Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor
Chapter 385 - 386 – The Savior: Something Weird Seems to Have Slipped In!?

The Realm of Excess and Depravity.

With Guilliman's arrival, the entire dreamscape seemed to pulse with renewed excitement, morphing into ever more extreme temptations.

Yet in a corner neither of them noticed, a serpentine figure silently slithered into the Warp-born illusion, camouflaging itself as one of the scantily clad, enticing figures.

Eden looked around at all the snow-white silhouettes and sighed with feeling.

"Both of us showing up this time… Now this is something new."

The Savior and the Imperial Regent, standing side by side against the snow-white armies of Slaanesh. If anyone leaked footage of this scene, Slaaneshi cultists would go mad with glee collecting it.

The Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition would scream the Emperor's name and launch a full purge to destroy all traces of it.

Fortunately, Slaanesh had some boundaries—no Emperor-shaped illusions, no female versions of Him, and certainly no gender-swapped Wolf Queen. Otherwise, it'd be way past Eden's tolerance.

Thankfully, all of this existed only in his mind. The chance of it leaking was low.

With righteous indignation, Eden declared:

"Brother Guilliman! This time, let's work together to wring some freebies from Slaanesh!"

Guilliman froze for a moment at those words but quickly nodded with a firm expression.

He was used to his brother saying strange things now and then.

Regardless, he had to protect Eden from this depraved trap of Chaos. He couldn't allow his brother to fall to corruption.

Just as Eden was about to shed his robes and go wild, he saw a blue figure bolt forward.

"Huh. This illusion version of Guilliman is surprisingly eager. Seems a bit out of character."

But when he saw where Guilliman was charging—to a stage full of alluring Eldar women and a cosplaying Ynnead's Avatar that looked like Yvraine—

Ah, that made sense.

"Didn't expect this side of you, Guilliman…"

Eden had once heard some classified rumors suggesting the Lord Commander might have something going on with the Aeldari's death-priestess.

He never believed it. But now?

Well, maybe.

Of course, he was only teasing.

After all, this dreamscape version of Guilliman was shaped by Eden's own subconscious. His perceptions twisted the illusion.

Within the Illusion of the Eldar Opera House.

The Fallen Phoenix, Fulgrim, had disguised himself as one of the Eldar dancers, moving gracefully with ballet-like elegance on stage, seemingly immersed in the performance.

His posture was frail, seductive—yet his focus remained locked on the approaching Guilliman.

A hidden stinger glinted with venomous intent.

The moment the Regent entered this trap crafted by Slaanesh for the Savior, Fulgrim—banished from it for so long—finally sensed an opportunity.

Until now, Slaanesh had never allowed him to interfere with these temptations, afraid his envy would sabotage them.

But this time, the Dark Prince permitted it.

That alone thrilled Fulgrim.

He glared daggers at the Regent.

Thinking of Guilliman's glory on Baal, Fulgrim seethed with jealousy. He couldn't accept that this so-called "loser" had everything now. His thirst for revenge only grew.

Let that bastard, who always scorned the Warp, finally be swallowed by it.

He'd hit him again, harder than before.

And after that? He'd go to the stars… and hunt down each of Guilliman's "sons" with cruelty and flamboyance.

Let him watch them die, one by one.

Fulgrim's dance grew more elaborate as he prepared to strike.

Then, in the very next second—

His rhythm shattered.

Before he could make his move, Guilliman opened fire.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Hand of Dominion spewed a storm of shrapnel, tearing into the illusionary Eldar dancers.

The white stage turned crimson.

The spiritual constructs collapsed into rotting chunks of flesh.

Then the Emperor's Sword cleaved the cosplay Yvraine straight down the middle. Her body fell in halves.

Chaos erupted on stage.

Fulgrim, still disguised, screamed as he fled the scene—but it was all an act.

As Guilliman gave chase, Fulgrim launched his ambush.

In an instant, his mutated limbs extended, the venomous stinger emerging from his clenched fist, dripping with black, steaming poison.

Black gas surged forward, masking the deadly blade aimed straight for Guilliman's throat.

A killing blow.

Fulgrim was certain it would land.

He'd used this trick before—and that time, he'd sent Guilliman into a millennia-long coma.

Now he was even better.

There was no way that fossil could dodge this.

Clang—!

But reality shattered his hopes.

The Emperor's Sword blocked the strike.

Guilliman deflected the blade upward and cleaved the stinger clean off.

Seeing the attacker, he roared in fury:

"Fulgrim!"

Even in disguise, the sickly sweet stench of decay gave him away.

"You really missed me that much? Do you remember your humiliating defeat?"

Fulgrim's voice was shrill, operatic, exaggerated.

His legs vanished, replaced by a long, gem-studded serpent tail. His face and torso stretched grotesquely, with extra arms sprouting from his chest.

Despite the distortion, his movements were strangely graceful.

"Look at me—perfect in my own way."

