Alexander's consciousness entered the Greater Daemon's body, using its form to survey his surroundings.
He stood on a marble platform, using Body Clay to mold the Greater Daemon into the likeness of Guilliman. Combined with voiceprint sugar to mimic his voice, and the Robot Director & Hot Actor Clapboard to imitate his behavior, it was almost identical to the real Roboute Guilliman.
This was the plan Alexander and Guilliman had devised: to use the Greater Daemon to disguise himself as Guilliman, tricking Fulgrim into placing the Slaanesh artifact, the Crown of Glory, on Alexander's head.
The illusions woven by the Crown of Glory were specially prepared by Fulgrim for Guilliman, so their allure wasn't strong for Alexander, and his spirit wouldn't be corrupted. Furthermore, the Greater Daemon's body, composed of vast Warp power, was sufficient to resist physical corruption.
Alexander could even use this opportunity to, in turn, corrupt Fulgrim with his own essence, letting Fulgrim taste the flavor of being corrupted.
Unfortunately, Slaanesh had bestowed too many blessings upon Fulgrim; according to Sanguinius' conjecture, Fulgrim might be one of the most blessed, twisted, and fallen daemon Primarchs. Alexander couldn't completely corrupt Fulgrim, only leave him with hard-to-remove wounds.
Alexander calmed himself. The parade was still ongoing. The war machine would carry this heavy marble platform through the entire city, treading every brick and stone of Limit Avenue.
Cheers continuously erupted from all directions. People exhausted their imagination, coming up with the most moving words to praise the Lord of Ultramarines.
The Adeptus Ministorum's hymns resounded incessantly throughout the city. Amidst the singing, the formations of Astartes stood firm as steel, marching on the path made of pale bricks.
These sights invariably stirred a sense of honor in people's hearts. Mortals felt honored to witness such a moment; the Astra Militarum and auxiliary forces felt honored to join the Primarch's parade; the Astartes felt honored to be with the Primarch.
Especially the Ultramarines, though they tried their best to suppress their inner feelings with reason, they still felt a surge of honor when looking at the representatives of other Chapters observing from the high platforms near the streets.
Look whose gene-father has returned?
Such emotions, subtle and imperceptible, permeated the heart of every warrior.
Among the other Astartes who came to observe, many couldn't help but miss their own gene-fathers, anticipating whether their gene-fathers might also return.
If it were truly Guilliman standing on the high platform, surely even his Primarch's heart would involuntarily swell with a sense of honor.
This was not about Guilliman's thoughts; it was simply human nature to be instinctively carried away by the atmosphere.
And this was precisely Fulgrim's trick.
A sense of honor is a good thing, but like any other emotion, it can become a crack for the Chaos Gods to invade.
The more waves of honor surged in people's hearts, the more it would strengthen the Lord of Hunger's power, and also increase Fulgrim's power in the real universe.
And that Magna Macragge city governor, corrupted by Fulgrim, would surely wait until the parade was at its grandest, when it could most stir people's sense of honor, before placing the Crown of Glory on Guilliman.
Alexander slightly withdrew his attention from, letting his gaze return to his own flesh and blood body.
"Fulgrim is still waiting," Alexander quietly said to Guilliman, who was beside him, wearing the Blind Spot Star and hidden from view.
"He's like a venomous snake, lurking in his cold, slimy hole, impatiently wriggling his body, waiting to bite us and inject us with putrid venom," Roboute Guilliman said in a low voice.
Alexander nodded in agreement.
Presumably, Fulgrim was also anxious at this moment, eagerly wriggling his body in Slaanesh's palace.
Just as Alexander and Guilliman eagerly hoped he would fall into their trap, Alexander also had another urgent matter.
He looked up at the voidships in the sky. Through the atmosphere, he could only see the fiery glow from the voidship engines.
Several of them were transporting the supplies Alexander needed—billions of them! Alexander felt an itch in his heart just thinking about it, eager to go up and see them sooner.
He just hadn't expected the fleet's arrival time to coincide with the parade ceremony, which meant Alexander could only focus his energy here first.
Although, from the current perspective, there was no need for Alexander's physical presence here anymore.
"I'll go up with you to check the cargo," Guilliman suggested.
Alexander, relying on his perception of the Blind Spot Star, cast a strange look at Guilliman: "This is your parade, and Fulgrim is about to make his move."
"I understand Fulgrim; he is essentially a coward and will not enter the physical universe. You and Sanguinius have also confirmed this."
Guilliman said in a composed voice:
"Just having your Greater Daemon here is enough, and I truly can't bear this moment anymore."
With that, Guilliman couldn't help but sigh.
The long and complex work had made Guilliman aware of the true state of the Imperium. This honor-filled occasion only deepened the gloom in his heart.
He really wanted to escape for a while.
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
Guilliman was indeed right; their temporary departure wouldn't matter.
If there were any unexpected events, Alexander and Guilliman could always use the anywhere door to rush back.
