Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 473 Blind Throne
"The Word Bearers are here," said Fusistaka, staring into the space of the asteroid belt ahead, trying to discern whether there is a part that is still moving by observing the trajectory of the debris. "The dead part of the Word Bearers is here."

Hathor Matt nodded, acknowledging what Fusistaka said, and the pre-set psychic spell glowed faintly in the scroll in his hand. This was a little trick he had done in order to deal with Magnus's limit on the total amount of psychic energy per cycle - to imprint some power that was not needed in normal times into the storage device in advance, and then release it when necessary.

Magnus reluctantly allowed them to use the techniques they had developed, and studied with them how to increase the stability of the scroll.

"This is a battle," he said, sensing the ether floating in the air. This happened not too long ago. "A ..."

He paused, doubting his conclusion.

"A civil war," Ahriman said, his voice dry. "A civil war among the Word Bearers... just before they entered the vicinity of Terra, some final quarrels..."

He closed his eyes and reorganized his words. "Due to some unknown contradiction, the Word Bearers carried out a sectarian curse and excommunication near Terra. It is conceivable that after this process was completed, Lorgar Aurelion led the remaining Word Bearers to continue into the range of Terra... I think that's it."

Fusistaka exhaled. "Surprising." He shook his head.

"So," Ancuenan said, standing guard at the door a short distance away, with his notebook, "are we going to continue on to Terra? I don't know, I suddenly - I think going back might not be a good idea. If the Emperor is allowing the Word Bearers to fight before his eyes..."

"With all due respect, either the Emperor's opinion of the Word Bearers has undergone some change..."

"Will the Lord of Mankind retract his judgment against Lorgar Aurelion at the Council of Nikea? No, I cannot imagine that."

"Listen, either this is true, or the Emperor's sight no longer sees the strife that is so close to him. Which means - perhaps, I do not know, but I fear that the voice of Terra has become the language of the Word Bearers..."

“So where do we go?” Ahriman asked, with some uneasy guesswork in his mind and a bitter taste throbbing on his tongue.

"What options do we have in this darkness?" he continued, countless thoughts churning in his mind, countless worries and frustrations intertwined into a chaotic storm.

The situation on Terra was not good, he could almost conclude. And if it was related to the Emperor, it was no longer a problem that a single Space Marine could solve... Even Magnus was gone.

"Besides Terra and the Throne World, we can no longer find any other landmarks. And if the Throne World is no longer the same as it used to be, our father might have been buried here because of an unknown accident..."

The second half of his words disappeared in the tide of Star Language, and the torrent of words surged into the minds of the Thousand Dust Suns like a carved dark wave. Even though the loud voice was not harsh, it was strong enough. Ankuenan screamed in a low voice, covered his ears, and dropped the notebook in his hand to the ground.

The voice was peaceful and tranquil, and even had a certain kind of proud nobility in it.

+Terra welcomes you, the Thousand Dust Suns,+ the voice said with a smile,+ if you are willing to obey the light again, your father's mistakes will not continue on you. Thank the Emperor for his mercy, Azak Ahriman. +
Fault? What is he talking about? What slanderous accusations is he spouting?

Lorgar Aurelion.

Ahriman clutched the gilded grille of the porthole beside him, his mind screaming silently at the impact of the star language itself, but that was all.

Perhaps the Truth Bearer really wanted to give them a shock when they first arrived, to make their will waver in horror - he was now more and more certain of this, but the effect of his pretentious attempt was limited to this little, dull torture.

If he still looked down upon Magnus's proudest students.

His fingers trembled as he grasped the edge of the window, as if grasping the dark chasm that separated the Radiance from the Throne World. He tilted his head and glanced at his brothers. Brightfeather nodded vigorously at him, followed by Falcon.

In the eyes of his brothers, Ahriman saw his own reflection, a silhouette standing by the window.

A rare commanding tone rose in Azak Ahriman's blue, jewel-like eyes. His tone changed.

"If the throne world is no longer the same as it was before... it means we are one step closer to the truth."

"After all, as scholars and sons of my father, we must seek the truth about his death," he said softly, "how the throne he dedicated his life to became the place where his existence ended. I believe you can feel it, brothers, the voice of truth calling to us in our hearts.

