"First, I am not a Primarch, just an ordinary human. Second, tell me what is happening right now."
Zhou Ye repeated himself, looking at the three figures who had frozen solid at his appearance. He wasn't the son of that Golden Fiend. Damn it, at this point, he'd rather make the Golden Fiend his own son. Though, if he were to actually have that conversation with the Golden Fiend, the old geezer would probably agree to it. But that would be even more disgusting. An old fart who's been alive for fifty or sixty thousand years... what the hell are you even talking about?
But when Zhou Ye's words fell, the three people before him all shot him a look that screamed, Do you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?
For a moment, Zhou Ye was at a loss. He didn't know what to say. Standing over four meters tall, with a host of guards in master-crafted power armor behind him... when he said he wasn't a Primarch, people probably weren't inclined to believe him.
"The God-Emperor has shown me the way! Great Son of the Emperor! Primarch!!!" Celestine declared.
"I am not a Primarch!!!" Zhou Ye denied again. Then, as if remembering something, he opened a golden portal beside him and forcefully yanked a gloomy but currently bewildered figure through it. "See? He's a Primarch."
"Is this your Warp essence?" Konrad Curze asked with a flicker of curiosity, looking at the people before him, then at Zhou Ye's honor guard, and finally at the portal still shimmering on his own body.
He had just been unceremoniously punted out of his arena. His gene-seed and its new recipients had been taken to a special room where, he was told, time flowed much faster than outside. He found this all incredibly interesting, because he discovered he could not see the futures of the people here.
For Konrad Curze, this was a pure delight. He knew what Chaos was, and what he truly sought was simple. First, to have a legion of sons free from sin and stain. Second, to be able to forge the future with his own hands. Especially after taking that massive psychic slap to the face, his mental state had improved considerably. He found that his prophetic visions were no longer a passive torment, but an active ability he could control.
In reality, it was the failsafe Zhou Ye had planted in him, which was saturated with a massive amount of Imaginary energy. The result, completely unknown to Zhou Ye himself, was that his meddling had miraculously interfered with Konrad Curze's passive ability. It had essentially sealed the Primarch's curse, but because he was a Primarch, it couldn't be sealed completely. Curze could still use his foresight if he chose to, but it would no longer assault him against his will. In a moment of casual security-proofing, Zhou Ye had accidentally cured him.
Now, Curze couldn't care less about his father's mission. He was going to stay here and live the life he had always dreamed of. He was even thinking of asking Zhou Ye if he needed a Warmaster.
However…
CLANK! CLACK!
The moment he appeared, a dozen different weapons were leveled at him. The three Imperials present clearly recognized him. Konrad Curze, traitor to the Imperium.
"It seems your reputation isn't very good," Zhou Ye remarked.
"My brother, did you not know?"
"Useless thing. I am not your brother!!!" Zhou Ye casually tossed Curze back through the portal. Why was this useless Curze so disliked?
"You see?" Zhou Ye continued, trying to explain to the dumbfounded group. "He is the 'son of the Emperor' from your vision."
"..."
For some reason, the three people across from him all wore expressions that said, I wouldn't believe you if you beat me to death, and Don't be so stubborn. Their thoughts were more or less the same. Belisarius Cawl, Celestine, and Greyfax had only one thought: Could you possibly be any more in denial?
However…
"You are 'My Lord'?"
Just then, Marshal Amalrich of the Black Templars suddenly remembered something. Not long ago, he had received an astropathic message relayed from The Phalanx. The contents were fragmented, but could be summarized as…
Black armor... Primarch... gifted... seed... ancient... golden sword... restored... distribute...
The summary was that a Primarch in black armor with a golden sword had gifted the sons of Dorn with complete gene-seed, which could restore their two degenerated organs. They needed to convene to discuss its distribution. This message had come from his own flagship, the Eternal Crusader, and it had electrified the spirits of all the sons of Dorn engaged in battle.
Now, looking at the figure before him—clad in magnificent black armor inlaid with golden filigree and icons, bearing countless symbols of glory, holding a golden longsword that radiated a holy aura, and flanked by lavishly equipped troops that were clearly a Primarch's personal guard—Marshal Amalrich knelt on one knee, offering the highest respect. The sons of Dorn were truly grateful for this lord's generosity.
Seeing this, the Black Templars and the Emperor's Champion behind him all offered the same salute. From beneath his helmet, Zhou Ye's expression was one of pure exasperation. What was wrong with this universe? Why did no one believe him when he told the truth? And seriously, in terms of seniority, he was older than Malcador!
Then…
"Where's Yvraine? Never mind. It seems the Golden Fiend altered the prophecy. Did I interrupt some fateful romance? Whatever, not a big deal. Wait, there's a sword missing... the old Blade of Something-or-other... damn it."
Looking at the group, Zhou Ye was surprised to find that Yvraine was not among them. He knew exactly what this meant. For the love of... if Guilliman didn't wake up, he was going to lose his mind.
The moment the Great Rift had appeared, Zhou Ye's entire sector had erupted into chaos. Reports of cultist uprisings were appearing everywhere, with countless Imperial worlds desperately sending distress signals. Half of Zhou Ye's military was already out putting out fires, and he was reluctant to recall them immediately. It wasn't a huge problem. It was just Abaddon.
