Inside the bridge, the air seemed to solidify.
That scarlet communication request was still flashing frantically, but at this moment, the meaning it represented had changed completely.
Commissar Valeria's voice carried a hint of awe and shock that she herself could not control.
"Signal source... confirmed."
"From the home world of the Ultramarines, Macragge."
She paused for a moment, struggling to utter the name that weighed so heavily in the history of the Human Empire.
"Sender... Imperial Regent, Primarch, Robert Guilliman."
Boom!
This name, like a supernova, exploded within the hearts of the three Primarch Sisters!
Their expressions instantly became incredibly complex.
"Guilliman?"
Angronia was the first to scoff, her amber eyes burning with undisguised vigilance and hostility.
"That schemer? Hmph, this must be a trap!"
"Big Sister, ignore him! Let me lead a team over there and see what tricks he has up his sleeve!"
"Calm down, Angronia."
Fogremia shook her head gently, her purple eyes flashing with the light of reason.
"On the contrary, this is an excellent opportunity."
A proud curve formed at the corner of her mouth.
"An opportunity for us to see with our own eyes just how far the current upper echelons of the Human Empire have fallen into Decay."
Sanguinia frowned slightly, her sky-blue eyes revealing an indescribable compassion.
"He was once... our brother."
Her voice was soft, yet carried a hint of heaviness.
"If possible, I Hope to avoid conflict with him."
A trap. An opportunity. An old friend.
These three completely different perspectives made the atmosphere on the bridge become subtle.
Everyone's gaze finally converged on the throne, waiting for their goddess to make the final judgment.
Macragge. The home world of the Ultramarines, and now the core of half the Human Empire.
Deep within the magnificent Fortress of Hera, in a study submerged in countless data slates and star maps.
Robert Guilliman, the Primarch who had awakened from a ten-thousand-year slumber, the only Imperial Regent of the Human Empire, was wearily supporting his forehead with one hand.
In front of him floated dozens of top-secret reports from various departments of the Human Empire.
Each one pointed to the same target—"the fifth calamity."
But the content of the reports was full of sharp, and even absurd, contradictions.
The Inquisition's report used the most vicious language to describe this force as an unprecedented ultimate heretic capable of twisting faith and corrupting souls, with a threat level even higher than that of the Chaos War Commander.
The report from Morwen Val, Abbess Sanctorum of the Adepta Sororitas, was full of fanatical praise. She claimed to have witnessed the arrival of the "Emperor's divinity" and asserted that "the fifth calamity" was the only Hope to purge Chaos and bring new life to the Human Empire.
The Astra Militarum's report was more pragmatic; they only recorded that this mysterious force had carried out devastating strikes against Chaos fleets in several sectors, and their combat capability assessment had reached the level of the Adeptus Custodes.
"A bunch of trash!"
Beside Guilliman, the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, Lord of Macragge, Marneus Calgar, let out an angry low growl.
"Imperial Regent, these reports are worthless! We should immediately organize an expeditionary force to completely erase this so-called 'the fifth calamity' from The Galaxy!"
Guilliman did not speak. He just raised his hand, signaling Calgar to be quiet.
As a top-tier strategist and pragmatist, he keenly sensed something unusual in this chaotic intelligence.
"There are too many doubts."
Guilliman thought silently in his heart.
"This force only attacks Chaos and has never actively launched an attack on any planet of the Human Empire."
"They can 'heal' the fanaticism of the Battle Sisters, and even make their faith more pure. This is definitely not a method of Chaos."
"The most critical point is..."
His gaze fell on a report with the highest encryption level.
It was top-secret intelligence from a secret informant within the Inquisition.
The content of the intelligence was simple: only a few images that had been stretched to the extreme limit and were so blurry they were almost unrecognizable.
And a caption filled with shock and disbelief.
"...in the target fleet, there appears to be a suspected... female Primarch."
Guilliman reached out and gently clicked on those images.
The first was a tall, red-haired figure holding a huge chainaxe, her body burning with visible, pure Battle Intent.
That angry silhouette... looked exactly like Angron.
The second was a golden figure with huge, snow-white wings spread out, her posture holy and compassionate, as if she could soothe all the pain in the world.
Those perfect wings... were exactly like Sanguinius's.
The third was a silver-haired swordswoman, her posture elegant and deadly, full of breathtaking perfection.
That was... Fulgrim!
Hum!
Guilliman's head felt as if it had been hit hard by a power hammer!
His rational heart, which had been calm for ten thousand years and capable of planning the entire galactic war, was violently shaken for the first time!
He stood up abruptly from his seat, his tall body trembling slightly with excitement.
Calgar had never seen the Imperial Regent so composed, and could not help but exclaim: "My Lord?!"
Guilliman ignored him.
This rational monarch, this lonely ruler, for the first time, a flame of near-madness ignited in his blue eyes, which were filled with fatigue and melancholy!
Is it a scam? Is it a conspiracy of Chaos God Tzeentch? Or... one in ten thousand chance...
No! He could no longer sit here and guess based on these damned, contradictory reports!
"I must confirm it myself."
Guilliman's voice was hoarse, but carried an unquestionable determination.
He pushed aside all the aides who tried to dissuade him and strode to the communication console in the center of the study.
His finger pressed heavily on the highest-authority communication button.
"Connect to the signal source named 'genesis'."
Guilliman's voice echoed in the communication hub of the entire Fortress of Hera.
"I want to talk to their leader..."
genesis, bridge.
Leticia listened quietly to the opinions of the three Sisters.
She did not make a decision immediately, but cast her gaze toward Terrania beside her.
The Blonde Girl seemed to feel her gaze, raised her head, and looked at her with those pure golden eyes, full of absolute trust.
Leticia smiled. She already had the answer.
No matter if the other party is an enemy or a friend, a trap or an opportunity, avoidance is never her style.
Moreover, she was also full of curiosity about this legendary "Thirteenth Brother."
Leticia slowly raised her hand and pointed to the scarlet communication request.
Her voice was calm, but carried an absolute confidence belonging to a deity.
"Connect."
Hum—
The warning symbol on the main screen disappeared instantly.
After a few seconds of signal transfer and decoding, the screen flickered.
Finally, a face belonging to a Primarch, full of majesty, fatigue, and endless melancholy, appeared clearly on the screen.
The supreme leaders of the two emerging forces in The Galaxy.
Crossing endless star seas and time and space.
At this moment, for the first time, a historic gaze-meeting was realized.
Inside the bridge, there was dead silence. A tense silence spread in the air.
Just then, a crisp, pure, and curious voice broke the solidification.
Beside the throne, Terrania poked her little head out.
She curiously tugged at the corner of Leticia's clothes, tilted her head, looked at the frowning figure on the screen, and asked in a childish voice:
"Big Sister, who is this uncle who looks so sad?"
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