Chapter 38: The False Emperor
Nuceria Prime Orbit
Bucephalus, The Emperor's Flagship
Imperial Fleet
"Angronius assumes the mantle well." Malcador the Sigillite turned to his friend, proud that the agreed upon course of action had born fruit.
"Hm, yes. Aren't you glad we didn't go with your plan?" The Emperor teased.
"Honestly? I am." The ancient one replied, "I do wonder how things would've turned out if we had."
The Emperor flexed the fingers on his right hand, one by one as if to test the tiny servos moving along with them for any minute strain or imperfection. "We would've lost more than a Primarch. We would've lost a grand opportunity."
"Such as?"
"Malcador." His tone turned serious, and his golden brown eyes met the Sigillite's faded blue orbs, which blazed with the purple fires of the Empyrean. "Angronius has sired a child. Not one pieced together in a laboratory or shaped from warpcraft. One born naturally, from the womb of a woman."
Malcador couldn't believe his ears, "Are you sure?"
The Emperor nodded, "I saw her myself. I felt her presence, it isn't like anything I've ever seen before."
The Sigillite knew better than anyone, other than the Emperor himself, how painstaking and difficult the Primarchs were created. The astartes legionnaires that came after them inherited this complex process. That a child, a Primarch's child, was capable of being conceived through simpler and more natural means.. "This is... unprecedented. We must find a way to examine her, and the mother too!"
"Then we are of the same mind." He didn't tell Malcador of his previous apprehensions concerning the women Angronius was in company with. Not just any women either, lesser women. One had the stench of the Warp around her, the other even more so and reeked of mutation. The Emperor detested the idea of one of his sons, his own creation and masterpiece, defiled by the coiling influence of those harpies. Still, the situation could be salvaged. Angronius did bring a child into the world, and may yet bring more that could benefit the Imperium as a whole.
"My Emperor, anomalous readings detected." A servitor announced, interrupting their exchange. "Bringing pict-display now."
The Emperor of Mankind rose from his throne and neared the holo-map depicting the Nucerian capital. His brows furrowed with concern as he watched the inbound indicators, representing the approaching War Hounds assault companies, close in on Reksia from all sides. The anomalous readings bore a distinct feature- Warp Bleedout.
An enormous amount of it. He didn't need the prognosticators to tell him something big was brewing within that city, the kind that required a more professional approach. He could feel it, the nauseating stench of the otherworldly permeating through the thinning veil of reality.
And if Angronius and his legion were heading straight for it, he couldn't begin to imagine the devastation they would all suffer.
"Signal the War Hounds to stand down immediately." The Emperor ordered, "And begin priming the Bucephalus' macro-cannons for saturation bombardment. I want that old rock reduced to ashes and glass."
"At once, my lord!" The gunnery officers acknowledged.
"Sire, I have Legion Master Gheer on the line!" The communications chief announced, "He's demanding an explanation."
Irked by the apparent insolence of the legion master, the Emperor snapped. "Remind that fool where the order is coming from, will you? That is all the explanation he will ever need!" He then turned to the Captain-General of the Custodes, "Come, Valdor, we have certain anomalies in need of correction."
He, along with his honor guard, prepared to teleport to Nuceria Prime once the bombardment was completed. The Bucephalus' great engines roared to life as it turned and brought its massive weapons to bear. Once again, as it did on Fedan Mohr, the Emperor's flagship spared Angronius from needless slaughter by bathing the Nucerian citadel in hellfire.
It was a good thing they discovered this unexpected development sooner, as it presented the perfect opportunity for the Emperor to meet Angronius face to face once again. He had a feeling that whatever conventional weapons he used on that hideous blot on the map that was Reksia, the source of it would remain long after the city had been turned to ash. He brought with him his trusty sword, the one blazing with warpfire and meticulously etched with arcane symbols, and stood in the midst of his honor guard. With but a thought, he sent all of them down to the surface of Nuceria, just moments after the Imperial flagship finished turning Reksia into a blasted hellscape.
