Let us rewind time just a little, to the orbit of Trailblaze. A massive fleet stood ready and waiting. Aboard the flagship, the Hyperion, a dazzling golden light shone from within Zhou Ye's pupils.
The entire battleship began to tremble. It had been completely cleared of all personnel. The coming jump was simply too far, and there was no telling what might happen. Besides Zhou Ye, who was a Herrscher, and the Hyperion itself, which was in some ways equivalent to the Star Rail, no one else was permitted to be aboard.
Zhou Ye felt the world spin around him. Even after stabilizing, he was dizzy and disoriented. If even he felt this way, it was likely that no one else in this universe could withstand the strain of forcibly blazing a trail over such a distance.
"Is that the Vengeful Spirit?"
Zhou Ye then spotted Abaddon's flagship. But before he could say anything, the Vengeful Spirit had clearly spotted him as well. It slammed on the accelerator and fled.
A strategic advance as swift as the wind—truly befitting of Abaddon.
The sight left Zhou Ye momentarily stunned. He didn't give chase, however. He sensed something amiss from the planet below, a feeling of imminent danger. Taking a deep breath, he looked down. Was this Macragge? He thought it was Calth all over again.
With no time to deal with Abaddon, he ordered the entire fleet to jump. In the next instant, the people of Macragge witnessed thousands of golden lights converging in their sky.
Abaddon, who had already fled, watched the instantaneous assembly of the fleet and couldn't help but break into a cold sweat.
What kind of bizarre Primarch is this? Good thing he'd left quickly. Better to let a friend die than oneself. He'd let Khorne's and Slaanesh's minions bleed themselves dry against this new force. He didn't want to spend another second in Ultramar. With another push of the throttle, he plunged into the Immaterium.
He, Abaddon the Despoiler, had achieved a victorious strategic advance and preserved the strength of his forces, laying a solid foundation for his next great victory. He was ever-victorious, never-defeated.
---o---
Zhou Ye glanced at the now-scattered remains of Macragge's most popular new exhibit behind him, then at the crowded hall before him. He was a bit bewildered. Dark Angels, Space Wolves, Iron Hands, Imperial Fists, Grey Knights... What was going on? Did they have nothing better to do than all gather here?
Fortunately, he was quick on the uptake. Sensing the Golden Fiend's power about to manifest once more, he swiftly severed the psychic connection.
Before he could do anything else, however, he saw Lemont Icefang charging toward him like a puppy seeing its master. The Dreadnought was moving with such force that it simply disintegrated on the spot. Its components shattered, rolling past Zhou Ye in a clattering wave of miscellaneous parts. The main chassis of his Contemptor Dreadnought had already slammed face-first into the ground, its power claw still outstretched, a single digit pointing towards him in a pose reminiscent of a tragically fallen commander.
"Venerable Elder!!!"
The wolf pups let out howls of anguish, and several of them immediately rushed forward to try and piece him back together.
The scene left Zhou Ye stunned. Did the things he built have such a natural talent for comedy?
While he was still processing this, the Golden Fiend's power descended again. This time, it wasn't through the Living Saint Celestine, but through the Imperial Grey Knights. Simultaneously, his own Grey Knights teleported onto the battlefield even faster than his Honour Guard and...
"Father!!!"
The Imperial Grey Knights charged towards him as well. Seeing this, Zhou Ye almost swore out loud.
But there was no time to react. Two beams of light crashed back into the hall. The fallen Primarch Fulgrim and the King of Carnage Angron charged at him simultaneously. With no time for words, Zhou Ye became a rampaging juggernaut and charged to meet them, only to see a blue-armored figure get in his way.
At the same time, Marneus Calgar, having just fought his way out of a horde of Bloodletters, was sent flying again before he could even reorient himself. He was slapped aside once more, this time embedding himself in a nearby wall. This impact, at least, didn't cause any serious injury. From his new perch, Calgar watched as a black-and-gold figure burst from the shrine, taking the other two behemoths with him.
The three dazzling lights—pink, red, and black-gold—collided and smashed directly into the monstrous horde. He watched as the waves of pink and red daemons parted before them. Not a single lesser daemon dared to approach the trio. From the moment Zhou Ye had appeared, the daemons had felt a terrifying tremor in their very souls. Though they didn't know the cause, they decided killing Guilliman was still the main objective.
"ROOOOAR!!!"
Angron had no idea what was happening. To him, the being before him was not a man, but a radiant, golden-red sun. Its searing light filled him with an instinctual loathing. He had to destroy it. At that moment, the power of the Blood God descended, and the crimson aura around Angron solidified. Unfortunately for him, Khorne only sent power this time; since he couldn't perceive Zhou Ye, he couldn't act directly.
But...
CLANG!!!
In the next instant, Zhou Ye sent Angron flying with a single blow, his own arm trembling involuntarily from the impact. With a Chaos God's direct intervention, Angron's power had increased significantly.
"Join us!!!"
Through Angron's crimson eyes, Zhou Ye saw a palace of blood and fire. In its center was a mountain of skulls, upon which sat a figure in ornate armor and a bizarre helmet.
"Boring!!!"
Zhou Ye clashed with Angron again. There was no technique, only a brutal contest of pure physical strength. Blows that could shatter continents were absorbed by both combatants before they clashed once more. Zhou Ye had to admit, the Khorne-possessed Angron was the strongest single opponent he had ever faced, bar none. And there was no point in trying to use any of his Authorities on him; Angron was currently in a state where brute force negated all esoteric powers.
