Hey people, sorry to keep you all waiting but know that I haven't given up on this story. As a literally a newbie writer, I am trying my best to present a relatively pleasant and enntertaining to read work to this site's followers. Not to mention work, studies and home problems and other tasks that consume a huge part of my daily life. There is also the fact that I am planning to start work on other stories and projects. So with my somewhat sappy apology out of the way, I really wish to thank the people who followed and supported my story up until now, but a few comments would be appreciated, just so i know how things are going- is it good, is it bad, is it Matt Ward grade junk... Pls review your oppinions, it would be of great aid.
Now for the main event, enjoy. Oh and yeah, I do not own Warhammer or any charcters associated with Warhammer. All rights go to their respective owner Games Workshop(Who could do us a great favor by actually ADVANCING THE BLOODY STORYLINE). i only own my characters.
Chapter 4
Time was running out for Horus. Nihlus knew it. The combined strengths of the Emperor and the Primarch of the Blood Angels was too much for the Warmaster to handle. And as the champion of Chaos and supreme commander of all Traitor Legions, his death would be catastrophic for the Siege of Terra and crush all chances of victory over the Imperium.
Nihlus made a series of quick turns and dashes with speed considered impossible for a Space Marine. So fast that even his escort was soon lost behind him, trying desperately to catch up to the Soulreaper.
In just a matter of a few minutes he had managed to reach the familiar corridors of Horus's inner chambers. And as if almost on cue he was greeted by the sounds of fighting. Metal clashing against metal and trashing sounds showed that the battle was not yet lost. With renewed hope and fury the Chaos Space Marine dove inside the chamber only to see things that he would forever remember.
Sanguinius- battered on the floor, dead. The end of the Primarch of the Blood Angels had been swift and painful. That seemed to explain the sudden rage and bloodlust that these Loyalists began to show.
But not far off happened another duel. The Warmaster Horus Lupercal fought relentlessly against an opponent, clad in golden armor. Nihlus's stunned mind barely managed to process the picture before him, when realization hit him. That was none other than the Master of Mankind, the Anathema, the Immortal Emperor.
Immideately raising his Storm Bolter, ready to assist his Gene-Sire, Nihlus saw something that made his both hearts stop.
The Emperor's wrists had been cut, making him unable to hold a weapon. His armor showed numerous cracks and dents, mostly in the chest area and the Master of Mankind's rasp breathing evidenced broken rips, from which at least one had punctured the lungs. One of the sides of His face was horribly burned and one of the eyes was completely destroyed.
This described quickly and mildly the broken mess that the Emperor was. Almost nothing remained of the once glorious and beautiful warrior that had landed on Cthonia all those years ago, who proclaimed Horus as his lost son and showed the inhabitants of the feral mining world the might of the Adeptus Astartes of the XVI Legion. That very same warrior had not taken his eyes away from Nihlus, when he had completed the trials to become a Space Marine, the hard way, by not using his connection to the Primarch.
The only thing that showed the identity of the crushed warrior was the golden armor and the unburned part of his face. But above all, that he was still standing. The unbreakable will of the Emperor was ever present and would not be so easily stomped.
The duel finally ended with a gruesome end as the Warmaster lifted his father and with a maniacal laughter, brought Him down on his knee, crushing His spine and as a final injury, more for humiliation rather than effect, tore off his arm.
Horus finally looked around himself and saw his brave son standing at the chamber's entrance. He immideately recognized Nihlus.
"What are you doing here, Meridius? I thought I told you to destroy every loyalist that dwells on my ship. "
"Yes, Father, but as soon as I learned that Primarch Sanguinius and the Emperor had breached your inner sanctum I feared you wouldn't be able to hold them off."
"I see. You allowed foolishness to cloud your judgment." Horus spoke menacingly "Never underestimate my Powers, for I control Chaos itself my dear Son. Not even the Emperor managed to defeat me, much less my worthless Brothers."
Nihlus dared not look at the Warmaster, he had disobeyed his direct order and that rivaled treason. Horus' next word, spoken with less malice and somewhat approval however brought the Space Marine out of his state.
"However you acted on instinct, coming to my aid even if it costed your life. Therefore I am willing to overlook this act of disobedience and commend you for your bravery. Besides now you bare witness to my full power. With it I was able to conquer my cowardly Father and soon I shall lead a conquest against the Dark Gods themselves, those who foolishly believed me to be their pawn."
Suddenly another voice was heard. Soft, yet deep, full of power yet soothing, perfect in all aspects, but also familiar.
"How foolish you are, my lost son. How can you believe you are in control over the Dark Gods, when the shackles of Chaos have entrapped you so, that you no longer recognize friend from foe. You slaughtered your own Sons without remorse, killed your closest brother, who had the most faith in you and finally struck me down as well. These were all your doings, but who made you commit them. Who filled your mind with lies and drove you down the path of treachery? Who? True power is not achieved by those who have the most strength, but those with tongues of silver, who convince others to do their bidding. And you my beloved son, who have you been listening to, who's bidding have you followed?"
Confused, Nihlus looked around for the source of the voice, however there was nothing. Horus however knew exactly well to whom did the voice belong to.
"And who to follow, Father? You? Who hid behind the walls of your Palace, cowering. You have no courage, no honor and you only knew how to hide secrets from us. Those who called themselves your Sons you trusted the least and because of this they were put in harms way."
