City of the Holy Anthem, Upper Spire Heavy Landing Pad.
The Thunderhawk gunship began its descent.
This area had originally been a private landing zone for the hive nobility.
It was paved with expensive synth-stone, and heavily decorated observation spires had once surrounded it.
But now, the synth-stone was shattered into spiderweb patterns, and half of the spires had collapsed.
The ruins were littered with twisted metal debris and the yet-to-be-cleared corpses of the corrupted.
The air was thick with the mixed stench of sweet copper and charred rot—the smell of burning flesh and some lingering taint of corruption.
Even through their helmets, the Primarchs' superhuman senses caught every gruesome detail with absolute clarity.
Guilliman stepped off the ramp, his power boots crunching softly against the blackened ground.
He surveyed his surroundings, his ice-blue eyes scanning every scar left by the battle: the dense bullet holes peppering the walls, the craters melted into the deck by energy weapons.
A corpse, severed cleanly in half, was still slowly oozing purplish-blue pus...
"It seems a massive battle truly took place here."
Ferrus stood beside him. "Though the contamination levels are dropping, the residual readings remain extremely high. Mu-class... perhaps even bordering on Nu-class thresholds."
Guilliman nodded in agreement.
Just then, a pale golden light blossomed from atop a distant ruin.
The light wasn't blinding; rather, it carried a pure, sacred warmth.
The light coalesced, solidifying into a figure.
Sanguinius's pristine white wings beat gently, pushing away the drifting dust and ash.
Spreading his wings beneath the tainted sky, Sanguinius looked like a ray of dawn breaking through the absolute darkness.
In the blink of an eye, he crossed hundreds of meters, landing gracefully before his two brothers.
"Guilliman. Ferrus."
A warm smile graced his flawless features, and genuine joy shone within his amber-gold slit pupils as he looked upon his brothers.
Sanguinius stepped forward, opening his arms and pulling Guilliman into a fierce embrace.
"It is so good to see that you are safe," Guilliman clapped Sanguinius hard on the backplate, his ice-blue eyes filled with profound relief.
Though he already knew his brother was safe via vox, seeing him with his own eyes was a completely different feeling.
Ferrus stepped forward as well.
While his relationship with Sanguinius wasn't as close as Guilliman's, even the Lord of the Iron Hands couldn't maintain his cold facade in the face of the Imperium's perfect Great Angel.
"Your sons transmitted a distress signal with maximum urgency," Ferrus stated plainly. "We all believed you were being overwhelmed by enemies."
Sanguinius chuckled softly. "I nearly was. Three massive Warp entities, an Alpha-Plus class corrupted psyker, and over five billion tainted hive citizens..."
He paused, his smile fading slightly. "Had reinforcements not arrived, I likely would have been forced to initiate Exterminatus. But... thank you both for coming."
Sanguinius released his embrace, his gaze sweeping across his brothers' faces, deep gratitude reflected in his amber eyes.
"Though the immediate crisis has passed, the Blood Angels Legion will eternally remember this act of brotherhood," Sanguinius said.
"There is no need for such words between brothers," Guilliman waved his hand dismissively, immediately cutting to the chase. "I heard your commander, Azkaellon, mention over the vox that the Adeptus Custodes reinforced you?"
"Yes," Sanguinius nodded. He turned, gesturing for them to follow, and led the way deeper into the hive city. "A specially designated Custodes force, led by Tribune Demetrian Titus. They arrived six days ago and assisted me in slaying several massive Warp entities, thereby purging the primary sources of corruption."
The three brothers walked shoulder-to-shoulder through the ruins.
Blood Angels Astartes were scattered about, meticulously clearing the battlefield. Upon seeing three Primarchs appear simultaneously, many warriors halted their work, pounding their right fists against their left breastplates in salute.
Guilliman returned their salutes while continuing his inquiry. "And what of this Tribune Titus? Why haven't I seen him?"
Sanguinius didn't break his stride. "They have already departed."
Both Guilliman and Ferrus snapped their heads toward him.
"Departed?" Guilliman repeated. "They withdrew the moment the objective was complete? They didn't even request resupply? What about casualty reports? Post-action summaries?"
This completely defied standard protocol.
Any Imperial force, even the Custodes, was required to undergo a comprehensive post-action process after participating in a campaign of this scale.
Supply requisitions, casualty tallies, commendation verifications, the archiving of reports... these were the absolute foundational gears upon which the Imperial military machine turned.
Sanguinius came to a halt beneath a half-collapsed archway and turned to face his brothers.
His expression turned solemn, exuding the natural, sacred majesty befitting the Great Angel of the Imperium.
