2nd Primarch

Fulgrim's smug look irked Dukel.

The consequences were dire.

Fulgrim's true form was absent. What stood before the Primarch now was merely a fragment of his soul.

Dukel tightened his grip on Fulgrim's shoulder. The hidden spiritual power surrounding him surged violently. The ferocious energy rushed into the fragment of Fulgrim's mind, and in mere moments, his consciousness collapsed.

Dukel then poured a massive amount of soul fire into the alien body.

In a twisted sense, it was a gift.

The alien's deformed body, unable to bear the overwhelming infusion of soul fire, began to wither rapidly. Like a mummified serpent, its form shriveled, cracks spreading across its surface as fiery tendrils of soul fire burst through. From a distance, it appeared as though a dried snake had been set ablaze.

A hoarse, guttural sound in a strange snake-like language escaped from its cracked neck.

Dukel regarded the burning alien with calm authority and commanded,

"Go. Find your original form. You are one and shall be whole again."

At his words, the blazing serpent vanished into the warp, instinctively tunneling toward the lost world deep within the immaterium.

Part of Dukel's consciousness followed, merging into the warp as a massive, fiery eyeball that trailed the blazing snake. The spectral form entered a forgotten world hidden in the depths of the warp.

A flicker of dark amusement crossed Dukel's mind as he cast two seeds of flame into the corrupted realm—immense forces designed to purge and destroy. After completing his task, his consciousness returned.

During the return, however, he encountered a peculiar ripple—a familiar presence at a warp node that mirrored reality.

"Well, if it isn't Guilliman," Dukel mused.

"Brother, I don't mean to critique, but what are you daydreaming about?"

The warp, timeless as ever, allowed these events to unfold in an instant relative to reality.

When Dukel's consciousness returned fully to his body, a faint smile tugged at his lips. Yet, there was no time to dwell.

Fulgrim's actions had left chaos in their wake.

The appearance of a Daemon Prince at the celebration, broadcast live via holographic projection, had spread to countless worlds. Fear gripped the empire. The Second Holy Land, defiled by a Chaos demon standing unopposed before a Primarch, filled the hearts of many with dread.

Was there no sanctuary left in the Imperium?

The panic reverberated through the warp, creating waves of negative emotion. Sentient entities of darkness, feeding on humanity's despair, exulted.

To the demons, this marked the beginning of the end for the Imperium. Its bloated, rotting structure would soon collapse, offering countless souls to their ravenous appetites.

The Imperium's fate seemed sealed.

But Dukel stood firm, ascending the platform to address the crowd. His gaze swept over the assembled masses, calming them with its unwavering resolve.

"Citizens of the Imperium," Dukel began, his voice resonant and commanding. "I know you were born into dark times, and your lives have been riddled with hardships, slaughter, and endless struggle. Yet, there is no reason to despair."

His eyes, brimming with indomitable will, met the crowd's.

"As you have seen, the betrayers are weak. They cannot defeat me. And if they cannot defeat me, how could they ever triumph over humanity? Ten thousand years ago, the glory of mankind illuminated every corner of the galaxy. We were the rulers of the stars, and the galaxy itself was but a toy in our hands."

Dukel's voice swelled with conviction.

"The scars and suffering we endure now are but trials—a necessary test in the grand history of the Imperium. I swear to you, there will come a day when the traitors and the vile forces of Chaos are brought low. Humanity will wield its strength to annihilate every heretic and remind the galaxy that our glory is eternal!"

The Primarch's words pierced through fear and doubt, igniting a spark within the crowd. Confidence and bravery replaced trepidation.

"Kill them all!"

A single soldier raised his monomolecular blade and shouted.

Though his voice was but a whisper amid the throng, it resonated, stirring the hearts of those around him.

"Kill them all!" others echoed.

Humanity, suppressed and battered for so long, now felt the rising tide of defiance. Once terrified by xenos predators, twisted Chaos forces, and unrelenting oppression, they now rallied behind the immortal spirit of their Primarch.

Soon, the soldiers, Space Marines, battle-sisters, and Ecclesiarchy forces joined the chant.

"Kill them all!"

This unified cry of humanity grew into a thunderous roar, shaking even the immaterium itself.

The demons, reveling moments ago, now recoiled in fear. They scattered, desperate to escape the light of humanity's collective soul. Those caught in the surge of psychic power screamed in anguish as their forms were obliterated.

Even within the Five Hundred Worlds, on the planet Macragge, echoes of this defiance stirred. Guilliman's own grand celebration carried on, though conspiratorial hands sought to shape its course.

Yet, as humanity's voices rose in defiance, one thing became clear: the Imperium would not yield to despair.