Fulgrim! Damn you—you deserve death! Of all of them—of all of them, you wretched bastard!
I will never let you go. Never!
Guilliman ground his teeth. He had never imagined Corax had been reduced to this.
His body was no longer human; even his soul was being corroded by Fulgrim's power.
He could hardly fathom the tortures Corax had suffered—the unthinkable abuse.
Fulgrim had been among the first to return to the Imperium. When he did, he delivered a stirring speech before all—a rousing, even moving declaration that inspired every Imperial soldier and the entire III Legion.
Even the Emperor was moved, granting the III the title "Sons of the Emperor." Fulgrim's flagship was named Pride of the Emperor.
Horus's treachery had been born of Chaos's corruption and the Four's schemes.
Lorgar, after the destruction of the Perfect City, hated his father and accepted Chaos.
Angron bore the Butcher's Nails; when Father stopped him from rescuing his old comrades, he came to hate him.
Magnus, too, was ensnared by Chaos's plots; Prospero burned by Leman Russ—thus the betrayal.
But you? Fulgrim, why did you betray our father? Was he unkind to you? Others had reasons to fall. You alone have no right.
Besides Horus, Father lavished the most love on you.
At Horus's mere suggestion you turned traitor, embraced Chaos, murdered Ferrus Manus, and wounded yourself—sleeping away ten thousand years.
Now you've seized Corax and subjected him to horrors unspeakable!
Guilliman's rage peaked. This time, no matter what, Fulgrim would be annihilated, soul and all.
"Your voice… familiar. Who are you? My eyes—I can't see!" Corax croaked.
The torment had ruined his sight. He saw only red—no, only black.
Fulgrim had told him it was to help him see "greater beauty," to see the world's pleasures.
"It's me, brother—Guilliman. Don't worry. I've come to save you. I'll take you back to the Imperium and make you whole again. I promise." Guilliman raised the Emperor's Sword, severed the corrupt chains, and lifted his brother down.
"It's you, Guilliman… It's good to see you, brother. But I'm beyond saving.
Look at me—my flesh is corrupted, my soul as well.
I'm finished. Kill me, let me die as a Primarch—as a man. I won't live as a monster," Corax said.
He had already become a Warp being—a Daemon Prince. Had Guilliman come any later, even his soul might have been reshaped into Fulgrim's puppet.
He was grateful Guilliman had arrived in time—to purify him with Father's blade.
He could feel the searing burn of the golden greatsword—that pain meant the Emperor's weapon could end him cleanly.
"Don't talk nonsense, brother. Many of our brothers have returned—even Horus. He was framed back then, and Magnus too.
You know Magnus's state was worse than yours. If he can become a man again, why can't you?
Stand firm. Your sons await you. Father awaits you. Our brothers await you—waiting for you to return," Guilliman said, supporting Corax and beginning the withdrawal.
The Ultramarines followed steadfastly. Any Chaos cultists, Marines, or daemons who dared approach were exterminated.
Librarian Digris was a terror in the Warp; his witchcraft erased daemons with ease.
Guilliman's phantom beast power formed a bulwark; any Warp life that approached was held at bay and burned to ash by the golden psychic radiance of the Emperor's Sword.
"The Imperium is better now. Father has risen from the Golden Throne and his body is healing. Soon, Humanity will return to its peak.
Rogal Dorn has returned. Vulkan has returned. The Imperium is stronger and more united than ever. I'll make sure you see this golden age," Guilliman said, one hand steadying Corax, the other cutting down every daemon in his path.
This was Fulgrim's lair, yes—but without its master, Guilliman felt he could carve through it alone with one sword.
"That truly is good news. You can take me back—but give me something to cover myself. I don't want others to see me like this," Corax said.
In this state, he was a thoroughgoing daemon-thing. What would mortals think?
"Don't worry. I planned for that," Guilliman said.
Soon he brought Corax to the golden portal and crossed it. Only when the last Ultramarine withdrew did Tartarus close the gate.
"Thank you, Tartarus. Send us to Holy Terra. My brother needs treatment—he's in a bad way," Guilliman said.
Handling Fulgrim could be left to Rhodes—and to Father. He had to get Corax to the Palace at once.
"No problem, Lord Guilliman. Withdraw for now. We'll handle things here. That one is about to give out," Tartarus said, opening a golden gate to Holy Terra.
Guilliman nodded gratefully and led Corax through, returning to Terra.
…
The Palace's Custodes were shaken by Corax's daemonic appearance. Who would have imagined a Primarch reduced to this? Yet they dutifully guided them to the Emperor's presence.
"Lord Guilliman, Lord Corax—this way. The Emperor awaits."
"Lead on," Guilliman said.
Guided by the Custodes, Guilliman and Corax reached the depths of the Palace. After ten millennia, Corax—the Raven Lord, Primarch of the Raven Guard—returned to Humanity's Imperium, to his familiar home: Holy Terra.
"My child—Corax, you have suffered. Do not fear; all will pass," the Emperor's voice resounded.
"Father, I have failed you. I failed! I did not judge the traitors. I was captured. I became… this," Corax said.
"Do not blame yourself. You never failed. You are one of my bravest sons.
You did what others dared not—you hunted the traitors of Chaos. You are worthy of the name Primarch.
As for your form—worry not. I will purify you. You will be human again," the Emperor said.
He could use humanity's psyker power to cleanse; Horus's light could aid Corax's recovery; Rhodes's power could craft a proper body; and the cosmic beast would help.
Corax would return to lead the Raven Guard once more.
"Father, if I can return, I will make the Imperium's foes taste the Raven Lord's terror again," Corax said.
The burden lifted from his heart. Moments earlier he had begged Guilliman to kill him for fear of Father seeing him like this—of Father's disappointment—of being viewed as a corrupted monster.
But now Father's voice was gentle, caring. It warmed him.
"Rest easy, Corax. Horus and I will purge the Chaos from you.
For now, there is other work—Fulgrim must be punished," the Emperor said.
Corax nodded and, escorted by Custodes, retired to a private chamber to rest.
…
On the other battlefield—Guilliman had departed, but the Lion El'Jonson, Sanguinius, Horus, and Vulkan had already been teleported by the Emperor to the front.
Lorgar's face soured. Surrounded by four, his nerve faltered.
"Long time no see, Lorgar. I've missed you," Horus said first.
"Let's have a good talk, brother."