The sound of the vox was so sacred.
It made one feel as if their soul had been cleansed.
Saints are the embodiment of devout faith, the manifestation of the Emperor's will.
Their appearance is proof that humanity's hope has not vanished.
Phicres and Sicarius exchanged glances; even though they had met the Saint several times before, hearing that voice still filled them with awe.
"Open the void shields, permission to board," Guilliman's voice was perfectly calm.
Accompanied by the flickering light of the warp, a group of people appeared in the bridge control room.
Leading them was Celestine, clad in golden armor, with a pair of pure white wings on her back.
Her soft golden hair cascaded down, and her flawless female face was incredibly noble, leaving no room for sacrilege.
Behind the Saint stood a warrior in grey and white Terminator power armor, his helmet removed and placed at his waist, a heavy greatsword chained and bound to his hand.
"My Lord," Celestine bowed in greeting.
Guilliman nodded, then looked at the warrior behind Celestine, who exuded an aura different from that of a space marine.
"Allow me to introduce you; this is Clovis, leader and Champion of the Purifier Knight Order, attached to the Second Brotherhood of the Grey Knights. I encountered him while pursuing the traitors. He traversed the raging warp storm to seek you out in Ultramar, and he brings a very important message."
Celestine stepped aside, making space for Guilliman and Clovis, and introduced Clovis' origin: a Grey Knight Champion.
Humanity's eternal enemy is always Chaos.
The ultimate goal of those terrifying entities is not to utterly destroy humanity, but to corrupt, conquer, and eternally torment.
The Chaos Gods yearn for the universe to descend into eternal chaos, with all life becoming their playthings until the day the universe ceases to exist.
To prevent the collapse of the Imperium of Man, to prevent the flame of human civilization from being extinguished in the dark and brutal universe, and to preserve the last sliver of hope.
The Emperor left a contingency for humanity, and that is the Grey Knights.
The Grey Knights were created by the Emperor and Malcador.
In the twilight of the Horus Heresy, the eight founders of the Grey Knights were secretly summoned and granted a special mission.
These eight founders had absolute loyalty to the Imperium and humanity, knew the secrets of the warp, and each had faced daemons directly without being corrupted.
With the help of these eight individuals, the Emperor used gene-seed not belonging to any Primarch to forge a completely new Chapter.
And this new Chapter was placed on Saturn's cold moon - Titan.
While the Sol System was under siege by Horus and the traitor legions.
The Emperor used his powerful psyker abilities to sever Titan from the constraints of reality, concealing it within the warp.
Only when everything had settled did they return to real space and dedicate themselves to the fight against daemons.
This is the origin of the Grey Knights.
The common people of the Imperium, and even the nobility, have no record of the Grey Knights.
Unlike the preventative nature of the daemonhunters.
When the Grey Knights are deployed, it often signifies that the situation in that region has reached an unmanageable point.
For corrupted planets, the mildest outcome is universal sterilization.
In severe cases, orbital bombardment purges the surface, leaving no survivors.
The most terrifying aspect is that the Grey Knights are an entity within the Imperium that has no record of any betrayal.
Their loyalty is absolute.
"My Lord," Clovis saluted Guilliman, the servos in his armor humming, clearly indicating his armor was well-maintained.
"It is a pleasure to meet a Grey Knight. I thought you might have some reservations and be unwilling to see me," Guilliman smiled. There was a contingent of Grey Knights on Macragge, but he had ordered them to oversee unnatural power research.
"The Grey Knights are also excited about the return of the Primarch, it's just..." Clovis looked at Guilliman, his gaze somewhat heavy, hesitating to speak.
"You can speak freely, Clovis."
"I see a fate thread entangled with daemons on you. May I ask, have you been targeted by them?"
Clovis asked cautiously.
Seeing fate threads was Clovis' innate ability.
He could always see the fate threads of every life.
This talent helped him better hunt daemons and find their weaknesses.
