Chapter 338: Guilliman – Time to Support My Good Brother!

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Vmmm—

Eden activated a warp-gate powered by the Light of Hope, returning with Dante to the Dreamweaver's bridge.

The Necrons had betrayed them at the last moment—teleporting away and attempting to detonate the gas giant Eros in hopes of destroying the Savior and humanity's forces in one stroke.

Unfortunately for them—

They failed.

Not only had Eden made it back, but all units had successfully evacuated, with the fleets now hidden on the far side of the planet.

The Dreamweaver, last to depart, was now slipping into position behind the world's shadow.

"They're coming…"

Eden stared out through the bridge's viewing dome. A massive shadow slowly crept across the Hades System—

The claws of the Great Devourer stretching through the void, smothering the stars.

He could feel it in his bones—

A crushing pressure radiated by the Hive Mind itself, so overwhelming it made even him tremble.

Vast bio-forms capable of blanketing entire systems.

They could crush any army with their numbers alone.

But—

There was an answer.

And that answer was vengeance.

Right then—

The Grand Prism unleashed its fury.

Its searing beam scoured the surface of Frdia, leaving a vast black trench of annihilation.

But that was only the beginning.

The beam continued—

Blasting through multiple planets before angling off Laesius, heading straight toward Eros.

In orbit around Eros—

The Leviathan Hive Fleet had arrived.

Thousands upon thousands of Tyranid bio-ships filled the starfield.

Sensing danger, the Hive Queen frantically pushed its swarm forward—

Flesh-tentacles, carapaces, and organic spires surged to create a shield wall above Eros.

It rallied more ships to form a living barrier—

But it was too late.

Before the wall could fully form—

The Grand Prism's beam slipped through the gaps and struck Eros's core—

Following a path carved by the refinery drills of the human-Necron alliance.

In an instant—

Eros twisted and imploded—

Then violently exploded.

BOOOOOM—

The gas giant tore itself apart in a blast of unimaginable heat.

Nearby Tyranid vessels were instantly consumed—

Charred into floating blackened chunks of meat.

The shockwave rippled across the entire Hades System—

Igniting planet after planet.

The Leviathan fleet writhed and screamed—

Even the Warp itself felt the echo of their agony.

Billions of bioforms and spore pods were vaporized.

The Hive Fleet Leviathan was nearly annihilated.

Back in orbit over Frdia—

The Dreamweaver emerged slowly from the planet's shadow.

Below, the once-living world was now ashen and dead.

On the bridge—

Eden stood silently, hands behind his back, bathed in the blood-red light reflecting off the scorched world.

The Hades System had turned crimson.

A color of fire. Of ruin.

"Our plan worked..." he finally said—

But there was no joy in his voice.

Moments ago, an entire star system had died by his hand.

Yes, they'd evacuated most of their troops.

But in forgotten places, people must have perished.

Those who never made it to safety.

This—

Wasn't victory.

It was desperation.

"It was a necessary sacrifice," Dante said quietly.

"You did all that could be done. Billions are still alive today because of you."

He tried to reassure the Savior.

Because he knew—

Eden's heart must remain steadfast.

If he faltered now, humanity's future could crumble.

Eden exhaled deeply.

"Yes... Life is the Emperor's coin.

If only we could spend less of it."

In his view, the root cause was simple—

Mankind's firepower was still not enough.

They needed to grow stronger.

To build more weapons of war.

But there was no time to dwell.

He patted Dante's shoulder and turned.

"Come. We need to head back to Baal."

But the void was not done yet.

The Leviathan swarm stirred once more.

The surviving bio-ships began collecting biomass—

Preparing for regeneration.

And then—

Space warped.

Under the pull of Norn Whale-ships, the remnants of the Hive Fleet entered compressed-space travel, vanishing from the Hades System.

Eden narrowed his eyes.

He knew.

They hadn't retreated.

They'd chosen a new target.

Baal.

The red giant world was now next.

Leviathan may have suffered massive losses—

But if it could absorb more biomass, it would bounce back.

Eden had to move quickly—

Cleanse the regions around Baal, and prepare for the final battle.

But—

An alarm rang out.

"Savior… I'm afraid we're not leaving yet," Dante said grimly.

Eden had already received the warning.

He turned—

And saw it.

On the far side of Frdia,

Two Necron Tomb Ships appeared—

Accompanied by Scythe-class Harvesters and Mist-class Raiders.

Uninvited guests.

Two Necron Overlords had joined forces, clearly intending to attack the Dreamweaver and Blade of Vengeance fleets.

And this—

Was why Eden hadn't launched a fleet strike on Leviathan's retreating forces.

Yes, hitting the swarm during its withdrawal could've scored massive kills—

But if the Necrons backstabbed them then, the situation would've become disastrous.

A Tyranid-Necron tag-team would've spelled doom.