But as Zhou Ye gazed through the spatial tear at the ancient battleship Vengeful Spirit, he froze. A chilling premonition filled his entire being, making him tremble. He felt a sense of extreme danger, a feeling that not even Mortarion had given him before.
"Abaddon... it can't be him. Wait. Drach'nyen. Is it because I'm human? Interesting. Very interesting."
A curious smile touched Zhou Ye's lips. If it was that thing, then things were indeed getting interesting. The feeling was one of danger, but not yet an insurmountable threat. This, perhaps, was the difference between him and the Golden Fiend. Drach'nyen was a being inextricably linked to the Emperor. They had a special kind of bond; the stronger the Emperor's power, the stronger the daemon's power became in opposition. This wasn't 30K, it was 40K. Who knew what that thing had become?
---o---
Aboard the bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, Abaddon also froze. He looked down at the daemon sword in his hand with an expression of pure shock. At this moment, the blade, which had slumbered in his grasp for ten thousand years, was trembling. It was showing signs of waking.
This was the daemon sword that had grievously wounded the Emperor ten millennia ago. It had been dormant ever since coming into his possession. He could only utilize its passive effects; its true power remained sealed. It was his greatest trump card, the weapon he would use against the False Emperor when he one day stood before the Golden Throne.
And now, Drach'nyen was awakening. What was over there? Could it be the Emperor? Impossible.
Countless possibilities flashed through Abaddon's mind, followed by a terrifying thought.
"Now is not the time for an all-out battle with that individual. Let the blood-worshippers go first."
Abaddon made his decision swiftly. This was not the time for the final, decisive battle. The failure of his father, Horus, had taught him that a reckless charge had only one outcome: death. He had learned from his father's mistakes and would not rush in blindly. He could not place his hope in the four gods of the Warp; he had to seize control of his own destiny. The Imperium was still strong. It was not yet time for the final showdown with the False Emperor.
Abaddon already had a plan. He would sell out his allies, especially those Khorne-worshippers. They had been uncharacteristically obedient lately, not at all like Khorne's usual madmen, but more like a legion of highly efficient soldiers. There was only one explanation for such discipline: they had received a specific message. Khorne was planning something big. So, Abaddon would let them take the lead.
Besides, the spatial rift was slowly healing. If he just stalled for a bit, he would have a legitimate excuse to withdraw. There would be other chances to stop Guilliman's revival, namely by attacking Macragge directly. Now that Cadia had fallen, his movements were no longer restricted to the vicinity of the Eye of Terror. He could use Warp jumps to strike anywhere.
---o---
"Should I have an all-out fight with Drach'nyen?"
For a moment, Zhou Ye considered it, then quickly came to a conclusion.
"Stick to the original plan. If Abaddon pursues, we fight to the death. If he doesn't, we ignore him. As long as this rift closes, my plan is a success. We'll deal with healing Guilliman later. No one is going to stop me from farming."
Zhou Ye made his decision.
BOOM!!!
A massive explosion rocked the Ark Mechanicus, and its movements instantly became erratic.
"Damn it, the engines have been destroyed!!!" Cawl's face darkened. The traitors had destroyed their engines. Their ship had lost all power and was now drifting forward on its remaining inertia. It looked like they were about to crash into the planet.
But…
VMMMM.
The ship lurched again, and the occupants desperately grabbed onto anything they could to stay upright. In that instant, the Hyperion had very decisively fired a massive cannon that Zhou Ye had secretly had installed, bringing the entire Ark Mechanicus to a dead stop in space.
"Phew..." Belisarius Cawl breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up, and his expression changed again. "Those are Primaris Space Marines! How did you acquire them?"
He had finally relaxed. With a Primarch present, everything was different. Now, Cawl finally noticed the army behind Zhou Ye, and his eyes widened. The two impossibly tall figures who were practically Custodes were one thing, but what were the others? Primaris Space Marines?
"Belisarius Cawl, the Emperor did not entrust his work to only one Magos. That is all you need to know."
"..."
Cawl was stunned. He looked at the unfamiliar Primarch before him and relaxed completely. The Emperor was truly infallible. It seemed he had prepared ample backup plans. This Primarch must be the Emperor's final contingency, hidden away completely. It meant he had foreseen this day would come, so finding another Magos was not impossible. After all, when that other Archmagos who had tried to possess him had met the Emperor, the Emperor had addressed him directly as "Belisarius Cawl."
Still says he's not a Primarch. He knows things that secret. Cawl grumbled internally. This was a little secret between him, the Emperor, and Guilliman. Since this man knew, he accepted it.
BOOM!!!
Just then, the blast doors at the rear of the chamber were blown open. A massive, bloated, and mutated figure lumbered out, roaring at everyone. "Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
It broke into a charge, heading straight for Zhou Ye, the most conspicuous target. It then leaped into the air, bringing its weapon down in a powerful cleaving strike. It moved so fast that many present couldn't even react.
However…
SQUELCH.
With the sound of tearing flesh, another of Zhou Ye's personal guards—one clad in armor like Ashira's, which looked like power armor but lacked a power pack—fired a single shot in mid-air. With a follow-up move, he pinned the creature to the deck. The entire sequence was so fast that many of the Black Templars, elite Space Marines themselves, didn't even see it happen.
A Custodian?
This was the only thought in the minds of the Imperial onlookers. This Primarch had... Custodes in his retinue?