"Roboute. Ferrus," Sanguinius's voice was soft yet profoundly serious. "Before Tribune Titus departed, he left me with a message." He paused, repeating the words verbatim. "His Majesty the Emperor has entrusted me with an additional edict to convey. Upon the completion of the purification, a single squad of Blood Angels may remain garrisoned within this system to maintain order and prevent a resurgence of corruption. Afterward, Lord Sanguinius may seek a personal audience with His Majesty the Emperor. At that time, any and all questions may be posed to His Majesty directly."
Guilliman's pupils contracted sharply, and a flicker of light crossed Ferrus's eyes.
The two fell into a stunned silence.
Only the sporadic crack of bolter fire echoed in the distance.
After a long while, Guilliman finally spoke slowly. "So... this entire event was orchestrated by Father?"
"It appears so," Sanguinius nodded. "Tribune Titus informed me that, under the Emperor's direct orders, he brought the last surviving bloodline of House Alar to Aurelian IV to end the source of this planet's original sin."
"House Alar?" Guilliman rapidly searched his memory. "The psyker dynasty that was sent to the Black Ships eighty years ago?"
"The sole survivor, Sacken Alar, masqueraded as Garrison Conmo, the patriarch of House Conmo, and remained hidden for decades." Sanguinius's voice carried a complex mix of emotions. "He threw himself into the embrace of Warp entities and orchestrated this warp invasion and the one who purified him... was an eleven-year-old girl." He looked at Guilliman. "That little girl commands an entirely alien system of power. It is not psychic in nature, nor is it any known form of physical energy. She wields a staff that can summon the energy of moonlight to purge corruption."
Guilliman and Ferrus lapsed into silence once more.
The sheer volume of information was overwhelming.
The Adeptus Custodes suddenly appearing on a fringe world... acting on the Emperor's orders to deliver a little girl wielding unknown powers... resolving an issue left over from eighty years ago... and then vanishing the moment the deed was done...
And then there were those eight Legion Champions who had plundered thirteen hive cities.
Guilliman rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Those eight Champions... did you manage to identify them?"
Sanguinius shook his head. "No. They moved with terrifying speed. In five days, they swept through thirteen hive cities, slaughtered over seventy thousand garrison troops, and plundered resources totaling over fifty-eight billion Aurelian Coins. They left forged Departmento Munitorum requisition notices at every single hive, but the Munitorum has absolutely no record of any such orders." He paused, adding, "Furthermore, according to eyewitness accounts, those eight individuals wore the colors of at least eight different Legions. Imperial Fists, White Scars, Ultramarines, Iron Warriors, Salamanders... even the Sons of Horus, World Eaters, and Alpha Legion."
"So, which of your Ultramarines Champions has gone missing?" Sanguinius looked at Guilliman with an amused smile.
Guilliman's expression remained stern. "I will be looking into that once I return."
Ferrus let out a low, rumbling scoff. "Legion Champions do not engage in such petty thievery. Even if they did, eight of them from entirely different Legions would not coordinate such an act unless it was a direct order from Father."
The three brothers exchanged a glance, a shared sense of helpless resignation passing between them.
It was true. Only the Emperor could mobilize such an absurd lineup and orchestrate such a seemingly nonsensical yet intricately interlocked scheme.
"Plundering the hive storehouses, forcing me to investigate the City of the Holy Anthem, thereby pushing Sacken to expose himself and fall early... What was the ultimate goal of all this?"
"For a greater objective."
Guilliman spoke up suddenly. His voice was quiet, but it drew the immediate attention of both Sanguinius and Ferrus.
Guilliman recalled the Emperor's maneuvers he had witnessed over the years. To achieve a specific strategic goal, sacrificing an entire fleet, a whole planet, or even the population of an entire sector was not without precedent.
On the Emperor's grand chessboard, the lives and deaths of individuals—and even entire populations—were sometimes nothing more than expendable tokens.
"What Father sees has never been the gain or loss of a single planet, nor the life or death of billions of people. What he sees is the continued survival of the human race across the galaxy. He sees the threats to humanity lurking within the boundless cosmic void, the constraints placed upon our species by the Warp, and the deeper, unseen crises hiding beneath the surface."
While the three Primarchs understood and accepted the Emperor's methods for ensuring humanity's survival, that understanding didn't make those methods sit any better with them.
Sanguinius clearly shared this sentiment.
A flash of sorrow dimmed his amber-gold eyes.
But he quickly adjusted, returning to his warm smile. "Come, let me show you the battlefield. The cleanup operations in the mid and lower hives are still ongoing. We require your support."
The three continued their advance.
They passed through the ruins of the upper hive and descended down a massive corridor leading to the mid-levels.
The scars of battle here were far denser. The walls were heavily gouged by claws, riddled with bullet holes, and scorched black by energy blasts.
The severed limbs of the corrupted littered the floor, their purplish-blue blood long dried into a slick, grimy crust.
Blood Angels, operating in squads of three, were sweeping the levels floor by floor.
