Gabriel Seth, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, a successor Chapter of the Blood Angels, gazed at the hazy world formed by pure light.
Those lights, emitting no heat whatsoever, wove together to form this cylindrical world.
Through the flaxen walls made of light, Seth felt as if he could see beyond the Webway, the blasphemous entities in the Warp watching them with malevolent eyes.
This made Seth feel a little uncomfortable. The Webway, a world that neither belonged to the material universe nor fully to the Warp, made him feel a slight unease.
"The Webway near Macragge is too narrow. When the War in Heaven happened, this was a dead zone, with only the cold Necron building Warp-isolating structures here. So the Old Ones only built some narrow, simple Webways here."
A slender, tall warrior in crimson armor stood beside Seth, speaking in a low voice.
That was Sylandri, a red-armored warrior of the Eldar Death Guard, one of the leaders of the Death Guard along with Yvraine. He was with Seth on this mission.
Seth wished he was wearing a helmet instead of an iron halo, so he could hide his twitching face and involuntarily extended fangs.
He had been reassigned some time ago, brought to Macragge by Alexander using an anywhere door, along with two companies of Flesh Tearers.
But after arriving at Macragge, Seth felt his soul, spirit, and body all being impacted.
What the hell happened to this galaxy? The Eldar actually thought they were sub-humans? Were their brains parasitized by Green-skinned Orks' spores?
Or had Seth himself been dragged into some parallel world when he passed through the anywhere door? Was this galaxy still the original galaxy?
What made Seth even more uncomfortable was that Sanguinius actually supported the idea of the Eldar being human sub-humans.
As a high-ranking member after the Blood Angels began rebuilding their Legion organizational structure, Seth also learned from Dante that Sanguinius maintained a certain degree of friendship with the Silent King of the Necron.
Seth felt that his father was a bit too fond of xenos. He feared that one day a Green-skinned Ork Warboss would pop up claiming to be friends with the Archangel, or that the Green-skinned Orks would declare themselves human sub-humans.
Gabriel Seth couldn't help but rub his lips with his extended fangs. If it weren't for the Black Rage being suppressed after the Archangel's return, he felt he might have been driven mad by these outrageous things.
"..Some areas deep within the Webway are very large, big enough to fit an entire planet or even an entire star system." Sylandri continued, talking to himself.
"..Oh."
Gabriel Seth nodded slightly, his right hand subtly tightening around his holy Chainsword, Blood Drinker.
Damn bean sprout. Don't just come up and talk to me. If you weren't a sub-human now, I would have given you a Chainsword already.
Seth thought gloomily.
Although he didn't understand xenology, since Sanguinius said they were sub-humans, then they were sub-humans, and sub-humans couldn't be chopped down.
"..The instructions from the Death Guard are very strange. Why deploy like this?" Sylandri looked around and said.
Hearing this, Seth slightly raised his head to look at Sylandri, and his eyes immediately showed some agreement.
It was indeed very strange. Seth knew the objective of this operation.
To guard the Webway and ensure the safe journey of Sanguinius, Guilliman, and Alexander to Terra.
They were guarding the first relay point. Alexander and the others would use an anywhere door in the material universe to enter this location, and then use the anywhere door several more times within the Webway to reach Terra.
What Seth didn't understand was that Alexander's orders actually required them to split into seven units to guard seven different positions in the Webway.
If the opponent wasn't the Thousand Sons, Seth might have thought such a strategy of laying out a maze would have some effect.
But for the powerful prophetic abilities of the Thousand Sons sorcerers, for the powerful precognitive abilities of Tzeentch's chosen Ahriman and the daemon Primarch Magnus, such a maze would be difficult to be effective and would only needlessly divide the Imperial forces.
Seth couldn't understand. He was outspoken and directly raised this confusion with Sanguinius and Alexander.
But both Alexander and Sanguinius simply stated that this was the most perfect plan.
Seth asked for the reason, and both just shrugged, saying they didn't know.
They also said something about there being too many possibilities, and that trying them one by one would probably make even Guilliman feel distressed.
"Original power must have his reasons for doing this!"
A metallic, wriggling sound rang out as Archmagos Belisarius Cawl stood between the two, speaking in a low, mechanical voice.
Gabriel Seth couldn't help but look at the massive being beside him.
Honestly, just thinking that Belisarius Cawl, this metallic behemoth, was also human, Seth felt that the Eldar being human seemed much more understandable.
This Archmagos, seemingly due to some achievements, was granted the surname doraemon by Saint Doraemon Alexander. Now his surname was doraemon Cawl.
He was now one of the three commanders of Seth's current team—three commanders leading a team of two hundred and twenty-two people.
Such a combination was the same in the other six teams.
Seth couldn't figure out why such an abstract formation was necessary, nor why Sanguinius and Alexander were unwilling to explain the reasons.
"Why are our actions easily predicted by the Thousand Sons? This is because too many people know about the actions, and not everyone has the ability to resist the Thousand Sons' prophecies."
Cawl seemed to have read Seth's thoughts, and so he said in a low voice:
"If information is confined to only two Primarchs and original power, then the possibility of it being spied upon by the Thousand Sons' prophetic abilities is very small."
"You offering opinions to the Primarchs and original power is good."
"But you also have to consider, can you be wiser than a Primarch and Doraemon?"
Seth was speechless. For a moment, a wave of shame washed over him.
That's right, could he be wiser than a Primarch and Doraemon?
Just then, a pinkish-red wooden door appeared in place.
"Why are they doing this? What is their reason for doing this?"
In the area of the Webway called Hallucinatory Hell, Ahriman floated beside nine stars that had been pulled into the Webway, pondering.
The seven crystals before him reflected the seven Imperial teams.
In each of these seven teams, a pinkish-red wooden door appeared.
But Ahriman easily discovered the wooden door that Alexander, Sanguinius, and Guilliman would emerge from, through predictions of the future and observations of fate.
But Ahriman hesitated.
His original plan was to use nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine mutant sorcerers as sacrifices to Tzeentch, with nine stars as the source, to cast a massive transfer spell, moving everything in the Webway near Macragge into the Hallucinatory Hell.
Hallucinatory Hell was an area of the Webway occupied by Ahriman. The terrain here was rugged and complex, filled with countless dangerous entities accumulated over millennia, and there were also treacherous runes carved by Ahriman's Rogues on the nearby walls, corroding the Webway's veil in this vicinity to be extremely thin.
Ahriman intended to make the two Primarchs and the Death Guard fall into this killing field he had prepared, to trap and kill them here, or even directly destroy the Webway's veil and throw them into the Lord of Change's domain through a Warp storm.
But Ahriman was confused.
Why would the two Primarchs and the Death Guard do such a meaningless thing? Did they think that by splitting into seven teams and seven doors, he, Ahriman, wouldn't be able to find the true target?
But... but they were Primarchs and a God.
The most perfect Primarch, Sanguinius.
That mysterious human and Eldar dual Death God, an entity currently occupying three domains of the Warp.
And Roboute Guilliman. Ahriman had experienced the Great Crusade; he knew how ambitious and profound Roboute Guilliman was.
How could they come up with such a clumsy plan?
No! There's a trick! Absolutely a trick!
"My Lord, could it be that they really just made a foolish mistake?" Astroth, one of the members of the Rogues, Ahriman's disciple, and one of the nine great sorcerers assisting in this transfer ritual, asked.
"Silence! Those are Primarchs and a God!"
Ahriman said in a lowered voice:
"Do you think you are smarter than a Primarch and a God?"
"We must change the plan immediately!"