Macragge, Leviathan Complex.
When the crimson fleet emerged from the Warp translation point, the alarm systems across the entire military dockyard emitted a simultaneous, low hum.
The warship formation of the Blood Angels Legion slowly coasted into Macragge's orbital defense perimeter in a standard cruising formation.
The Red Tear led the vanguard.
On the bow of the ten-kilometer-long flagship, the aquila emblem gleamed brilliantly under the stellar light. The crimson hull was scarred with the marks of countless campaigns. Every scorch mark was a victory, every crater a piece of history.
Following closely behind were dozens of strike cruisers and escort frigates.
The crimson torrent of steel resembled a moving sea of blood as it slowly pulled into the military docks of the Leviathan Complex.
The Ultramarines crew stationed at the port stood at their posts, staring out the viewports at the approaching fleet.
Someone gulped visibly. "That's..."
"...the Blood Angels."
"The Ninth Legion's fleet. Led personally by Primarch Sanguinius."
A unit supervisor of the Leviathan Complex nearby lowered his voice. "I heard they just finished an extermination campaign in the Gamma Sector and came straight here."
"In such a rush?"
"Who knows? Best not to blindly guess at the affairs of the Imperium's Primarchs. Knowing too much won't do us any good."
The docking platform in Military Dockyard D-66 was fully prepared. Massive mechanical arms slowly extended, precisely guiding the Red Tear into position.
When the hull of the gargantuan flagship fully locked onto the docking clamps, the entire dockyard shuddered slightly.
Then, the hatch opened.
Golden light poured out from within.
Sanguinius slowly descended the boarding ramp.
His golden power armor gave off a soft luster under the dockyard's floodlights. The folded, pristine white wings on his back twitched slightly, every feather looking like the purest snowflake.
His flawless face bore absolutely no expression. Yet, those pale, amber-gold eyes swept over the sea of people waiting to welcome him.
Marius Gage stood at the very front of the reception line. The First Captain of the Ultramarines wore his iconic blue power armor. He slammed his right fist against his breastplate, the deafening clang of metal echoing through the dock.
"Marius Gage, First Captain of the Ultramarines, acting on behalf of Primarch Roboute Guilliman, welcomes Lord Sanguinius, Primarch of the Blood Angels Legion, to Macragge!"
Behind him, hundreds of Ultramarines saluted in unison. The movement was perfectly synchronized, like a single entity.
Sanguinius gave a slight nod. It was a subtle gesture, yet everyone present felt the acknowledgment radiating from the Primarch.
Azkaellon and Raldoron followed closely behind him, both wearing the signature crimson power armor of the Blood Angels. Azkaellon's gaze swept over the Ultramarines, a fleeting, imperceptible trace of complex emotion flashing deep in his pupils. Raldoron, however, maintained his usual steady demeanor, as if everything was perfectly under control.
Marius Gage stepped forward, his tone respectful and warm. "Lord Sanguinius, my father, Primarch Guilliman of the Ultramarines, is currently waiting for your arrival in the Hall of Truth at the Fortress of Hera." He stepped aside, making a gesture of invitation. "Please follow me. The orbital elevator has been prepped. You will arrive at the peak of Hera in no more than an hour..."
"That won't be necessary." Sanguinius's calm voice cut Marius off.
Marius froze for a moment.
Sanguinius looked at him, nothing but absolute calm in his pale gold eyes. A calm so profound it was almost unsettling.
"Inform Guilliman," Sanguinius continued, his voice remaining even. "I will wait for him here." He paused, then added, "He has half a day. Once he is ready, we depart straight for Aurelian IV."
With those words, Sanguinius turned and walked back toward the Red Tear. His golden cape swept in an elegant arc behind him.
Azkaellon and Raldoron followed immediately. The three figures vanished into the hatch.
The massive door slowly closed with a deep, mechanical hum.
Marius Gage stood rooted to the spot, still holding his inviting gesture, completely petrified. Behind him, the Ultramarines exchanged bewildered glances, their faces etched with confusion.
It took several seconds before Marius slowly lowered his hand. He took a deep breath, turning to look at the Astropath beside him.
His eyes were practically screaming, What are you staring at? Hurry up and tell my father!
The Astropath immediately closed his eyes, and psychic ripples began to surge around him.
Meanwhile, the Ultramarines behind Marius began to murmur among themselves.
