Macragge.
The wind in the Valley of Laphonis was dry and piercing as it swept across the craggy rock faces. At this moment, the system's star hung high in the sky, pouring its fierce, pure light unreservedly onto the rolling, majestic mountains, gilding the Fortress of Hera at the end of the valley in a dazzling white-gold.
Meanwhile, a peculiar procession was moving along the broad valley road. At the core of the group were five visitors, surrounded by a ring of moving fortresses—elite Ultramarines who outnumbered them dozens of times over.
Adam noticed Sybilla, at his side, was focused on writing in a thick, silver-edged book. The tip of her quill scratched across the paper with a faint rustling sound.
"What are you doing?" he asked, somewhat curious.
Hearing this, Sybilla looked up. "Lord Adam, I am making a historical record. Today is a day that deserves to be remembered in the history of the Empire. I feel deeply honored to be a common footnote in this epic."
Her voice was clear, carrying slightly through the silent, marching line. Beside them, the Custodian Leonardo let out a nearly inaudible cold snort.
"I, for one, feel this is just an ordinary day. A Primarch, nothing more."
For Leonardo and many of the Custodes, they had always harbored complex and subtle emotions toward the Primarchs. He had studied The Master of Mankind by Diocletian deeply, knowing the Emperor's process and expectations in creating the Primarchs, while also feeling bone-deep sorrow and regret for the Great Rebellion that had eternally trapped the Emperor upon the Golden Throne.
"Watch your words, Custodian!" Agemann, Captain of the Ultramarines First Company, snapped his head around. His brow was furrowed, his tone fierce. "You are being disrespectful to our Genetic Father!"
Leonardo merely snorted again, ending the brief confrontation. Agemann glared at him, but ultimately, under a silent gesture from Calgar, he suppressed his rage and returned to the vanguard.
After this minor interlude, the group entered the interior of the Fortress of Hera. Intricate, seemingly endless marble staircases and grand corridors formed a complex labyrinth. Every turn hid defense nodes garrisoned by heavy guards. Under the guidance of the Ultramarines, they finally reached the destination of their journey—the massive, heavy, and grand doors of the Temple of Hera.
Led by Calgar and Chief Librarian Tigurius personally, the large crowd poured into the sanctuary. Even the well-traveled Adam looked up slightly at this moment, showing an unmasked expression of interest.
The scale of the sanctuary was beyond imagination. The dome of the vaulted hall was as high as the firmament, tall enough for a Titan to stride through with its head held high. The pouring Ultramarines—whether Honor Guard, Terminator veterans, or more fully armed Space Marines—did not seem crowded in this vast space.
Above the dome, every inch of sight was covered by grand murals—an epic tapestry of the Ultramarines Legion pieced together from various rare minerals. Great braziers burning with ionic flames climbed up the towering stone pillars, their light reflecting off every statue and mural, making them look magnificent and lifelike. A crisp scent permeated the air, adding to the sacred and solemn atmosphere.
However, all this beauty and splendor was merely a backdrop. At the end of their vision, atop dozens of broad steps, sat a throne. Upon that throne sat a giant, silent and still.
Roboute Guilliman.
The Primarch of the XIII Legion, the founder and ruler of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar. His head hung low, his posture like the most perfect classical statue, yet radiating a heartbreaking silence. Most striking was the wound at his neck, within which congealed blood seemed to still flow slightly, refracting a soul-stirring brilliance and sorrow under the sanctuary lights.
The sight was too sacred, too heavy, causing everyone who stepped into the sanctuary to fall into an involuntary silence, as if any sound would be a desecration.
Ultimately, it was Adam who broke the dead silence. He looked around, his gaze scanning everything, his tone carrying a strange, almost disappointed surprise.
"How... did we get here so smoothly?" He rubbed his chin. "I thought a Greater Daemon of the Warp would suddenly spawn halfway, or at least here, to jump out and stop us."
As soon as he spoke, almost everyone who heard him felt speechless. A few Ultramarines' power armor joints even emitted faint clicks due to sudden muscle tension.
Calgar let out a deep, heavy breath. He felt he was starting to get used to this "Terran Noble's" words and actions that made one's sanity teeter on the edge. He was becoming desensitized.
The Chapter Master's massive frame slowly turned toward Adam, the crimson bionic eye on his left flickering. He asked in a deep voice that echoed in the empty sanctuary:
"Well then, Lord Adam. Now, will you inform us exactly what method you intend to use to 'heal' our Genetic Father?"
A customary smile appeared on Adam's face. "You'll find out very soon."
No way, right? You didn't really think I would honestly wait for you all to discuss and reach a conclusion, did you?
Wait, what? Oh no!
Almost at the exact moment Adam finished speaking, Calgar's battle-hardened intuition screamed an alarm!
"All units, on guard—!"
His roar was only halfway out when it stalled. In the next instant, psychic energy as violent as a supernova explosion erupted without warning from within the group!
The source was the seemingly ordinary Inquisitor Sybilla. Her eyes were no longer their usual azure; instead, they burst with brilliant psychic lightning capable of piercing the veil of reality!
The peerless, violent psychic wave centered on her, turning into a visible azure tide that instantly swept through every corner of the Temple of Hera!
Time seemed to be forcibly paused. Total silence fell.
All the Ultramarines—whether drawing guns, charging, or activating weapons—had their movements frozen in mid-air. The fired bolter shells suspended in space, the teeth of chainswords stopped spinning, and the glow of power fists turned static.
It was a Time-Stop spell!
No! Calgar roared in his mind. As a Chapter Master, his iron will was enough to grant him some immunity to this terrifying psychic art, and he began to move within the stagnation. The bolter-mounted power fist spat tongues of fire at incredible speed, firing a massive barrage of bolts at the enemy.
However, those whistling bolts were completely useless, hanging in the air a few meters away like decorations embedded in transparent resin.
Calgar's pupils shrank. What kind of terrifying psychic power was this? Alpha-level? No... this felt far beyond the records! Could she be a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch wearing human skin?
Suddenly—
Calgar felt like a small insect trapped in amber. Every joint was locked tight, unable to move. Wait, this didn't seem like a psychic effect.
Calgar widened his eyes as he saw Adam walk out slowly. Adam gave him a calm wave, and the state of the air seemed to change. Despair appeared in Calgar's heart. At the thought of his Genetic Father behind him and the unimaginable desecration to follow, Calgar felt agonizing pain.
No, we have one last resort! He struggled to look back.
Brother Tigurius was one of the most powerful Librarians among the Astartes. If he could counter this psychic spell, he could free the battle-brothers, and there might still be a chance!
However, Calgar's eyes met Tigurius's. The latter shook his head at him and spoke:
"Lord Adam, proceed."
"Naturally."
Adam stepped forward calmly toward the throne where Guilliman sat. As he walked, spatial portals opened one after another at his side, and figures stepped out from them.
Calgar's lingering hope finally died.
I, Marneus Calgar, am truly the shame of the Ultramarines...
In his grief, he didn't even notice that the Ultramarines stepping out of the portals were all casting looks of pity toward him.
Adam ignored everything behind him. He simply reached out his hand slowly toward the giant before him.
"Be resurrected, my Guilliman-kun!"