Blue banners in the voidlight glow,
Ultramar stands, bolters low.
A Primarch walks with measured flame,
order carved into his name.
Then came the blade of a brother betrayed,
Fulgrim in poisoned parade.
Steel met pride, perfection screamed,
venom kissed Guilliman’s gene.
He fell in silence, cold and still,
ten thousand years against his will.
Stasis coffin, empire cracked,
mankind bleeding, stars in black.
But legends don’t stay buried long.
He woke to war.
He woke to ruin.
A galaxy split in half by Chaos’ ruin.
Armor sealed with ancient light,
a burning sword, a commander’s sight.
He rose again through faith and fire,
not as myth—
but higher.
Courage and Honor—
written in his bones.
Courage and Honor—
carried by his sons.
Every world is worth the stand.
Every life obeys command.
Indomitus—he took the stars,
rebuilding hope from broken wars.
He marched with fleets of thundered blue,
turning aftermath into breakthrough.
From hive to shrine, from ash to dawn,
the Avenging Son pushed on.
No crown of gold, no godly plea—
just duty
and necessity.
Then rot itself came crawling near,
Mortarion wrapped in plague and fear.
Brother against brother once again,
blade vs bile, resolve vs decay.
Poison clouds and daemon skies,
but Guilliman did not compromise.
He burned corruption from the air,
met death itself and didn’t care.
Warp screamed loud.
Faith burned bright.
A Primarch stood against the blight.
Courage and Honor—
through fire and grave.
Courage and Honor—
the Emperor’s brave.
Not perfect.
Not divine.
Just mankind’s shield in borrowed time.
So remember this when worlds collapse:
Ultramar answers.
Guilliman adapts.
Not for glory.
Not for praise.
For humanity.
Always.
Courage and Honor.
DeltasCommander
