Chapter Twenty-Eight: Calm Down, Thirteenth Lord

The four Chosen of the Gods had adopted a state of utter indolence, and each of the four Chaos Deities held a different attitude toward this. Khorne was furious at his Chosen’s laziness, throwing them into the bloodiest arena and forcing them to decapitate ten thousand bloodletting fiends. Slaanesh and Nurgle, however, were far more lenient—if the Chosen didn’t want to go, so be it. Slaanesh cared little for such matters, seeking only endless pleasure and corruption, while Nurgle, like a loving father, doted on his Chosen—if the child didn’t wish to go, then so be it.

Slaanesh’s Chosen became the quintessential happy recluse, spending every day in their domain indulging in debauchery with Slaanesh’s daemons. Nurgle’s Chosen, meanwhile, spent their days cultivating unknown warp flora in Nurgle’s “Garden,” occasionally chatting with Isha, the Eldar goddess of life, enjoying a life of unparalleled comfort. As for Tzeentch’s Chosen, he received yet another blessing; his refusal to go to Terra created ripples in fate that pleased Tzeentch immensely.

The battle at Hera Fortress had ended. The bodies of countless Chaos traitors were thrown from its high walls, and the corrupted Titans lay collapsed on the ground, reduced to scrap metal. The Aquila, symbol of the Imperium of Man, now flew proudly over Hera Fortress.

The Ultramarines held a brief ceremony to mark their Primarch’s return from millennia of absence. Guilliman, before his gene-sons, reclaimed the command throne that had stood empty for ten thousand years and once more took up leadership of his chapter.

After settling all matters of command, Guilliman began to meet with visitors one by one. Having been absent from this era for ten millennia, he urgently needed to understand everything about the present. The first visitor he received was Wang Ming, a primarch who had suddenly appeared, a brother he had never known.

Outside Guilliman’s chamber, Wang Ming glanced at the potent antihypertensive medication in his hand before entering. The chamber was vast, and despite ten thousand years, little had changed. Its furnishings were well preserved, bearing no marks of the passage of time. At the room’s center stood two chairs specially made for Primarchs; Guilliman sat in one, awaiting Wang Ming’s arrival.

“Who are you, truly? What should I call you?” Once Wang Ming had taken his seat, Guilliman asked the question foremost in his mind. He searched his memories but found no recollection of a Primarch named Wang Ming.

“Wang Ming. Just someone who was talked into working by the Emperor,” Wang Ming replied, gazing at Guilliman’s puzzled face.

Guilliman stared at Wang Ming, baffled by his words. Talked into working by the Emperor? He understood persuasion, but what did ‘worker’ mean? A factory slave?

Seeing Guilliman’s confusion, Wang Ming realized he had used a metaphor alien to this era. “Just think of me as an undiscovered gene-son from the Great Crusade, convinced by the Emperor to help the Imperium.”

Though still dubious, Guilliman nodded to Wang Ming. He needed only to confirm the loyalty of this Primarch; further questions could be addressed upon returning to Holy Terra and consulting his father.

“Do you know what happened during my ten millennia of unconsciousness? What is the state of the Imperium now?” Guilliman continued, needing to know what had transpired in his absence and the current condition of the galaxy and the Imperium of Man.

Here it was—the inevitable question.

Wang Ming handed Guilliman the antihypertensive medication, knowing he would need it for the conversation ahead.

“What is this?” Guilliman accepted the medication, looking at Wang Ming in confusion, unsure why he had been given it.

“Blood pressure medicine. Trust me, you’ll need it for what comes next,” Wang Ming said, watching Guilliman take the bottle.

Though he didn’t understand Wang Ming’s reasoning, Guilliman nodded.

Then, Wang Ming began to recount to Guilliman the myriad events the Imperium had endured over the last ten thousand years, along with the current state of the galaxy.

Throughout the conversation, Guilliman took the blood pressure medicine more than once, striving to keep his hypertension in check as Wang Ming narrated event after event. By the end, Guilliman felt he might need another bottle altogether.