The roar of bolter fire echoed incessantly, punctuated by the horrific tearing sound of chainswords biting through flesh.
Guilliman noted that many of the Astartes' power armor bore deep claw marks, and in some cases, the ceramite plating had been completely melted through by corrosive slime.
Yet they fought on, their movements precise, their coordination flawless.
"The source of the corruption is a Warp rift deep within the underhive," Sanguinius explained as they walked. "It originally spanned over one hundred and forty meters in diameter. It has since been compressed by Tech-Priests and Techmarines using containment fields. However, a massive horde of the corrupted remains clustered around the rift. They are instinctively resisting its closure."
He looked at his brothers. "I need your support. Although the threat level has decreased, the number of the corrupted is still staggering, and they remain highly virulent. We must achieve absolute purification of this hive. Not a single corner or shadow can be left with any lingering taint."
His voice hardened. "This requires a massive deployment of manpower, as well as more Tech-Priests and Techmarines. My sons have been fighting continuously for over ten days. They need to rest, recuperate, and repair their wargear."
Guilliman and Ferrus nodded simultaneously.
"It is only right, brother," Guilliman said, his eyes flashing with resolve. "The Ultramarines have brought twenty-five companies. The sons of Macragge are ready to deploy immediately."
"The Iron Hands fleet will lock down the orbit to prevent anyone from escaping," Ferrus's voice was cold and resolute. "Additionally, I can deploy five companies for ground support, alongside fifty Techmarines to assist in sealing the rift."
A smile graced Sanguinius's face. "Thank you, brothers." He paused, looking directly at Guilliman. "Also... there is some intelligence regarding an organization on this world that I wish to share with you."
Guilliman raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You aren't about to mention this 'Crimson Dawn,' are you?"
Sanguinius glanced at Ferrus. "You actually told him already?"
Ferrus waved a hand. "That organization's governing philosophy mirrors how Guilliman manages the Five Hundred Worlds far too closely. It simply came up."
Sanguinius offered a helpless smile and turned back to Guilliman. "That organization is quite remarkable. While my sons were holding the line at another contaminated zone—the Aru Industrial Zone—they actually took the initiative to deploy a thirty-seven-thousand-strong PDF force to assist in the defense. While every other local faction on this planet was hesitating and stalling, they willingly suffered massive casualties to help my sons hold back the Warp abominations. Furthermore, they are currently running Kent Hive... surprisingly well."
Sanguinius's tone carried a hint of genuine admiration. "Order has been restored to the hive. The manufactorums operate on ten-hour shifts, and the workers receive fixed wages and medical benefits. The public scholae, which were shut down during the crisis, have reopened, and the medicae facilities are treating civilian patients free of charge." He looked at Guilliman. "Sounds an awful lot like the policies you push in the Five Hundred Worlds, doesn't it?"
Hearing Sanguinius's words, Guilliman immediately sensed that something was fundamentally amiss.
A local planetary organization had managed to simultaneously earn the admiration of both the Great Angel of the Imperium, Sanguinius, and the Master of the Iron Hands, Ferrus Manus.
Guilliman's fingers resumed their rhythmic tapping on his sword hilt as his mind raced.
Crimson Dawn.
The Adeptus Custodes suddenly arrive on this world to execute a highly classified mission for the Emperor.
And the Crimson Dawn just happens to be operating a societal model that completely contradicts traditional Imperial governance...
Is there a connection?
A bold conjecture flashed through Guilliman's mind: Is it possible that the Crimson Dawn is also part of Father's grand design? Is Father experimenting with some... new model of governance?
The thought left him both excited and deeply unsettled.
Excited because, if true, it meant the Emperor was finally considering how to improve the livelihoods of the common citizen, rather than solely focusing on endless war and conquest.
Unsettled because, if the Crimson Dawn was truly a pawn on the Emperor's board, then their ultimate fate was entirely out of their own hands. Their survival or destruction hinged entirely on the Emperor's whim.
Just like that young Alar girl, and the five billion hive citizens who had been sacrificed.
He didn't want to see an organization that shared his ideals be effortlessly swept away.
"Sanguinius," Guilliman finally spoke, his voice measured and calm. "Once the purification operations are well underway, I would like to visit Kent Hive."
Sanguinius seemed to have anticipated the request. He smiled and nodded. "Agreed. I will join you. This planet is currently under my Legion's protection, after all. I wish to see its true state for myself."
Ferrus also spoke up. "Then I will go as well. I was the one who authorized their administrative authority; I must ensure they haven't abused that power."
The three Primarchs of the Imperium of Man rapidly reached a consensus.
Guilliman looked toward the slowly shrinking Warp rift, and then cast his gaze further out, toward the direction of Kent Hive.
Crimson Dawn... what exactly are you?
Are you the practitioners of hope granted to the Imperial citizens by the Emperor... or just another hollow lie spouted by the corrupt and fallen?