‘The intent of my father was that I be the best that mankind has to offer. I am not.’ He swept his gaze across the crowd. ‘You are. It is you, the humanity of all the worlds and organisations of this great Imperium, who have done these things. You are the muscles of war – its sinews, its heart and its spleen. Without you, what would I have accomplished? I say to you, I would have accomplished nothing! Yes, nothing! You, all of you, must hold your heads high with pride. Without your efforts, the Imperium would have surely fallen!’

He shouted now, and it rolled out across the square. Banners snapped in the planet’s dusty wind. It was eerily quiet. There were thousands upon thousands of humans and transhumans arrayed on the martial square. The ranks alone of the Primaris Unnumbered Sons filled a quarter of the space. They were arranged into Chapters, but their armour, coloured in the liveries of their primarchs, formed huge blocks that brought to mind the Legions of old.

There were twenty thousand Primaris Space Marines here, the rosters said, along with forty thousand Adeptus Astartes of the older type, twenty million men and women under arms, and the cybernetic battle congregations of the priesthood of Mars. War constructs of increasing size lined the distant back of the square, from the war robots of the Legio Cybernetica up to the sky-occluding bulk of the Titans. How could they not win?

‘The Indomitus Crusade is a success,’ continued Guilliman. ‘I declare its task complete. By our blood and sacrifice, we have bought the Imperium valuable time to retrench. But we are needed elsewhere. We, who have fought together for one hundred and twelve years, must part ways.’ He paused again. ‘The Indomitus Crusade is over. This Triumph of Raukos marks its great victories.’

Still no one spoke, but a tension rose off the crowd.

‘You are all to be reassigned. Shortly after this triumph, I shall give out new orders. Our forces will disperse, and shall bring ruin to the enemy wherever they might be found! Though I send you away from me, I do so because you have won my respect. You have performed impossible feats of arms. Wherever you go, the warriors of mankind will see the honour badges of this crusade upon your battlegear, but they will not know hope, they will not feel protected – instead, they shall rise up with certainty in their hearts and guns in their hands, and with a mighty roar they shall cast back the enemy into the formless warp for all time! You have done this. You will do this. I stand before you humbled by the sight of you, the men and women who are the heroes of the Imperium!’

Guilliman held aloft the massive Hand of Dominion, its robotic fingers clenched in victory salute. The square erupted into a rhythmic chant.

‘Guilliman! Guilliman! Guilliman!’