.
Both traitors and Chaos demons are plundering them ruthlessly, and races beyond the galaxy are attacking them relentlessly.
The state of humanity now can be said to be far inferior to the era of the Great Crusade.
Compared to the Golden Age, it is indeed tragic.
"A completely new plan is needed," Guilliman ponders, assisting the Imperium in winning against Chaos isn't just for mankind, but also for himself.
The Chaos Gods pay a high degree of attention to the Primarchs. If he fails, his soul will surely fall into their hands, and then, he would be unable to live or die, suffering torment eternally.
He cannot afford to lose; if he does, the consequences would be dire.