Back in Guilliman's shrine, one of the Trailblaze Grey Knights stepped forward. He was a Techmarine. While they did have vehicles, their tactic of deep-striking directly into the enemy's core was ill-suited for bringing them along.
In many Chapters, Techmarines were not fully accepted and remained on the periphery of the core brotherhood. They spent their years tending to vehicles, and while their brothers respected them, they were never truly close. Honors and glory largely passed them by as they toiled in the rear. Only when the Chapter faced annihilation would they get a chance to see the front lines.
Of course, the Techmarines in Zhou Ye's legions had no such problems. They received advanced training at the Mechanicus Academies, and their origins were the same as their other brothers—they were all top students from their respective academies who passed the trials and were genetically compatible. The Grey Knights were no exception. Their duty was to soothe machine spirits, but since the Grey Knights rarely used vehicles, they almost always deployed to the battlefield. Their reliance on Star Rails for face-first charges made vehicle transport impossible.
Thus, as a Techmarine, he carried Zhou Ye's standard-issue equipment: a set of four Omni-Repair Modules.
Seeing the fallen Contemptor Dreadnought, he beckoned a few Space Wolves over. They gathered the larger scattered pieces, and the Techmarine slapped an STC template onto the wreckage, completely repairing it in an instant.
Watching this, even Belisarius Cawl, himself a heretek of the Machine Cult, felt his brow twitch uncontrollably.
"Waaaah... My Lord... Pups... ATTACK!!!"
Lemont Icefang looked at his fully restored body, his voice thick with tears. He immediately rallied the stunned wolf pups and charged out of the shrine, crashing headlong into the oncoming tide of Khornate Bloodletters and Slaaneshi Daemonettes.
The battlefield instantly devolved into a chaotic three-way melee. The Bloodletters seemed even more eager to attack the Daemonettes than they were to chop up Imperial Astartes. In a flash, the battle descended into utter chaos.
"In the Father's name, slay all heretics!!!"
The Trailblaze Grey Knights charged out, reinforcing the battle line of the Imperial Grey Knights who were still reeling from the psychic backlash caused by Fulgrim.
Just then, a massive Stormbird gunship hovered over the shrine. Everyone watched as four figures, each over three meters tall and clad in armor resembling that of the Custodes, smashed down onto the battlefield. With them came three thousand Honour Guard in artificer power armor, wielding master-crafted weapons.
Their voices, however, carried a distinct tone of tearful complaint...
"My Lord, wait for us!!!"
The Honour Guard didn't even give Calgar a chance to speak, charging directly through the daemon tide towards the chaotic center of the battlefield.
"So that is your Ultramarines' successor chapter," Asmodai's voice purred in Calgar's ear. "Hmm, they look more like a Legion."
The comment made Calgar's face darken. The Trailblaze Chapter... looking at them now, they weren't a Chapter at all. They were a full-fledged Legion. Heh, our successor chapter is a Legion. How interesting.
The war now raged in every corner of Macragge. They had been unprepared—or rather, no one could have possibly prepared for two Daemon Primarchs to drop onto their heads with entire armies. In such a situation, any amount of preparation would have felt futile. The entire world was bleeding. In the city district where Guilliman's shrine was located, hordes of daemons were on the move. The Planetary Defence Forces didn't know which way to fire, as daemons were attacking from every direction. They could only hunker down in buildings and fire out.
The citizens of Macragge were bleeding, but they were not dying meekly. This was not Cadia, but as the millennia-old homeworld of the sons of Guilliman, the martial spirit of its people was beyond question. Everyone grabbed whatever they could and fought back against the daemons of Chaos, and against the comrades who had suddenly turned on them in a frenzy. Such is the nature of a Chaotic invasion. Once it starts, you never know who is truly on your side.
In a small room, a family of several people huddled together, trembling.
"Daddy, there are people whispering in my ear... Daddy, I'm so scared!" A little girl, no more than seven or eight years old, clutched at the trouser leg of a middle-aged man. The man was holding a lasgun, facing a towering crimson figure—a Khornate Bloodletter had found them and was charging.
"Child, call out the Emperor's name! For Macragge, for the Imperium of Man, I will not retreat!" the man gritted out. A mad voice was screaming in his own mind, urging him to offer everything to the Blood God, to present the skulls of his family to gain endless power and glory.
But...
"His Will be done!!!"
With those four simple words, the voices in the family's minds vanished. The man shuddered and collapsed limply to the floor.
A black-and-gold Space Marine, his armor inscribed with passages from the Lectitio Divinitatus, descended from above. The great maul in his hand glowed with holy light as he faced the Bloodletter.
"Daddy, it's the Emperor's Angels!!!" the little girl cried excitedly, tugging on her father's leg. She saw flashes of light in the sky as more giant figures landed all around their position.
One by one, the colossal warriors crashed into the chaotic mass of daemons. Zhou Ye's Ninth Company—a mixed company of Ultramarines and Word Bearers gene-seed—had arrived on the battlefield.
"Macragge... I've returned," a Redeemer Dreadnought within the company sighed, looking out at the ruined streets and burning city. They had been sons of Macragge, adrift for decades, and had finally come home.
He then unleashed his power, cleansing the daemons around him. The Word Bearers, in their original design, were created to fight daemons. It was a strange twist of fate that now, they were finally fulfilling their intended purpose. The daemons in the area were swiftly purged.