Chapter 32 Abaddon This Is Not How the Script Was Supposed to Go!

Following the fall of Cadia, the galaxy was violently torn in half.

The catastrophic Warp rift expanded with unprecedented, horrifying scale.

Nightmare phenomena bled aggressively into realspace, slowly eroding the boundaries of physical law.

The guiding light of the Astronomican was suddenly, violently extinguished.

Across the Imperium Nihilus, countless Imperial vessels were instantaneously blinded, lost in the chaotic depths of the Immaterium with absolutely no sense of direction, consumed by suffocating dread.

“Is this where it ends?

Am I destined to die here in the Empyrean?” “God-Emperor, why have You forsaken me?” “I beg of You, answer my prayers!

Why…

why have You abandoned me?” Deep inside the bowels of a colossal Rogue Trader vessel named the Hand of Glory, bearing the proud heraldry of the Von Valancius dynasty, Theodora Von Valancius sat upon her cold command throne, murmuring to herself in a voice heavy with utter despair.

Initially, she had believed this was merely a routine Warp transit.

That assumption shattered the moment a catastrophic Aetheric storm violently slammed into their vessel, completely knocking them off their calculated flight path.

After a grueling, agonizing struggle to push through the eye of the storm, the Navigator shrieked in absolute terror: the guiding light of the Astronomican was completely gone.

Now, the Immaterium surrounding them was nothing but a suffocating abyss of pure, primordial darkness and despair.

Without the Astronomican’s light, and with violent Warp storms aggressively battering the hull, the Hand of Glory was completely and utterly lost.

There was absolutely no mathematical way to calculate a safe translation back to realspace.

If they lingered in the Warp for too long, the catastrophic structural stress would eventually cause the Gellar Field generators to fail.

The moment the field flickered, the billions of starving, hateful Daemons clawing at the hull would flood the decks and tear every single soul aboard to bloody shreds.

Just as Theodora had completely surrendered to despair, genuinely believing her death was imminent…

A frantic, deeply excited voice echoed from the deck behind her.

“My Lord!

A light!

There is a light!

It is guiding us!” Hearing this, Theodora violently whipped her head around.

The man sprinting toward her was Kunrad Voigtvir, her most trusted subordinate.

Kunrad was the Master of Whispers for the Von Valancius dynasty, the absolute head of her intelligence network, and her most trusted confidant.

“Kunrad!

What light?!

What are you talking about?!” Theodora grabbed him by the shoulders like a drowning woman clutching a lifeline.

“My Lord, the Navigator just reported a massive pillar of light!

It has provided us with exact, stable coordinates for realspace translation!

Do you authorize an emergency Warp jump immediately?!” Kunrad shouted.

“Are you insane?!

Of course I authorize it!

Translate to realspace immediately!” Theodora roared.

“At once!

I will relay the order to the Shipmaster!” Moments later, the massive warning bells tolled across the ship, and the automated klaxons blared the warning broadcast.

[Emergency translation to realspace initiated.

All hands, secure yourselves to your crash-couches or find a localized tether point.] [Emergency translation to realspace initiated.

All hands…] Hearing the broadcast, the crew frantically scrambled for the nearest crash harnesses.

Following a violently turbulent, hull-screaming transition, the Hand of Glory violently tore through the veil, successfully emerging into the cold, silent void of realspace.

Though multiple primary systems had suffered catastrophic damage during the storm, as long as they had time to conduct repairs, the ship would eventually fly again.

“What exactly was that light?” Having narrowly survived the abyss, Theodora immediately demanded answers from Kunrad.

“I do not know, my Lord.

According to the Navigator, the light materialized instantaneously.

More concerningly…

its psychic signature was fundamentally, entirely different from the God-Emperor’s,” Kunrad shook his head, his expression grim.

“It matters not.

Prioritize ship repairs.

Once we have sub-light propulsion restored, we will investigate the source,” Theodora commanded.

The Hand of Glory was far from the only vessel to experience this exact miracle.

Across the Imperium Nihilus, countless ships that had been violently trapped in the Warp following the opening of the Great Rift and the death of the Astronomican were suddenly, miraculously saved by the guiding light of the Beacon City.

And every single one of them shared the exact same profound confusion: What was this new guiding light, and why did it lack the Emperor’s divine signature?

In response, dozens of Imperial factions operating in the dark half of the galaxy immediately dispatched heavily armed scouting fleets to investigate the phenomenon and uncover the truth.

The navigational light projected by Vane’s Beacon had completely replaced the Astronomican within the Imperium Nihilus.

It allowed Imperial fleets to resume long-range Warp travel, stabilizing the catastrophic logistical collapse and preventing the countless besieged worlds in the dark half of the galaxy from completely fracturing into anarchy.

— Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the galaxy, the Farseers of the Aeldari Craftworlds also immediately detected the anomalous Beacon light.

Among them was Eldrad Ulthran, the greatest Farseer of the Aeldari.

He was currently leading a host of the Ynnari through the Webway, en route to the ice world of Klaisus.

His objective was to assist the desperate Imperial survivors fleeing the Cadian system.

The Imperium of Man had lost the Battle of Cadia.

The galaxy was torn in half.

The End Times had arrived, granting the Chaos Gods an unprecedented, apocalyptic strategic advantage.

However, the Aeldari Farseers knew that Archmagos Belisarius Cawl carried an artifact of absolute, paramount importance—a relic that could potentially save the galaxy and invert the entire strategic paradigm.

As long as they could assist Cawl in delivering this artifact to Macragge, there was still a sliver of hope.

“What is that light?” “This variable…

it does not exist within any strand of fate I have foreseen.

Has there been a catastrophic error in my calculations?!” Eldrad’s mind was consumed by profound, deeply unsettling confusion.

He had originally calculated that the opening of the Great Rift would plunge the Imperium Nihilus into absolute, paralyzing darkness, permanently destroying their capacity for interstellar travel and fracturing the empire into chaotic, isolated fiefdoms.

That exact scenario heavily favored Aeldari interests.

A crippled, half-dead Imperium would still act as a meat-shield against Chaos, but it would completely lack the logistical capacity to suppress the inevitable resurgence of the Aeldari Empire.

But this new, impossibly powerful navigational light completely shattered his grand strategy.

— Deep within the Warp, the sudden manifestation of the Beacon’s light caused the four Chaos Gods to immediately halt their eternal Great Game.

The Big Four stared in absolute, profound bewilderment at the hyper-dense pillar of light piercing their domain—a light that was noticeably more concentrated and brilliant than the Astronomican itself.

Even the endless, teeming hordes of Daemons momentarily ceased their endless infighting, whispering in confused, guttural tones.

What is going on?

Wasn’t the light of the Anathema just violently extinguished?

Why is there a brand-new pillar of light?!

Did another Anathema just spawn in realspace?!

— Back in the physical universe, within the ruins of the Cadian System.

Abaddon the Despoiler, currently aggressively pursuing the fleeing Imperial survivors, received the frantic report from his Chaos Sorcerers.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN A BRAND-NEW ASTRONOMICAN HAS APPEARED ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIFT?!” “What in the name of the Dark Gods is the Corpse-Emperor scheming now?!” Abaddon roared in absolute, apocalyptic fury, violently slamming his fist onto the tactical hololith table.

The terrifying force of his strike completely shattered the heavy adamantium construct into a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Witnessing the Despoiler’s rage, his Chaos Lords and Sorcerers didn’t even dare to breathe, absolutely terrified of drawing his ire and suffering an agonizing execution.

After destroying several more command consoles to vent his fury, Abaddon forcibly reigned in his temper, his mind cold and calculating once more.

The situation in the Imperium Nihilus is entirely secondary.

Once I finish my primary objective here, I will personally devise a strategy to annihilate this new Beacon.

I, Abaddon, the undisputed Warmaster of Chaos, Chosen of the Four Gods, swear it!

“Focus all efforts on hunting down Archmagos Belisarius Cawl!

He absolutely cannot be allowed to escape this sector alive!” “Ignore the other fleeing Imperial vessels!

Concentrate the entire fleet’s firepower exclusively on the Mechanicus Arks!” Abaddon aggressively adjusted his tactical deployment, ordering the Black Legion fleet to violently dog the Adeptus Mechanicus ships like rabid wolves, desperate to completely extinguish the final ember of hope for the Corpse-Emperor’s loyalists.

The moment the planet Cadia had shattered, Zaraphiston, Abaddon’s Chief Sorcerer, had issued a terrifying prophetic warning.

The Imperial defenders of Cadia had been utterly crushed, but the fleeing Archmagos Belisarius Cawl carried an artifact of unimaginable consequence.

It was an artifact capable of resurrecting the long-slumbering Lord of the Ultramarines: the Primarch Roboute Guilliman.

Abaddon understood the terrifying tactical implications perfectly.

If Roboute Guilliman was resurrected, the fractured, bleeding Imperium of Man would immediately rally behind a singular, demigod commander.

If that happened, completely annihilating the Imperium would demand astronomically more time, resources, and blood.

There was even a statistically significant chance his ultimate victory could be entirely derailed.

He absolutely could not allow that to happen.

The Era of the Primarchs had ended ten thousand years ago!

Roboute Guilliman absolutely could not be allowed to wake up and interfere with the Crimson Path!

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