Warhammer: The Worst Start There Is (40k) - Chapter 17: The Emperor's Angel

“Sir, is there something you wish to command me for?”

Sicarius entered and looked at Guilliman, who was sitting upright, with a puzzled expression.

Guilliman stood up, and his armor emitted a melodious sound as it followed his movements.

He always wore that armor, the one that had brought him back from the dead.

This suit of armor was more than just a creation of the Adeptus Mechanicus; it contained a hint of the power of Death. It was the power of Death that had healed Guilliman’s soul’s wounds, allowing him to come back to life.

During the Battle of Thessala, Fulgrim, the Primarch of the Emperor Children, had stabbed him fiercely. The blade had pierced his neck, causing him to slumber for tens of thousands of years.

That wound was not merely a physical injury; it was also a wound to the soul.

Otherwise, even if one were to dig out the Primarch’s heart, the Primarch wouldn’t die immediately.

Ferus, the Primarch who was killed, also died because Fulgrim had used a weapon infused with the power of chaos; otherwise, it would have been impossible to kill a Primarch being.

So far, Guilliman had no means to get rid of this suit of armor. Perhaps when his system unlocked the second level of the database, he would find a solution.

“I received a message from the Astropath. The Sara system is under attack by Plague Marines, and they need assistance. I’ve analyzed this information, and since this system is on our way, I’ve made the decision to have Macragge’s Honour lead a portion of the fleet to resolve this system’s issues. I need you to gather the other readable fighters so that we can muster our forces when we jump out of the Immaterium. We need to be as fast as possible. After clearing the Sara system, we’ll return to the fleet and head to the Industrial World of Connaught.”

Sicarius hesitated for a moment and then said cautiously, “Sir, this matter doesn’t require your personal involvement. You can leave it to Captain Felix; he will handle it well. You shouldn’t expose yourself to the battlefield; we can’t afford the risk of losing you.”

“No, I cannot make a decision and then let others fight for that decision while I hide in the background. Besides, the fleet will ultimately have to split up and help different star systems. I am a Primarch, and the Imperium needs me to achieve victory. The citizens of the Imperium need me to achieve victory. This is how it’s decided. Sicarius, go prepare.”

Guilliman’s tone became grave and unquestionable.

Going to the Sara system to clear out the Plague Marines had its own hidden agenda for Guilliman, beyond reassuring the populace.

The Sovereign’s Template could transform the belief of Imperial citizens in him into power, and the higher his fame and achievements, the more the Imperium’s people would trust him.

Guilliman was always clear about who his enemies are, it’s the 4 God of Chaos.

If he lived, the Gods would die.

If he died, the Gods would live.

The opposition between the two sides was as sharp as fire and water, with no room for compromise or reconciliation.

One side had to fall for this war to end.

Guilliman had to seize every opportunity to boost his reputation and face, making the Imperial citizens firmly believe that he, the Son of the God Emperor, the Lord of Ultramar, was the savior.

Hearing Guilliman’s resolute and unquestionable words, Sicarius had no choice but to agree.

He lowered his head, bowed, and then turned to walk away. His task was to gather the warriors on the Macragge’s Honour and prepare them for battle, aiming for the fastest possible clearance of the Sara system.

Guilliman would personally lead a fleet to save the Sara system.

Other fleets would be led by different heroes.

Gathering such a large number of warships together undoubtedly made them formidable.

But it wouldn’t guarantee a quick victory or the restoration of Ultramar’s stability.

The fleets would have to split up. Heroes like Celestine and Amalrich would each lead a fleet to rescue star systems deeply entrenched by the minions of chaos.

The ultimate goal of these fleets was the farthest edge of Ultramar, the Industrial World of Connaught, which was also closest to the Imperium’s border territory.

Heroes of the Imperium of Man would travel to Connaught from different routes, rescuing star systems in need along the way.

When all the fleets arrived at the Connaught system, the task of eradicating the forces of chaos within Ultramar would be essentially accomplished, and then they could radiate out to other star systems of the Imperium.

Saint Celestine, Judge Gray, and other Imperial heroes did not want the Primarch to personally enter the battlefield, fearing a repeat of what happened ten thousand years ago when they lost him. Still, they were persuaded by Guilliman to lead their respective fleets and complete their missions, rescuing those suffering in their respective star systems.

On the bridge of the Macragge’s Honour.

The Servitors, linked to the main control center, trembled, and the extent of their shaking was so great that it caused the neural cables connected to their cerebral cortices to shake as well.

The Servitors announced the same information in unison.

“Coordinate data detected: Sara system.”

The captain with mechanical arms examined the many data windows in front of him with his electronic eye and shouted, “Enter real space.”

The data supervisor, power supervisor, and intelligence supervisor shared the data in real time at the fastest possible speed, using their respective mechanical components to better control this massive spacecraft.

“The material world coordinate data parsed.”

“Energy circuits are transitioning, attempting to open the entrance to the real universe.”

“Power systems are stable.”

In a series of rapid announcements, the twenty-six-kilometer-long Macragge’s Honour emerged from the warp, followed closely by the warships of other squadrons, all ready to fight alongside Guilliman.

A massive influx of information quickly filled the bridge, with information between the warships being rapidly shared.

The Cherub emitted a piercing sound, and the cogitator’s computer produced a rapid clicking noise.

“Alert, Chaos ships detected.”

“Alert, Chaos ships detected.”

The broadcast machines, connected via neural cables and other instruments, twitched, and the brass speakers embedded in their throats rapidly broadcasted information about the enemy.

“Convert the Gellar Field into the Void Shield, prepare for battle, and open fire freely. Clear these damn traitors and let them know our might!” The captain grasped the railing in front of him and roared loudly.

Sara system.

The Grlex Hive.

This ancient, gigantic Hive City had mostly fallen under the fierce attack of the Plague Marines.

The surviving civilians had been evacuated to the massive astropathic fortress. The Void Shield here was still functioning, their last refuge.

The thunderous sounds of artillery fire continued, with the remaining planetary defenders using the last fortress of the Hive City to snipe at the Plague Marines, attempting to halt their advance.

The reanimated corpses created by the plague were gradually devouring the defenders’ positions, and the shadow of death was closing in, leaving the defenders increasingly desperate.

Inside the fortress, a elderly woman clung to two children. The children’s innocent eyes carried fear and unease, and the indescribable sadness in their gazes was heart-wrenching.

At an age when they should have been innocent, they had already understood the pain between life and death.

They were born into a dark age, where all they saw was despair and suffering.

Their peaceful lives had been shattered completely a few months ago when they watched their father pick up a gun and follow the soldiers to the battlefield.

They watched their mother being caught by the Plague Marine and heard her painful cries, begging them to run faster, and they witnessed their mother being torn apart by the Plague Marine.

“Grandma, didn’t you always say that the Emperor would protect us? Why hasn’t he sent his angels to save us? He didn’t save Mom and Dad either.” The trembling girl, her voice quivering from fear, looked at the national religious believer praying in the distance, then turned to the elderly woman holding her and asked with her childish voice.

The elderly woman looked at the girl, suppressing her own fear as best as she could, and gave a gentle smile. Her withered, bony arms held the girl tightly.

“Grandma doesn’t know either, perhaps the Emperor’s angels are too busy.”