A score of silvered skulls buzzed about the primarch, recording his image for posterity. From what Guilliman had told him, these recordings were meaningless, as history could be rewritten as easily as the notes for a sermon. The primarch looked at the flying skulls, and his regard made them retreat in dismay. The son of the Emperor did not see his own power. To Guilliman, the skulls were morbid mementos, machines nestled in the hollowed-out heads of the worthy. To Mathieu, they were more. Clinging to the mortal remains, the spirits of the faithful remained, serving the Emperor beyond death. They felt the primarch’s scorn – that is why they veered from him. Why could he not see that?

It is not my role to convince the son of god that he is the son of god, Mathieu scolded himself. It is my role to serve him, and to guide him through his own efforts to the truth. I cannot tell him. He must see.

He resolved to shrive himself, by confession or by whip, for his presumption. Still, he could not extinguish his hope, nor his ambition.

If I am the one to open his eyes… he thought. If it is me who convinces him openly…

That was enough. He squeezed the button hidden in the flesh of his palm. Sparking pain burst within his groin and behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth and swayed, close to collapse. But the implanted electroflail was not enough to break his immodest ambitions. He would have to punish himself harder later. Only in agony was there atonement.

The aftertones of the last toll of the bell hummed across the gathering. Guilliman addressed the crowd.

‘The Indomitus Crusade has lasted one hundred and twelve years.’ A lesser leader might shout, or posture; Guilliman spoke clearly and calmly, and his words carried the power of a thousand guns out across the martial field. ‘You look to me, and say “See! He is the son of the Master of Mankind! He has come to save us! He has brought low the lords of Chaos. He has crossed the stars when all ships founder in the storms of the warp!”’ Guilliman paused for effect.

Mathieu saw his tricks; he was no stranger to addressing crowds. Knowing the art made it no less effective.

‘I say to you, I did not do this. It is not I who has liberated hundreds of star systems. It is not I who has provided reinforcement to dozens of our Chapters, or relieved beleaguered armies that they might fight again. It is not I who has driven back the dark. I am but one man, and yes, I say I am a man, though primarch I may be. For my soul is human, and my heart, and my blood.