The Lost Primarchs: Spartan

(A/N: Hey Everyone! I've decided to re-do The Lost Primarchs: Spartan! Bear in mind, this is a rewrite. I do plan on one or two sequels for this story. I am sorry the last one got deleted before it was finished... along with a Displaced Knight. However, I do promise that i will do my best to finish this. Besides: I believe I owe Michael and his brother a story, don't I? :)

Chapter 1

I've gone by many names over the millennia, though I now forget them all thanks to a battle that costed me my life in this plane of existence and my mind being fragmented. For ten thousand years, I have sat on this Golden Throne, whereas it was supposed to have been Magnus the Red, my arcane son, who should be sitting here... or rather, we may or may not would have had shifts sitting in the bloody thing. I built it as both a life support and a throne for ruling my Imperium as I extended my Astronimican, my psychic Light to guide the navigators of Imperial ships through the dimension known as the Warp. The same Warp that the four entities that call themselves 'God' call home along with their demonic minions.

I was not always like this: a 'Corpse-Emperor', a 'Corpse-God' as my traitorous sons now call me. I have always been the true Emperor... but in hindsight, I admit, I have made mistakes as I now seek to aid and protect mankind as best as I can, though I know for a fact that my life support is failing with the Throne having irreparable damage from a long time of service... should've thought of that contingency plan a lot earlier before I did the Great Crusade.

In the past, the very distant past, I was once a man, like you. I cannot remember everything, sadly... only pieces. I remember being there during the Dark Age of Technology, when science was worshipped as a god. I had been hiding in the shadows, fighting a secret war against Chaos, yes- that is the name of the faction of the four entities: the Four Chaos 'Gods'... more like aspects of something else.

I, and my servants that now lie dead and unremembered save to me, fought them over the countless centuries. When the Age of Strife happened, when the galaxy suffered a warp storm the likes of which had never been seen before, as the psykers of those days (save myself) all became insane and gateways to insanity and depravity, the nation that Mankind had known collapsed in bloody and evil ruin.

I remember seeing it in the skies above Earth as I felt it in my head. Later, I realized what had happened as soon as I met the Eldar later on during a private meeting: the Eldar that I knew then had destroyed themselves through complete and utter depraved pleasures, giving birth to the thing that consumed almost all of their souls when it was born. The death-scream had killed the psykers of every race in the galaxy. The Eldar had suffered as much as us I believe, or one of us suffered more. I am obliged to say it was humanity that got the short end of the stick. The Eldar think very differently.

As for certain worlds that were primitive, they killed their psykers, a dreadful fate. I cannot say as to their fate in the Warp as their souls returned to it. It is suffice to say that one should hope that they remain safe until either reborn, if one believes it or not... then again, the truth is very different from what one wishes and ought to be the same as everywhere.

I decided to become the Emperor and began a war of conquest across old Earth, or in the 31st millenium: Terra. The name changed over the years alongside other worlds's nomenclatures.

I created the prototypes of the Space Marines, or Legionnes/Adeptus Astartes: the Thunder Warriors. They fought my war across the world. When the Wars of Unification were over, I incorporated the Thunder Warriors into their successors. I created twenty legions of them... but they were not led by mere Space Marines, no. I created their Primogenitors... their 'Primarchs'.

The Dark Powers knew I had been working on them: twenty super-human warriors, leaders, and statesmen that would lead my legions and govern my Imperium alongside the now-defunct Imperial Senate. Each gene-seed was created from my own DNA, but greatly engineered and enhanced. I admit, I used powers from the Warp to make them charismatic. I cannot admit to be perfect as I am a man, powerful, yes; but a man nonetheless.

However, tragedy struck when the dark powers took them away. Each pod was sent to a certain world that raised it. Each Primarch that I found soon conquered their birth-world... save three: Angron and the two that I have never discovered.

I rediscovered them, the most happiest times of my life save when I denied Angron his right to die alongside his brothers... when I should have aided him in battle myself ( a much better solution).

I gave each son their own legions, tailored to to their genetics and style of warfare. There were only two legions that were left over as I never did find the two Primarchs: II and XI. Not even after Horus betrayed me along with those who followed him did I find them. I don't think Horus ever found them either or I would've seen them in battle myself.

We fought a great and terrible war that lasted for years. Worlds were destroyed, fates were changed... and our reach for peace had ended... forever, perhaps.

When the great battle occurred, I hesitated to make a decision, believing I could save my son... Horus. I didn't believe it even when I saw my angelic son, Sanguinius, on the floor, his body broken and lifeless with his sword broken. I had felt his sons' Black Rage be born when he died. A fate that shall haunt them alongside their other secrets forever. Then, I saw Trooper Persson die in front of me and then and there I knew what I had to do as I was wounded as I tried to reason with him.

I then fought with all my strength, using my last vestige of power to annihilate my son's soul from existence to prevent him from being reborn as a Champion for Chaos. At the very last moment of his existence, he realized what he had done, but it was too late. I couldn't save him... nor could I save Magnus, Angron, Perturabo, Lorgar, Alpharius Omegon (the twin Primarchs), and Konrad... whose warnings I should have listened to when he was still on my side.

Now, here I sit, protecting mankind from the full weight of Chaos. Every instant a painful and more than excruciating agony. If I had a text-to-speech device, it would still hurt to even press the buttons. I cannot help but wonder about my other sons as my power and mind has been fragmented.

Fragments of my power and mind most likely still lie adrift... but I can and have sensed the birth of these fragments in physical forms. I can only hope that they find, if possible, the fates of my lost sons.

Recently, as I sense the Great Rift be born as Cadia itself finds itself besieged again, I see visions of two men far away from each other. One whose name I shall say later... but the other... is one whose name and titles echoes throughout the warp amongst others.

Michael Soaring Hawk, Michael-002, The Soaring War Hawk, the Thunder Warrior, the Stormcaller, Spartan-002, and of course: Primarch of the Second Legion.