Even now, without the swarm,

The Necron fleet posed a significant threat.

Their tech.

Their ships.

Superior.

And Eden's forces needed to be ready for Baal.

If they suffered here, the next battle could be lost before it began.

"Emperor help us," Dante muttered.

"These metal freaks really know how to pick their timing..."

But Eden was calm.

"They're fast.

But don't worry—

This won't take long."

He checked the clock.

"They'll retreat soon enough.

Otherwise… their own homes are forfeit."

Dante blinked.

And then relaxed slightly.

The Savior had already foreseen this.

Indeed—

Eden had prepared thoroughly.

The Greenskin Steeljaw Clan had been dispatched to loot Zahrasusa's Tomb World.

He'd also sent the cleverest Big Mek and Big Barrel to form a fleet and hunt down the C'tan shard—the Burning One.

A difficult mission—

But if anyone could do it, it was them.

The Big Mek had once hand-crafted a battle satellite.

Greenskin tech, derived from the Old Ones, made no sense—

But it worked.

Just not for humans.

Still—

If they succeeded, the Burning One could become the power core of Eden's next orbital weapon.

VMMM—

The Necron fleet drew closer.

The Dreamweaver, Blade of Vengeance, and all support ships raised their void shields.

The Redeemer Fleets were inbound.

War was about to erupt.

...

Aboard a Tomb Ship

Anrakyr the Traveller glared at the Dreamweaver.

No joy remained on his face.

After the failed assassination, the returning Deathmarks had shown signs of Warp contamination—

Their minds, tampered with.

Clearly—

The Savior had survived.

But by the time Anrakyr realized this, Eros was already detonating.

Too late to launch another strike.

Yet now—

He had another chance.

Two Overlords had united.

He was confident they could destroy the Savior's fleet—

And then hunt him down personally.

Anrakyr turned to a spectral green holo of Zahrasusa.

"Once we destroy the Savior's fleet—

I will give you what you want."

He'd promised Zahrasusa certain spoils to gain his cooperation.

Though Anrakyr dreamed of restoring Necron glory—

Most of his peers only wanted to guard their isolated dynasties.

He would show them.

He would reclaim the galaxy.

The two Necron Overlords never cared much for the fate of the Silent King.

Even in the height of the Necron dynasties, the relationships between the Phaerons had been fractured—

Marred by internecine wars and personal ambitions.

"You will address me as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Zahrasusa reminded sharply.

"But remember your promise, Anrakyr. If the battle turns against us—my army will retreat."

The Mephrit Dynasty had little of its legacy left after millennia of slumber.

He had no intention of squandering what remained in a war not entirely his.

He did not mind attacking those who had occupied the Hades System—

But not at the cost of his dynasty's survival.

Anrakyr eyed the growing human fleet and scoffed:

"We will not lose. Our ships surpass human technology in every way."

Just then—

A transmission arrived.

Anrakyr sneered.

"So the Savior wants to beg?"

He accepted the transmission.

The hologram shimmered—

Eden's calm voice emerged:

"Traveller, thank you for your clumsy betrayal at the spire. You almost managed to kill me."

"Hmph. A pity you lived. But your luck won't last."

"Our alliance is broken. Beg all you want—it won't change your fate."

Eden tilted his head with amused disdain.

"You don't actually think I'm here to beg, do you?"

"I am the Savior, the Primarch of Hope, Son of the Emperor, beloved protector of mankind, just and noble— Unlike your treacherous and scheming kind."

(He tactfully left out nicknames like "Scheming Devourer" and "Exploding Rogue.")

Eden turned toward Zahrasusa.

"I came to speak to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with goodwill."

"…Me?"

Both Necron Overlords were taken aback.

"Yes. Since we were allies not long ago, I felt it was only right to inform you—of a grave threat."

Eden looked completely sincere, noble even.

For a fleeting second, Zahrasusa actually felt guilty for betraying him—

Only to shake the feeling away.

Humans were always enemies of the dynasties.

"…A grave threat?" Zahrasusa asked.

Eden nodded solemnly.

"Our scouts were attacked near your tomb world.

The source? A full Greenskin fleet."

"They're after your dynasty's holdings.

I advise you return and defend it—before it's too late."

Silence.

Zahrasusa's glowing Gauss eyes flared.

"Filthy greenskins! They dare covet my legacy?!"

He had deployed nearly all his armies from the tomb world.

The rest slumbered in stasis.

A successful Greenskin raid now… would spell ruin.

"Zahrasusa!" Anrakyr interjected.

"That's a lie. Just a trick! He wants you gone so he can break our assault!"

Zahrasusa hesitated—

Then locked eyes with Eden again.

Eden sighed dramatically.

"I come bearing warning—

And I'm called a liar. What a world."

"You're stalling, Savior! Hoping to weaken us before running like a coward!" Anrakyr snapped.

"Enough!" he barked.

