Chapter 50: Aftermath of the Great Battle
A gust of wind swept across the battlefield, stirring the white ashes and sending them swirling between the two towering figures.
Imperial Regent Roboute Guilliman stood in his slightly battered Armor of Fate, his gauntleted hand unconsciously flexing as if trying to grasp the hem of a robe that was no longer there.
Opposite him stood the returned Primarch, Mortarion. Light armor formed from psionic energy covered his body, faintly glowing. Without the familiar respirator and hood, his pale face was fully revealed—yet it still carried the same distant, unapproachable aura.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Around them, the Ultramarines stood frozen like statues.
Captain Sicarius attempted to step forward but was quietly stopped by Marneus Calgar.
Tribune Colquan lifted his Guardian Spear halfway before lowering it again, clearly realizing that even the Adeptus Custodes' tactical manuals had no entry for "awkward reunion between Primarch brothers."
The silence was suffocating.
Just as everyone began to suspect that this standoff might last another thousand years—
Footsteps sounded.
"Tap. Tap. Tap."
Eileen squeezed between the two giants.
She first looked up at the blue giant on her left—Guilliman—whose serious expression looked as if he was about to deliver a grand speech about the fate of the galaxy.
Then she glanced at the pale giant on her right—Mortarion—who seemed strangely fascinated by the ashes beneath his feet.
Eileen sighed deeply.
Her tone was exactly like a younger sister scolding two sulking older brothers.
"You two together are over twenty thousand years old, right?"
"So why are you acting like the kids in my alley who want to make up after a fight but are too stubborn to say it?"
Guilliman's eyebrow twitched slightly.
Mortarion turned his head away.
Eileen didn't give them time to respond.
She stretched out both hands—small hands still smeared with blood.
Standing on tiptoe, she grabbed Guilliman's little finger with her left hand and Mortarion's cold psionic little finger with her right.
Then she pulled hard.
The force was nothing to Primarchs—but both giants obediently leaned closer until their eyes met.
"Listen up, you two big idiots."
One Ultramarines recruit gasped quietly, only to be instantly silenced by the terrifying stares of several Company Captains—and even the golden-armored Custodian nearby.
Eileen looked up at them, face dirty but eyes bright and relaxed.
"Those disgusting monsters are gone now. Whatever grudges you had before, whatever serious matters you were arguing about—forget it for now."
Then she rubbed her stomach dramatically and announced with absolute sincerity:
"The important thing right now… is that I'm hungry!"
"I'm starving! I've eaten nothing but compressed biscuits all day, and I've thrown up three times!"
She tugged on both Primarchs' fingers like someone issuing a royal decree.
"Now that Robert's brother is back and the family is reunited, I want food! Hot steak! Lots and lots of chocolate and pudding!"
"Right now! Immediately!"
The air froze.
Then—
"Pfft…"
A strange sound escaped Guilliman's mouth.
The Lord Commander of the Imperium—the man who carried the burden of the entire empire on his shoulders, who calculated logistics even while dining—began trembling.
Then he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha… Hahahaha!!"
Guilliman threw his head back and laughed without restraint.
There was no exhaustion in that laughter.
Only relief.
He laughed so hard tears ran down his face, even bending forward and bracing himself on his knees.
"Eat… yes… eat…"
He wiped his eyes while laughing and looked toward Mortarion.
The barrier in his gaze finally vanished.
Mortarion watched his brother laugh, then lowered his eyes to the girl gripping his finger.
His expression softened.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
The smile looked awkward—almost unfamiliar—but it was undeniably real.
A human smile.
"Family reunion…" Mortarion murmured hoarsely.
Guilliman straightened up and gently held Eileen's hand.
Then he looked at Mortarion and spoke warmly.
"You heard her, brother."
"Everyone heard Little Eileen's orders."
"We are returning to the Radiance of Macragge. Eat as much as you want."
He paused, then winked at Mortarion—a gesture he had probably never made toward him before.
"And I guarantee, in the Regent's name…"
"This time, there will be absolutely no broccoli on the table."
---
[Imperial War Archives – Edge of the Starfield]
Top Secret File 013-Alpha
Access Level: Inquisition Representatives / Space Marine Chapter Masters / High Lords of Terra
Recorder: Maxim Ciro
Entry: Summary Report – "Purification War of Plenty III" and the Subsequent "Reconquest of the Star System"
In the name of the God-Emperor.
This record documents one of the greatest miracles of the 42nd Millennium.
Even as a historian who has recorded forty years of war, my sanity trembles while writing this.
According to casualty statistics, the mortal auxiliary forces of Ultramar suffered 84% casualties. The XX Armored Regiment was completely annihilated. The Ultramarines themselves paid a heavy price, and the First Company suffered severe losses.
Yet the results section contained only four words:
Complete Purification.
Plenty III—once a plague-choked death world of toxic swamps and pestilential storms—was transformed in just two weeks into a barren but clean world with breathable air and clear water.