"I said before that we had nowhere to go but to Terra. Perhaps, but we were not without a place to go. We could have left the way we came, we could have scattered where we were, turning into a thousand scattered grains of dust, waiting for the day when the wind would bring us back together. Each of us is a master of the psychic energy, and only the Emperor and Fate can bind us.

"And yet we follow Magnus here, because we know the truth awaits here—it awaits us, with malicious intent, but here we are."

"Azak..." Hathor Mat's handsome face shone with a luster as bright as wings under the sun. "I remember that your father severely criticized you for something you said. You said that for the sake of truth, you would rather sink and float in the vast waves."

"Ah, it is true. I don't mind if someone leaves here, Matt, but could it be you?"

"Have you forgotten that I stood by you and defended your point of view, and we ended up working together as librarians - literal librarians - of the Great Library of Tizca for a month?"

Ahriman smiled, and his thoughts surged toward the source of Lorgar Aurelion's voice, toward the throne world of Terra.

+Of course, Primarch,+ Ahriman shouted back,+We also returned to Terra with the heart of pursuing the truth.+
-

Lorgar Aurelion knelt before the altar of the chapel, his body covered with whip marks, his lips cracked from thirst, and cracks all over his body that ooze blood and fire.

As he responded to the echo of the Chief Librarian of the Thousand Dust Sun, the psyker that carried his words and the divine arts of the God-Emperor shattered beside him, turning into black dust and piling up in a quagmire of dust. There was no wind here, but the faint howling of the dead still blew around the bearer of the truth, whispering and muttering in pain.

+Return, then, to the Lord, His children. +
He sensed the hostility in Ahriman's words, and knew that Ahriman disliked him, and even doubted his loyalty and sincerity. Azak Ahriman had never liked the Word Bearers, no, the entire Fifteenth Legion was like this, immersed in their stubborn arrogance and rigidity, claiming to be the sun but never seeing the real light.

But Aurelion did not care, and was determined to treat them with a broad heart of love and welcome them back to His light. They had not yet seen the God-Emperor, so they were hesitant. Aurelion did not like to forgive these unfaithful people easily, but the God-Emperor enlightened him...

+Kill without limit... only to... nourish my enemy... my son... my son. +
Ah, His warning was delivered to his heart when he stepped into the Solar Star Region.

He recalled the moment a few days ago when he had not yet issued the order to expel the internal members, and recalled his feelings and emotions at that time.

It was as if this was some kind of condemnation for his sacrifice, and for a moment Aurelion felt as if he was falling into an icy cave, almost reliving the humiliation he had suffered at the meeting of Nikea.

Perturabo... He issued a false edict in the name of the God-Emperor, and now he is hiding in the dark at one end of the Milky Way, no doubt with some corrupt plot, avoiding the eyes and ears of the people. Little does he know that the God-Emperor has already arrived at the throne of darkness, but it is not time for Him to enter the world yet.

However, the God-Emperor immediately said something to him, which immediately calmed Aurelion's heart.

He said: + But the one who ... rebels ... will be punished ... and the one who disobeys ... will be punished ... and will not be spared ... +
His words shattered into a thousand scattered fragments, as if He was still familiar with the world before His eyes, still sensing the coming He was finally about to receive. But every word He spoke sounded so cold, as if His past regret and kindness had all dissolved in the prelude to the day of reckoning.

Lorgar opened his eyes and looked into the distance.

He saw it. He saw Terra wearing a black crown, the lightning of destruction roaring and swirling around the ancient planet, and occasionally a dazzling flash of lightning flew out from the howling Terra, as an extension of the darkness, piercing directly into the surrounding terrified colorful ocean... The darkness was wrapped with a faint light, and that bright light was like a small lantern in a storm, shaking and resisting extinguishing... What a foolish and blasphemous resistance...

He saw it. He saw that Terra was as peaceful as usual. The dissipation of the subspace storm allowed the surrounding small-scale navigation to gradually resume. The shapes of the tiny spaceships were blurred, and they were slightly reflective and lingering around the steel-like surface of Terra. The large area of ​​golden buildings of the Holy Palace were clearly visible even in orbit. The small-scale damage seemed to make the Terra Palace covered with a layer of light fog, but the main body was still bright.

