Author's Note: This is the final battle between the Emperor and Horus. Please tell me what you think, the more comments I get the better I can make future versions. My thanks.
Ascension
The Emperor faced his Warmaster Primarch across the bare metal deck plate of the bridge of the desolator class battleship Ferocity of Horus. Behind his gene-son was the body of Sanguinius, his body a mass of blood and exploded burnt flesh. The Primarch's head was stuck on a pike on Horus' command throne.
Sadness filled the Emperor's face as he stood motionless facing the man who was once his most trusted son. The bodies of Adepts from the Sons of Horus whose corrupted minds had been destroyed when the Emperor entered the bridge lay scattered on the cold floor.
The Emperor's golden armour shone with a godly glow that sent tendrils of light penetrating the darkest corners of the bridge. His head was in the centre of a halo of streaming glory. A great golden Aquila was splayed across his meter wide chest and massive symbols of purity and holy purpose adorned his shoulder guards. In his right hand he held a broad double-edged force sword taller than a man. The blade shone with psychic energy that rippled across the material realm like a sheet of water.
He spoke, his voice mighty and great, but filled with a sadness and disappointment, "Why my son? What has Chaos to offer you? Why this cursed path? Why?"
Horus was clad in dark armour that seemed to absorb light in the same way that the Emperor's gave it out, a great halo, corrupted into the form of the eight pointed star of Chaos, surrounded his head. His armour was hung with chains holding skulls and icons of corruption and evil symbols flashed on the surface of his armour. On the ends of his arms were two massive power claws.
"Do you not know old man?" he snarled, charging forwards and striking at the Emperor's head with his power claw. The metal talons bounced off the psychic field that resonated the Emperor without denting it in the slightest.
"Come my son, come back to the light. You cannot defeat me, and you cannot master Chaos," said the Emperor, pointing his sword at his traitorous son.
"No man tells me what I can and cannot do!" screamed Horus, slashing forward with a blow that the Emperor calmly stepped back from. The Emperor brought his sword up to vertical then down to his side in a sweeping salute.
With a final sad sigh the Emperor said his last words to his Primarch, "Very well my son."
He struck forwards in a hyaline motion that brought the tip of his sword punching through the psychic defences of his former Warmaster and crashing into his chest plate. The corrupt Primarch rallied his psychic shielding in time to stop the blade from touching his skin.
Horus trapped the Emperor's sword between the first and second talons on his lightning claw and struck up with the other into the Emperor's stomach his blow fuelled by all his Chaotic malice.
Hot red blood flowed from the wound coating the power claw and gauntlet. The Emperor ignored the wound and swung round his sword, snapping the first talon on Horus' claw. He thrust the eagle head mounted on the pommel of his sword up into Horus' left eye. Blood ran down Horus' face and into his fanged mouth.
He screamed in rage, his voice twisted and daemonic and was attacking again. The two lightning claws scythed through the air faster than the eye could follow, mostly smashing off the Emperor's psychic protection.
The Emperor stepped back from the storm of crackling weaponry, lifting his hand and sending a stream of white-hot lightning erupting from his palm. Scribes would later record this as the first and most powerful use of the Storm of the Emperor's Wrath in combat.
The traitorous Primarch drew up his gauntlets in defence as the bolts of divine anger blasted through his psychic defences. The energy scorched the surface of the metal black but Horus charged forwards, invoking the power of Khorne to power his blow.
He struck out with his claw in an attack that caught the Emperor's arm as he sidestepped. His father's blood coated Horus' armour as he struck a second blow that the Emperor blocked with his force sword. Paying no heed to his wounds the Emperor lifted his sword high and swung it down, the psychic attack that ran along the blade cracked the shoulder pad of his gene-son's Chaos Terminator Armour.
Horus turned slowly, in the way you might expect a mountain to move, the Emperor's proud gaze fell upon his eyes. He lifted them up to his creator and they blazed with the arcane power of Tzeench.
Horus charged once more, breathing flames and followed by a rush of daemons. The Emperor Stood firm, the flames dissolved around him, burning out only the psychic wards on his armour. Claws and axes battered harmlessly off his armour and psychic warding. When his counterattack came the daemons cowered away from him, afraid of his presence. Horus did no such thing.
The corrupted Primarch stood his ground, lightning claws raised in defence. The Emperor swooped forward, bringing his sword up from his left at Horus' chest. The former Warmaster caught the sword between two of his talons and punched out with the other claw at the Emperor's gut. The Emperor placed his left hand on his enemy's head before the blow reached his psychic defence. Horus screamed in torment at the pain of his father's pure touch.
He backed away, shouting to his blasphemous Gods to relieve his torment. Of course Slaneesh and Nurgle chose that very moment to show their newest and greatest champion that they were servants to no mere mortal. Horus' pain was increased ten fold and the skin where his father's hand had made contact began to rot.
Horus turned his anger at the Ruinous Powers onto his father and began to attack again with new ferocity greater than that of a Bloodthirster. He struck again and again desperation, ferocity, jealousy and hatred driving him forward, he would not stop until either he or the father he had once worshipped as a God was dead.
Though the Emperor blocked every blow his own counter thrust were becoming weaker and less frequent.
Soon he was being driven back, faster and faster as victory glowed in Horus' eyes. The Emperor saw it and stepped backwards one final time, determining to retreat no more. His foot caught on the body of Sanguinius and her fell backwards, his sword flew from his hand and it seemed that the galaxy was to be damned as Horus slowly came forward, calling upon the full power of Tzeench to hold his one time master on the floor, "Now my father, it ends." He spoke the words with relish. He lowered his psychic defences and called upon Khorne, "Blood God give me strength."
He raised his lightning claw above the Emperor's head and prepared to strike down, his tongue flickering over his lips in anticipation of the day when he would be the most powerful mortal in the galaxy. Held to the floor by a godly magic force the Emperor poured all of his psychic energy into a single attack. He struck out at the Chaos God Tzeench, throwing the sacrilegious deity and leaving him cowering in the void. The Chaos God ceased to pin the Emperor to the floor and the he smashed upwards, landing his fist on Horus' face in a blow that would have punched through the armour of a land raider with ease.
The shocked Primarch was thrown away and landed on his back as the Emperor psychically retrieved his sword.
He advanced on his son, sword at his side.
Suddenly Horus lunged with his lightning claw, the blow crunched through the purity seal at the centre of the eagle on the Emperor's breastplate and coming out of the other side of the Emperor's armour slick with blood.
The Emperor looked down sadly and then gathered together all the prayers of the people of millions of worlds.
Then he struck the final blow.
Author's Note: So, as I said, review. Perhaps it needs to be longer? Maybe you want more blood? Tell me, I'll make it better over time.
RegisSantia