Guilliman's voice was not loud, but it possessed a special magic, piercing through the crowd and making the cheering populace even more excited.
The ragged, devout followers of the Imperial cult were so moved that they prostrated themselves, singing hymns praising the Emperor.
He had not forgotten humanity, allowing His son to awaken and return to help humanity escape this dark and terrifying world, ushering in a new future full of hope.
Some believers couldn't help but weep; they took out whips crackling with electricity and lashed their own bodies, enduring more pain to express their devotion to the Emperor.
"Look at him, child. He is the light of humanity, the salvation of humanity."
A woman lifted her baby, only a few months old, so he would remember the figure in the azure power armor.
"Long live the Emperor, long live Guilliman!" someone shouted the first cry.
"Long live the Emperor, long live Guilliman!" More people followed, shouting.
Eventually, everyone was shouting, soldiers and civilians alike were cheering.
A Primarch who had sworn to save them, made their hearts incredibly excited.
Guilliman was also astonished; the power of human faith on the Command Template was rapidly surging.
He also felt an invisible force continuously pouring into his body, making him stronger.
He even had a sense of delusion, feeling like he could fight ten greater daemons like the one just now.
And this was only the blessing from the Macragge system; what kind of scene would it be if he gained the blessing of all humanity in the Imperium?
Guilliman suddenly felt that fighting the Chaos Gods was something worth pursuing.
He needed to work hard, striving to punch the Blood God brute, kick the Slaanesh shemale, become king and overlord, dominate the battlefield, conquer the Warhammer universe, then conquer the multiverse, open a path home, and stage a scene of the God of War's return.
The battle ended, and Guilliman entered the inner city of Macragge under the protection of the Ultramarines.
The streets along the way were full of people, coming from all directions.
The shattered spaceport, still billowing black smoke, had a continuous stream of aircraft landing, all coming for him.
When these civilians looked at Guilliman, their eyes were red-rimmed, and being glanced at by him would make them cry uncontrollably, shouting titles like "Long live Guilliman."
Looking at these civilians, Guilliman thought they must be fanatics; he estimated it wouldn't be difficult to make them die for him.
Archmnagos Cawl of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Chapter Master Calgar followed behind Guilliman.
Guilliman's successful resurrection signified a glimmer of hope for humanity in this dark and desperate universe.
This greatly pleased the Archmagos; his millennia spent traveling the galaxy collecting various technologies for Guilliman's resurrection had not been in vain.
All the effort had finally paid off; the galaxy would enter a new era.
Guilliman, resurrected and returned, still adhered to his mission, fighting for humanity, fighting for the Emperor.
Even though the current Imperium had been torn apart by the Great Rift, and countless worlds had fallen into darkness, Archmnagos Cawl understood that as long as Guilliman returned, humanity still had hope to regroup and confront Chaos once more.
As for Chapter Master Calgar, his face was full of excitement, even a neural cable conduit on his head seemed to radiate excitement and joy.
The awakening of their genetic father made him and the other Ultramarines uncontrollably excited.
Celestine, Amarok, and others were also in the group, their faces equally ecstatic.
This was an unprecedented victory, not just for driving out the enemy, but more importantly, for Guilliman's return.
Guilliman, surrounded by his retinue, walked towards the inner city of Macragge, his gaze sweeping across the ancient city.
Behind the excited cheers of the people were the ruins of Macragge; while this battle had been won, a heavy price had been paid.
Countless civilians had died tragically under the rampage of the Chaos forces, their bodies lying in the ruins, awaiting collection.
Innumerable fearless defenders of the Imperium had also fallen, lying in trenches.
Shattered artillery and tanks were still burning fiercely, sparks flying from circuit boards, as if mourning the passing of lives.
Countless buildings had collapsed under the bombardment of the Chaos forces, and humanity's artistic treasures had been reduced to ashes.
Macragge had won the victory, but it was already scarred and battered.
His resurrection had temporarily suppressed their sorrow, but this sorrow would eventually be released.
The war between Chaos and the Imperium would continue, and thinking of this, Guilliman's joy of being able to fight ten of those greater daemons was considerably diluted.
Guilliman understood that countless more people would fall in the war; to achieve victory, to ensure the survival of humanity, countless more lives would be lost.
Every turn of the wheels of fate would be filled with the ashes of human heroes, solely to defend human survival and dignity.
'I just hope everything turns out well. I certainly don't want to be captured by the Chaos Gods and turned into a toy.'
Thinking this, Guilliman composed himself.
Surrounded by the retinue, he walked through the cheering crowd and returned to the damaged sanctuary.
Bodies, rubble, and shattered daemon Engines and Dreadnoughts, these heavy war machines, had already been cleared and transported elsewhere.
In the sanctuary, various Chapter high-ranking officers, Archmnagos Cawl, and Saint Celestine paid their respects to Guilliman in turn, and through their accounts, Guilliman gained a clear understanding of the current state of the Imperium in all its aspects.
Even though he had fully prepared himself mentally, what Guilliman heard still made his heart tremble.
The fall of Cadia, the Great Rift tearing the entire galaxy apart, countless daemons manifesting physically and invading human worlds, causing indescribable horror and casualties.
Not a single world had been spared, all were rampaged or harassed by terrifying daemons, mutants, or traitors.
Undoubtedly, the current Imperium had long since deviated from the Emperor and the Primarchs' original vision, becoming the very thing they most detested, entering the darkest and most desperate age.
The Imperium of the past was built by the Emperor and the Primarchs with countless efforts; it was a golden age filled with hope and triumph.
People emerged from ignorance, re-embracing science and reason, and the Imperial expeditions spread the Emperor's light to every planet.
That was a beautiful and hopeful time.
After listening to Celestine, Calgar, and others' descriptions of the current situation, Guilliman, citing his need for solitude, asked them all to leave.
Standing by the broken window, watching people outside the sanctuary carrying bodies, Guilliman sighed softly.
"Horus, you truly are unforgivable."
The aftershocks of the Horus Heresy still reverberated ten thousand years later.
Abaddon, formerly the First captain of the Sons of Horus Legion and the most loyal to Horus, had become the new Warmaster of the Chaos Gods during the years since the Primarchs departed, launching attacks on the Imperium time and time again.
Over ten thousand years of suffering and war, the Imperium, in order to survive, had slowly abandoned reason and the future, becoming a bloated, absurd, ignorant, and cruel bureaucratic entity.
Not a single trace of reason or hope could be seen; only fear, hatred, and ignorance sustained this vast zombie's last breath!
The Primarch Guilliman was an out-and-out idealist; even among his brothers, none had, like him in the past, so hopefully envisioned a bright future.
The physical memory affected his soul, causing it sadness.
Humanity had suffered greatly for ten thousand years; their enemies crowded the small galaxy.
Traitors and Chaos daemons plundered them without restraint, and some xenos races from beyond the galaxy also attacked them fiercely.
Today's humanity is arguably much worse off than during the Great Crusade era.
Compared to the Golden Age, it could even be described as tragic.
"A completely new plan is needed," Guilliman mused. Helping the Imperium win against Chaos was not just for humanity, but also for himself.
The Chaos Gods paid a lot of attention to the Primarchs; if he failed, his soul would surely fall into the hands of those entities. At that time, he would truly be unable to live or die, suffering torment for all eternity.
He couldn't afford to lose; if he lost, it would truly be terrible.