The moment Calgar's gaze locked onto those Aeldari performers, the other party seemed to detect that razor-sharp stare.
The lead dancer—a Harlequin—momentarily froze mid-leap during a dizzying tumble. His face, covered in stage paint, met Calgar's eyes on the viewing platform with pinpoint precision. Then, in another dazzling spin, he and the other dancers performed an elegant bow toward Calgar.
In the next heartbeat, the light atop the float shimmered slightly. The slender figures seemed to dissolve into the air, vanishing and leaving behind only a bewildered crowd of citizens who continued their enthusiastic cheering, unaware of what had transpired.
"Damned xenos!"
Calgar's heart sank as his combat instincts instantly overrode everything else. He was about to activate the communication channels to mobilize the honor guards and surveillance systems hidden around the plaza to corner and capture these bold xenos.
However, before Calgar's order could be issued, another anomaly occurred.
On the viewing platform, about ten meters away from Guilliman, the air distorted silently. There was no thunderous energy roar typical of an Imperial Warp portal opening—only a faint ripple of psychic energy, like a passing breeze. The disturbance was so small it was nearly undetectable; the boiling masses of citizens below noticed nothing at all.
But the people on the platform reacted with lightning speed.
The Legion veterans who had been chatting casually with their genetic father just a second ago—be it Auguston, Ventanus, or the others—lost their smiles instantly. Their movements were so fast they left afterimages. With startling coordination, they converged to form a solid wall of azure power armor, shielding Guilliman behind them. Their bolters were raised in unison, muzzles pointing coldly at the center of the ripple.
The light stabilized, and three figures manifested.
The pale face of Farseer Eldrad Ulthran was calm and featureless, the gems on his staff shimmering with a faint light. Behind him followed two Aeldari kin clad in form-fitting wraithbone armor, their stances as light as cats—clearly bodyguards.
However, his inner state was not as calm as his exterior suggested.
Since parting ways with the Veilwalker on an Aeldari Craftworld, Ulthran had begun his journey, racing across the galaxy to find that crucial variable protected by the human deity. Unfortunately, with his prophetic abilities rendered useless and his poor reputation among the various Craftworlds preventing him from receiving further aid, he had found nothing.
Just then, violent waves surged within the Warp. Through psychic divination, Ulthran foresaw that the son of the Emperor, the Primarch Guilliman who had slept for ten thousand years, had awakened.
Ulthran's reaction was one of pure shock: Wait, what?
Thus, he immediately traveled through a secret Webway gate hidden on Macragge, arriving here at maximum speed.
Eldrad Ulthran ignored the lethal weapons pointed at him. He cleared his throat and spoke in clear High Gothic, his voice steady.
"Set aside your hostility, warriors of the Imperium of Man. We come now in peace, and to seek dialogue."
His gaze went directly to Roboute Guilliman, who was protected behind the guard.
"In the distant past, I once shared wine and conversation with your Emperor—that majestic being who sits upon the Golden Throne—exploring the mysteries of the stars and destiny. I have also had exchanges with many of your Primarchs."
He paused, a flash of complex reminiscence appearing in his dark eyes. "Even during the dark years you call the 'Great Rebellion,' I was once an enemy to the traitorous Primarch Fulgrim. Clearly, we share a common foe here."
Guilliman's eyes were like a hawk's, scanning Ulthran and the Aeldari behind him. He raised a hand in a clear downward gesture. Although the circle of guards did not immediately disperse, the Ultramarines' tense killing intent softened slightly, and their muzzles lowered.
At this moment, Guilliman noticed a trace of self-reproach on Tigurius's face beside him. Evidently, even the Chief Librarian had failed to foresee that these Aeldari would appear in such a manner at this moment.
"State your intent, messenger of the Aeldari," Guilliman said.
Ulthran nodded slightly, seemingly unsurprised by Guilliman's directness.
"First, allow me to express my... congratulations on your return, Roboute Guilliman. For a demigod to break free from a ten-thousand-year slumber is an event worthy of our attention, even in the long history of the galaxy."
What is this? This xenos can actually speak like a civilized person?
Such a thought involuntarily surfaced in the minds of the Ultramarines. Generally speaking, shouldn't these pointed-eared xenos be exceptionally arrogant, speaking in riddles with obscure meanings? Why was he being so polite?
Then, they heard the Aeldari continue.
