Kingdom of Disorder, fourth layer. Nareth extended his spirituality, touching the glowing orb of Gahlan Surlak, Chief Apothecary of the World Eaters.
He saw Gahlan wrapped in a black robe, alone except for an operating table.
He moved his mind, pulling Gahlan into the Kingdom of Disorder.
Gahlan was swallowed by black mist, then found himself in the mystic realm.
He looked into the depths of the mist, seeing the Black Emperor upon his throne.
He knelt. "My Lord."
"I am currently in Tredesima, capital of Bert, overseeing recruitment for the Crimson Priests of Sarum and the Ember Wolves."
Nareth nodded. He knew Bert was one of the World Eaters' original recruiting worlds and a defensive base.
Due to weapons testing by the World Eaters and their allies, Bert had been transformed from an arid world into a toxic hellscape.
Candidates aspiring to become World Eaters fight brutal battles against Auxiliary gangs on the radiation-scarred wastes; the survivors become candidates.
"Mago of the 18th Company and others can no longer bear the fall of the noble War Hounds. They have been asking me, with increasing frequency, how long they must endure."
"In the past year, Mago, Kourage of the 21st Company, and Keptra of the 37th Company have all come to Bert to see me in person."
"Mago has come twice this year. He is still here in Tredesima."
"The time has come."
Gahlan had merely reported the World Eaters' restlessness to the Black Emperor, not expecting a command.
He breathed a sigh of relief. He was not good at persuasion; each time he calmed the angry Mago and the others, it was only through the use of mandrake-scented candles and oils.
More importantly, he could now escape the mire and serve the Black Emperor.
"But not all of them."
Gahlan's heart sank at the Black Emperor's low voice.
"The Warmaster has betrayed the Emperor. Angron has sworn loyalty to him."
Gahlan's pupils dilated. The Emperor's first-found son, his beloved Warmaster, had betrayed the Imperium.
"Angron will gather the Legion and head for Isstvan. On the third planet, he will purge the disloyal sons within the Legion."
"Angron..." Gahlan thought of the scene on Ghenna's orbit, Angron's merciless slaughter of his sons in the Conqueror's hall. He silently accepted the harsh reality.
"Therefore, Mago and the others must change course before reaching Isstvan."
"My Lord, where will they go?" Gahlan asked respectfully.
"The Coronid New Zone."
Nareth remembered that Isstvan was adjacent to the Coronid Deeps, and the Warp routes between them were not disrupted by storms.
After the Isstvan III purge, the few surviving loyalists who fled to the Coronid Deeps were one of the destinations.
After the Isstvan campaign, Horus had chosen to lead the Sons of Horus and Mortarion's Death Guard in an attack on the Coronid Deeps, in part for this reason.
Gahlan's mind raced. After a few seconds, he reported.
"My Lord, there will be about forty thousand of them."
Nareth nodded slightly. Sending most of the World Eaters he had gained to the Coronid New Zone was part of this consideration.
The World Eaters would bolster the expanse's defenses while also avoiding the purge, a twofold strategy.
The Blackstone Fortress could defend against ships, but ground combat would still require Astartes, Titans, and Knights.
"Those like Dreger, who are level-headed and have not openly shown discontent, will remain with the Legion for now."
Nareth remembered Dreger, Captain of the 9th Company, was the most lucid of the World Eaters.
He had not been purged, and had participated in the Siege of Terra.
He had always worn his blue-and-white War Hounds armor, scorning the fall to Khorne.
Nareth needed them to stay close to Angron, to track his movements before his ascension and seize the opportune moment.
Gahlan also had a task. Tredesima's final value belonged to Nareth.
Gahlan was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected the Black Emperor to know the Legion's internal affairs so intimately, to know whom Angron would purge.
'My Lord is a true god. Of course He knows.'
He gathered his thoughts and bowed.
"By Your will."
Gahlan said respectfully, then the black mist swallowed him, returning him to his apothecarion in Tredesima.
He clasped his hands in an inverted hold, repeated the prayer oath eleven times, then lowered them.
In the dim light, he donned his armor.
He climbed the spiral stairs. He quickly input a rune sequence on the cogitator's console.
Cold mist billowed as the Chief Apothecary stepped through the door, opening a comm channel.
"Mago, I have good news for you."
A harsh, ragged breath came through. "Gahlan, damn it, get here now."
"You need to see what we've become."
The channel was abruptly cut.
Gahlan glanced at the tactical display, Training Ground 48.
Nineteen minutes later, the Stormbird descended through swirling dust and sand.
Gahlan stepped down the ramp, looking out.
He saw eight drill instructors lying in the sand, their armor half-buried in grey-green dust.
Nearby stood a group of stunned youths, armed with clubs and blades, their clothes in tatters.
An eight-year-old boy, his right arm broken, blood dripping, clutched a blade in his pale left hand.
A short distance away, a large Auxiliary warrior stood, blood dripping from his axe blade.
The crimson War Hound on his neck was taut; he dared not make a sound.
Ten meters from the Auxiliary gang members and the boy stood Orenthes, Warmaster of the 18th Company.
"Gahlan, what are you doing?"
Dust swirled as Mago rushed to Gahlan.
"Candidates should be rigorously trained, but this is slaughter."
"They are children! You have them fight against the dregs of the Auxilias!"
Eyes fell on Mago, then quickly looked away. They looked at the dozens of torn corpses in the pit.
Mago had not been gentle with them, as he was with the World Eaters; he had merely knocked them unconscious.
Gahlan calmly switched to an encrypted channel.
"Angron established this recruitment method after Dorset."
"I cannot stop him."
"You let this happen?" Mago demanded.
"Where is the hope you promised? Can't you see them? They're lost in the slaughter. They don't even use your spray guns."
His roar made the bloodied boys tremble.
Gahlan still responded on the encrypted channel: "My promise still stands."
"I told you to be patient and wait for hope. The time has come."
"Horus has rebelled. Angron will purge the disloyal sons from the Legion on Isstvan III."
"What?!" Mago exclaimed. 'The great Warmaster, the Lupercal, had betrayed the Imperium?'
His thoughts shifted. Images flashed through his mind: Quadra Ni, Bucho, Tricatton, Systres IV, the failed 31-hour conquests, the decimations.
Ghenna's orbit, the same failure. Angron, because he had resisted, had ordered him to strangle the neophyte Salir with his own hands.
Terminator Barto, trying to calm him, had been torn apart.
The Widowmaker, drenched in the blood of his sons.
"You tell me this is hope? What hope?" His Butcher's Nails whirred.
"Calm yourself." Gahlan touched his belt. A cool, soothing scent wafted through Mago's respirator.
"You must gather all those he would purge."
"Stop them from going to Isstvan. Your destination is the Coronid New Zone."
The whirring grew fainter. "Lord Nareth's domain."
"Yes." Gahlan's voice rose.
"The hope I spoke of is Lord Nareth."
"He will accept you. You will fight as proud War Hounds, against the cruel father who would betray you."
The whirring faded.
Mago remembered how Lord Nareth had given the Reapers chance after chance, transforming them from bloodthirsty killers into Shadows of Order.
"I understand."
In the fourth layer of the Kingdom of Disorder, Nareth watched the glowing orb, slowly withdrawing his extended spirituality.
He had just, through a mystical link, influenced Mago, making him believe Gahlan's words and agree to go to the Coronid New Zone.
'The Coronid New Zone will face the main force of two Legions after all. It's still not entirely secure.'
He extended his spirituality again, touching another glowing orb.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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