This special strike team included not only Primarch Lorgar, but also many elite Noise Marines and some Word Bearers.
Most notable was Lucius, hidden among them. On his new master's orders, he infiltrated the strike and continuously relayed information to Rhodes—
Selling out his hastily assembled "teammates" completely.
The battle in space continued, while Rhodes dispatched Slaanesh Slayer to intercept.
He planned to deliver the extradimensional avatar to the Aeldari Death God to complete their bargain.
"Rhodes! Are you confident?" Guilliman approached and asked.
The battle overhead was brutally intense, but Fulgrim did not seem to be losing ground. Rhodes's subordinate was very strong—stronger than a Primarch.
Even fused with a cosmic beast, Guilliman could not claim a sure victory. Anyone wielding Chaos divinity—even half of it—existed on a higher tier than demigods like them.
That power could obliterate them.
In this fight, he could not even help.
"Relax. This time Fulgrim is as good as dead. If you're interested, you might as well go rescue your brother Corax," Rhodes said.
According to Lucius's intel, besides Lorgar, Fulgrim had captured another Primarch—the Raven Lord, Corax.
"He's been brought here too?" Guilliman asked.
"No. He's still in a cell Fulgrim prepared. You can go rescue him. I have the exact location. I can open a gate for you. Once you've got him, send me a message and I'll bring you back," Rhodes said.
"You can open a gate? So you could always find Fulgrim's lair. Then why set this trap?" Guilliman asked, baffled.
"Fulgrim is fusing with a Chaos godshard. In theory he's already a kind of undying being. You can't hold him in the Warp; he can relocate at any time. We had to draw him into realspace," Rhodes said, rolling his eyes.
If it were that simple, he wouldn't have had to orchestrate such a long setup to lure him here.
Guilliman nodded. At this moment, the Emperor's avatar was seized by the Emperor's will and spoke slowly.
"Guilliman. Go save your brother Corax. Leave this to me and Rhodes."
"Yes, Father. I'll go at once," Guilliman said, nodding to Rhodes.
He began assembling a strike team of a thousand, all Ultramarines—among them his most important gene-son, the famed Calgar.
Poor Calgar. After months fighting on the warning world, his gene-father finally arrived—only to send him straight back to work.
…
Minutes later, Guilliman brought the strike force to Rhodes.
Beside them, Tartarus used his special power to open a golden portal, sending the Imperial Regent to Fulgrim's lair.
A thousand Ultramarines followed their gene-father through the gate.
This time Fulgrim had committed his Slaanesh Chaos Marines, unaffiliated Chaos daemons who had joined him, and a horde of cultists—an all-out sortie—so his lair's defenses were thin.
Guilliman bore the Emperor's Sword and wore blue armor woven from the cosmic phantom beast's energy.
"My sons, with me—slay these Chaos traitors and rescue my brother!" he roared, leading his gene-sons into the Chaos lair.
"My battle-brothers, follow the gene-father! Kill the traitors!" Calgar charged after him.
"Follow the gene-father!" countless Astartes cried, storming the lair.
The few Chaos Marines left behind never imagined the Imperium would "backdoor" them.
A golden portal tore a slit between the Warp and realspace. Guilliman and a thousand Ultramarines formed up in perfect ranks.
"Remember our objective," Guilliman turned to his sons, the Emperor's Sword glowing blue in his hand.
"Rescue Corax. Exterminate the enemy. Accept no surrender. Leave no survivors."
Calgar stepped forward, scars on his Terminator armor gleaming bronze under the weird light. "For the Emperor!"
As the last Ultramarine crossed the portal, the sight even made seasoned veterans hold their breath.
They stood on a platform of living metal. In the distance, twisted spires bowed like giants wracked by agony.
Pink-violet mist hung in the air; every breath carried a cloying sweetness on the tongue.
It was the corruptive power of Slaanesh. Even away from his lair, Fulgrim had laid traps here.