This particular mission required a more hands-on approach.
Outskirts of Reksia
Angronius squinted as the blinding light of the orbital bombardment assaulted the eyes of all who dared to look upon the destruction of the capital city. He shielded Sonjita's face with his hand, sparing her the agony of her having her retinas burned out as it did to some of their fellow freedmen who were facing in its direction just as the first barrage hit.
His expression darkened after his astonishment faded. He did not count on the Emperor's intervention, not this time and certainly not in this manner. Reksia was his to destroy, the city and all its inhabitants. All the pain and suffering he and the Eaters of Cities have endured led to this moment, and it was rudely snatched from their hands.
The gladiator king was angry, a cold and seething anger that could easily ignite into a burning fury. His wife shared his indignation, although by a slightly lesser degree. The capital city of their enemies was gone, that was all that mattered to her.
The bombardment continued for hours, and the earth cracked from the continent-shattering force of the Bucephalus' cannons. Mountains and hills collapsed in on themselves as shockwaves reverberated across Nuceria, while entire forests were blown away into great dirt storms. The intensity of the saturation bombardment was such that the War Hounds had to turn right around to avoid the aftermath. All of the transporters landed at a safe spot in the outskirts of Reksia, some twenty to thirty miles out of the city. Soon, after the deed had been done and the skies became clear once more, Legion Master Gheer dared to contact the flagship on the vox so he might inquire of the situation.
"Bucephalus, this is Legion Master Gheer. The War Hounds have stood down as ordered. What now?"
No answer from above.
"Damn it." Gheer muttered, turning to the Primarch. Angronius was looking after his injured men, whose bleeding eyes were immediately seen to by the legionary medicae. The Legion Master surveyed the destruction wrought by the Emperor and shrugged casually. "Huh, shortest campaign I've ever fought."
"That city wasn't his to burn!" Angronius roared suddenly, startling everyone who heard him. He whirled around and glared at the sky through the hole in the clouds where the fiery streaks of death were hurled. Another bright flash of golden light burst from thin air, and before him stood the Emperor of Mankind with his coterie of custodes. Angronius grit his teeth together, "You."
The Emperor tilted his head back and stared him down, "They are all mine to burn, Angronius. Never forget that."
It was at this moment that Angronius understood the Emperor for who he really was. The gladiator king was no student of politics, but he knew who people were just by looking at them. For all his supposed benevolence with his timely intervention by destroying the legions besieging them at Fedan Mohr, and sending the War Hounds to aid him in his war against Nuceria, the Emperor was still just another conqueror. He may have come from the stars, but his nature falls in parallel with the snakes ruling the dwindling empire they were both now standing on.
The Emperor knew exactly what he was thinking, and he wanted him to understand something else. He wasn't just another conqueror, he was the conqueror.
"You will be coming with me." He said to the seething Primarch.
"Where are we going?" Sonjita asked.
"Not you." The Emperor replied, "Him. Now. We don't have time to waste."
Grumbling silently, but intrigued by the mysterious errand his benefactor was sending him on, Angronius reluctantly departed with him via teleportation to the ashlands that used to be Reksia. When he traveled with them that far and that fast, it sent the gladiator king's head spinning. He didn't like teleportation, it felt like sorcery to him. Considering his experience with sorceries, Angronius had every right to hate any hint of magic or anything inexplicable happening to him.
Then, he felt it. The air around him was hot, and the ground emitted a series of frail little cracks wherever his feet trod. The overall atmosphere felt wrong, very wrong. It was a familiar feeling to Angronius, like the tingling sensation one should feel when in the throes of a feverish nightmare. The city had been destroyed, but the ruins left behind had a tangible aura to them. Amidst the ashes and glass stood the contorted forms of dead Nucerians, and some things not entirely human, still locked in whatever final moments they shared when the fires of heaven rained upon them. Their bodies were also smoldering ash, solidified like crude sandcastles and frozen in time like a relief sculpture of some madman's hideous design.