Nihlus suddenly recognize the source of the mysterious voice. It was none other than the Emperor. Even now he still lived, barely, despite being crushed beyond recognition.
"Indeed I was wrong, I do not claim to be without mistakes, but understand that what I did was in order to protect you and your brothers and all of humanity. I never wished to discriminate you or abandon you, my only desire was to..."
In that moment another man entered the Warmaster's chamber. It was a Space Marine Terminator of the Imperial Fists. In a matter of moments the Loyalist took in the sight before him- a lone Adeptus Astartes, standing aside, the Arch-Traitor Horus and finally the broken body of the Emperor, lying on the ground, dying.
"Yes, yes, come Son of Dorn. See for yourself the power of your Emperor." Horus' maniacal laughter filled the chamber. "This shall be the fate of all who stand against me. Perhaps you would like to reconsider your allegiances."
The Terminator said nothing, but quickly ran to the chamber's center and stood between the wounded Master of Mankind and the Chaos empowered Warmaster.
This final act of defiance would be his last.
"So you have chosen death then." Horus spoke and, with but an annoyed flick of his wrist, sent out a psychic blast, so powerful that it incinerated the poor soul, leaving nothing in it's wake.
Amused by this pathetic act of defiance, Horus began to laugh once more, confident in his victory.
Suddenly the whole chamber started to tremble as the very air began to pulsate with violently rocking electricity. Horus, confused looked around for the source, but it was Nihlus who saw it.
The Emperor's only eye was closed, a golden tear running down His maimed face, now crunched up in focus. Realising what was happening, Nihlus turned towards his Gene-Sire, trying to warn him, but it was already too late.
A powerful psychic bolt launched itself from the Emperor, piercing Horus's heart, making him shout in pain and fall on his knees. Dark energies began to seep through his body, leaving him. The control of the Dark Gods over their pawn was broken. Their servant had failed and now they withdrew from him.
"No." Nihlus whispered, shocked as he ran at his Gene-Sire's side. With great relief he saw Horus rise, albeit slowly, but breathing heavily.
"My Lord, you need medical attention." Nihlus began, but as Horus turned his confused gaseous towards him, he stopped. The look in his eyes was different. It was no longer of triumph and determination, but shock, sadness and horror. Horus continued to look around, his gaze becoming more horrified and guilty with every second, until it reached the broken form of the Emperor.
"No, what have I done? What did Lorgar do to me? My rebellion, all this was true."
Nihlus was left speechless for a moment. Why did Horus behave like he had just awoken from a dream and why had he mentioned the name of the Primarch of the Word Bearers. Nihlus decided it didn't matter. His Gene-Sire was wounded and getting him to safety was his top priority. He tried to once again pull Horus away, but the Warmaster was motionless, as if attached to the floor.
"You too, Nihlus? Have I too corrupted your soul?"
"You are unwell, my Lord. I must get you out of here, the fight against the False Emperor will have to be finished another day."
"No, Nihlus, it will finish today. I committed the ultimate treason to an Empire and the greatest betrayal towards a father, brothers and sons . For this I deserve no pardon, no forgiveness."
Horus turned towards the Emperor and pleaded with tears in his eyes.
"Father, you know what must be done. The Dark Gods corrupted me once, they can do so again. Should this happen, you know nothing would be able to stop me. Destroy me now, before it is too late, but, please, hear my last wish. Watch over Nihlus, his body may be tainted, but his soul and heart are still pure. There is hope for him."
Turning towards his Lord-commander, the Warmaster continued :
"Nihlus, my beloved son, you and I grew up together, you placed your life on the line many times for me. Now I shall return the favor. I release you and all those, who choose to follow you, from any oaths and pacts with the Chaos Gods. May you be free from this taint and never such bonds to forged again. May you be blind to their sight and immune to their touch. May you be free. Now, leave me, travel to the Battle-barge Breakspear, piloted by Captain Dialon. Tell him I have ordered to initiate the Arc protocol. The password is "God-emperor". (what is the last possible thing that the Traitors and Loyalists alike would think of a possible password, if they had to guess). Go, leave this nightmare and free yourself. Do not waste my final gift. Use it wisely, for the better of the Imperium, for when the time comes you may be it's last hope."
Nihlus was struck speechless, this time for real, he simply stared at Horus bluntly.
The Warmaster gazed upon his son one last time, then turned towards the Emperor again.
"It is now or never, Father."
The Emperor again closed his eye, focusing on another psychic bolt, but just before he fired, he heard his beloved son's last words:
"Father, please,... forgive me."
Another bright flash of light streamed towards the Warmaster, impacting him full force.
Nihlus found himself thrown away from the force of the blast, even losing consciousness for a moment. When he rose up again, he once more rushed at his Gene-Sire's side, who had fallen, his back turned towards him. Quickly rolling the giant body of his Father towards him, Nihlus was met this time by a lifeless look. The Warmaster's eyes gazed unseeing at the sealing, empty and devoid of life.
Horus Lupercal was dead. And as much as Nihlus wanted to deny it, the sense of pain, sadness, emptiness and agony, that had flooded his mind, when the stroke fell, only confirmed it.
"No." Nihlus whispered, broken and ruined, as he fell on his knees "No, this cannot be."
