What was... that?
Magnus fell silent, his single eye widening until it was perfectly round, the depths of his pupil reflecting the rising light.
He couldn't understand it.
He completely failed to comprehend it.
Even as one of the absolute top minds in the field of psychic power in this universe, Magnus had always possessed unwavering confidence. Yet, facing what Sanguinius was displaying at this very moment, he fell into total and utter confusion.
Beneath his massive psychic giant form, the glow of psychic energy flickered within Magnus's single eye. He was analyzing the energy the other party was manifesting at maximum speed.
It looked closely tied to the Warp—Magnus could sense that clearly, without a doubt. However, the concepts and authority contained within it were things Magnus simply could not analyze.
The moment his psychic perception touched the light surrounding Sanguinius, it felt like a single drop of water falling into a vast ocean; he could only barely perceive a mass of things that defied definition.
He tried desperately to find some sort of familiar approximation.
Faith?
Salvation?
Hope?
Guidance?
None of them felt quite right, yet they all seemed vaguely similar.
He did, however, understand one thing—Magnus could see a massive torrent of faith flowing into Sanguinius's body, causing the Angel's power to skyrocket at a terrifying speed. The radiance erupting from his body and between his wings was making Magnus's massive psychic giant form look dim by comparison.
Yet, the method of absorbing this faith was completely beyond Magnus's comprehension.
It defied logic.
Faith carried a cost.
By all rights, the sheer efficiency with which Sanguinius was absorbing faith should have caused his consciousness to collapse under the psychic backlash almost immediately. He should have ended up like their father, slumped upon the Golden Throne, trapped in a civil war between countless personalities within his own mind, ultimately losing his sense of self.
Yet, Sanguinius's expression remained completely calm and composed.
Magnus felt as though the mental shock he had received today outweighed everything he had experienced across his entire ten-thousand-year life combined.
"How are you doing this?"
Driven by the unyielding thirst for knowledge churning in his mind, Magnus finally could not help but ask. His voice boomed from his mouth like thunder from the heavens, rolling across the scorched earth of Cadia.
"You probably didn't know, Magnus."
Sanguinius spoke calmly, the wings behind his back fanning gently in the air, each stroke seeming to stir golden ripples in the void. "When Father designed us, the hopes he placed in us and the intended applications for our abilities were different."
He paused slightly.
"In this regard, I actually quite agree with a certain Archmagos' view. Different Primarchs, and even different Astartes Legions, all possess their own unique utility."
Sanguinius gently extended a finger.
"And this."
He looked calmly at the sky-piercing psychic giant, his voice carrying no hint of boasting, only a declaration that brooked no argument.
"Showing you this—it is the hope Father placed within me."
"What kind of sci-fi story are you telling me?"
Magnus completely lost his composure.
He felt this was the first time today he had experienced such an intense emotional shock. Even after his earlier clownish behavior, Magnus had not been this red-hot with rage and frustration.
"You don't believe me?"
Sanguinius's smile faded slightly. An earnest expression emerged on that face, which had been rendered flawlessly in countless Imperial sculptures.
"Then, let me show you."
"A single second to defeat you."
That's impossible—
Before Magnus's thought could even fully form, his single eye widened in sheer terror.
His massive psychic giant form suddenly tensed all over. Brilliantly blinding psychic radiance erupted from his body, and countless Chaos runes flashed frantically across his skin. The light from the giant illuminated the Cadian sky like a wall composed of pure psychic energy.
Yet, at the exact same instant he completed his defense—Sanguinius moved.
It was a light that defied description. Sanguinius himself seemed to transform into a second sun rising over the horizon.
He raised the Blade Encarmine high into the air.
That weapon, revered by the citizens of the Imperium for ten thousand years, began to gather an indescribable power under the shroud of light. The blinding brilliance wound upward like a soaring dragon, spiraling along the blade.
Then, a piercing pillar of light abruptly shot skyward.
It tore through the clouds, tore through the veil of the Warp, and tore through the eternal gloom hanging over Cadia.
A giant sword that reached the heavens stood revealed before everyone's eyes. Its size was so immense that it could be seen clearly from half a hemisphere away on Cadia's surface!
This is imposs—
The thought surged in Magnus's mind for the second time.
But it was already too late.