Angronius could clearly see that in their last moments the people of Reksia gave themselves over to complete and utter debauchery. Them and their slaves, they died together. But something told him that no one in the cursed citadel should be given liberty, for a dark presence has corrupted this place and none should be spared from judgement.
Even in death, their faces still showed a mixture of carefree ecstasy and insurmountable agony.
"I apologize for the unusual nature and abruptness of our second introduction, but I wanted to clarify a few misconceptions between us." The Emperor began, "And what better opportunity to clear them all up than this?"
"Why did you bring me here?"
"I just told you. Are you paying attention?"
Angronius snarled, ignoring Constantin Valdor and his custodes as they tilted their guardian-spears his way. He was running out of patience, and he had had enough of the Emperor's games. "You know exactly what I mean, Man-of-the-Stars! Did you spirit me away just to flaunt your power, of how easily you can give and take away what is mine?"
"Be calm." The Emperor said. The power of his command extinguished the gladiator king's ire. But before Angronius realized what was happening and had the chance to be angry again, the Emperor continued. "I brought you here to demonstrate why I'm going through so much trouble for you. Come, you must bear witness to this."
He beckoned for him to follow, which he did.
"Bear witness to what-" The words were barely out of his mouth when Angronius saw something that drained all the color from his face, and he froze where he stood.
Amidst the ruins stood the remains of the Nucerian Exalted Palace, which once stood as a pale imitation of a far more magnificent counterpart in faraway Terra. And at its heart stood the Ruby Throne, surrounded by a horde of withering ashen corpses still fixed in their final indulgences. The Ruby Throne itself had been broken in half, but its destruction was not wrought by the sheer force of the Bucephalus' orbital bombardment, it was cracked open by something else entirely.
What burst out of the scarlet cocoon was a thing born of the other side. It had the body of a man, the face of a man, but the discolored hue of its skin and the overpowering presence of the Warp were hallmarks of its hellish origin.
Six murderous spires of darkest onyx erupted from its smooth and hairless head to form a crown. Blood like black oil trickled from the wounds and cascaded down its beautiful face, as though anointing the creature king of the ashes. Its eyes were just as black, open windows to a hollow vessel that had long been robbed of its soul. Its skin, blue with a hint of royal purple, rippled with godlike musculature and moved gracefully like the waves of the Sodian Sea.
Angronius bore witness to the thing's blasphemous existence with awe, enraptured by the utter depravity standing before him.
It stood up, taloned hands clutching smoldering ash between its fingers. A leather loincloth of gold and white hung from his hips, and it fluttered in the wind that suddenly blew down from the West to sweep away the ashen corpses into nothing. When it opened its mouth to speak, it did not speak with one voice, but two. The proud and haughty voice of a man, and the silky voice of a woman oozing with elegance. Though changed, irrevocably changed, Angronius could tell who the daemon used to be. He knew the man, the architect of all his suffering, and hated him so intimately that his face was something he would never forget.
"Marsus Acraesius."
The thing tilted its head to the side, and grinned. Teeth sharp as fangs emerged from his smooth and balmy lips, "Angronius Thal'kyr."
Its eyes drifted from him to the Emperor, and very quickly the abomination's humor vanished to be replaced by a mixture of revulsion and terror. Twin chakrams appeared out of thin air and into the daemon's waiting hands. It planted its bare feet into the ashen ground firmly and readied itself for battle.
"Hello there." The Emperor greeted with a hint of wicked glee in the borders of his mouth. The fiery sword blazed ever hotter, eager to strike down this abnormality from existence.