According to eyewitness testimony, this miracle originated from the movements of a Holy Carrier named Eileen.
Wherever she walked, corruption receded and the dead found peace.
She was like walking order itself—a living divine scripture.
[Old Huang's comment: Bullshit! These writers exaggerate everything! I was the one working overtime as a walking air purifier and power bank for Mortarion's half-finished body, and it all becomes a "divine miracle"! My back almost broke!]
---
Edge of the Starfield – Defaron System
The war did not end with the victory on Plenty III.
Instead, with Mortarion's return, a massive counteroffensive campaign began.
A war unprecedented even by the standards of the Codex Astartes.
On battlefields shrouded in toxic green fog, the armies of Nurgle fought desperately.
Great Unclean Ones wielded rusted blades and plague flails, relying on their regeneration and toxic miasma to stall the Imperial advance.
Unfortunately for them, they faced an absurdly powerful lineup.
"Robert! Thirty degrees left—strike the abscess node!"
A pale streak shot across the sky.
Mortarion.
Though his body was sustained purely by psionic power, he knew every weakness of Nurgle's creations.
With a giant scythe formed of psychic energy, he moved like a ghost, phasing through obstacles and cutting straight through the daemonic lines.
"Understood!"
Below him, Guilliman charged forward wielding the Emperor's Sword.
The Hand of Dominion thundered as he smashed through the enemy ranks exactly where Mortarion directed.
"Seal the gate! Release the—ah—divine power!"
Behind Guilliman, Sergeant Varo sprinted across the battlefield with Eileen sitting on his shoulders like a commander riding a tank turret.
She chewed chocolate calmly and raised her hand.
"Whoosh—!"
A golden halo spread across the battlefield.
The Great Unclean Ones slowed instantly. Their regeneration failed. The toxic gas became harmless air.
"No! Father! This isn't fair!"
One daemon screamed in despair.
A second later, Mortarion's scythe descended from the sky and sliced it apart like cake.
"Perfect teamwork," Guilliman said, punching through another daemon's ribcage.
He gave a thumbs-up to the sky.
Mortarion responded silently with a small flourish of his scythe.
The Ultramarines and the Death Guard—fighting together once more.
With Eileen acting as a mobile "invincible buff beacon."
Against this combination, Nurgle's famed war of attrition was utterly useless.
Within one month, every plague outpost along Ultramar's borders—except the distant fortress known as the Three Furnaces—was destroyed.
This was no longer war.
It was cleanup.
---
The Radiance of Macragge – Primarch Rest Area
After a month of relentless fighting, the campaign finally ended.
Eileen sprawled across a soft sofa with her feet on the table, chugging soda.
"Burp… I'm exhausted."
She complained, "Old Huang, are you sure that was a war? It felt more like cleaning duty."
[At least you had it easy.] Old Huang replied weakly.
[You just glowed. I was the one doing all the calculations.]
At that moment, the door slid open.
Guilliman entered, followed by Mortarion.
Mortarion's face looked paler than usual.
"How are you feeling, brother?" Guilliman asked with concern.
Mortarion sat down carefully.
His body… was becoming transparent.
The once solid, marble-like form had grown faint enough that the chair behind him could be seen through it.
"I can feel the strain," he said quietly, looking at his translucent hand.
"This psionic body Father created is powerful—but maintaining it for a month has placed a heavy burden on Eileen."
He glanced toward her.
"And if I move too far from her… this body will begin to dissolve. I cannot remain a ghost bound to one location forever."
Guilliman nodded gravely.
"Eileen mentioned Father said the same thing. You need a true vessel—a physical body capable of containing a Primarch's soul without Warp corruption."
Mortarion shook his head.
"I will not return to… that existence."
His eyes darkened.
"I refuse to be mutilated and stuffed back into an iron coffin."
Guilliman shook his head.
"No crude surgery."
He walked to the star map and entered a set of coordinates.
A massive mechanical ark appeared on the screen, disguised as an asteroid at the edge of the system.
"We're going to visit someone."
Guilliman turned back to Mortarion and Eileen.
"He is the most unconventional, most insane—and most brilliant technologist in the Imperium."
"Perhaps the only one capable of touching the forbidden domain of creating life."
The symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus appeared.
Below it was a name written in Gothic script:
Belisarius Cawl
Flagship: King of Explorers
Inside Eileen's mind, Old Huang reacted immediately.
[Oh? So we're finally meeting the legendary "Guilliman's Wish-Granting Machine," Belisarius Cawl?]
[I've heard plenty about him. A mad scientist who even experiments with alien tech.]
His voice carried clear excitement.
[Interesting. I want to see what the greatest scientist in the Warhammer universe actually looks like.]
Guilliman gave the order.
"Prepare for departure."
"Destination: the King of Explorers."
"For the rebirth… of my brother."