Mid-air, Sanguinius swung the sword down with an agility that completely defied its massive size. His movement was so nonchalant, as if he were holding a common blade rather than a colossal weapon capable of piercing the vault of heaven.
This is un—
Magnus's third thought rose again.
But this time, he was completely and utterly too late to make any response.
His defenses, his psychic power, his Chaos runes, everything he took pride in—all appeared utterly laughable before that giant sword.
The blade fell.
BOOM—!!!
The heavens seemed to split apart.
A trench of sword-light spanning dozens of kilometers tore across the surface of Cadia, carving a deep chasm into the scorched earth.
Magnus's psychic giant form began to collapse from the waist up.
A deep, colossal wound tore horizontally across his entire torso. It was a scar left by the brilliant light of faith upon a body of Chaos, a wound that absolutely could not be mended. The glow of psychic energy erupted from the laceration like a dam completely bursting.
Half of Magnus's massive body crashed down.
The scene looked like a mega-structure slowly toppling to the ground.
Rumble!
The earth shook and the mountains trembled.
Dust and smoke billowed hundreds of meters high into the air, and a shockwave rippled outward along the ground, knocking down countless watching Astartes warriors.
Cut clean in half!
This—
Magnus's mind went entirely blank.
He felt his psychic energy dissipating, his giant form shrinking instantly like a punctured balloon.
He reverted to his original shape.
The mangled, massive, crimson body of the Daemon Primarch crashed heavily onto the scorched earth of Cadia.
And right then, Magnus saw those eyes once more.
Sanguinius had already landed in front of him. Those pale gold eyes looked down, gazing at him with pity.
"—Brother," Magnus spoke with great difficulty, his voice hoarse and weak, dark red blood still pouring continuously from his chest.
Right at that moment, Sanguinius raised his head thoughtfully.
He felt it.
The power of Chaos was coalescing.
It was the handiwork of Tzeentch.
The tides behind the veil of the Warp were surging once more. The swirling, shifting mists churned, and within them, a massive, cunning eye was slowly opening.
It wanted to mimic the actions of the previous Chaos God—Khorne had taken Angron away, and now, Tzeentch wanted to whisk Magnus's consciousness away, to snatch his unique treasure from beneath Sanguinius's blade.
However, it was glaringly obvious that the same trick would not work a second time.
Behind the veil, another flash of golden light flowed past.
Sanguinius could feel it.
It was Father's power.
The power of that entity who had sat upon the Golden Throne for ten thousand years was flowing, locked in combat with that presence.
Golden light and blue mist clashed violently behind the veil of the Warp, each collision whipping up waves that defied mortal imagination. The golden light guarded this pocket of space, causing the rift to slowly close.
"I say, Sanguinius—"
Realizing he had no more trump cards left to play, Magnus's face twisted into an awkward expression.
"Could you perhaps let me—I mean, I can love the Imperium too."
Then, he heard an answer that was completely unexpected.
"Sure."
A sudden flash of malicious, playful humor surfaced on Sanguinius's face. It was an expression Magnus had never once seen on the Angel. On that face, which had maintained flawless dignity and solemnity ever since his resurrection, there was now a look of sheer mischief and amusement.
"Brother, what did you just say?"
Magnus froze.
Before he could even speak again, he saw Sanguinius pull something out of his pocket.
What... was that?
Magnus narrowed his eye.
It looked like a small, red-and-white ball?
The sphere was only the size of Sanguinius's palm. The top half was red, the bottom half was white, and there was a small button right in the middle. Its exterior looked utterly ordinary, even somewhat childish, like a little toy used for entertainment.
A terrible premonition welled up from the depths of Magnus's heart.
"Wait—"
But before Magnus could finish his sentence, Sanguinius tossed his hand.
A streak of radiant, shifting light flashed across the air.
The small ball traced an arc through the sky, smacking accurately right against Magnus's forehead. Then, it abruptly popped open. A red beam of light erupted from the sphere, enveloping Magnus's entire body.
Magnus's voice cut off instantly.
His body turned into a mass of red, flowing light, rapidly shrinking inside the shroud of that radiance before being sucked straight into the small ball.
Click.
The small ball snapped shut.
It landed right back into Sanguinius's hand.
Everything fell into absolute silence.
Sanguinius looked down at the little ball in his hand, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.
