In response to Guilliman's summons, a council of esteemed figures convened within the hallowed halls of Hera Fortress on Macragge. Master Calgar, alongside company commanders from various Chapters, Saints of the Ecclesiarchy, and revered Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus, all gathered before the Primarch.
[Note: A Chapter is a completely autonomous military unit made up of one thousand transhuman warriors known as Space Marines and their related vehicles, starships and support personnel.]
Hera Fortress held a profound history, a silent witness to ten millennia of humanity's struggles. Its walls had stood resolute during the Horus Heresy, when warp storms raged, severing communication and leaving loyal forces adrift.
It was within these halls that the Primarchs of three Legions once strategized to preserve mankind. Now, ten thousand years later, so much had changed.
Time both stole and bestowed upon them, leaving the fortress scarred by invasions of Tyranids, Orks, and the ever-present threat of Chaos.
Hera Fortress, ever a pivotal defensive location for Macragge, had itself been a target during the recent Chaos incursion. Cultists, Chaos warriors, and daemons had swarmed its grounds, leaving a trail of ruin and death.
With the battle won, the fortress was undergoing a meticulous restoration. Ruined marble and shattered streets were replaced, the Thinker computer – crucial for tactical projections and data storage – restored through the implementation of several brand new wetware implants.
Guilliman surveyed the assembly, his gaze sweeping across the heroes of the Imperium. None but the Emperor's son could unite such a prestigious gathering.
Each figure present held the power to command vast imperial fleets, their pronouncements shaping the fates of millions. They were men and women of unwavering courage, keen strategy, and unwavering loyalty.
They were the bulwark of humanity, willing to make any sacrifice for the continuation of the Imperium and the survival of mankind.
At the chamber's center stood an oval table, humming softly with activated machinery. Projections flickered into existence above it, each depicting the dire threats plaguing the Ultima Starfield.
The fall of Cadia's Gate stood stark – a gaping wound in reality through which demons and xenos poured, ravaging human worlds. Fear gripped the populace of the Imperium, their desperate pleas for salvation echoing across the void.
Within the chamber, Magos and Servitors clad in crimson robes scurried about, tending to the Thinker computer and other mechanical marvels.
These "Thinker" systems, a stark counterpoint to outlawed AI, utilized human brains as their core components. The Golden Age's betrayal by sentient machines had left an indelible scar, leading the Imperium to strictly forbid unfettered artificial intelligence.
The brains used in the Thinker systems were specially conditioned wetware, cloned from the minds of deceased Imperial criminals or loyal members of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Suspended within hardened glass tanks and wired to complex machinery, these brains formed the beating heart of the cogitator systems.
As everyone settled in, Guilliman strode towards his designated seat. Fanatical reverence gleamed in the eyes of those assembled, their gazes following his every movement.
For these loyal servants of the Emperor, sharing this space with the Primarch was an honor beyond measure, a memory to be cherished for eternity.
The weight of their expectations settled upon Guilliman, a palpable pressure he couldn't ignore. The fate of the Imperium rested on their collective shoulders, and the Primarch knew the coming decisions would determine the future of mankind.
The assembled heroes awaited Guilliman's guidance, the weight of the Imperium's future pressing down on them all. The prospect of confronting gods themselves was a daunting one, and the potential for failure loomed large.
Guilliman's voice, though measured, resonated with authority as he addressed the chamber. "The state of the Imperium is dire. We face not only the relentless tide of Chaos, but also the burgeoning threats of the Tyranids and the Necrons. Speak freely, share your thoughts and strategies. Your insights are invaluable."
High Marshal Amarić, Chapter Master of the Black Templars, voiced his opinion first. "Regent, your rightful place is on Terra, the heart of the Imperium and a bastion of humanity's elite. There, you can marshal the resources and strength needed to rebuild the shattered empire."
Amarić's reasoning was sound. Terra, the capital world, was a magnet for the Imperium's most esteemed individuals. Wealth, prestige, and power all resided there.
As the Emperor's son, Guilliman held a legitimate claim to rule, a right to reclaim the regency and wrest control from the Terra Council.
Guilliman, however, disagreed. "Terra is not the answer, at least not now. Retaking the entire Imperium at once is a fool's errand. We need a secure foundation, a stable rear. The true state of Terra after the Great Rift is shrouded in uncertainty..."
"A rash return would make us vulnerable. Our focus lies in securing Ultramar, the five hundred worlds loyal to us. This region boasts the strongest infrastructure in the Imperium, offering a steady supply of warships and fighters."
Returning to Terra, Guilliman mused, was akin to walking into a firestorm. How long could he keep the secret of his time-traveling soul from the Chaos Gods and the Emperor himself? Until his true identity was exposed, building his own power base and bolstering his defenses was paramount.
Terra, and indeed the entire Sol System, was a tangled web of political factions – the High Lords, the Inquisition, the Ecclesiarchy, and the Adeptus Mechanicus. While loyalty resided in some, others clung fiercely to power.
The creation of the High Lords by the Emperor, effectively sidelining the Primarchs and Space Marines, was a sore spot for many, contributing to Horus' rebellion. Power was a seductive siren song.
Guilliman understood that reclaiming the Imperium would be a long and arduous struggle. He wouldn't simply inherit control; he would have to wrest it from those clinging desperately to their positions. Internal conflict could cripple the fledgling recovery effort.
Building his own army, a loyal force beholden to him, was a safer option. With a strong military backing, he could enact change more decisively.
Fortunately, Guilliman's proposal regarding Ultramar met with minimal resistance. Ultramar, a collective term for the five hundred worlds, stood in stark contrast to the rest of the Imperium.
Each world within this region boasted a thriving industrial base, advanced medical facilities, and self-sufficient food production – a paradise compared to the war-torn and resource-depleted worlds beyond.
Restoring stability and production to Ultramar was essential for the Imperium's survival.
Guilliman outlined a comprehensive plan for reclaiming Ultramar, with Macragge as the central staging ground. He christened this offensive the "Unyielding War," a defiant message to the Chaos Gods – humanity would not succumb to their dark prophecies.
The council adjourned, and Guilliman beckoned Magos Kauer to stay behind. He had vital information to impart, secrets that could shape the destiny of mankind.
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