"However, the veil of destiny has been stirred. In our foresight, the path after your awakening is not a smooth one. You must travel to Terra, the sacred core of the Imperium of Man. But this route has long been shrouded by covetous gazes from the depths of the Warp. Those evils lurking behind the veil hunger to take you—the returned son of the Emperor—into their grasp, either to corrupt or consume. Your life and will will be a feast they crave."
"And we shall provide assistance to help you escape such a fate."
"Impudence!" an Ultramarine officer growled, and the surrounding warriors showed expressions of anger.
Guilliman's face remained as calm as water. He raised his hand, once again stopping his sons' agitation, his mind working rapidly. He had heard of the Aeldari's prophetic abilities ten thousand years ago; although they were filled with uncertainty and often vague, their warning value could not be ignored.
Should he accept the "help" of these ancient xenos? What hidden costs and intentions lay within?
As Guilliman weighed the pros and cons, thinking about how to respond to this sudden offer of cooperation, a voice tinged with slight amusement sounded directly in his ear.
It was Adam.
"It seems the prophecies of those Aeldari have become quite inaccurate."
"Rest assured, Regent. I guarantee your journey to Terra will be a perfectly smooth path."
As he spoke, Adam shook his head speechlessly. It seemed the secrecy surrounding the Eternity Gates was very high; even the Aeldari with their prophetic powers were completely unaware of them.
This was hardly surprising. After all, even the Chaos Powers of the Warp knew nothing about it. If they knew the Empire was on the verge of escaping its dependence on the Warp—given their wariness of the Emperor's Webway Project during the Great Crusade—they would likely have begun reacting violently by now.
However, currently, the Mobile Task Force Lambda-5 "White Rabbit" from the Custodes had already deployed a sufficient number of Eternity Gates within the Empire, and no daemons had appeared to sabotage or obstruct them. This was far more convenient than the Webway!
Wait...
Adam froze for a moment. He suddenly thought of a blind spot in his reasoning that he hadn't considered before.
Adam muttered, "Is this because the Chaos Gods are not omniscient regarding the material universe and haven't discovered my plan? Or is it because I took it for granted that my plan couldn't be discovered by them, and thus an unconscious reality war—"
Wait, stop.
Don't think about it any further.
In this life, it's a blessing to remain somewhat ignorant.
He quickly reached back into the air and pulled out a bottle of Class-E Amnestic produced by the Site—Ennui—and gave his nose a quick spray.
The principle of this drug is to induce psychological complacency, sometimes described as an "anti-nostalgia" drug. While they still target memory-related neural pathways, this amnestic does not deconsolidate memories; it merely weakens the pathways while detaching any emotional connection to the memory and eliminating any motivation to recall it, thereby allowing the memory itself to decay naturally.
"...What was I just thinking about?"
Adam glanced at the object in his hand and immediately understood roughly what had happened. He shook his head in silence. He truly hadn't expected that after completing his reality ascension and becoming a Level 3 Reality Warper, he would still need to use such primitive methods.
On the viewing platform, Guilliman had no way of knowing what was happening on Adam's side. Although he didn't know the specifics of Adam's arrangements, the absolute confidence revealed in the brief transmission he had just received was undoubtedly the crucial reassurance he needed.
His mind was made up instantly.
The expression on Guilliman's face returned to that of a steady and detached politician.
"Thank you for your warning, Farseer of the Aeldari." Guilliman's voice was steady, betraying little emotion. "The Imperium has never relaxed its vigilance against potential threats. Ultramar and the Ultramarines possess sufficient power to defend their own routes. Regarding the future journey and the risks we may encounter, we have our own considerations and preparations."
He skillfully avoided a direct refusal while also not accepting the so-called cooperation, using official rhetoric to blur the topic.
...It didn't work?
Ulthran listened quietly and sighed in his heart. His original plan was that if he could travel with this son of the Emperor, it would certainly be easier to find that human variable.
Otherwise? Arriving at Macragge so quickly was already the result of Ulthran's extreme reaction speed; how could he have had time to perform another accurate prophecy on Guilliman's destiny?
And his plan had clearly failed.
As the words fell, his form and those of the two Aeldari bodyguards behind him became blurred and transparent again, like mist melting into the sunlight, silently vanishing from the spot as if they had never appeared.
The tense atmosphere on the viewing platform slowly relaxed as well.