Chapter 64 We Have a Niece?! (Bonus)

For ten thousand years, Fulgrim’s true form had been hiding out in Slaanesh’s domain of excess, gorging himself on an endless feast of souls and partying hard with daemons. Whenever the mood struck him, he’d step out just long enough to stuff fragments of his own soul into exquisite pieces of jewelry, slipping them into realspace. The moment some clueless mortal put on one of these cursed trinkets, they’d be corrupted by the sheer depravity inside, turning into his mindless puppets.

The Tetrarch of Macragge had accidentally bought one of these gorgeous accessories from a merchant, completely unaware that it housed a sliver of Fulgrim’s soul. Having worn the trinket just a handful of times, the oblivious Tetrarch was violently corrupted, heavily degenerating until his mind and body were molded entirely into Fulgrim’s plaything.

Fulgrim’s master plan had been to use the Tetrarch to offer the demonic crown to the human Forefather, dragging him down into their hedonistic hellscape of endless debauchery. But to his absolute shock, the guy completely shrugged off the Prince of Pleasure’s divine power.

Realizing the gig was up, Fulgrim figured he’d just drop a few edgy villain lines and recall his soul fragment. Instead, Vane essentially hijacked the fragment and set it on fire with some bizarre, alien flame.

The exact second the fire caught, Fulgrim—tucked safely away deep within the Warp—realized the flames were actively traveling up the spiritual tether connecting the fragment to his main body. Before he could even process what was happening, he was absolutely swallowed by an agonizing, burning torment. Unable to control himself, Fulgrim let out a blood-curdling shriek and started thrashing wildly on the floor.

A few Daemonettes tried to soothe the out-of-control Daemon Primarch, only for a wildly thrashing Fulgrim to literally rip them to shreds in his agony. The brutally gory scene terrified the rest of the handmaidens, sending them shrieking and scattering in every direction.

Just as his daemonic entourage and cultists were completely at a loss, one of the Daemonettes suddenly started violently convulsing. A sliver of the Prince of Pleasure’s actual will had possessed her body. Slaanesh manifested a toxic blade that radiated an intoxicating perfume and plunged it straight into Fulgrim’s body, surgically severing the chunk of his soul that was tethered to realspace.

With that corrupted piece of his soul amputated, the agonizing burning instantly vanished. Fulgrim just lay there on the floor, gasping desperately for air.

“Unless you are absolutely certain of your success, do not provoke him again,” Slaanesh warned, looking down at the weakened Fulgrim before vacating the Daemonette’s body.

Damn it, what the hell kind of fire is that? How could it trace the fragment all the way back to ignite my core soul?!

Missing a chunk of his spirit, Fulgrim allowed the surviving Daemonettes to help him limp back to his throne, his face plastered with genuine, lingering terror.

—

Back on Macragge, Vane watched the monster turn to ash and actually looked a bit disappointed. If the guy hadn’t rage-quit and severed the connection, the First Flame would have kept burning all the way up the line until it reduced his true body into a soulless, hollowed-out husk.

The Lion, Sanguinius, and Guilliman watched the whole exchange and couldn’t help but click their tongues in awe. The Forefather really was built different. He had way too many broken mechanics up his sleeve. Even with just a tiny soul fragment, he managed to make Fulgrim pay a massively painful price.

Because they dealt with it instantly—and since the viewing platform was way above street level and the live broadcast was cut immediately—the citizens down below were completely clueless about the little demonic incident that had just played out on the dais. So, the minor hiccup didn’t ruin the vibe, and the grand parade concluded flawlessly.

—

After wrapping up the festivities, the three Primarchs sat down at the negotiating table with the Ynnari.

In the original timeline, the Ynnari had been incredibly arrogant because they held the key to Guilliman’s resurrection. But now, their attitude was incredibly humble. They were basically asking to become a vassal state of the Imperium just to secure their race’s right to survive in the galaxy. They were terrified that making an enemy of the Imperium would put them squarely in Vane’s crosshairs. The guy was just too ridiculously overpowered, and honestly, they didn’t have much faith that Cegorach, the Laughing God, or Ynnead, the God of the Dead, could handle him.

After a lengthy discussion, Farseer Eldrad and the others agreed to hand over the ancient knowledge of the fallen Aeldari Empire in exchange for vassal status under humanity. In return, the three Primarchs promised to carve out a safe haven for the Aeldari and even backed their eventual plans to leave the galaxy entirely and migrate to other star systems.

“We have truly failed our ancestors. To think we’ve been reduced to begging the mon-keigh for protection,” Autarch Meliniel of Craftworld Biel-Tan sighed heavily after the meeting concluded.