"Do not breathe this taint. Stay close to me," Guilliman ordered, raising a golden energy barrier—using the cosmic Black Tortoise's power to form a purification that blessed his sons.
The phantom beast's power strongly countered Chaos. Ensuring his gene-sons would not be corrupted by Warp energy, Guilliman advanced.
He activated the beast-armor; crystalline blue plating flowed from neck to toe. Raising the Emperor's Sword: "Forward! Intel says the prison is in the third spire!"
This particular intel came from Lucius. Hopefully, it was true.
Moments after leaving the platform, the ground convulsed. Living metal rose in waves; dozens of Ultramarines toppled into yawning metallic maws.
Amid screams, Guilliman watched those warriors ground to pulp by gnashing metal teeth, their blood absorbed into the coursing veins of the floor.
The losses were so sudden even he was caught off guard. This planet was no ordinary place.
"The entire world is alive!" Calgar roared, smashing the ground with a power fist. The shockwave calmed the metal's frenzy—briefly.
Guilliman shed golden radiance, using the phantom beast's power to open a path.
"Move! This corridor won't hold for long!"
After forcing through three self-sealing gates…
Its walls were mosaicked with twisted human faces. As the Marines passed, the faces shrieked in unison.
Sonic waves hammered the passage. Five helmets burst; brains sprayed from every orifice.
"Sonic weapons! Cut auditory feeds!" A Librarian raised a psychic shield, a jade dome barely withstanding the second wave.
In the shadows danced lithe figures—Slaanesh Daemonettes plucking strange stringed instruments. Each stroke sent a fresh killing wave.
Calgar led the Terminators in a charge. Power fists crushed three Daemonettes, but more scantily armored Slaanesh warriors surged from the gloom to clash with the Ultramarines.
"For Macragge!" a mortally wounded Marine hurled himself into the foe; a melta charge blossomed blue-white, devouring half the hall.
Guilliman seized the breach. As the Emperor's Sword took the head of a Slaanesh champion, her seductive face still held a blissed smile.
Through the blood-slick gallery, they reached the central nexus, where seven Forges of Pain loomed.
Chained slaves tossed the living into boiling energy vats. In some, Guilliman saw Astartes remains; their power armor melted like candy shells.
"Blade of Delight, awaits," a androgynous voice cooed from a furnace top. A slender figure drifted down, six scimitars unfurling like a peacock's tail.
On landing, Guilliman saw clearly: a hermaphroditic horror, pearl skin studded with blinking eyes.
A Greater Daemon of Slaanesh.
"Come, a thousand pleasures," the mixed voice laughed. "You will smile as every drop of blood leaves you."
The foe struck faster than physics allowed, six blades scissoring from different angles for Guilliman's throat. The Emperor's Sword parried with ease.
Guilliman abruptly shifted forms; the sword lanced in at an uncanny angle—its trajectory as unpredictable as a supernova. The daemon shrieked and sprang back—three arms, blades and all, fell to the floor.
"Y-you—how—" it stared, flesh around the wound writhing.
"Because the Emperor's will surpasses all pleasure." Guilliman drove the blade home, piercing the daemon's heart.
Just a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh—what were you so smug about?
After removing the nuisance, Guilliman led his sons onward, cutting down countless Chaos foes.
Soon, guided by Lucius's intel, they reached Corax's prison.
The tower's interior was shockingly vast. An obsidian void-cage floated at center. Corax was pierced by eight Chaos chains, nailed to a cruciform within. The once-proud Raven Lord was gaunt, bare skin crawling with writhing tattoos.
As Guilliman approached, the tattoos opened—countless Slaanesh eyes. His brother had been tortured beyond recognition; worse, Slaanesh's power had corrupted him, transforming him into a Daemon Prince.
"Don't come closer!" Corax rasped, voice scarcely human. "I'm beyond saving. Kill me."
"Don't be absurd, Corax. I'm here to save you, not kill you."