Angronius had never faced a daemon before, or at the least never fought one in his life. He had chanced a glimpse of the other side in his dreams, and destroyed the three-headed hound of Mars. Even so, nothing could've prepared him for this. But as was his nature, Angronius didn't back down. He faced his fears head-on, with a bestial roar upon his lips and two grumbling chainaxes in his hands.
The custodes stood back and formed a wide ring around the three, guardian-spears and bolt-calivers ready to reduce the daemon into a bloody mess should it attempt to flee. The Emperor cast several wards to trap the thing before he and Angronius closed in from either side. Cut off from the Warp, and any route of escape, the daemon was forced to fight back. And when it did, it proved to be just the kind of challenge the Emperor needed for the demonstration he had in mind.
"Behold, my son!" He declared as he effortlessly parried and countered the abomination's attacks. "This was but one among many. Had I not saturated the city into oblivion, imagine the slaughter you and your legion would have to endure!"
Angronius' chainaxes bit off several chunks of blue meat from the daemon's thighs, and it mauled the beautiful flesh clear to the bones. The creature screamed obscenities and lashed out, spinning away through the air gracefully to avoid the whirling teeth of death. One of the chakrams sliced through the shaft of Gorefather, and the axehead fell.
Angered by the desecration of Oenomaus' final gift to him, Angronius held Gorechild with both hands and lunged at the dancing daemon. His chainaxe met the chakrams as Acraesius brought them up quickly to block what would've been a fatal blow. Gorechild's buzzing teeth rattled noisily against the pristine quicksilver blades, and the raw strength of the Primarch easily triumphed over the abomination's. The chakrams shattered into a hundred pieces, and nothing could stop the chainaxe's path to the daemon's astonished face.
The weapon chewed and chewed, spitting blood and pieces of black bone in all directions as he pushed it savagely through one end of the creature's skull to the other. Upon retrieving the grumbling chainaxe, Acraesius' head split in two. It fell to its knees and wobbled unsteadily as though still stubbornly clinging to life.
Angronius then struck him. Not once, not twice, and not even thrice. He butchered the false emperor's ascended form until the beautiful masterpiece that its foul patron so proudly shaped was ruined beyond any recognition.
Every strike bore all the hate, the malice and agony the gladiator king held in his heart for his adversary. For the death of Oenomaus, for his irrevocable transformation into a beast of a man, for the death of his war hound and of his best friend Rissio. But most of all, for nearly taking away the love of his life, Polgara.
When he had won, Angronius lifted his face to the sky and roared, declaring his victory for all the heavens to see. His voice was like that of a lion, and for miles around all who had ears heard his triumphant call.
After the glory of his long-awaited kill faded, he turned to the Emperor and met his expectant gaze. "It is done."
"Yes." The Emperor scoured the damnable remains of the creature with warpfire, "Indeed."
"He transformed himself into a daemon, or allied himself with a dark god." Angronius observed, still having trouble understanding what it was he had just fought and killed. "Truly, Reksia deserved only fire."
"Don't be foolish." The Emperor chided him, "There are no gods or daemons, Angronius. There is only the natural and the anomalous."
The gladiator king's brows furrowed in confusion, but he let the matter slide as he and his progenitor surveyed the destruction they had both wrought. "What now?"
"Now?" The Emperor tilted his head back and planted his sword upon the ground. The flames disappeared, leaving a great blade that did not glow from the supposed heat, but shimmered as though it had always remained cool. "Now I come to collect. I have fulfilled your greatest desire, my son. Your enemies have fallen, I have given you victory and the satisfaction of killing your arch-nemesis. It is time you fulfill your duty, take your place at my side as Primarch and lead your legion into the stars to reclaim all of mankind's lost worlds."
Angronius knew this was coming, and he naturally remained adamant. "Will I trade in the death of a tyrant, just so I would bend my neck to one?"
"A tyrant?" The Emperor laughed, bewildered by his stubborn will. "I am no tyrant, Angronius. I pity how this world has shaped your perspective. You do not know why I fight this crusade. If you did, you would've long since joined me as your brothers have."
