His Highness Guilliman, the Regent of the Second Human Empire, placed the gorgeous laurel crown upon his head.
Countless magnificent scenes instantly filled the Primarch's heart.
One brilliant picture after another outlined an extremely bright future for him.
Compared to the grandeur depicted in these scenes, Guilliman's recent victory seemed insignificant.
In these visions, he commanded an unprecedentedly vast army and planted the flag of the human empire in every corner of the galaxy.
The people adored him so deeply that dying for the Hero King became the highest honor for each of them.
The countless worlds he liberated would forever bear Guilliman's name.
The savage and cunning forces of Chaos were reduced to nothing more than broken-backed dogs before him. The demons were so terror-stricken that they could only hide in the darkest corners.
Statues praising Guilliman stood on every world of the Imperium, and a supreme throne awaited him.
Just as he began his journey towards kingship, seated upon the supreme throne, surveying the entire human empire, he felt a profound sigh in his heart.
Guilliman saw it.
Approaching him was a figure both familiar and unfamiliar.
This figure possessed a majestic and powerful physique, a handsome and resolute face, and eyes filled with perpetual determination and strength.
It was none other than Guilliman's long-lost brother, the Primarch of the Second Legion, Dukel.
"Well, well, isn't this Guilliman?" The Second Primarch gazed at Guilliman upon the Supreme Throne, his tone tinged with deep confusion and puzzlement.
"I didn't expect you to go through all this trouble to meet me in person. Welcome, my brother."
Guilliman did not respond to Number Two's confusion.
Despite the vast difference in their statuses now, he had restored humanity's glory and achieved supreme greatness.
He maintained humility, hoping to make his brother feel welcomed and at ease.
But the next words from Number Two sent a chill down his spine.
"Brother, forgive me for saying this, but what are you daydreaming about?"
There was a strange smile on Dukel's face, and then, to Guilliman's incredulous gaze, a powerful psychic attack ensued.
The psychological trauma inflicted by this sudden assault was immense for the aging regent.
This blow not only brought him crashing back to reality but also filled him with shame.
Guilliman wanted to say more to Dukel, but his deep-rooted fear of the Warp intervened.
The moment he regained consciousness, he instinctively severed the psychic connection.
Returning to awareness at the celebration on Macragge, Guilliman recalled the beautiful scenes he had just witnessed.
Then he pondered his seemingly humble yet actually conceited demeanor towards Number Two while lost in illusions.
Even the great demigod Primarch, ruler of five hundred worlds, could not help but blush at this moment, experiencing profound embarrassment.
But soon, this social disgrace turned into intense anger.
The enraged regent tore the laurel wreath from his head and ordered the arrest of the consul general before him.
After venting his fury, Guilliman summoned Evelyne and issued a command,
"I need you and your Death Army to assist me with something."
"Help me locate my brother, Primarch of the Second Legion, Dukor."
"Go to Ophelia 7. He should still be there."
In the unpredictable depths of the Warp, on a forsaken world.
From within a twisted temple of flesh and blood echoed a roar mingled with unending agony.
Fulgrim was in a wretched state. His once imposing form was now shriveling, cracks in his flesh emitting sparks of fire.
Soul fragments imbued with spiritual fire penetrated his body and soul unabated, akin to setting oneself ablaze.
Though unable to kill him, this ordeal caused him profound torment.
Moreover, the world around him burned with flames, transforming the eternal darkness into fiery red.
Countless demons turned to ash in the inferno, their cries of anguish echoing throughout the realm.
Not only had his carefully laid schemes failed, they had backfired, bringing disgrace upon himself.
"Aaaaaaaaah!"
"Number Two, you will pay for this!"
Fulgrim rallied the Chaos legions under his command. His heart brimmed with rage, leaving no room for hesitation.
He would personally lead the campaign, resolved to sever his brother's head with his own hands.
Come, and cleanse the shame he had endured!
The sea of souls surged and roared, its waves of destruction in the Warp seeming poised to engulf all souls.
What had been arrogance now formed a turbulent vortex, where rage and malevolent desire melded into a furious tempest.
Despair coalesced into steep chasms, as countless hungry demons prowled the endless shores.
In the expansive bloody plain, this was the battlefield of the four Chaos Gods.
Countless demons clashed incessantly, with a Khornate army of bloodthirsty warriors advancing upon the Crystal City.
At the city's edge, a colossal wheel-shaped fortress clashed head-on with Tzeentch's guardians.
Like a swarm of insects, they surged from all directions. The two forces, akin to ravenous beasts, savagely tore into each other upon their first meeting.
Slaanesh's Lustful Knights infiltrated Nurgle's Gardens.
This surprise attack caught the benevolent father's demon army, just as they set out to assault Khorne's Ironfire Fortress.
Such brutal warfare was a daily norm for these demons, its intensity causing subspace to churn tumultuously.
—Under such incessant and intense assaults, navigating subspace became increasingly difficult.
Yet even amidst such savagery, the favor of the Chaos Gods still lingered, their gaze fixed upon the physical universe.
Khorne, particularly, turned his attention to the resurrected Primarch.
The Demon Prince's failure provoked laughter.
His followers' schemes garnered His interest.
Abaddon, the victorious Warmaster, bellowed.
Amidst the roar, countless demons and Chaos worshipers stood ready, ever poised to breach the barriers between reality and illusion anew, sounding the hunt for the resurrected Primarch.
Tzeentch's Fateweaver, Carlos, meticulously wove the scattered threads of destiny into a grand net against the Primarch.
Demon Prince Fulgrim, determined to cleanse his humiliation, prepared to lead the expedition himself.
Dukel understood this well.
He bolstered his forces and made extensive preparations for the grand campaign.
As xenos cast malevolent glares at the Primarch, he stared back unyieldingly.
The Milky Way sprawled vast and wide, a vast hunting ground where no one expected to become prey.
Just a few weeks after the Primarch's celebration of resurrection.
The peaceful days of Dukel quietly amassing strength were once more disturbed.
According to intelligence from the Heart Network,
Thirteenth Princess (bushi), Evelyne of the Death Army, led a fleet and appeared near Ophelia VII.