Bridge of the glory of macragge.
Robert Guilliman's words, "State your conditions," were like a boulder thrown into a deep pool; before the echoes had even faded, they stirred up a thousand waves.
All the Ultramarines officers held their breath.
They waited for the other side to make exorbitant demands, such as ceding star sectors, demanding resources, or any other greedy and arrogant requests befitting the leader of an emerging power.
However, the voice transmitted through the communicator was calm, without a single ripple.
That cold, clear female voice sounded as if she were stating an established fact.
"My conditions are simple."
"Shut down the fire control systems of all your warships."
"Then, come to my ship alone, by shuttle."
In an instant.
The entire Imperial fleet's encrypted communication channel was flooded by a wave of anger.
"Absurd!"
An angry roar came from the Ultramarines' Chapter Master, Calgar.
"This is a trap! Lord Regent! The most despicable, the most shameless trap!"
"Make her disarm! Make her hand over hostages first! That is the proper posture for negotiations!"
"We cannot accept this! Absolutely not!"
Countless remonstrances and protests flooded toward the command dais like snowflakes.
In the eyes of any Imperial general, this was an irrational condition, tantamount to suicide.
To let the Empire's only Regent enter the flagship of a mysterious enemy, all alone?
This was the ultimate humiliation to the entire Imperial military force.
However, on the command dais.
Robert Guilliman merely raised his hand.
A simple gesture.
All the clamor ceased abruptly.
He ignored the anxious subordinates behind him.
This rational monarch merely stared silently at the lone signal point on the tactical star map that represented the genesis.
The contents of the report classified as top secret emerged in his mind like a brand.
"...In the target fleet, there appeared a suspected... presence of a female Primarch."
A trap?
Perhaps it was.
But what if it wasn't?
What if that one-in-ten-thousand possibility was real?
He could not sit here and judge based on the speculations of others.
He must confirm it with his own eyes.
At any cost.
As if able to penetrate the endless void and see through the struggle and resolution in his heart at this moment.
Leticia's cold, clear voice sounded once again.
"To put you at ease, and to show our sincerity."
"I can open a video communication first."
The moment the words fell.
Hum—
The video signal from the genesis was actively connected.
On the main screen of the glory of macragge, the standby screen representing the Ultramarines emblem vanished instantly.
The image flickered for less than a second before becoming incredibly clear.
It was a bridge so magnificent it did not seem like a mortal creation.
A woman like a goddess with hair as black as night was seated on a throne constructed of light and thorns.
Her very existence was an irrefutable majesty.
But Guilliman's gaze did not linger on her.
His eyes, his senses as a Primarch capable of discerning the finest details, were completely captivated by the three figures beside the throne!
On the left.
A tall Red-haired Valkyrie clad in dark red copper power armor.
She was looking back at the screen provocatively with eyes full of impatience and pure Battle Intent.
That red hair like burning lava.
Those amber eyes that seemed to be burning forever.
That... that pure fury, capable of tearing apart stars, which could still be felt through the screen!
Angron!
Guilliman's heart stopped abruptly.
On the right.
A silver-haired sword maiden with an elegant posture, as if carved from moonlight.
She just stood there quietly, the corners of her mouth holding a faint, proud curve befitting an artist.
That long silver hair flowing with radiance.
Those deep purple eyes that seemed to contain the star-filled seas.
That... that ultimate pursuit of "perfection," that breathtaking beauty already fused into the deepest part of her soul!
Fulgrim!
Guilliman's breathing began to quicken.
And between the two, slightly in front.
A golden-haired angel with huge, snowy white wings unfurled.
He was so perfect that he transcended any praise of poetry, filled with ultimate compassion and holiness.
But those sky-blue eyes, upon seeing the Ultramarines emblem on the screen, revealed a trace of unspeakable, deep compassion.
That pair of wings...
That holiness...
That... gentleness that carried the sorrow of the entire world.
Sanguinius!
Boom—!
How pale the words on the report were!
How powerless the intelligence officer's description was!
When these three beautiful faces, both familiar and strange, both contradictory and harmonious, appeared before his eyes through the clear video signal, truly and undeniably.
That impact, stemming from genes, from the soul, and from centuries of brotherhood, exploded in Guilliman's mental world like a supernova!
Robert Guilliman's tall body experienced its first slight, imperceptible, yet violent tremor in ten thousand years.
He gripped the edge of the command console with his power armor gauntlet, his five fingers tightening unconsciously.
Creak—
With a harsh, mournful sound, the hard adamantine handrail was squeezed by him into a clear dent.
His lungs, which had been modified and were capable of maintaining operation in a vacuum environment, emitted for the first time a short, difficult gasp, like a worn-out bellows.
On the bridge, all the Ultramarines officers stared in horror at their Regent.
Watching this demigod, who was always calm, always rational, and as indestructible as the Empire itself, reveal such a huge... flaw in front of them for the first time.
Dead silence.
A silence like a grave shrouded the entire bridge.
Time seemed to be stretched into eternity at this moment.
Finally.
A dry, hoarse voice, mixed with endless complex emotions, squeezed out from the depths of the Regent's throat.
Each word carried immense weight.
"...I..."
"Accept your conditions."
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