Chapter 84: Guilliman Fell

When the expedition fleet finally reunited with the Regent, Captain Gray of the Ultramarines—who had sworn allegiance to Dukel—was filled with both anticipation and dread. For the first time, he would meet his genetic father, Roboute Guilliman.

Yet, this reunion was overshadowed by the grim reality of their mission: to rescue the Second Primarch from the clutches of the Chaos Gods.

Gray would never forget the harrowing sight of Dukel, realizing the full extent of the Gods' conspiracy, obliterating the majestic City of Light in a desperate gambit to save his brothers.

Now, aboard the Macragge's Honour, Gray stood in awe. The towering, azure-clad figure of Guilliman exuded authority and nobility. Despite his reservations, Gray's gene-crafted instincts told him that this was his genetic father—undeniably the Holy Primarch.

During their interactions, Guilliman's charisma and decisive demeanor dispelled any lingering doubts. It was true what Dukel had said—Guilliman was courageous, steadfast, and approachable. Though his methods could seem rigid or meticulous, Gray saw them as the hallmarks of a true leader.

For Commissar Cain, however, Guilliman offered something different. Cain observed a quality in the Regent that set him apart from the other Primarchs: an unmistakable humanity.

Dukel was enigmatic and divine, embodying power and mystery. By contrast, Guilliman was grounded, a Primarch who mingled with mortals and embraced the burdens of leadership with a relatable, if extraordinary, demeanor.

In Guilliman's war room, Cain witnessed the Primarch juggling tactical discussions with piles of administrative work. Such mundane yet monumental efforts painted Guilliman as a tireless leader deeply invested in the lives of the Imperium's citizens.

This image of Guilliman as a protector and reformer bolstered Cain's confidence as they embarked on their mission to the Dark World, guided by the cryptic visions of an Eldar Farseer.

The Dark World

When the landing craft pierced the atmosphere of the Dark World, Cain stepped onto a battlefield teeming with Chaos monstrosities. Amidst the chaos, a serpentine creature slithered through the carnage—a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh, its grotesque form radiating a twisted elegance.

The monstrosity tore through Astra Militarum and Astartes forces alike with contemptuous ease. Its hypnotic aura left many paralyzed, unable to discern reality from illusion.

At that moment, Cain noticed a shift in Guilliman's composure. The Regent, typically a bastion of rationality, emanated a fiery rage that seemed to ignite the very air around him.

Cain's instinct screamed at him: This isn't right.

When Guilliman began his charge, his calm facade shattered, Cain's fears were confirmed. He threw himself at the Primarch's feet in desperation.

"Your Highness, stop! You mustn't risk yourself like this! His Highness Dukel still needs you!"

Guilliman yanked Cain aside with surprising force.

"Did you try this nonsense with Dukel? Be thankful you didn't attempt it with Russ—he'd have eaten you alive!"

With that, the Regent launched himself into the fray.

Guilliman roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

"Fulgrim! Traitor! You will find no escape here!"

His azure power armor glinted in the dim light as he surged forward with blistering speed, the Hand of Dominion and the Emperor's blazing sword poised for destruction.

In the distance, Dukel's shout carried across the battlefield:

"Guilliman! What are you doing?!"

But the Regent was deaf to all. His hatred for the traitors who had scarred him and the Imperium consumed him entirely.

The ground beneath him erupted in a psychic blast—an ambush laid by Kairos Fateweaver, the Architect of Fate. The explosion sent Guilliman hurtling skyward, and the Keeper of Secrets wasted no time unleashing its venomous stinger.

Despite the daemonic aura clouding his senses and the illusions swirling around him, Guilliman managed to activate his jetpack mid-air. A jet of searing exhaust stabilized him just in time to slice through the incoming stinger.

But his triumph was short-lived.

A cold, sharp pain slashed across Guilliman's neck. The venom seeped into his bloodstream, burning with the potency to fell a demigod.

It was Fulgrim. At some point, the Daemon Primarch of Slaanesh had closed the distance, his poisoned rapier finding its mark.

Guilliman's towering form plummeted to the ground like a felled statue.

Plop!

The impact left a crater in the battlefield, debris scattering like shrapnel.

Guilliman had fallen.

For a moment, all fighting ceased. Both allies and enemies turned their attention to the fallen Regent. The sky above seemed to darken, as if mourning his collapse.

Fulgrim's laughter echoed as he retreated, his poisoned blade dripping with the lifeblood of a Primarch. The Keeper of Secrets and Fateweaver followed close behind, their daemonic forms disappearing into the shadows.

Dukel watched from a distance, his expression a mix of fury and anguish. His shout reverberated across the battlefield once more:

"Guilliman!"

The battle was far from over. But for now, the Imperium's greatest hope lay broken on the blood-soaked earth.

...

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