He stood up, his will willingly reaching deeper into the darkness of Terra, accepting what the God-Emperor had given him.

For a moment, his breathing stopped, and his mind was filled with thousands of images, until time and place lost their meaning, and all physical laws and rules of reality were forgotten. He heard the voice of a great being, heard the new hatred, heard the echo of unformed words and thousands of fragments of will... All of this suddenly poured into Lorgar Aurelion in a flash of black light.

The cracks in his cracked armor loosened further, and black blood and fire poured out from his dry skin.

He heard new ideals, a new world, and a new city of God after destruction... The darkness was still expanding, with the smell of acid and sulfur, as well as the shadow at the end of the charcoal fire, the shriek of a weapon being swung, the series of clicks when the trigger was pulled, and the boiling steam generated by multiple lasers in the rain.

Slowly, he felt a distant, huge and terrifying gaze, looking at him across light years. He wanted to scream, but the air in his lungs was filled with blood, and he became a remnant of a soul locked in a charred shell, a container for the echoes of death and destruction.

He fell to the ground and turned into ash, into burnt coal, into dust in a windless land. His blood flowed from his eyes, ears, and mouth, and then he saw.

He saw the blind God-Emperor.

-

"Please come in, Lord Sejanus." Amon's voice came, and he added an extra honorific.

Hastur Sejanus and two of his entourage entered the gleaming Great Pyramid of Photep at Tizca and waited in the entrance hall, where a masked soldier from the Fifteenth Legion led him to the reception room.

This was not his first visit to Tizca. In peaceful times, it was not uncommon for legions to invite each other - if they could find a suitable free time. He noticed a row of winemaking collections on the library shelf, and even in such a pressing situation, he couldn't help but flash back a memory.

That was Azak's masterpiece.

Winemaking… they hadn’t discussed it in a while.

Sejanus threw off his cloak and sat down in front of a wide low table, observing the surroundings with his peripheral vision. There were warriors from different schools, mortal servants and scholars, two memoirists, and a normal setting, with no space to hide conventional weapons, or force field generators that had no reason to appear...

At least it was better than outside the city. He smiled to himself in distress to ease the tension in his heart.

Although it was difficult to detect, Tizca's psychic shield had been deployed, and Sejanus suspected that those stationed in the suburbs outside the city were not ordinary residents.

These subtle signs even made him doubt for a moment that he should not have come to the surface with wishes, but should have dropped precise laser strikes and thermonuclear weapons on Prospero's neat and bright buildings, lush forests and blue bay from orbit.

"I am visiting Prospero in the name of Gene-Father Horus Lupercal. Master Amon, do I still have no right to talk to Master Magnus?" He lowered his voice and said, "What we are going to discuss is the Emperor's decision on the fate of the Thousand Dust Suns. I come here with sincerity."

"We also allowed the Luna Wolves' fleet to approach Prospero's orbit with good intentions. In fact, we do not understand why our fate will be judged, nor do we understand the meaning of "punishment" in your words. Your arrival makes us angry, and I even have to appease the citizens of Tizca so that they will not be angry about your slander."

Amon said, without his helmet, his hair and skin faded like parchment after being exposed to the sun.

"You can make excuses, but it is pointless to pretend that nothing happened. The Emperor would not casually make a judgment against an entire legion. You should know that Primarch Magnus is a son deeply loved by the Emperor. If the impact is not far-reaching and the fault is serious, the Emperor will not easily order the action against his beloved Primarch.

"We are willing to help you. In the process, I still hope to meet your Primarch, Amon. Even if you really stay out of it, the unparalleled psychic master of the Empire cannot be completely unaware of the matter."

"You won't see him anymore, Cyjanus," Amon spoke up, answering quietly.

"What does this mean?" Cyjanus asked patiently, listening to the subtle sounds in the quiet surroundings. Ahriman had told him that in this state, his etheric light was like the hard and restrained half of the moon.

"This means that Magnus has left us," said the former Primarch's attendant. "This means that the Primarch you want to punish is gone. What else do you want to take from the panicked and confused Prospero, from the Tizcans who are crying over the departure of their lord and know nothing about the future and the past? What do you want, Luna Wolves? We have nothing to offer."

(End of this chapter)