"All fleets, open fire—!"

But before the order could fully land—

Zahrasusa roared:

"THE GREENSKINS HAVE ATTACKED!"

A distress pulse had just come from Perdita, his tomb world.

He turned toward Anrakyr:

"I must return—my legacy is under siege.

You wouldn't dare try to stop me… would you?"

"Perhaps… you'd prefer to join me in slaughtering those filthy xenos?"

No one would dare bar Zahrasusa from leaving.

Doing so meant war.

"Wait." Eden raised a hand.

With a perfectly gentle expression, he said,

"Noble He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,

I brought this news at great personal risk.

And I've endured the Traveller's suspicion.

Now that truth is revealed—

Might I say… you owe me thanks?"

Zahrasusa looked at Anrakyr—

Then at Eden.

His glowing eyes flickered.

"…You're right."

He bowed slightly—Necron-style.

"Savior. I thank you… for your warning."

Eden smiled with inner triumph.

"He thanked me!"

Then—

Zahrasusa vanished.

Moments later, his entire fleet turned and hurried back to Perdita.

Just like that—

The Necron alliance was shattered.

Onboard Anrakyr's tomb ship—

Eden's hologram lingered for a moment.

Then faded.

"You decide whether you still want to fight," he said before vanishing.

Half the enemy fleet was gone.

There was no longer a true threat.

Eden had won without a single shot.

And soon—Anrakyr would have bigger problems.

"Damn him!" Anrakyr slammed his gauntlet into the console.

Something was wrong.

He knew he'd been played—

But couldn't prove it.

And worse—

New reports arrived.

The Burning One had escaped.

Whether due to Eros's explosion or some other force, the C'tan shard had broken free.

The Star God fragment was now loose—

And hated the Necrons.

If it joined with other fragments, it could become a true catastrophe.

Anrakyr had no choice.

He ordered his fleet to pursue the Burning One—

Leaving the Savior alone.

Aboard the Dreamweaver

Dante blinked.

"…They're just leaving?"

"Yup," Eden said.

No need to explain.

Some things were better kept quiet.

Dante turned to look at his towering leader.

This man had ended a war before it even began.

"A true prophet…" he whispered.

He glanced over at his own Chief Librarian, Mephiston.

"Sigh. Same job title—but you should learn from the Savior."

"…???"

Mephiston looked blankly at Dante.

Learn what!?

He was a psyker. He could read Warp flows, catch glimpses of fate…

But Eden—

Eden knew everything.

That wasn't prophecy.

That was divinity.

"Dante! We've got a war council to attend—about Baal."

Eden's voice came from across the bridge.

"We need to count our allies. I've heard the Regent might join us—if he can make it in time."

"Oh, and… the Daemons might help too.

That petty-minded Bloodthirster that keeps chasing you?

He'll be there."

Mephiston's eyes widened.

He suddenly sensed something in the Warp—

And from the chaos of visions, pulled one clear thread.

He paled.

"In the name of Sanguinius! A Supreme Bloodthirster is headed for Baa—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Everyone was staring at him.

Including Eden—who'd just said it.

"…Right. Sorry," Mephiston mumbled.

"Shouldn't have shouted."

Dante clapped him on the shoulder.

"No worries, Chief.

Next time, let the real prophet go first."

Soon—

The Dreamweaver's fleet jumped toward the Baal system.

...

Later – Hades System

Planet Perdita

The tomb world was in ruins.

A sneaky Greenskin fleet had struck during the planetary overload—

Breaking into core vaults, stealing priceless Necron artifacts.

In mere hours—

They'd looted half the tomb world's legacy.

The rest was badly damaged.

The Mephrit Dynasty had suffered massive losses.

"RAAAHHH!!"

Zahrasusa unleashed a massive Gauss beam into the sky.

"Filthy greenskins! You will PAY!"

He immediately launched a retaliatory crusade—

Targeting every known or suspected Greenskin empire in range.

He swore to reclaim every artifact.

...

Elsewhere

Anrakyr's tomb ship drifted through the void.

They had tracked the Burning One's last trail—

Only to find nothing.

Its signature had almost vanished.

With no other choice—

Anrakyr began a system-wide sweep, desperate to recover the runaway C'tan shard.

...

Far Away – The Macragge's Honor, Private Sanctuary

The chamber was still and silent.

Only the quiet whir of machines and the scratch of a pen broke the calm.

Regent Roboute Guilliman worked tirelessly over a desk.

His face was more lined than before.

Hair thinner.

Then—

A single report caught his eye.

His brows lifted.

Eden, his Primarch brother, had defeated the Leviathan Hive Fleet in the Hades System—

And bought the Imperium precious time.

Guilliman set down the pen.

"…It's time."

He rose to his feet.

He would lead a fleet himself—

To support Baal.

And finally…

Meet his brother in person.

(End of Chapter)

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