"This is a moment of glory! Ten millennia ago, our gene-father was grievously wounded by a fallen daemon. Today, for the first time, we have washed away this shame!"
On Macragge, banners fluttered in the wind as millions gathered. The Master of the Ultramarines, Lord of Macragge, Marneus Augustus Calgar, was proclaiming the magnitude of this victory to all the citizens of Ultramar. The great enemy, who had vanished for ten thousand years, had been banished. The blasphemous weapon had been shattered. This was an honor, a glory that could reinvigorate the beleaguered realm of Macragge.
Of course, Calgar still had no idea what had actually happened. It couldn't be helped; an astropathic message could carry only so much information.
Therefore…
"We're doomed. Something terrible is about to happen."
Metaros, clad in his Sword Brethren Veteran power armor, stood anxiously. He wasn't the only one; all the Sword Brethren veterans shared his unease. Only Inquisitor Chris sat in the VIP section, watching the scene with rapt interest. He had a feeling the next act would be highly entertaining.
The reason was simple.
Calgar had registered the Star of Trailblaze Chapter as a successor of the Ultramarines.
Honestly, who gave him the audacity?
Yes, they had an Ultramarine in their ranks, but look at the rest of them. A whole host of long-war veterans. Metaros himself was, without a doubt, an absolute elite among the Ultramarines. But in the Star of Trailblaze Chapter, aside from the clearly neophyte company of Emperor's Children, he was at the bottom of the hierarchy.
And then there were the Dreadnoughts—a Blood Angel Sanguinary Guard, a member of the Dark Angels' 500-strong honor guard, the ancient sage Rylanor, and a retired Varagyr Wolf Guard. He hadn't even had a chance to ask about the Ultramarine and Imperial Fist Dreadnoughts. More importantly, their commander was a Primarch.
Who the hell did Calgar think he was, claiming them as an Ultramarines successor?
Chris now felt that if the message could be intercepted, disaster might be averted. But if it got through, Macragge was in for one hell of a party. While the Dark Angels and Blood Angels had good relations with the Ultramarines, a matter like this... bordered on blasphemy.
Metaros felt the same. Clutching the fragment of the Blade of the Laer, he was practically vibrating with anxiety. The problem was, his Chapter Master was currently boosting morale, and he couldn't very well interrupt. The truth was that Macragge, and indeed the entire Imperium—save for the vermin on Terra—was in a state of decline. A piece of good news was simply too important, even for Macragge and the 500 Worlds of Ultramar. As a natural politician, Metaros understood the gravity of the situation.
"For the Emperor!!!"
"FOR THE EMPEROR!!!"
With a final cheer, the speech concluded. For the people living in the world of Warhammer, spiritual comfort was often all they could get, even if that comfort required the expenditure of vast material resources.
---o---
Soon, within the great halls of the Fortress of Hera on Macragge, Metaros strode in. Chris had departed immediately after the ceremony. He needed to get to Terra at once to report to the Inquisition. With this, he would surely be granted more resources, allowing him to better fulfill his duties and sweep away all enemies of the Imperium and the Golden Throne.
"What is the full situation?" Calgar asked, gesturing tiredly at a nearby sofa as he looked at the Sword Brethren Veteran. He was exhausted and had no interest in playing at courtly etiquette. In truth, it wasn't just him. If you were to meet almost any high-ranking Imperial official, forgoing flattery and getting straight to the point was the greatest bribe you could offer.
"Brother, we must stop that successor chapter application immediately!!!"
Metaros was in front of Calgar in an instant. He produced a data-slate and plugged it into a servo-skull's interface.
The great battle of the Space Hulk began to play. Tides of Orks clashed with purestrain Genestealers, while the god-machine, an Emperor Titan, strode across the land. The minions of the four Chaos Gods tore each other apart. The opening scene alone made Calgar instinctively grip the arms of his throne. The sheer scale of it sent a chill down his spine. This was a war that would require him to commit immense resources—all the forces of Ultramar he could currently command.
Looking at the several unharmed Sword Brethren, Calgar found it unbelievable. How did you come back in one piece?
Then, Calgar saw a sight that made his blood boil. The Fallen Primarch, Fulgrim, descended from the heavens, four arms flailing, a serpentine tail whipping behind him. Calgar felt the blood rush to his head. His own gene-father sat in a state between life and death in the deepest halls of this very fortress. Now, seeing the arch-enemy of ten millennia appear before him, how could Calgar not react? He wished he could charge into that battlefield himself, even if it meant death or interment in a Dreadnought. Anything to escape this endless tide of paperwork and meet a glorious end.
And then…
CRACK!!!
With a flash of golden light, a towering figure, over four meters tall, blocked Fulgrim's path.
Calgar felt his breath catch in his throat. The figure was so immense, so reassuring. A Gene-Primarch, a son of the Emperor, appearing before the people of the Imperium once more after ten thousand years. Even if it wasn't his own gene-father, Calgar felt a sense of honor and glory.
It couldn't be helped. In this dark millennium, the nine loyal Primarchs had been deified. Even Calgar, Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, was influenced. Far too many patriots were waiting, hoping that a son of the Emperor would step out of myth to lead this despairing nation once more.
This was Calgar's only thought, followed by a moment of pure glory. The Fallen Primarch displayed his consummate swordsmanship, his attacks too fast for even Calgar to follow. He knew that if he were to face that creature, he would be killed in an instant. But those attacks, no matter how skillful, no matter how treacherous and cunning, were all blocked by a shield that stood like a mountain. The loyal Primarch was an immovable rock in a furious storm.
"Rogal Dorn?"