"This should do it, right?"
He muttered to himself very softly, as if asking for someone's opinion, or perhaps confirming a certain outcome.
"Truly worthy of something whipped up by that particular individual. Marvelous indeed."
Sanguinius nodded slightly and carefully stowed the Master Ball containing the Daemon Primarch away—placing it inside a specially sewn pocket within the inner lining of his armor.
Then, Sanguinius looked up.
The battlefield was dead silent.
Suddenly, Sanguinius soared into the sky.
His pair of immaculate white wings snapped open behind his back, and pure white light erupted from his entire body. The brilliance pierced through the eternal gloom hanging over Cadia, shrouding the entire battlefield in a golden radiance.
His figure was so conspicuous, and the blinding light so intense, that every single person who looked up—whether Blood Angel or World Eater—was forced to narrow their eyes.
All the Chaos Astartes who had failed to retreat in time due to the sudden defeat of their genetic father immediately realized the downfall of their faction.
Their fate was sealed.
"For the Emperor—!"
The battle cry of the Blood Angels was the first to ring through the sky.
Then came the shout of the Cadians.
"For Cadia—!"
On the ground, the Cadian soldiers clad in khaki uniforms raised their lasguns high, unleashing a roaring tide of voices.
"For Sanguinius—!"
It was unclear who yelled it first.
But then, the entire battlefield boiled over.
The Blood Angels lunged at the routing Chaos Astartes like a golden torrent. Power swords and chainswords wove a grid of death across the battlefield, the roar of bolters pounding like drumbeats. Crimson blood mixed together on the scorched earth, painting the land into a grand, tragic canvas.
The Cadian System.
In the void of space.
"Primarch, word has come from Cadia. Lord Sanguinius has resolved the Daemon Primarch's intrusion, securing our rear. We are in unanimous agreement that it is time to move."
The Chapter Master of the Iron Hands gave a calm military salute, though his tone still carried a trace of disbelief.
Although the news of Sanguinius's resurrection had already been relayed to the interior of the Imperium via Astropath, the shock it brought was enough to keep people from settling down for a long time. Furthermore, the news that multiple genetic Primarchs were simultaneously present on the battlefield left the traditionally honor-bound Astartes somewhat at a loss.
This blessing had simply come too suddenly.
Even the battle-hardened Iron Hands Chapter Master was no exception.
Up on the bridge, Ferrus merely nodded calmly upon hearing the news. He possessed one hundred percent trust in his brother's combat prowess and capabilities. Those brothers who had long since fallen in the Warp naturally could not stand in his way.
"Then, we can make our move as well."
He raised his head, looking out through the viewport at the battlefield where the fight was raging in the void.
After a period of bitter warfare, the battle between the Hope and the Unity had finally reached a decisive conclusion.
A massive amount of wreckage drifted quietly in the void.
Shattered armor plating, twisted keel structures, torn engine nozzles, and debris that had long lost its original form drifted slowly within the gravitational field of the Cadian System. They reflected the cold light of the distant star, dragging icy trails through the dark void.
Shattered objects filled the field of view in every direction.
Among them were all sorts of structures and faults that even Ferrus, a genetic Primarch specializing in mechanics, could not identify. Those were legacies left behind by the Dark Age of Technology, techniques long lost to time, and proof of humanity's former glory. They should have been treasured in museums, studied, and restored—but now, they were merely garbage floating in the void.
The various unique technologies of the Dark Age of Technology were laid bare at this moment, but unfortunately, it was all a thing of the past.
The ultimate victory was etched into the void outside the Cadian System!
Which meant—the Unity had won!
However, it had been an exceptionally arduous battle nonetheless. Even the Unity, armed to the teeth with exotic weaponry forged from reality-warping capabilities, was now forced to retreat within the heavy defensive line formed by the Phalanx to rest and refit, unable to participate in the coming battle.
But this was entirely enough.
The traitors' reliance had been utterly shattered.
Ferrus Manus stood up, his gaze deep and his tone resolutely firm, cutting through the air like steel: "The days of the traitors' arrogance are over. Let us go and end this!"
As the Gorgon, the genetic Primarch of the Iron Hands, Ferrus had no intention of cowering inside the system's fortifications for too long. He had to settle scores once and for all with that former close brother of his!