His pale purple skin shimmered. His serpent scales glinted with jewels. His body was adorned in twisted, ornate S&M gear. Even his nails were painted in garish colors.

He flaunted his form, moving with perverse elegance—so alien that even the Eldar would be ashamed to look upon him.

He was a warped parody of beauty.

Grotesque.

As he transformed, the illusion warped with him.

The once pure and alluring Slaaneshi mirages twisted and shrieked, sprouting mutated organs, becoming hideous.

Fulgrim licked his garish lips and sneered:

"This time, I'll make sure you never wake up!"

The ambush failed—so he embraced open battle.

Maybe a public victory would taste even sweeter.

Brandishing his blade, his snake-body surged forth toward Guilliman.

"Come, loser! Let's finish what we started ten thousand years ago!"

Shame there weren't enough spectators.

A shame he'd soon regret.

Fwoosh!

The Emperor's Sword ignited with golden flame, blocking all attacks.

Even the venomous sprays were incinerated mid-air.

Guilliman stared down the abomination who had once maimed him and slaughtered his gene-sons.

"This time, I won't fail. Never again!"

The Regent launched a furious assault.

Each strike forced Fulgrim onto the back foot. Shockwaves shredded the surrounding nightmare realm.

Fulgrim soon realized:

His old enemy had grown stronger—not just leaning on his father's sword, but in body and soul.

A few exchanges in, he had already lost the upper hand, barely dodging each attack.

He shrieked and summoned the dream-creatures of Slaanesh to assist him.

They swarmed forward—armed with oversized appendages, barbed whips, and cruel instruments of torture.

But Guilliman stood firm.

Clang!

Amid the chaos, Fulgrim's trick worked. He knocked the Emperor's Sword from Guilliman's grip.

Laughing triumphantly:

"The tables have turned, loser. Now the real duel begins—!"

"You're right."

Guilliman's eyes crackled with storming fury.

He blew aside the mobs, charged straight through them, and smashed Fulgrim with a furious burst from the Hand of Dominion.

Fulgrim screamed as he took the hit.

But his reflexes remained sharp.

He coiled his long serpent tail around Guilliman, constricting with savage force.

Yet even then, Guilliman grew stronger.

The ceramite-blue figure grabbed Fulgrim's throat.

"Look at what you've become!"

Gone was the proud Phoenix. All that remained was a twisted mockery of his former self.

Guilliman's fury boiled over. His punch deformed Fulgrim's face.

The thick makeup melted into a grotesque mess.

The Phoenix shrieked in pain.

Another brutal strike.

This time it wasn't the Emperor beating him down—it was Robert Guilliman.

His old loser of a brother.

"No—!"

Fulgrim's pale face turned scarlet with humiliation.

He tried to fight back, but the storm that was Guilliman only beat him harder.

…

Not long ago—

"What's going on? Something doesn't feel right…"

Eden was completely caught off guard by the Regent suddenly drawing his sword and going on a killing spree. He had been watching with interest, fully expecting a good show of Guilliman fighting off the seductive Eldar illusions.

He'd never encountered such a sudden shift before.

Stroking his chin, the Savior frowned in confusion, then suddenly sucked in a breath.

"Tch—Don't tell me this turned into a gore-porn version?"

More and more grotesque mutations began to manifest, and the seductive mirages were now waving freakishly deformed appendages as they rushed toward him.

Yeah, this little 'freebie' session was clearly a bust.

Eden had no choice but to stop stripping down, resist the corruption of the Dark Prince's realm, and raise his power sword to fight.

"Was Slaanesh offended? Or just out of ideas?" he muttered, fending off the swarming horrors.

"This experience gets one star. Maybe half."

He swung his sword in wide arcs, mercilessly cutting down the twisted creatures.

In the middle of this bloodbath, he suddenly felt a familiar psychic presence—along with the sound of screaming. That came from the area where his bro was.

He looked up and saw Guilliman locked in battle with a serpentine, flamboyant monstrosity.

Eden blinked.

Something freaky really had invaded his dreamscape.

But that aura—he recognized it.

The Fallen Phoenix.

Fulgrim had slipped into the illusion, likely aiming to launch a sneak attack.

That was extremely dangerous. If Eden was caught off guard here, Fulgrim could do real damage even within a dream.

The sense of danger made Eden's heart pound. But a new question quickly popped into his mind—

How the hell did Guilliman get in here?

That part made no sense. Guilliman was basically a psyker-cripple. Even contacting Eden from afar required a psyker intermediary.

How could someone like that enter this Warp-forged dream?

Maybe Big Daddy Emperor sent him in?

The idea made Eden breathe a little easier.

Good thing he hadn't gotten too "involved" with the illusions before Guilliman showed up. That would've been embarrassing.

"Hang on, bro—I'm coming!"

Eden didn't hesitate.

If Fulgrim had the nerve to come after the Savior, then he'd leave in tears.

This was officially a brotherly team-up.