"No. A Primarch we do not know. He may not even be one of the nine. According to him, after the Webway Project, he delved deep into the Warp to find a new salvation for the Imperium."
"!!!"
Calgar was stunned, then a thought struck him. Their own gene-father had once prepared a banquet hall to host all his brothers. In that hall were two chairs that were perpetually covered. There were twenty Primarchs, and the most mysterious were not the twentieth, Alpha Legion, but the second and the eleventh. Even the twentieth Primarch had the legacy of Alpharius. But those two most mysterious ones had left no records behind. Not even in the vast libraries of Macragge could any mention be found. So…
"Could he be one of them…?" Calgar murmured to himself. He knew that among the legions under the Ultramarines' command, there were gene-seeds whose origins were untraceable. He knew they belonged to those two. But…
"Calgar, we have to stop that appointment now! You registered My Lord's Chapter, the Star of Trailblaze, as an Ultramarines successor. Setting aside the fact that it's filled with ten-thousand-year-old loyalist veterans from traitor legions, their Chapter Master is a Gene-Primarch. Claiming them as our own... not even our own Primarch would dare do such a thing! It is blasphemy and hubris! Not to mention they have sacred ten-thousand-year-old Dreadnoughts from the Blood Angels, Imperial Fists, Dark Angels, and Space Wolves!"
"..."
A cold sweat broke out on Calgar's brow. He immediately prepared to send a ship to recall the message. It shouldn't be a huge problem. Given the Imperium's pathetic efficiency, a non-priority message like this would take decades, if not centuries, to be officially registered even after reaching Holy Terra. All they had to do was send someone to the Administratum on Terra and retrieve the document.
However…
"Lord Calgar, a message from Holy Terra has just been returned. The Star of Trailblaze Chapter has been officially registered as a successor of the Ultramarines. Furthermore, the confirmation has been broadcast to all First Founding Chapters, including the Imperial Fists, Blood Angels, and Space Wolves…?"
The Ultramarine who had just entered trailed off, looking confusedly at the two men staring back at him, their mouths agape.
"We're finished!!!"
This was the only thought in both their minds. Given the sheer size of the Ultramarines and their successor chapters, they would never be declared traitors; the Imperium couldn't afford it. Much like the Codex Astartes, the laws of the ancestors were immutable, even by the ancestors themselves. But the other First Founding Chapters with Dreadnoughts involved would not let this go. Since when did our revered Ancient Dreadnought become one of your Ultramarines? This was an intolerable insult.
The two of them could already envision the masters of various chapters converging on Macragge, and they would have absolutely no way to explain themselves. Following a Primarch on a ten-thousand-year secret crusade was a glorious thing—even they felt a sense of honor—but this…
"Prepare for action, immediately!!!"
Calgar and Metaros sprang into motion. At the same time, a single question echoed in both their minds.
Damn it, why were the vermin on Terra so fast this one time?
---o---
Meanwhile, very soon…
"This is blasphemy! They must be made to repent!!!"
On the Rock, Azrael of the Dark Angels received the news and smashed the table before him into splinters. What an insult! How dare those Ultramarines!
The Dark Angels were currently dreaming of one thing: how to bring their Ancient back. Unfortunately, the Star of Trailblaze Chapter had once again vanished. Even Ezekiel's powerful foresight couldn't locate them, and the attempt had nearly cost him his life. How dare the Ultramarines do this now?
Azrael immediately summoned Asmodai. The Interrogator-Chaplain had changed completely since his return. The crazed fanatic was gone, replaced by a noble knight. Azrael had suspected he'd been replaced or corrupted and had even had Ezekiel perform a mind-scan. Afterward, Ezekiel had looked at him with a very strange, almost unsettling gaze, but had given a clear answer. "Asmodai is fine. This is a good thing for him. My Lord prescribed him an excellent treatment for his… condition."
Since that was the case, he could send Asmodai to Macragge. Let him demand an explanation from the Ultramarines and Calgar. The Dark Angels were busy, after all. The members of the Inner Circle were the most mobile, constantly roaming the Imperium. They had been much more docile since their return, content to pray before the statues of the Emperor and the Lion. This was a perfect mission for him.
---o---
On a frozen ocean on Fenris, the same news was received.
Logan Grimnar, who had been trying to lasso the new Wolf Cub recruits as they sprinted across the snow, paused. These were neophytes created using the new batch of gene-seed, with three additional surgical procedures. The results were proving to be exceptionally good. The seeds were stable, but the only problem was that these new recruits were all incredibly unruly. Once you let them go, they were gone. Lassoing the new blood had become a new form of entertainment for the Space Wolves.
"Blasphemy. You will go to Macragge."
Though their Ancient had left, this was the Chapter he had served in for ten thousand years. The Ultramarines had some nerve. As expected of the whelps of the ambitious Guilliman. It was time for a reminder of what the Space Wolves used to do ten millennia ago.
---o---
Finally, aboard the Black Templars' flagship, the Eternal Crusader, a battered Marshal Giovanni and his men arrived.
"High Marshal, we must contact The Phalanx immediately!"
He had been rather unlucky. While everyone else had returned safely, his force had run headlong into a major warband of Iron Warriors. They claimed to be heading to a place called Tillius. According to them, a blasphemous event had occurred there: an Iron Warrior had claimed to be a "son of Rogal Dorn." They were on their way to conduct an "internal cleansing" and had run straight into Giovanni's fleet.
Giovanni had not lingered to fight, making a cowardly but tactical retreat all the way here. The High Marshal of the Black Templars was ecstatic upon seeing the new gene-seed, but his expression changed when he heard Giovanni's report.
"The Phalanx has been committed to the defense of Cadia!!!"
---o---