Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, outside the Lupercal Council Chamber.
Maloghurst paused at the threshold, three breaths later, he stepped through the Wolf Arch.
His gaze swept across the two sides of the obsidian throne.
Horus Aximand, in grey-green Mark IV power armor, stood to the right of the Warmaster's throne.
Ezekyle Abaddon, clad in gleaming black Justaerin Terminator armor, adapted from Cataphractii pattern, stood opposite him.
"Warmaster, I have just received two messages from the Segmentum Solar," Maloghurst said slowly.
"What messages?"
"Nareth's First Chapter has taken control of the Akum-Sothos Cluster."
"What?" The black armor trembled slightly.
Abaddon's chest heaved with ragged breaths.
"Howard, he dares!"
"I will kill him!"
"I told Nareth, beneath those colonnades, how many names were carved there. I also told him Akum-Sothos was where our conquest began."
The Warmaster leaned forward slightly, raising his hand to quell Abaddon's fury.
"And the other message?"
"The traitor Lucius of the Emperor's Children has seized Cthonia. He proclaims that our homeworld will serve Nareth..."
Crack!
A web of cracks spread from beneath his black boots, the soles pressed into the floor.
Abaddon's legs bent slightly, his body tensed as if ready to brawl with another gang thug.
"Nareth! He wants Cthonians to serve him..."
"He wants the sons of Cthonia to become sons of Nareth..." Little Horus's eyes blazed with fire.
The glory of the old Four Kings Council was no more. Cthonia had been the vessel of past honor and brotherhood, and now Nareth had taken it.
"Akum-Sothos... Cthonia..." The Warmaster savored the two familiar names.
Suddenly, the banners overhead stirred without wind.
One banner, a black eight-pointed star against a pale sky, began to glow with radiant colors.
On another, densely packed and twisted, the eyes of a bird-headed creature shimmered with prismatic light.
"Devote yourself wholly to me, and fate shall favor you, Nareth will be crushed in the tide."
On another banner, a crimson sea of blood rippled.
"You need greater power to grind Nareth beneath your heel."
"No!" Horus clenched his gauntlet.
The Moon Wolf reared and leaped, stepping upon the Great Ocean.
"I will win this war in my own way."
He relaxed his fist. "To achieve greatness, we must focus on a single goal."
"To behead the Emperor, to become the new Master of Mankind, that is my objective."
"All actions serve that goal. We shall return to humanity's homeworld along the Crimson Path, and forge a new future for my people."
"To hell with the Crimson Path," Abaddon spat.
"I want revenge, now."
Horus descended from the obsidian throne, placing his hand on Abaddon's shoulder.
"Ezekyle, to forge this great work, I need your help."
Abaddon looked up, his father's gaze was fixed upon him; he felt as if he were the only star illuminated by the sun.
He nodded, then abruptly paused, turning his head away.
"Neither Akum-Sothos nor Cthonia lies along the Crimson Path."
Abaddon stiffened his neck. "I want revenge, you need to give it to me now."
"Ezekyle, you will have your chance for revenge. On the next step of the Crimson Path."
"The Coronid Deeps. Nareth's greatest domain."
"It will also become the foundation of our cause. Its productivity will sustain our great work," Maloghurst said.
"His people shall become Sons of Horus; following the Warmaster to crush his other domains," Aximand said.
"Indeed." The Warmaster looked toward another arch.
"Regulus, on this gloomy day, have you brought me any good news?"
"Great Warmaster, you have just heard two ill tidings. I bring you two pieces of good news."
"Oh?" Horus raised an eyebrow.
"We are eager to hear the good news you bring."
Regulus, seeing Abaddon and the others looking his way, nodded to them in acknowledgment.
"M'Pandex has submitted to you, they have made one request."
"M'Pandex and Mezoa are ancient rivals. The two Forge Worlds have warred for millennia, had it not been for the Mitus, then Nareth and the Imperium, they would have fought to the death long ago."
"Mezoa." Aximand frowned.
"Mezoa is a volcanic world, no Titans are stationed there, but they have obtained the standard construction templates for Ramilies-class Starforts from Nareth, and five void fortresses guard it."
Regulus nodded. "Thus, we must remove this thorn, or Mezoa will remain a constant threat to your domain."
"The other good news I bring will help you secure victory in the void war."
He moved to a cogitator, black mechanical tendrils extended into its interface.
With an unsettling screech of corrupt code, the cogitator wailed, then its screen flickered with a stream of numbers and symbols.
"We have helped the Death Guard perfect their Plague Ships."
"Though the Death Guard's main force has not yet joined the war, they have provided their Mia Donna Mori."
By applying decades of biochemical arsenals and the toxic experimental chambers, the maturation of the Plague Ships was accelerated.
Three hundred and fifty escort ships and twenty-eight second-line cruisers were also incorporated into the program.
Mortarion was eager to obtain battlefield feedback from the experiments.
An eerie green light shot skyward, the three twisted rings hanging from the dome stirred with seven waves of seven.
Seven, then seven more escort ships materialized from nowhere, interspersed with three, then three more cruisers.
"Each of them carries toxins capable of killing Astartes, pathogens that corrupt machinery, and viral weapons that can devour entire worlds."
"Their dark pilgrimage will spread supernatural plagues, contaminating fresh water supplies and corrupting entire biospheres."
"We do not want dead worlds," Maloghurst, said calmly.
A chill crept up from Aximand's feet. He looked at the other four, utterly indifferent to millions of deaths, and sighed inwardly.
"No, the Plague Ships do not bring total annihilation. They are not armed with extinction-class weapons like the Life-Eater virus."
"The new warships crafted by the bio-magi will sow panic, spread fear, and weaken the enemy, without destroying the entire world."
Horus nodded. "Excellent."
"You have brought me good news. Deploy the Plague Ships immediately."
"Tell M'Pandex, if they want Mezoa, they must mass-produce Plague Ships for me."
"As you command," Regulus said, bowing slightly.
"The Dark Mechanicum shall devote all its strength to your great work."
Twelve hours later, plague-code ravaged M'Pandex's data networks.
Billions of data-cycles, tens of millions of memory-crystals, and millions of records were annihilated in the pandemic's wake, a pall of death settled over every library.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu