Seeing Bonar’s stunned expression, Tzeentch smiled with satisfaction.
If the existence of the Warp had already made Bonar feel that the Imperial Truth needed only a few minor corrections, then the Imperium ten thousand years later could only be described as having ground the Imperial Truth underfoot and rubbed it into the dirt.
“Did Father’s Great Crusade fail?
Why did the Imperium become so ignorant?”
“Your father, the Emperor of Mankind — the Great Crusade he launched was a success.
One could even say it pulled humanity back from the abyss.”
“But…
someone betrayed him.”
“Your father, the Emperor of Mankind, in order to realize the great undertaking of the Great Crusade, created twenty powerful beings.”
Tzeentch gave a casual wave of his hand, and they arrived on the Bridge of a warship.
A towering figure stood before them.
Power claw on the left hand, war hammer in the right, clad in black power armour with crimson eyes.
And facing him was that magnificent presence — the Emperor of Mankind, radiating golden light.
The two roared and crashed into each other.
The bloodied power claw drove into the Emperor’s body, sending blood spraying, yet the Emperor refused to strike the killing blow.
“No!
Stop!.” Bonar screamed.
The vision lurched.
Countless warships hung above Terra, raining down bombs.
Countless Astartes and Titans slaughtered each other across that glorious earth, and the fires of war had nearly destroyed everything.
“The Emperor’s progeny betrayed his wishes.
Nine traitorous Astartes Legions raised their blades of rebellion against him without hesitation, and reduced all of his efforts to ash.”
Finally, Bonar watched the Emperor tremble and lower himself onto the Golden Throne.
His heart nearly shattered.
He reached out helplessly toward the phantom on the throne.
Bonar sank to his knees.
Uncle Malak had been right.
Those big cornstalk Astartes had been right too, that lot were never worthy of trust.
This was the fatal mistake his own father had made.
Even the ordinary human soldiers who had died fighting before the walls of the fortress were far more noble than them.
A heavy hand came to rest on Bonar’s shoulder.
He looked up and saw the warrior in red heavy armour.
“But you still have a way to stop all of this.”
Bonar nodded.
There was still time to prevent this disaster.
He looked toward the black figure in the vision.
Right.
The only way was to kill him.
He nodded and stood up.
“Can you…
help me?”
Tzeentch pushed up his glasses and smiled warmly.
“Of course, child.”
“We can teach you many things and grant you great power.” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Bonar reached up and took hold of the golden aquila pendant at his neck.
His hand closed into a fist.
He had to stop all of this.
Whatever the price.
He nodded.
Four forces rose slowly and gathered around him.
He could feel how powerful they were.
With these, he could stop the disaster from happening.
The aquila on his white robes flared gold, then was swallowed instantly by the surging tide of the Warp, without so much as a ripple.
The feeling was…
strange.
It was as if many voices had appeared inside his head all at once.
Some were screaming to hack down everything that moved.
Some were conjuring up all manner of amusements Bonar had never imagined.
Some felt the world was too full of suffering and wanted to bring compassion to it.
And some were devising countless bizarre and wondrous spells.
The voices were noisy, but Bonar could still suppress the strange impulses they carried.
What he was more curious about, though, was something else entirely: why had there been a golden force dwelling inside him all along that he had never noticed?
It felt similar to his father’s power, yet somehow unfamiliar.
When had it gotten in there.
And why had they immediately started fighting the moment they met each other?
“Alright, child.
Next you will need a little training, so that you can defeat your fearsome enemies.”
Tzeentch had just been about to steer Bonar toward his Crystal Labyrinth when he suddenly remembered.
His Crystal Labyrinth.
…It seemed, perhaps, possibly…
Had just been thoroughly smashed apart by Khorne’s armies.
“Ha ha ha, child, come with me — the Lord of Justice and Courage shall teach you the arts of combat!”
He looked to bring in the other two, but Slaanesh was smiling vacantly at nothing, face flushed, drooling.
Nurgle still wore that same honest, simple look, seemingly not caring at all who went first.
How was anyone supposed to defeat Khorne working with this rabble?
…
Terra.
“My Father, I shall fight for the Imperium of Man, and fight for humanity’s highest ideals, until my dying breath.”
The Emperor tenderly helped his beloved son, Horus, to his feet.
“Rise, my child.
You have already done very well.”
He patted Horus on the shoulder, looking at him with great satisfaction.
Courteous to the worthy.
Sharp-minded.
And according to the Adeptus Mechanicus reports, Horus also seemed to possess considerable talent for command.
“It is not enough, my Father.
I will do everything in my power to fulfill your demands.”
The two walked side by side.
Not far away, God-Machines strode past in measured steps, and armored formations vast as mountains filled the parade ground in perfect order.
After the Imperium’s alliance with the Adeptus Mechanicus, its strength had grown by leaps and bounds before everyone’s eyes, it had become an unstoppable force.
The opening ceremony of the Great Crusade.
“My child, the Great Crusade ahead carries a heavy burden over a long road.
You will have many arduous tasks to complete.”
“That is only natural, my Father.
I shall win victory for you.”
“You also have many brothers scattered out there, dispersed across every corner.
When I go to seek them out, military and political authority shall be temporarily entrusted to you.”
A flash of displeasure crossed Horus’s face.
It became a gentle smile just as quickly, the kind of skill that long years of gang life had made second nature.
“I can hardly wait to meet them.”
The Emperor’s footsteps suddenly stopped.
Horus blinked.
“If…
you happen to encounter…”
Then a wave of his hand.
“Never mind.
Pretend I said nothing.”
Horus was a little confused, though he still couldn’t figure out why his dear father was so troubled.
The celebration ended, and the Emperor had matters to discuss with the Adeptus Mechanicus, those red-robed figures always loved to dig their heels in over the most outlandish points.
Once Horus found himself at leisure, the very first thing he wanted was to find out what had been weighing on his father so heavily.
After a considerable stretch of investigation, using his exceptional gift for conversation and personal charm, Horus finally managed to pull some clues out of the reticent Thunder Warriors.
It turned out that before him, Father already had a son.
An involuntary flash of displeasure moved through him.
He tore through every relevant record in a frenzy, and gradually came to understand what kind of existence that person was.
Kind.
Intelligent.
Diligent.
Warm.
Nearly every word of praise could be applied to him.
Even the extremely exacting Malcador the Sigillite and the Adeptus Custodes held him in very high regard.
Those proud Thunder Warriors would sometimes not even deign to glance at the Adeptus Custodes, yet before Bonar, they were utterly deferential.
They didn’t even mind patiently explaining, again and again to ordinary mortals, just how great His Highness was.
Even though neither Bonar nor the Emperor had ever acknowledged the title of “Crown Prince,” the vast majority of people had come to accept it.
Crown Prince.
Horus’s hand closed into a fist.
That title irritated him greatly.
It should obviously be me who is Father’s proudest son.
But fortunately, Bonar had gone missing.
No one knew why he had disappeared, though many believed he had gone to carry out a secret mission for the Emperor.
Horus smiled quietly.
I will prove that I am the one Father is most proud of.