The way to Terra was clear, and it was not.
The primarchs met once more aboard the Red Tear. They spoke in the Sanctorum Angelus. ‘The astropathic messages paint a disturbing picture,’ Guilliman said.
‘I am grateful that we are receiving them at all,’ said Sanguinius.
‘We are receiving intelligence,’ said the Lion. ‘That is very much to the good. But I agree, the news is far from reassuring.’
‘Multiple blockades,’ Guilliman mused. ‘If Horus didn’t anticipate we would defeat the Ruinstorm, he was leaving nothing to chance.’
‘Your Navigators concur with ours?’ the Lion asked.
‘They do. A single warp jump to Terra is impossible. The empyrean is still too unstable.’
The Lion drummed his fingers on the hilt of the Wolf Blade. ‘They’ll tie us up,’ he said. ‘They seek to entangle the fleets and delay us until Terra has fallen.’
‘Our information is far from complete,’ Sanguinius pointed out. ‘We don’t know the full scale of their deployment.’
‘We know enough,’ said Guilliman. ‘We know they are more than three Legions. Our brother is correct. Even if we hit them with our combined force, that will be nothing more than what Horus wants us to do.’
Sanguinius hissed with frustration. Then he closed his eyes for a moment. He calmed himself with the knowledge of what had to be. ‘The blockades do not stop me,’ he said. ‘I will reach Terra, because I must fight Horus. It is written. The fate of the Imperium will be decided then. Even the daemon believed that.’
Guilliman and the Lion exchanged a look. Guilliman was no happier with the idea of predestination than he had been on Macragge. There was far less resistance in the Lion’s expression.
‘Then we must learn how we achieve what we are fated to accomplish,’ said the Lion.
Guilliman’s brow furrowed in sudden pain. ‘You reach Terra,’ he said to Sanguinius. ‘That does not mean we do.’
‘I don’t know. I have never seen you or your Legions in my visions.’
Guilliman nodded slowly, looking off into a future that already caused him agony. ‘There is a way,’ he said. He turned to the Lion. ‘But after all this, we will not reach Terra. We will not fight at our father’s side. We hit the blockades ahead of the Blood Angels. We tie Horus’ forces up instead of the other way around. We run interference for Sanguinius.’
The Lion thought for a moment, then said. ‘We can also draw some of their strength away.’
‘How so?’
‘By applying the lesson I have learned at Episimos and Davin. Your fleet is the largest. I will attack their bastions, Roboute. I will destroy their home worlds. That is the judgement that awaits them. Let it come now. Burn the corrupted planets. How many of our treacherous brothers will stay with the blockades if their worlds are directly threatened? Not all of them.’
‘Very well,’ said Guilliman. ‘It makes sense for my Legion to be the battering ram against the blockades.’ He turned to Sanguinius. ‘We will open the way for you.’ He sighed. ‘I never thought, if Terra still stood, that I would not be at Father’s side in the struggle. Perhaps this is my expiation.’ The pain in his eyes was hard to look at.
The Lion was expressionless. Sanguinius wondered if he might not be finding some real satisfaction in his path, in being the hand of judgement.
The three primarchs stood in silence for a few moments. The paths were set. The moment of the Triumvirate’s dissolution had truly arrived. They would fight for the common cause, but separately now.
‘When shall we three meet again?’ the Angel said.
But he had told his brothers what waited for him on the Vengeful Spirit, and they did not answer.