In the long corridor leading deep into the Imperial Palace, the clamor of the outside world was sealed away by heavy adamantine gates. Only the rhythmic sound of footsteps and the low hum of power armor servo-systems echoed beneath the magnificent vaulted ceiling.
Guilliman deliberately slowed his pace by half a step to walk alongside Adam, who was disguised as an attendant.
"Regarding what just happened, I must thank you for your timely reaction." Guilliman's voice was very low, audible only to the two of them, as he stared straight ahead at the seemingly endless, ornate gallery. "Using your abilities, you averted a political storm that could have been triggered by a heretic's mad ramblings. Even if the words themselves were absurd, seeds of doubt sometimes only need a madman's shout and an ignorant audience to take root."
He turned his head slightly, glancing at Adam. A trace of complex emotion flickered across his habitually serious face. "This makes me... change my view of you."
Previously, the impressions Adam had left on Guilliman were perhaps too... unconventional. Though it felt highly inappropriate, it had even caused Guilliman to associate him with a certain Primarch who had fallen to Tzeentch.
"In any case, it seems now that you are more reliable than I imagined."
"What's the big deal?" Adam's face still bore that faint smile, but his transmission rang directly in Guilliman's mind. "What we say in private is one thing, but letting a Tzeentch worshipper compose a 'Guilliman Heresy' apocrypha in front of all the Terran nobility? That would have been far too unseemly."
The corner of Guilliman's mouth twitched imperceptibly. However, he was now more focused on the substantive information being conveyed.
"That said, we need to stay sharp from here on out," Adam's tone became a bit more serious. "It's clear that the Chaos Powers behind the curtain are ready to make their move. That Tzeentch worshipper was just an omen."
Guilliman's expression sharpened instantly. "I have never underestimated the storm my return might trigger. Whether from enemies in the Warp or the real universe."
"...Then you might still be underestimating the significance of it," Adam said calmly. "A living Primarch walking the real universe again is a searing eyesore, especially to those traitorous brothers wallowing in the corruption of the Warp. Killing you, or... pulling you into the same abyss they inhabit, would not only remove a major threat but also serve as the ultimate validation of their betrayal of the Emperor. It is a twisted craving they simply cannot refuse."
He paused and continued, "And those Chaos Gods will likewise not tolerate a massive unstable variable like you interfering with or even destroying their carefully woven 'Grand Plan'."
"...Grand Plan?" Guilliman's brow furrowed. His pace didn't falter, but his entire attention was focused on the information Adam was about to reveal. "What kind of plan?"
"Cadia. Or rather, the Fall of Cadia," Adam uttered the name. "You will soon hear this name repeatedly from various channels. In the near future, it will become the critical turning point for the fate of the galaxy."
Seeing the sudden tension pooling on Guilliman's face, Adam explained, "I'll give you a comprehensive report on the details once we leave the Palace. For now, you only need to know that the fall of Cadia won't just be about losing a fortress world."
"It will drastically weaken the veil between the real universe and the Warp, causing demons to flood into realspace like a tide, on a scale never seen before."
Guilliman's breathing heavy slightly, but he forcibly controlled his emotions and asked in a deep voice, "How much time do we have? How do we stop it?"
"First, don't be too nervous," Adam's tone softened, carrying a hint of assured victory. "First, those Warp gods aren't entirely sure if we know yet. Theoretically, there's still a window of nearly a hundred years before that great upheaval; they still have some patience. Furthermore, a trend involving the entire galaxy is not something a single individual—even a Primarch—can easily overturn alone, and they know this well."
"Finally, and most importantly," Adam's voice was firm, "The Emperor and I are not unprepared. Regarding Cadia, I have already made some deployments. For example, an Eternity Gate has been secretly established there, and a significant number of elite Custodes are stationed at Cadia and surrounding key nodes. We will ensure Cadia stands firm."
Guilliman looked deeply at Adam, a flash of contemplation in his eyes. He truly hadn't expected the other party to act so swiftly.
"But for now, it seems certain that the Chaos Gods have prepared a grand 'welcome ceremony' for you on Terra," Adam changed the subject, his tone somewhat helpless. "You understand, Terra is... well, you know how it is."
As the center of human civilization, humans from countless worlds across the galaxy flooded to this planet. Trying to ensure total safety in such a place and screening out every possibility of Chaos infiltration was an unimaginably difficult task.
"I understand," Guilliman nodded, heavily acknowledging this reality.
After their brief exchange, they continued to navigate the hopelessly vast labyrinth of the Imperial Palace. They passed through gate after gate inscribed with Imperial history and holy symbols, walking through corridors so long they caused even a Primarch a hint of fatigue.
Finally, they arrived at the end of their journey, the absolute core of the Imperium in every sense—the entrance to the Throneroom.
The massive golden doors of the Throneroom stood before them. Below them was a path paved with ancient stone slabs, their smooth surfaces polished by the footsteps of countless generations of fanatical pilgrims from every corner of the galaxy. On either side were galleries hundreds of meters high, decorated with exquisite but somewhat somber and dim reliefs; the weight of ages only added to their inviolable solemnity.
Great black marble archways embraced a wide celestial stair extending upward, with countless footprint indentations left on every step. And at the end of those stairs, before the golden doors symbolizing the presence of the Emperor himself, stood twenty Custodes, motionless like golden statues.
The leader was none other than the current Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, Trajann Valoris. He wore Terminator plate that was heavier and more refined than that of an ordinary Custodian, a crimson cloak draped from his pauldrons. His aura was as majestic as a mountain, his cold gaze looking down upon the procession ascending the steps.
Roboute Guilliman strode forward through the path spontaneously opened by the crowd. Excited believers and pilgrims crowded both sides of the path, many reaching out trembling hands, desperate to touch the Primarch's blue armor—symbolizing legend and hope—even if their fingertips only brushed through the cold air.
The group finally crossed through the boiling crowd and reached the base of the celestial stairs. Guilliman looked up, his gaze meeting Trajann's in mid-air.
The solemn, ancient protocol of audience began. In an atmosphere of near-frozen gravity, Guilliman followed the procedure, announcing his identity and purpose in a loud, clear voice—the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, requesting an audience with his father, the Master of Mankind, the Emperor upon the Golden Throne.
Tens of thousands of pilgrims and officials gathered inside and outside the sanctum held their breath at the same moment. The vast space fell into absolute silence.
The Custodes engaged in a series of swift, silent communications. Finally, Trajann made the decision. He took a step forward, his voice echoing in the silent sanctum:
"Access granted, Lord Roboute Guilliman."
Then, Trajann's gaze bypassed Guilliman and landed on the figure dressed in ordinary attendant clothing who had been following low-profile behind him.
"And, one attendant designated by the Custodes."
All gazes instantly snapped toward Adam like spotlights. Those looks were filled with shock, disbelief, unutterable complexity, and envy that almost overflowed.
Adam seemed stunned by this sudden designation. He blinked, a look of clear bewilderment appearing on his face for the first time. He raised a finger to point at himself and asked in an uncertain tone:
"Huh? Me?"
"I have to go in too?"
The Captain-General of the Custodes nodded as if it were a matter of course. "Yes."