If they truly couldn't make it back, Sanguinius also had an anywhere door.
Alexander nodded slightly and took out an anywhere door from his four-dimensional pocket.
Rather than observing the ceremony here, he'd rather go see his money, which was about to be deposited.
Alexander pushed open the anywhere door and stepped through it with Guilliman.
This was a Vagabond-class cargo ship, one of the most common models in the Imperial merchant fleet. Two thousand meters long and five hundred meters wide, it was forged entirely from heavy metal—crude, sturdy, unremarkable, yet reliable.
But after Alexander and Guilliman entered it, they immediately noticed something was clearly wrong.
Silence, it was too silent.
This ship, which should have been filled with nearly twenty thousand crew members, was far too silent.
Machinery still hummed, steam still Damned, engines still rumbled deeply, but there were no human voices.
Only the background noise of the ship itself echoed, making the surroundings seem even stranger.
Even in this narrow corridor that Alexander and Guilliman entered, the lights were extinguished, leaving only the faint orange-yellow glow from the machinery operating around the corridor to dimly illuminate the surroundings.
This meager light was merely a drop in the ocean for the dark-enshrouded ship corridor.
Guilliman, his form concealed by the Blind Spot Star, subtly placed his hand on the Emperor's Sword.
Alexander and he didn't exchange words, but both understood that something had clearly gone wrong on this ship.
Who had attacked this ship? Fulgrim? genestealer? Or some other faction?
Regardless of who it was, it made Alexander's brows furrow slightly.
This is my money!
Alexander nodded slightly to Guilliman.
Guilliman silently guarded Alexander's side, and the two quickly pressed against the metal bulkhead of the narrow corridor.
Alexander placed his fingers on the bulkhead, made of rivets and square metal plates, and tried to permeate the ship with his will.
This was an ability he had acquired from the Malicious Art domain.
His will transformed into tendrils, continuously spreading throughout the entire ship, sensing every steam-venting pipe, every current-surging cable, and every clattering machine within this behemoth.
Then, Alexander heard a faint song, a song praising growth, shaping, and reconstruction, light and soft, like a chant or a melody.
As the song resounded, it seemed as if something was truly beginning to grow within this cargo ship.
Alexander abruptly took a step back, distancing himself from the ship, and watched as pale, bone-like structures grew out like branches.
These white bones appeared delicate and light, yet they easily tore through the thick steel plates that formed the bulkhead, filling the entire corridor in an instant, making the surrounding space even narrower.
But upon seeing these white bones, Alexander's expression improved somewhat, and a smile even involuntarily curved his lips.
"Spirit bones," Alexander whispered.
This pale, bone-like substance before him was the Warp-malleable material the Aeldari used to construct their craftworlds, warships, and weapons. It was solidified Warp energy, which, through the Bonesinger's manipulation, could be molded into any form.
Clearly, the Aeldari had implanted spirit bones within this cargo ship, completely destroying its original structure and replacing it with spirit bones for support, suppressing the original machine spirit.
This was clearly a trap the Aeldari had prepared for Alexander.
Finally, it had arrived. Alexander almost guessed who was ambushing him.
"Hehehe."
A laugh filled with joy, delight, and mockery echoed through the corridor, reverberating endlessly within the spirit bone-covered passage.
"The Human Death God is truly knowledgeable. It's not in vain that 'I' painstakingly predicted this brief moment, the moment you are alone on this cargo ship."
"Guilliman is conducting his parade, Sanguinius is far away. I only need to trap you so you cannot use that door which can traverse the galaxy at will."
A pale Aeldari Harlequin, dressed in flamboyant attire, his face covered in complex warpaint, and a ferocious smile, appeared skipping at one end of the corridor. He was almost devoid of mechanical equipment, only wielding two Harlequin Blades.
"I am Cegorach! I am the Harlequin, the madman, the lunatic, the Aeldari God of Laughter and Vengeance!"
"This body is my Harlequin Avatar, my actor, my mask walking among mortals."
An aria-like voice emerged from the Harlequin's mouth. The Aeldari Harlequin, calling himself Cegorach, laughed heartily.
He wasn't the real Cegorach; he was clearly an Aeldari Harlequin, a Harlequin Avatar, an actor in the Harlequin plays responsible for portraying the Laughing God himself.
He was equivalent to Cegorach's avatar in the real universe, a proxy for his will.
"And me!" A high-pitched, coloratura voice, filled with hunger and desire, resounded from the other end of the corridor. A Harlequin, cloaked and wearing a strange demonic mask, with horns, emerged from the darkness with a cat-like stride.
She continuously let out lewd and seductive gasps. Her body beneath the robe was exceptionally voluptuous and alluring, secreting a scent that stirred carnal desires.
"I am the Lord of Hunger! I am the Dark Prince! I am the Destroyer of the Aeldari! I am Desire! I am Craving!"
"I am..."
The Harlequin's voice suddenly rose. She loudly uttered the name that would make any race wary:
"I am Slaanesh!"