Just after Guilliman smashed Fulgrim's snake-face in, Eden flew in and landed a perfectly timed kick to the gut—following up with a brutal combo.

The two brothers absolutely demolished the Fallen Phoenix, pinning him down with no chance to retaliate.

Guilliman was loving it. It felt like the Great Crusade all over again.

He tore through Fulgrim's grotesque accessories and unleashed strike after furious strike, venting ten thousand years of rage and betrayal.

Between the two of them—

Fulgrim was reduced to a beaten, bloodied mess. No time to dodge, no time to counter. Just a big squishy snake-shaped punching bag. He didn't even get a word in.

Boom!

Fulgrim slammed into the ground, snake body curled up in pain, eyes blazing with hate.

"Savior!"

Eden wasn't impressed.

You sneak into my dream and try to kill me, and you want sympathy?

He smiled darkly.

"Not just the Savior. I've got some private footage too."

"Bro, you'll love this—let me share something fun."

Raising his hand, Eden projected a massive illusion in the air—highlight reels of Fulgrim being humiliated by the Emperor, and again by Eden himself.

And just now? More fresh clips added to the collection.

The scenes showed Fulgrim being pounded senseless, shrieking like a gremlin with a stubbed toe.

The Savior and Regent watched the giant floating images with amused expressions. Eden's face was unreadable.

Guilliman, though, looked… surprised. He clearly didn't expect Fulgrim to look this ridiculous.

"NOOOOOOOO!!"

Fulgrim screamed.

The tears came fast, theatrical, and tragic. Ever the performer.

But now, even he knew—he could no longer hold his head high in front of Guilliman. All his vanity and pride had crumbled.

He was genuinely distressed this time.

"You monster! I never broke my oath—I never even attacked you! Why would you broadcast this to everyone?!"

Eden blinked in confusion.

"Oh? You weren't trying to kill me? My bad then."

That nonchalant reply hit Fulgrim harder than any punch.

He trembled in fury, unable to speak.

"Don't worry. Bro and I will keep it all a secret," Eden whispered with a sly grin.

"And of course, we'll never leak those spicy little messages you sent me…"

Fulgrim's eyes widened in horror.

Right. He had, in fact, sent the Savior numerous messages. Forbidden ones.

Massive betrayal of Slaanesh right there.

Now he was utterly, completely silent.

Before he could recover, the Savior and the Regent struck once more, destroying the last of Fulgrim's invading power and forcibly ejecting him from the dream realm.

Then they shattered the illusion itself—

...

Baal, Resort Beach.

The waves rolled in. The red supergiant still hung high overhead.

It was already daytime.

"Tch…"

Eden groggily awoke, rubbing his aching head. The dream's disruption had clearly left lingering effects.

Slaanesh illusions usually made him feel better.

This time? Utter failure. He felt drained and tired.

"You alright?"

Guilliman had already woken and offered a hand, looking genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine, just a little dazed," Eden muttered, blinking. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Hey, bro, you didn't… use psychic powers, did you?"

There was a faint trace of something… but no clear sign.

Guilliman was still a psyker-null. No warp signature, no divine aura.

The Regent didn't answer directly. Instead, he warned:

"Eden, you must control your Warp use. That power is dangerous. Use it with caution."

Eden nodded seriously.

"You're right. It's not a force to play around with."

He'd always sought ways to restrain it.

"By the way… did you get a message from Fulgrim?"

Eden glanced at Guilliman.

Apparently, the Fallen Phoenix had sent another psychic message—this time pleading with the Savior not to leak any more humiliating footage. He even asked Eden to pass that along to Guilliman.

Guilliman shook his head.

"No. Why?"

"Guess that means you really didn't use psychic powers," Eden thought. "Or he would've reached you too."

He told the Regent the whole story. With this new leverage, Fulgrim would definitely behave for a while. At least long enough to stop bothering the Imperium.

Guilliman was thoughtful.

"Well done. Your method is more effective than mine…"

Killing corrupted Primarchs wasn't easy—and some could even return. The best outcome was suppressing their actions, protecting the Imperium through containment.

He walked to the edge of the sea, inhaling the salty breeze.

For some reason, after that dream, he felt stronger. Rejuvenated. Even… lighter.

Eden joined him, also gazing at the ocean.

He noticed it immediately—Guilliman looked better.

Stronger. The wrinkles were gone. No more dark circles. His hair was smooth and full again. The man looked years younger.

"All that from just a nap?"

This trip was way more effective than expected.

"…By the way."

Guilliman said abruptly, as if it had been weighing on him:

"The rumors about me and Yvraine are false. The Imperial Regent would never form such a relationship with a xenos. That must be clear."

"???"

Eden froze.

Why bring this up now?

Did I talk in my sleep? There's no way… right?

"Come. We should begin preparations for the Mists region."

Guilliman turned without waiting for a response, sounding just a little flustered.

Eden nodded slowly.

His fleet was fully assembled…

(End of Chapter)

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