"I was targeted ten thousand years ago, Clovis. There's no need to worry about that; they can neither corrupt nor easily harm me," Guilliman said with a shake of his head and a smile.
He stood up, descended from his throne, and stood before Clovis.
Even in Terminator armor, Clovis had to look up to see the Primarch's noble face.
"My Lord," Clovis said respectfully.
"Your sword is special," Guilliman sensed the aura of a daemon, his gaze fixed on Clovis' greatsword.
Clovis released the magnetic clasp and offered the greatsword with both hands.
It was an entirely black greatsword, etched with various twisted patterns.
These patterns were full of malice and corruption, and merely looking at them would firmly lodge them in people's minds, slowly eroding their sanity.
If one could not resist, they would become a slave to the black sword.
"This is the cursed black sword, within which a twisted daemon, Antar, is sealed. I hold the duty of Castellan and am ordered to guard it."
Guilliman reached out and took the black sword.
This made Clovis' heart tighten. The black sword had an extremely strong ability to corrupt hearts.
When the Grey Knight Brotherhood noticed this sword, it had already corrupted an entire planet, enslaving all life on it.
To cleanse the contamination it brought, the Grey Knights had to resort to exterminatus to destroy the entire world, contain the black sword, and entrust it to the strongest Grey Knight for safekeeping.
As if sensing the touch of another life, the Antar black sword trembled. It saw an opportunity to be released.
"Release me, and you shall gain supreme power. The entire galaxy will be shaped according to your will, mortal."
A strange voice echoed in Guilliman's mind, causing him to frown.
Clovis, who also heard the voice, looked tense. He shouldn't have brought the black sword to see the Primarch.
"Get out of my head, you low-grade daemon," Guilliman said, looking at the black sword.
"You dare to scorn me? Do you know who I am?"
The black sword trembled, as if a daemon was thrashing inside the greatsword, venting its rage.
"You seeking death, fool."
Guilliman let out a low growl, channeling the powerful will and authority belonging to a Primarch, as well as the power within the Emperor's Sword, slamming it fiercely into the entity attempting to pierce his mental world.
A shrill scream resounded, and the trembling black sword also calmed down.
Clovis' face was shocked. Since he had taken possession of this black sword, the daemon inside had been incessantly chattering, and now it was actually quiet.
Guilliman, however, showed no reaction to this.
Even a greater daemon under the Chaos Gods had been shamed and inscribed by him; how could a daemon imprisoned in a greatsword, not belonging to the Four Gods, possibly be his opponent?
"These daemons are always so annoying," Guilliman gripped the hilt, examining the twisted patterns, and looked at Clovis, "Does the daemon inside have any abilities?"
"I rarely use it; I merely carry this greatsword as part of my duty to guard it," Clovis said.
"Let's see what this daemon knows," Guilliman tapped the blade of the black sword with his hand.
"Its words are only lies, My Lord; there is no need to waste time," Clovis said, "I have something far more important to report on this trip."
"No rush," Guilliman waved his hand, indicating to Clovis that his matter could wait, and looked down at the black sword in his hand again, "When thugs face good people, they lie recklessly, but when facing people more ruthless than themselves, they become obedient, wishing they could pour out their hearts. Do you know why?"
Without waiting for Clovis to answer, Guilliman provided the answer,
"Because good people won't retaliate against them, while those ruthless people will make them suffer greatly. It's the same with daemons; when they face the weak, they are reckless, but when they face the strong, they are submissive."
Under the gaze of Celestine and Clovis, Guilliman walked back to his throne, picked up the Emperor's Sword, and golden flames rose from it. The bizarre patterns on the black sword began to flow, desperately trying to move away from the flames of the Emperor's Sword, scurrying around like rats about to be caught in a fire.
Piercing screams echoed in everyone's minds, twisted and full of malice.
"Tell me, daemon, what do you know? Your information will be my consideration for sparing your life."