The broadside batteries of the Pride of the Emperor unleashed the bombardment they had long prepared, catching the Fist of Iron completely off guard.
The escort ships scattered throughout the Emperor's Children formation also moved according to the prearranged plan, cutting directly between the vessels of the Iron Hands fleet.
Macro-batteries on the ornate hulls unleashed volley after volley.
The purple-gold fleet flashed between the black ships, delivering a devastating punishment to their former brother fleet, crippling most of their ability to fight back.
Only the Gloriana-class battleship Fist of Iron, its thick hull blazing with defiant fire, returned fire against the Pride of the Emperor.
The Simulus Chamber-guided, precision fire scarred the Pride of the Emperor's pristine, ornate hull, leaving massive, searing wounds.
"Father." Vespasian, ignoring protocol, burst into Fulgrim's chambers, striding past unfinished canvases.
He saw his father look up, his expression somber. He slowed.
A flicker of life passed across Fulgrim's pale features. "How goes the battle?"
Vespasian took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
"Victory will be ours soon. But what are you doing?"
"Attacking the Iron Hands?"
"Why?"
Fulgrim stared at Vespasian. "This is the Warmaster's command. Ferrus refused to obey it."
"He also betrayed the oath he swore to me at Uralan."
"I must punish him."
"Lord Ferrus betrayed you and the Warmaster? How is that possible?" The Lord Commander frowned, puzzled.
"Why did you not tell us during the Royal Court council before the battle?"
"All our deployments were made for the Orks."
"Vespasian, are you questioning me?" Fulgrim's tone was sharp.
"I am obeying the Warmaster's command. This battle was truly never about the Orks."
"What was it about?" Vespasian asked, uneasy. His father seemed so alien.
"To correct our terrible mistake. To purge the cowards from our ranks who lack the courage to do what is necessary." Fulgrim stared at Vespasian.
"A bloody reckoning is coming."
"My dear son, we will cross the Rubicon. We will take our first step along the path opened by the Warmaster."
Exicetement laced in his voice: "The Warmaster will forge a new order for us. It will be a radiant realm of perfection."
"Father-" Vespasian tried to press, but Fulgrim cut him off.
"Vespasian, I want to show you a painting."
Fulgrim guided Vespasian to a canvas, but the physical contact brought no warmth.
Vespasian's blood ran cold as he stared at the horrific image.
His father was grotesquely transformed, his face gaunt, his mouth twisted.
Strange symbols covered his armor, like noxious maggots writhing on its surface.
Vespasian felt a soul-deep pain. He tried to look away from the corrupting image.
But his father's hand on his back forced him to stare. He gazed into the lidless eyes, feeling the painting's gaze upon him, its expression twisted with cruel triumph.
"Submit to me! Expose your deepest desires to me!"
Vespasian felt the grotesque form peel back the layers of his soul, like an onion, probing his innermost thoughts.
Bang!
Vespasian's right knee hit the ground. He drew his sword, using it to support himself, refusing to fall.
He felt every corner of his mind prodded by the claws of evil, unearthing all the pain and bitterness burned into him by the Great Crusade: The deaths of battle-brothers, the fear and despair over the Legion's corruption.
Vespasian tore his gaze from the painting. He leaped, swinging his sword at the hateful image.
"He is worthless. Kill him." A terrible voice came from the painting.
"Vespasian." Fulgrim drew his silver blade.
"Desire grants eternal pleasure. Those without desire are useless."
"What a pity. You could have chosen to stand beside me, yet you reject the path toward greater perfection. You refuse the superior enhancements. You refuse to use the pleasure-drugs."
"You have proven yourself a pest among the Emperor's Children. And pests must be removed."
Clang!
The ornate blade was parried.
"Akurduana." Fulgrim withdrew his blade, staring at his beloved son, who had stepped to Vespasian's side.
"Father, what are you doing?" Akurduana stared at him.
"You are raising your blade against your own son. Do you intend to become the beast Angron is?"
"Kill them!" a terrible voice came from the painting.
"Never! He is my most beloved son!" Fulgrim placed his blade on a nearby weapon rack, beside the Skullbreaker he had forged.
"Vespasian has betrayed me. He has betrayed the Warmaster."
"But I have decided to give him one more chance. Take him away, before I change my mind."
Fulgrim watched Vespasian's retreating back, shaking his head with regret.
If he had such warriors fighting for the Warmaster, how perfect would the Emperor's Children be?
But he was too stubborn. He resisted the surgical enhancements, refusing to let his warriors taste the intoxicating pleasure of Fabius's chemical stimulants.
He refused to embrace the future. He and his warriors would die in the Isstvan trap.
