To Terra.
To Earth, the cradle-world of mankind.
To stand before the Emperor!
This was the most important part of Lancelot’s plan.
The Emperor’s original blood, in essence, still had to be handled personally by the old man himself.
The reason this blood was important was mainly because it was connected to the Emperor.
The Emperor was the source of its power.
In Lancelot’s own expectations, the best use for this thing would be to drag Guilliman, out of his coffin and make him go back to work.
But if the old man saw farther and had some other use for this vial of blood, then given his current state, he should be able to make the most rational judgment.
The only thing Lancelot had to worry about was that the old man might stop acting human and try to trick him into becoming a laborer instead, refusing to let him wake Guilliman and making Lancelot work for him instead.
Although Lancelot had cheats, his abilities in every aspect were obviously no match for old Thirteen, that most administratively gifted of Primarchs.
As long as Roboute launched his offensive, the Imperium would be able to turn danger into safety.
When the time came, with a Primarch backing him, those fanatical maniacs of the Dark Angels would not come bothering him, a Fallen Angel.
That way, perhaps he could even find himself a garden world and comfortably enjoy his life as a traveler through the myriad heavens.
He might even be able to strike a deal with the Imperium and supply basic Space Marine equipment without limit.
Those people from the Martian Mechanicus might end up worshiping him.
Yes.
It was decided.
Even if that old man wanted to use this vial of blood for something else, Lancelot would not agree.
In any case, that man was now sitting on the Golden Throne.
From a purely rational perspective, following Lancelot’s idea would bring the greatest benefit to him, or rather, to humanity.
As Lancelot indulged in these visions of the future, his gaze toward Chapter Master Malakim of the Lamenters grew heated.
After hearing his words, Malakim gave a full-body shudder.
Then his expression turned incomparably serious, and he slapped a hand against his chest in assurance.
“There will be no problem whatsoever!
Lord Lancelot, I will immediately arrange for the Astropaths aboard the flagship to do everything in their power to contact the Dark Angels for you!
With an elder such as yourself returned, the brothers of the First Legion will surely be overjoyed!”
“?”
Lancelot’s sword-bearing posture stiffened slightly.
Contact the Dark Angels?!
You mean a Fallen Angel would ask the Lamenters, a Blood Angels Successor Chapter, to contact the Dark Angels and tell them that he wanted to go to Terra to meet the Emperor and fulfill a promise?
If word of this really got out, those lunatics of the Dark Angels, the kind of people who would throw out Exterminatus orders and scour the ground with orbital lances at the drop of a hat, would absolutely silence the entire Lamenters Chapter.
“Wait!
Chapter Master Malakim!
My return is a secret that cannot be announced to outsiders.
Lancelot hurriedly spoke, but that sentence made Chapter Master Malakim’s brow furrow at once.
The rush of hot blood that had risen to his head cooled in that instant.
“Lord, what do you mean by that?
If you wish to stand before the Emperor, then naturally the safest course would be to return to the First Legion and have the Chapter Master of the parent Chapter contact Terra on your behalf.”
“Perhaps you were lost in the Warp for too long and still do not understand the Imperium’s current operating procedures?”
Malakim explained patiently.
“Although the Lamenters are a Successor Chapter of the Blood Angels, we do not have the authority to bring a vessel directly to Terra.
You understand the rebellion from that year.
Ever since that incident, anyone who wishes to travel to Terra must obtain permission from the Ecclesiarchy, the Inquisition, and the High Lords.”
“And if you wish to stand before the Emperor Himself, you will also need permission from the Adeptus Custodes.
But if you truly made a promise with the Emperor ten thousand years ago, and if you can reverse humanity’s current plight, then I believe the Emperor will surely summon you!”
Malakim spoke with sincerity, but what followed was a rather long silence from Lancelot.
Tch.
I almost forgot that ordinary Chapters in the 40K era can’t just go to Terra whenever they want…
He clearly remembered that the followers of Khorne had already managed, through various methods, to bring a profane ritual to Terra itself, perfectly timed to reenact the Battle of Terra when Guilliman returned.
Yet he had not expected it to be so difficult for Space Marines to visit Terra.
But in truth, all he needed was for Malakim to help contact the Custodes.
The question was how to explain that.
Lancelot thought in silence.
In Malakim’s eyes, however, silence represented an unspeakable difficulty.
Amid that silence, the reason that had been slightly disrupted by the supplies before him and Lancelot’s words began to return.
He began to reassess the “elder” before him.
It was not that he did not trust this elder, but there were simply too many suspicious points.
As a Chapter Master, he had to maintain a higher level of vigilance.
After a long while, Malakim heard Lancelot sigh.
Then he saw Lancelot raise a hand, and space itself seemed to ripple outward, yet the sensation it gave was as though it were folding inward.
“Then allow me to explain the situation.”
Lancelot sighed.
At that moment, the armory seemed to form an independent space cut off from the outside world.
Even Malakim could sense that indescribable feeling of inviolability.
Lancelot gathered his focus and used his ability to compress and strengthen the inviolable domain, reinforcing its security.
As Malakim looked at Lancelot, he almost instinctively drew up his chest, straightened his back, and even held his breath.
His hearts contracted to their limit.
And then…
he saw white light bloom in Lancelot’s hand.
Along with that white light, what appeared in Lancelot’s grasp was a quartz tube wrapped in special rune-inscribed bandages.
The quartz looked like something entirely natural, uncut and untouched.
Within it was a liquid like ruby, and for some reason, the mere sight of it flowing inside the quartz tube made the genes deep within Malakim’s body tremble.
“What…
is that…?”
“Has your body not already told you what it is?”
Lancelot glanced at Chapter Master Malakim, then gently shook the quartz tube in his hand.
The instant Malakim saw that, he felt as if what Lancelot was shaking was not the quartz tube, but his own heart.
Even with the composure of a Chapter Master, he could not help but reach out and take a step forward.
“Wait!
Please, wait!”
Malakim did not know what his own words were based on, but he still said them.
At that moment, seeing the Chapter Master lose his composure to such a degree, Lancelot could not help silently grumbling to himself.
The original blood of the old yellow man himself really was something else.
After all…
the genes of the Adeptus Astartes were essentially degraded versions of the Primarchs’ genes, while the Primarchs’ genes were things created through the old yellow man’s own blood plus some extreme Warp-grade handiwork.
From a certain point of view, was the old yellow man the grandfather of the Adeptus Astartes?
Was that why there was this bloodline-like suppression?
As Lancelot thought this, the quartz tube appeared only for an instant.
But even after it vanished, Chapter Master Malakim’s gaze remained fixed on Lancelot’s hand.
When the quartz tube disappeared, his eyes even searched around in panic for a moment before reason finally returned.
Only then did he realize how badly he had lost his composure just now.
“Lord!
May I ask what that was?!”
“Then I will explain in a little more detail.”
Lancelot interrupted him, gently closed his eyes, and said:
“I met the Emperor in a society where reason had not yet faded.
Perhaps the seeds had already been planted at that time.
Speaking of those old matters now no longer has any meaning.”
“You only need to know one thing.
Through this object, one of the God-Emperor’s sons will once again walk among the living.”
Lancelot spoke.
“With it, the Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion, the Lord of Ultramar, Master of the Five Hundred Worlds, Father of the Ultramarines, the Avenging Son, Roboute Guilliman, will return!”