2 Chapter 2
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Guilliman, who had completely absorbed the memory of his physical body, could only express his inner thoughts with three "fck"s.
In a mere moment, he had understood everything.
He had crossed into this nightmarish place, the human Imperium of the Warhammer universe.
This universe is a world chaotic to its core, where survival is luxury.
Survival by any means necessary is the victory for one's race.
Mankind had been struggling in space for forty thousand years, through the Golden Age, the Age of Strife, the Long Night, the Great Crusade, and the Horus Heresy during the final phase of the Great Crusade, and on to the era of the Human Imperium that has lasted for ten thousand years.
And now is the most dangerous moment for the human Imperium.
The Imperium's main enemy is Abaddon, the warlord supported by the four Chaos Gods.
He leads the forces of Chaos, constantly invading the real universe, paving the way for the ultimate apocalyptic plans of the four Chaos Gods.
The horror of the four Chaos Gods is real; they exist as pure concepts, against which victory is impossible.
Throughout the ten-thousand-year existence of the Imperium, Abaddon has launched twelve crusades, clearing away most of the Blackstone seal nodes restricting the Chaos Gods' entry into the real universe.
With his initiation of the thirteenth crusade, the most critical fortress of Cadia, a crucial link in the seal nodes, has been utterly destroyed.
The Eye of Terror, out of control, spews chaotic power into the real world. The minions of the Chaos Gods are pouring in, ravaging planets everywhere.
A massive scar of curse splits the Imperium in two, with traces of demons and traitors appearing on countless planets.
The Imperium is now a bleeding giant. If things aren't handled well, humanity will soon be finished.
And for Guilliman, who has transmigrated to this point in time, the enemies he faces are truly terrifying. It feels like a one-way road to death!
With this in mind, Guilliman also felt quite exasperated.
It's not that he's incompetent, but the enemy is too powerful, just too overwhelming.
The rebellious Primarchs alone are enough to keep him on his toes, he's stretched thin.
Worse, those damn Chaos Gods are lying in wait behind all this.
One false step, and it would be game over.
The sound of a chainsword being revved brought Guilliman back to his senses, staring at the Chaos Marines and demons in front of him.
He decided to deal with the immediate enemies first, and plan for what comes next later.
Guilliman drew the nearby sacred sword, and its blade was instantly engulfed in scorching flames.
This was the personal sword of the Emperor, brought along by Belisarius Cawl, who also carried the revival armor.
As Guilliman gripped the hilt, the Emperor's sword also awakened, with golden flames spreading, illuminating the golden battlefield.
Having integrated their souls, Guilliman felt the control over this demi-godly body becoming smoother, filled with endless power.
Combat techniques emerged naturally in his mind as he lifted the sword, giving him the instinct to wield this body full of surging power.
Guilliman's revival brought both warring parties into an eerie silence.
The loyalists of the Imperium, the last defenders of humanity, all watched him with ecstatic eyes.
Guilliman's return was like a faint light of hope rising in the endless darkness.
In the bleak, despair-filled apocalypse, a glimmer of redemption emerged.
The entire hall became eerily quiet.
Compared to the thunderous, earth-shaking warfare outside, the silence here seemed very odd.
The overwhelming presence inherent to the Primarchs made the demons and fallen warriors fear him, maintaining an unusual quiet.
Even though he had slept for ten thousand years, his identity still instilled immense fear in them.
A piercing scream shattered the silence.
A terrorizing warrior, covered in bone spikes and brandishing a blood-red axe, stood out from the crowd.
Under the shocked gaze of his comrades, this fallen warrior, a follower of the Blood God, lunged at Guilliman, aiming to harvest the soul of the Primarch for his master.
Guilliman made a move.
Only the Death Cultist present, a renowned Eldar warrior known for speed, saw the thunderous blow coming.
The sword of flames traced a ghostly arc in mid-air.
The Berserker was split in two at the waist, and under immense force, both halves of his body flew across the battlefield, landing with a thunderous noise.
The sound of the fallen Chaos warrior hitting the ground broke the eerie silence.
Death could not frighten these minions of Chaos.
With earth-shattering, hateful roars, countless demons and Chaos warriors charged fearlessly at Guilliman.
Their aim was to completely eradicate this awakened Primarch.