“We have no other options,” Eldrad replied, mirroring the Autarch’s grim expression. “If we didn’t submit to humanity and they declared war, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Our last surviving Laughing God, and our soon-to-awaken God of the Dead… I fear they would simply become more trophies for that human Forefather.”

“But is an alliance like this truly secure?” Sylandri Veilwalker asked, a note of worry in her voice. “If the humans decide to break the treaty, we have absolutely no leverage to stop them.”

“What else can we do?” Yvraine sighed softly. “What, are we supposed to secure a political marriage with the humans?”

The moment those words left her mouth, the mood among the Aeldari instantly shifted.

A political marriage… wait, that actually sounds like a great idea. The only question is, who’s the best candidate?

Unanimously, every single Aeldari turned their eyes straight toward Yvraine. Sure, she had a few obvious xenos traits, but even by human beauty standards, Yvraine was undeniably gorgeous. Plus, her resume was stacked: leader of the Ynnari and the chosen Emissary of Ynnead. In modern Aeldari society, she was basically royalty.

Sensing the sudden, deeply uncomfortable shift in the room’s vibe, Yvraine quickly backpedaled. “I was just being sarcastic! What the hell are you all thinking?!”

“Humans and Aeldari have complete reproductive isolation! A political marriage is literally impossible!”

“…”

—

With the victory parade wrapped up, the news of the three Primarchs’ return was broadcast across the entire galaxy via the Astropathic Choir network. Countless Imperial factions were absolutely hyped by the news, with massive numbers of them immediately mobilizing their forces to rally under the Primarchs’ banners.

The Lion, Sanguinius, and Guilliman immediately got to work streamlining the military and administrative systems, gearing up to launch a brand new crusade to purge Chaos and xenos from the galaxy.

Meanwhile, the mobile fortress that had been busy paving a literal road through the Warp finally arrived at the Macragge system. Following its pre-programmed routines, the fortress used modified obsidian blocks to anchor a Warp rift, establishing a stable entrance and exit. Next, it constructed a colossal staging platform nearby to act as a rest stop and resupply hub for passing ships.

And just like that, a Nether Highway running straight through the Great Rift—connecting Macragge directly to the Cryptus System—was officially open for business.

Receiving the alert, the three Primarchs, a massive entourage of Imperial loyalists, and the Aeldari Farseers all rushed to the edge of the Macragge system, eager and completely shell-shocked at the prospect of actually seeing a high-speed highway built straight through the Immaterium.

The Lion, Sanguinius, and Guilliman had barely stepped off their transport shuttle and onto the tunnel’s platform when it happened.

Sanguinis, who had been left behind on the mobile fortress to look after the tunnel, came sprinting over with sheer excitement and threw herself straight into Sanguinius’s arms.

“Father! I finally get to see you again!”

“Your daughter missed you and the Forefather so much!”

Father?!

Daughter?!

Our niece?!

Guilliman and the Lion looked like they had just been struck by lightning. They stood completely frozen, their eyes bugging out of their heads. Behind them, Calgar, Celestine, Cawl, and the entire Aeldari delegation including Eldrad were equally gobsmacked, their jaws practically hitting the floor.

Holy Emperor, the sky is falling. The Great Angel has a daughter?!

“Sanguinius… w-who is your wife?” Guilliman stammered, his hand actually trembling. “When did you even get married?! How is your daughter already this old?!”

The news was just too explosive. Even a master statesman like him couldn’t process it. His brother had actually gotten hitched. What kind of woman possessed the sheer, irresistible charm required to lock down their Ninth brother?

Meanwhile, Eldrad and the Aeldari were eyeing Sanguinius’s massive, demigod physique with sheer, unadulterated horror.

To survive sleeping with a Primarch… what kind of ridiculously durable woman could possibly withstand that kind of punishment?!

Seeing everyone’s completely unhinged reactions, Sanguinius nearly blacked out on the spot. He frantically tried to explain that Sanguinis was actually the human personification of his flagship, the Red Tear.

“The Red Tear?!” Archmagos Cawl was the first to speak up. If his databanks weren’t glitching, the Red Tear was a massive Gloriana-class battleship. How in the Omnissiah’s name had a kilometer-long warship turned into an adorable, well-behaved young girl?!

Even if the Machine God himself came, it shouldn’t be this absurd!

—

I guess this is it for this week, but we did really well maintaining TOP 25 consistently (though we could do even better since more than 1,300 people are reading this daily now).

Bye!