Warhammer 40k : Starting as a Primarch

The duel between the demigods in the Immaterium roiled the Sea of Souls, creating a tempest that reverberated through the Warp. Its ripples reached far into the Materium, where countless psykers were gripped by unease, their eyes betraying their anxiety.

At the edges of the Ultima Segmentum, the Indomitus Crusade Fleet of the Five Hundred Worlds advanced in grand procession. Roboute Guilliman, the Lord Commander of the Imperium, stood at the helm of this mighty endeavor, exuding confidence.

Countless benighted worlds had been liberated under his guidance. Millions of Imperial citizens hailed him as their savior, and numerous Astra Militarum regiments pledged their allegiance to his cause. Far from diminishing, the strength of the Indomitus Fleet grew with each victory, bolstered by fresh reinforcements and the blessings of the Machine Cult.

On yet another liberated world, the cheers of the populace echoed across continents. Statues of the Primarch were being erected with feverish devotion, their craftsmanship embodying both piety and awe. Guilliman allowed himself a rare smile, buoyed by the love of his people.

But amidst this jubilation, a sleek and impossibly graceful Eldar craft cut through the void, materializing near the fleet.

The vessels of the Indomitus Crusade did not open fire. Instead, they stood down, allowing the xenos ship to approach. Evelyne, an enigmatic figure of the Asuryani, emerged from the craft, bearing the distinctive air of one who was no stranger to Guilliman.

"How have you been, big boy?" Evelyne's tone was laced with a playful irreverence that bordered on blasphemy, her demeanor as casual as if addressing an old friend.

The Ultramarines standing guard stiffened but wisely diverted their gazes. They knew better than to interfere; the Regent of the Imperium tolerated this peculiar relationship, and that was enough for them.

"Not bad," Guilliman replied with a smirk. "Victory is a constant companion when one sits upon the Emperor's Throne." He indulged himself briefly, recounting his recent triumphs with no small measure of pride.

Evelyne, however, interrupted him mid-sentence. Her expression shifted, the mirth replaced by something far more serious. "There's no time for pleasantries, Regent. We must leave immediately."

"Leave? To where?" Guilliman's brow furrowed in confusion.

Evelyne's incredulous look betrayed her astonishment. "You mean you don't know? Of course, you wouldn't—you fear the energies of the Warp too much to sense them."

She paused, then added, "In short, your brothers are engaged in a cataclysmic duel in the Immaterium."

"Who? Which of my brothers?" Guilliman's voice grew sharp.

"Magnus the Red," Evelyne said, her voice steady. "The Crimson King is locked in battle with your brother Dukel. Magnus was soundly defeated, but…"

Her expression darkened. "This is likely his last victory. The Seers have foreseen it—your brother has fallen into a trap laid by the Chaos Gods."

Guilliman processed the news in silence before speaking. "We march, then. Whatever the cost, I will not abandon Dukel."

"Of course," Evelyne teased. "You are, after all, the paragon of fraternal loyalty."

"I've fought for my brothers before," Guilliman snapped. "Ten thousand years ago, when the statues of the Second and Eleventh were erased, I raised my voice in protest. Dukel will not be forsaken."

With no further delay, Guilliman summoned Belisarius Cawl, the Archmagos Dominus of the Mechanicus, and confirmed the fleet's readiness for departure. Once satisfied, he turned back to Evelyne with unshakable resolve.

"Let us go, Evelyne," he declared. "Whether it's the schemes of the Ruinous Powers or the betrayal of my own blood, we will face them head-on. I can't wait to see the expressions on my brothers' faces when I save them."

Evelyne's smile returned. "It will certainly be a sight to behold."

On the far side of the galaxy, within the depths of the Warp, the Chaos Gods' machinations took form. A trap had been laid, and Fulgrim awaited its execution. The Prince of Excess stood amidst the throng of his Emperor's Children, their decadent forms twisted by Slaanesh's corruption.

Magnus's defeat was of no concern to Fulgrim. His sneer betrayed his disdain. "Poor Magnus," he murmured. "Ignorant, overreaching fool. He never understood the depths of his own inadequacy."

Fulgrim's serpentine form twisted as he traced his clawed fingers over the cracks in his flesh, scars left by his previous encounter with Dukel. Flames flickered within the wounds, their searing pain a constant reminder of his failure.

Unlike mortal pain, this agony offered no perverse pleasure. It gnawed at Fulgrim, mocking him with its purity. "Number Two," he hissed, his voice laden with venom. "I will repay this torment a hundredfold."

On the charred remains of Tizca's grand pyramid, Dukel stood triumphant, his steel boots grinding Magnus's shattered form into the ash-strewn ground. His chainsword hung low, its teeth humming with restrained menace.

Magnus gasped, his single eye blazing with residual Warp energy. "You've grown strong, brother," he rasped. "But strength alone cannot free you from humanity's malice."

Dukel's gaze hardened. He raised his chainsword and pressed it against Magnus's neck. "Save your riddles, Magnus. Come back to Terra with me and live, or stay here and perish. The choice is yours."

Magnus laughed weakly. "Kill me if you wish, brother. For all your might, you remain blind to the truth. The greatest threat to you has never been the gods or even your brothers. It is your own power—your curse."

Dukel's patience snapped. Raising his chainsword high, he prepared to deliver the final blow. "As you wish," he growled. "If death is what you desire, I will oblige."

Before the strike could land, a bolter shot rang out. The explosive round struck Dukel's helm, momentarily forcing his head to the side. He turned slowly, his voice cold and wrathful.

"Do you fools wish to die as well?" His gaze burned into the ranks of the Thousand Sons, who stood ready with their weapons drawn.

...

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