The surviving elite warriors, Dark Angels, and Astartes from other chapters also met them with furious roars, renewing their bloody conflict.
Chainswords and power weapons sliced through armor and flesh, their hatred for each other so profound that only the complete fall of one side could end the war.
"For mankind, for the Emperor, for our father," Cato Sicarius roared, driving his power fist deep into a traitor's throat, shattering armor and crushing the windpipe, indifferent to the foul blood spattering over him.
With Guilliman's resurrection, they were once again able to stand against these adversaries.
Celestine, wielding her sword with her remaining hand and murmuring prayers, was invigorated by Guilliman's return, fearless in the face of the enemy.
The flame of faith was reignited within her.
She became an emissary of the Emperor, harvesting the lives of traitorous Astartes.
The Chapter Master of the Black Templars and his surviving brethren also charged, battle cries emerging from their speakers. Wherever their sacred swords passed, corpses littered the ground.
With Guilliman entering the battlefield, the Loyalists quickly gained the upper hand.
No one could resist the Primarch's power. Anyone who attempted to impede him would face his terrifying wrath.
The first to die were the sorcerers who worshipped the dark gods, their powers having disturbed the foundations of the sanctuary.
They provided the demons with an opportunity to invade the holy place.
In the face of Guilliman, their prideful psychic powers were as fragile as thin paper.
Guilliman could easily snap their necks, turning their bodies into fragments with a rain of armor-piercing bullets.
Next came the fallen Astartes. Once the protectors of humanity, they were now its enemies.
All was shattered by a sudden scream.
With Guilliman joining the battle, the loyalist faction quickly gained the upper hand.
No one could withstand the power of a Primarch. Anyone who tried to hinder him would face his terrible wrath.
The first to die were the sorcerers who worshipped the fallen Chaos Gods, whose power had shaken the foundation of the sanctuary.
They had given these demons the opportunity to invade the sanctuary.
In the face of Guilliman, their vaunted psychic power was as fragile as paper.
Guilliman could effortlessly snap their necks and turn their bodies into fragments with a barrage of armor-piercing rounds.
Next were the fallen Astartes, who were once protectors of humanity but now had become enemies.
Guilliman showed them no mercy. Like a god, he charged into their heavy fire, wielding a flaming holy sword.
The reaction speed and strength of a Primarch far exceeded the imagination of mere mortals.
Before Guilliman, the enhanced senses of the fallen Astartes were utterly insignificant.
Like a tiger among sheep, he unleashed a frenzy of killing.
With the first strike, a fallen Astartes was sliced in two. His terminator armor was as fragile as paper, unable to resist Guilliman for even a second.
With the second, a demon was cleaved in two. Its cursed blood gushed out, the Emperor's sword burning its soul to nothing, denying it the chance to return to the warp.
Then came the third strike, the fourth, and so on, so fast that only afterimages could be seen.
Guilliman's speed was like lightning, tipping the balance of the battlefield in favor of the loyal defenders.
All warriors roared, their faces alight with excitement.
They gathered around Guilliman, forming an unstoppable spearhead with him, sweeping all enemies before them.
The once-mighty demons and fallen warriors were swiftly reaped like weeds before Guilliman.
His wrath erupted like a volcano, his eyes full of tangible fury. He swung the Emperor's holy sword, slaughtering all enemies in sight.
With the slaying of the last demon within the sanctuary, Guilliman finally ceased, calming his rage.
Guilliman was about to sort out everything, to see if he could reestablish communication with the Macragge units and reclaim the planet.
Suddenly, a crisp voice echoed in his mind.
"Target suitable for 'Master of Dominion' template detected. Database and assistance sprites activated, please check timely."
"You may ask questions, and the assistance sprite will provide the best possible answers."
Guilliman paused at the sound.
Was this his cheat?
Seems like there was still a chance for a turnaround. Ideally, there'd be a ten-draw, three-day straight leap to become a god.
In that case, punching the four Chaos Gods, kicking the Tyranids, gnawing the Tyranids, and roasting the Orks would be just around the corner!
Even the Emperor would have to wobble up and call him "big brother".
"What abilities do you have?" Guilliman asked without delay.
Crossing without a cheat was like Adam without Eve, a doomed fate.
Understanding the golden finger was the first step to altering fate.
