Chapter 50: Perturabo's Third Lesson — "Practical Training"
Early Morning — The Briefing
It was far too early.
Even by Astartes standards.
Erebus stood in Perturabo's command chamber, arms folded, eyes half-lidded with fatigue. Around him stood Lorgar, Magnus, and—somehow already awake and irritated—Angron.
"…You dragged us here for this?" Erebus muttered.
Perturabo ignored him.
"As I have said," he began coldly, "there is too much knowledge in my mind to simply explain to you."
He activated the hololithic display.
Stars ignited.
Systems flickered into existence.
A thousand worlds.
"A commander is not made through theory," Perturabo continued. "Only through war."
His finger tapped a single planet.
The image zoomed in.
A world of cathedrals.
Fire.
Faith.
"This world is steeped in religious belief," he said. "I selected it personally. Its population is… compliant with your interests."
A faint pause.
"Heretics, by your definition."
Immediate Interest
Erebus' eyes sharpened instantly.
Lorgar straightened.
Magnus leaned forward.
A religious world?
Perfect.
To them, faith meant one thing—
Fuel.
Warp resonance.
Sacrificial potential.
And most importantly—
A chance to test their growing mastery over Chaos.
Though—
Their reputation in the Warp was… complicated.
Sometimes, even mass sacrifices failed to draw a single daemon's attention.
But an entire world?
That changed things.
Perturabo's Condition
"I will assist you," Perturabo said flatly.
"My Legion will support your campaign."
Then—
A pause.
"I have one condition."
Erebus narrowed his eyes.
"…Go on."
Perturabo's gaze hardened.
"You will return Dammekos… and Calliphone… to me."
Silence.
"…I have made mistakes," Perturabo admitted stiffly.
"And I will correct them."
Erebus studied him.
Carefully.
Then nodded.
"…Fair."
Preparations
"I have assigned units suited to your… methods," Perturabo continued.
Then he glanced at Magnus.
"…No Librarians."
Magnus' eye twitched.
Petty.
Absolutely petty.
But he said nothing.
If needed—
He would simply "borrow" from Lorgar.
Deployment
The fleet translated into orbit.
Below—
The world burned with faith.
Cities clustered around vast temples.
Pilgrims filled the streets.
Chants echoed through vox relays.
Perfect.
Perturabo stepped back.
"You will command this operation."
He folded his arms.
"Show me what you have learned."
The Collapse of Expectations
Erebus nodded.
Then—
Removed his helm.
And calmly handed command to Lorgar.
"…Your show."
Lorgar accepted it.
Gravely.
Then—
Immediately passed it to Magnus.
"…You have the clearest mind."
Magnus blinked.
Then—
Placed a hand on Angron's shoulder.
"Lead."
Perturabo froze.
"…What?"
Angron Commands
Something shifted in Angron's expression.
Calm—
Flickered—
Then shattered.
"World Eaters!"
His voice thundered across the vox.
"Kill them!"
"For the Emperor!"
"For Terra!"
"And for—whatever he's calling himself today!"
"EXTERMINATE THE HERETICS!"
Perturabo stared.
Completely numb.
Ground Assault
Drop pods screamed through the atmosphere.
Word Bearers.
World Eaters.
Descending together.
Impact.
War.
But—
Instead of immediate slaughter—
They sent coordinates back to orbit.
Perturabo frowned.
"…What are they doing?"
Moments later—
Massive transport barges descended.
Carrying—
A statue.
A towering, faceless Golden Throne effigy.
It slammed into the center of a city plaza.
Dust billowed.
Citizens screamed.
Priests panicked.
The Discussion
As construction began—
Erebus turned casually.
"I have a question."
Magnus frowned.
"…What now?"
"Did the Emperor ever tell you he loved you?"
Silence.
Magnus said nothing.
Lorgar looked away.
The answer—
Was obvious.
"No," Erebus said softly.
"Then why… does he say it to Perturabo?"
No one answered.
The Idea
Erebus' eyes gleamed.
"Because Perturabo needs it."
A pause.
"And we—do not."
Lorgar crossed his arms.
"…So?"
"So we fix the imbalance."
Erebus turned—
Gesturing toward the rising structure.
"We give him what he lacks."
Magnus narrowed his eyes.
"…You're not serious."
Erebus smiled.
"Oh, I am."
The Plan
Lorgar stepped forward suddenly.
"I understand."
He raised a hand dramatically.
"We will build a statue!"
Magnus groaned.
"No."
"Of Perturabo," Lorgar continued, ignoring him.
Magnus pointed.
"No."
"And teach this world to worship him!"
"I SAID NO."
The Argument
Erebus sighed.
"You two don't understand."
He gestured between them.
"You're already gods."
Magnus froze.
Lorgar blinked.
Erebus continued:
"I am the prophet."
He pointed at Lorgar.
"You are the voice of faith."
Then—
A grin.
"And Perturabo?"
He looked toward orbit.
"…He becomes the god of structure."
Magnus facepalmed.
"This is a disaster."
Lorgar Decides
"…Even our brothers?" Lorgar asked slowly.
Erebus shrugged.
"Faith defines truth."
A long pause.
Then—
Lorgar nodded.
"…Very well."
Magnus collapsed into a chair.
"Oh no."
Perturabo's Realization
Aboard the flagship—
Perturabo stared at the incoming reports.
"…They're doing what?"
An Iron Warrior officer hesitated.
"They are… constructing a statue."
"…Of what?"
"…Of you, my lord."
Silence.
"…What."
The Title
The next report arrived.
Designation:
"The Omnissian Architect of Iron"
Perturabo's eye twitched violently.
"…That is the worst title I have ever heard."
Below — Total Chaos
"WORSHIP!" Lorgar roared.
"BELIEVE!" Erebus added.
Magnus quietly questioned his life choices.
Meanwhile—
Angron rampaged through the streets.
Laughing.
"How dare you resist the Emperor!"
"You heretics!"
"I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"
Perturabo Watches
From orbit—
Perturabo watched everything unfold.
Slowly.
Silently.
Then sighed.
"…I made a mistake."
A long pause.
"…I should have chosen a dead world."
End of Chapter 50
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