"Do not lecture me on what I can and cannot see, Man-of-the-Stars!" Angronius pointed a threatening finger at him, "I know exactly what you are! A man with boundless ambition, whose heart is hollowed with greed! You conquer and reign over worlds, spilling innocent blood for the promise of power- just like Acraesius! I see right through you!"
"No, no, and no." The Emperor shook his head, eyes blazing white as he opened the veil between realities, so that he might open Angronius' eyes to the things that none but he could see. "You know nothing, king of slaves. But I'm going to show you."
Suddenly, Angronius was no longer on Nuceria. He was in the space within spaces, and felt as though his mind had been stretched across the cosmos. He could see, hear and feel everything. Everything that mankind has touched, every world it has conquered or settled in, he was there. The strain of such a revelation was so strong that Angronius felt like his soul would tear itself apart.
"Be calm." The Emperor said, placing his hand on the gladiator king's shoulder. His voice echoed through the Immaterium, and rang clear within Angronius' skull. "Tell me, what do you see?"
Irked, but willing to humor the man, Angronius peered through the realms and was greatly astonished by what he saw.
He saw hundreds- no, thousands- of worlds. All of them, held tightly in the tyrannical grip of xeno masters who ruled from great and awesome citadels, fixed upon the earth or floating in the skies above. Countless billions of human lives, slaves and reduced to mindless livestock, herded into great fields to be processed for all manner of unspeakable horrors. Their cruel masters delighted in their suffering, and the powerful psychic outcry that reverberated across the cosmos cut a wound in Angronius' heart.
All the suffering he and his people had endured paled in comparison to what all those wretched souls bore. Any form of resistance or rebellion was crushed within a fortnight. There was no inspiring legend to guide them, no Angronius to lead them. They, unlike the freedmen, had no hope.
Then, as sudden as he had gone, Angronius was brought back to the ashlands of Nuceria. Confused and wracked with guilt-ridden pity, the gladiator king whirled around and pushed the Emperor away from himself. "W-What did you do?"
"I showed you the truth." The Emperor replied, "Your will so easily falters with the mere glimpse into the suffering of those people from far-off worlds. Know that I see and hear them at every waking moment. Know that I feel their suffering, even when I sleep. This, Angronius, is why I fight to bring every world into compliance. I end the suffering of worlds, I bring liberation to the oppressed, I enlighten the benighted. I AM THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND."
Trembling still, Angronius faltered and fell to his knees. The collective emotions he had just felt weighed heavily on his soul. Any lesser man would break or go mad from what he'd just witnessed.
"You do not wish to conquer? Then I will not bring you as a conqueror. Become my liberator, free your fellow men from the shackles of xeno-enslavement. Bring order to chaos across the stars and herald the rise of a billion worlds in my name. This is what I ask of you."
Angronius lifted his face to the Emperor, tears of rage trickling down his scarred cheeks. He couldn't get the images out of his head, the curse of the Emperor's vision would haunt him for the rest of his days. He didn't immediately accept the monumental task at hand, he needed something from the Emperor first.
"Grant me thirty years." He said, "I will shape this world, and the worlds that swirl next to it. Give me my legion, that their loyalty shall be for me and me alone. And if I am to be your liberator, only I will choose my campaigns."
The Primarch was driving a hard bargain, but the Emperor expected nothing less. "I will give you ten years, Angronius."
"Thirty."
The Emperor's expression darkened, "Twenty."
Angronius did not waver, "Thirty."
His lips pulled into a tight thin line, then broke into a smile. Angronius was without a doubt the most difficult Primarch he had met, "Very well. Thirty years, then. No more, no less."
"Swear it, then."
"I am the Emperor of Mankind. My word is law, and I keep my promises. See to it that you keep yours."
At that did Angronius bow his head and swore allegiance to the Emperor and to the Imperium of Man.
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