"Is Lord Sanguinius... in a bad mood?"
"No shit, did you see his face? It was practically iced over."
"But I thought our father and Lord Sanguinius were on really good terms?"
"Being on good terms doesn't mean they never get mad. Haven't you heard about what happened twenty-three years ago? Sanguinius showed up on Macragge completely out of the blue... and then dragged our father away in a huge rush. When they came back, they both looked completely furious... Who knows..."
"Shhh! Shut up! Are you trying to get executed for spouting that kind of nonsense?!"
The whispers died instantly.
--
At the same time, the regional chat channel for the Blood Angels fleet, [Light of the Imperium], was absolutely blowing up.
Inside a logistics warehouse on one of the cruisers, several players wearing Imperial Auxilia uniforms were squatting in a corner. Above their heads, golden IDs stood out starkly in the dim lighting.
[Who Dares Sue the Magistrate]: "Holy shit, bros, what is going on???"
[Baal's Twinkling Stars]: "What's the situation??"
[Nurgle Mess Hall Sergeant]: "We just finished a planetary extermination in the Gamma Sector, rushed tens of lightyears to Macragge, and we don't even get shore leave orders?"
[Who Dares Sue the Magistrate]: "Exactly! I wanted to check out Macragge!! If just the Leviathan Complex is this insane, what's the actual planet like?? It's the capital of Guilliman's Five Hundred Worlds!!"
[We Blood Magpies Never Steal]: "Right?! I even looked up guides beforehand. They said Macragge has the best food districts in the entire Imperium, top-tier entertainment facilities..."
[Baal's Twinkling Stars]: "Get real. With our Imperial Auxilia status, even if we got onto Macragge, we'd be stuck in the Underhive."
[Nurgle Mess Hall Sergeant]: "The Underhive is fine too! At least it's the Underhive of the capital of Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds. It's gotta be way better than the garbage planets we've been stuck on!"
[Who Dares Sue the Magistrate]: "Weren't Guilliman and Sanguinius supposed to be super tight? Why does the Great Angel look so pissed off?"
[We Blood Magpies Never Steal]: "No idea. I feel like Sanguinius has been like this ever since we finished the Gamma Sector campaign. I wouldn't say he's angry, but it's just... weird."
[Who Dares Sue the Magistrate]: "Fuck me, if I didn't want to stay in the Blood Angels Legion to farm Imperial Coins, I'd just kill myself, respawn, and sneak into Macragge!"
[Nurgle Mess Hall Sergeant]: "Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how tight the security is on Leviathan? To even get to the orbital elevator for Macragge, you have to pass three security checkpoints, two identity verifications, and a psychic scan. With our Imperial Auxilia status, there's zero chance."
[Baal's Twinkling Stars]: "So what do we do?"
[Nurgle Mess Hall Sergeant]: "Unless you plan on free-falling from Leviathan all the way down to Macragge, just save it."
[Baal's Twinkling Stars]: "..."
--
Fortress of Hera, Hall of Truth.
Guilliman sat in the high seat, listening to the message relayed by the Astropath.
A flash of helpless resignation crossed the depths of his ice-blue eyes as he stared into the void. He slowly stood up and walked over to the massive floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside lay the magnificent scenery of Hera's peak. A sea of clouds churned far below, while the distant Magna Macragge Civitas gleamed gold under the setting sun.
"It's been over twenty years, my dearest brother." Guilliman's voice was soft, laced with a sigh. "You really still care that much, don't you?"
He turned to look at the figure standing below the dais.
Tylos Rubio, Chief Librarian of the Ultramarines, stood there with his spine ramrod straight. He wore the robes of a Librarian, deep blue fabric embroidered with stars and lightning bolts.
"Rubio," Guilliman said evenly. "Prepare yourself. We depart."
Rubio struck his right fist against his chest. "Yes, Father!"
Guilliman strode toward the exit of the Hall of Truth, his golden cape snapping sharply behind him.
As he reached the doorway, he suddenly paused and glanced back at the colossal statue of the Emperor. The statue gazed down at him with half-lidded eyes, its flawless face completely devoid of expression.
"Over twenty years ago, we were turned back by Warp storms," Guilliman murmured, almost to himself. "This time, we should finally make it."
He turned and strode briskly out of the Hall of Truth.