As Fulgrim thought, his comm-bead buzzed.
"Father, we have pierced the Fist of Iron's shields. We are about to sink the Iron Hands flagship."
"No! Cease fire!" Fulgrim shouted. "Turn towards the Mandeville point. Proceed to Isstvan immediately. We must join the Warmaster's punitive forces."
On the central avenue, Vespasian felt a chill. The cold gleam of the silver blade, the twisted light of its purple gem, flashed through his mind.
Vespasian spoke, his voice pained. "He has changed."
"He is no longer the wise Primarch who established the Phoenix Court, listened to counsel, and made good decisions."
Akurduana nodded silently. He boarded a Stormbird in silence, returning to his own ship.
The entire Emperor's Children fleet abandoned the Iron Hands ships, heading directly for the Mandeville point.
At the same time, Akurduana, in his quarters, drew his sword and rapidly carved the "Euclidean Runes" into the floor, then knelt and prayed to the Black Emperor.
"My Lord." Akurduana knelt. "Since our father drew that silver blade in the Temple of Laer, everything has changed."
"...that is what happened. I saved Vespasian."
"I-I am certain our father intended to kill Vespasian."
Nareth nodded slightly. Akurduana's account matched his memory, with two key differences:
One, Solomon Demeter had not been singled out for his perfection in the campaign against the xenos stragglers.
Fulgrim had therefore not withdrawn the 1st and 3rd Companies in a later battle, putting the 2nd in danger.
Nareth had expected this. Akurduana was now the Lord Commander. With his beloved eldest son still at his side, Fulgrim would not target the 2nd Company.
The other was that, in his memory, Vespasian had been killed en route to the Calinides system. His warriors, who refused Fabius Bile's drugs, were the main targets of the Isstvan III purge.
'Akurduana is truly Fulgrim's favorite.'
'Vespasian, who survived by a hair's breadth, also seems disillusioned with his gene-father.
'Hmm… another opportunity to swindle. Vespasian, one of the eleven Lord Commanders, one-eleventh of the Emperor's Children. That's at least ten thousand warriors!'
He said, "The Warmaster has rebelled."
Akurduana was stunned, then a sharpness flickered in his eyes.
'The Emperor choosing Horus as Warmaster was a mistake.'
'He should have chosen my Lord.'
'My Lord could have used the Warmaster's authority to achieve His goals.'
"Fulgrim has sided with Horus. The silver blade he drew in the Temple of Laer is possessed by a Keeper of Secrets."
With a mental pulse, Nareth transmitted knowledge about Chaos and the Four, especially Slaanesh, to Akurduana.
As Akurduana absorbed the flood of information, he recalled the silver, purple-gemmed blade.
Though beautiful, it had felt sinister. Now he knew it was inhabited by a daemon.
He also remembered the hideous painting.
"My Lord, is there a way to awaken our father from the Keeper of Secrets' temptation?" Akurduana looked into the black mist.
'Fulgrim was still well-liked before his fall. He favored Akurduana greatly.'
'That's good. I need Akurduana to warn Perturabo not to fall for Fulgrim's ascension scheme.' Nareth spoke.
"You may try but be careful." He remembered Fulgrim had fallen into a state of regret after killing Ferrus.
The Keeper of Secrets had taken over his body, trapping Fulgrim within that painting.
Nareth didn't know if his own interference would cause other changes.
He warned, "When you counsel Fulgrim, be measured. Do not provoke him into attacking you."
Akurduana felt light shine from the mist, dispelling the darkness around him.
"I thank you for Your concern. I will be careful."
Nareth extended his spirituality, touching Lucius's orb. Finding him alone in his quarters, polishing his blade, he drew him into the Kingdom of Disorder.
Lucius looked around, finding himself in the mystic realm. "My Lord."
"Horus and Fulgrim have laid their plans. They, along with the World Eaters and the Death Guard, will purge the disloyal from their Legions on Isstvan III."
"Lucius, you will warn the other loyalists when they give the order."
Nareth decided to use this opportunity to further his own agenda.
"Then, you will make for Terra to report."
Terra must know, to act in time, and thus weaken Horus's forces against him.
At the same time, Lucius and his allies would be a key force for his own plans in the Segmentum Solar.
"But be careful. Do not directly approach Malcador or Dorn."
Nareth remembered that Nathaniel Garro, after his perilous journey to the Sol System, had been confined to the Sisters of Silence fortress on Luna for lengthy interrogation.
He would not let his own people be tortured or imprisoned, hindering his plans.
"By Your will." Lucius replied with excitement. Serving the Black Emperor, who was stronger and more perfect than his father, promised a brighter future than staying with the fallen Emperor's Children.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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