Chapter 1

The Shadow of the Emperor exited Warp Space in the Istvaan System. On the bridge, Corvus Corax looked over the planets that populated this planet. In 10,000 years, hardly any of them had been repopulated. It made sense to him why. This system had been tainted by Chaos. It was tainted by the sins of the past and the footsteps of the Traitors. "And now I am returning to it. A strange irony." He sighed and looked down at his chosen equerry, Kadus. Kadus was a longtime veteran of the wars and was personally recommended by Chapter Master Kayvaan Shrike for the mission. Given that they had served together for years, Corvus took him at his word. Shrike had wanted to rendezvous with him for the mission, but Corax had insisted Shrike remain on Deliverance. If anything were to happen to him, no matter how little a chance there was of that, Shrike would take his place in the Higher Government. It was what was needed.

"Have you ever been to Istvaan V, Captain Kadus," Corax asked.

Kadus shook his head. "No, my Primarch. Istvaan V has been marked as forbidden to all."

Corvus smiled. "Well, we are lucky that we are above such laws in times such as this, Kadus. Sometimes it is best that we bend the rules for the greater good. Even if that greater good is to pay respect to fallen brothers and sons."

Kadus wasn't sure that made logical sense, but he understood. This was important to the Primarch. He had lost 77,000 Raven Guards thanks to the treachery of the Iron Warriors, the Word Bearers, The Night Lords, and the Alpha Legion and the other confirmed Traitor Legions. For nearly 100 days, they had fought their way through the Traitors as they fought to survive. They had survived only to be infiltrated by the Alpha Legion. The war had cost the Salamanders, the Raven Guard, and the Iron Hands dearly. That they were at the strength they were now was a miracle and he thanked the God-Emperor every day for that.

Captain Ka'no approached and stood beside Corax, his helmet maglocked to his hip. He had volunteered to be the representative of the Salamanders. Corax liked Ka'no well enough, despite his fervent belief in the Primarchs as a second coming of sorts. He didn't like the attention he was getting by the masses. He couldn't stand the idea that everything he worked for, a Galaxy based on logic and secular reasoning, had been for nothing. The Primaris Marines created by Belasarius Cawl at least understood that the Primarchs and the Emperors were not Gods. That all the Adeptus Ministorum did was perpetuate more and more suffering in the people. He despised the Adepta Sororitas as a bunch of brainwashed fanatics. He detested the constant sermonizing on the streets of Kiavahr and that he could not go anywhere without being bombarded by prayer scrolls and pleas for aid.

"They have to see what falsehoods they are being preached," he had told Roboute. "You should have ended this as soon as you took the throne on Terra." But Roboute had explained his reasoning. The Ministorum had grown too strong in the 10,000 years since it had been created. They had their own armies and followers in the Council of Terra. Had Roboute shut it down, it would have lead to Civil War.

"You should know more than anyone that we have to pick and choose our battles, Corvus. We need them now more than ever. The Imperium needs to be united if it is going to survive this new millennium."

And what annoyed Corax was that Roboute was right. He liked Guilliman, but it always annoyed him that somehow, he always managed to find a way to be right. Even with the flaws in the Codex Astartes, he still found a way to make it sound logical. Roboute was perfect at it. And it annoyed Corvus. He smiled. "And that's why you're my brother, Roboute. So perfect that it's your biggest flaw."

Kadus cocked his head. "My Primarch?" He found smiling from the Primarch to be... odd. It seemed unlike him.

Corax shook his head. "It's nothing, Kadus. Just thinking about a conversation I had with my brother."

Another Space Marine entered the Bridge. This one an Iron Hand. His name was Markus Ferod. His modifications were moderate compared to his brother Marines, but there was still the zeal of the creed of the Iron Hands. Still he was manageable and followed orders well enough. He wondered how well Markus was going to take being on the planet his Genefather had died.

"Captain Markus Ferod reporting, Primarch Corax," he said with a salute. His voice was deep and mechanical as he spoke through a face plate that may as well have been a vox emitter. His eyes reminded him of Ferrus. Steel gray that reflected images back at whoever was looking into them. He crossed his arms and joined the three transhumans as they looked upon the approaching planet.

"That is where it happened, my Lord? That is where my genefather died?"

Corax nodded. "Istvaan V." It was a gray world of rock and mountains. Hardly any plant life grew there. Despite being breathable to normal humans, it was all but dead. And even from space they could see the Urgall Depression, the site of the massacre.

"What was it like," Markus asked. "The Massacre, I mean."

"A massacre," Corax replied. "A betrayal. We had been making ground against the World Eaters and Death Guard. It had been going well. But then the first blow was struck. Perturabo fired upon us as we regrouped. Most of our forces were wiped out in the initial bombardment. Vulkan tried to rally as many as he could, but was overwhelmed and captured by Curze. Your father..." He paused, remembering the sight of Ferrus Manus' decapitation at the hands of Fulgrim. "He died at the hands of the brother he loved the most."

"I see." It was all Markus said. Corax wondered how much of his emotions really had been stripped away in the process of augmenting his body if the true story of his genefather's death did nothing to really affect him.

"The Iron Hands have fallen so far," he thought. "They may as well join the Mechanicum for how apart they've become from humanity." He gave another inward laugh as he realized what he had just said. Who was he to judge something apart from humanity? Who was he to judge?

As he looked back at the screen, he signaled the shipmaster, a tall woman in a dark uniform with gaunt features and her hair pulled back, to approach. She saluted, her eyes forward, not meeting the Primarch's. "Shipmaster Katanya Somanova, have the Thunderhawks prepared for departure. The Companies will be joining me on the surface. And have the... Ministorum Priest meet us in the hanger."

Somanova nodded. "At once, my Lord." She turned away to vox the Priest that had been requested by Guilliman to accompany Corvus on the so-called Pilgrimage to the Istvaan System. Corvus turned to the three Captains who saluted and departed without a word to inform their men. "My Lord, the Priest, Father Ruban, has requested to speak with you before departure. He says it's a matter of great import."

"It always is with people like him. Probably wants to prostrate himself before me, beg for my blessing." He departed with reluctance. Diplomacy wasn't his style. For him, it was striking hard and fast in quick succession. He dealt in shadows, not in the light. Guilliman had assured him that it was for Diplomacy's sake. The Ministorum believed that with a Primarch on formally desecrated ground, the blessings of a Priest and his retinue would sanctify it.

"The Adeptus Mechanicus want to open up mining operations in the Istvaan system," he'd said. Istvaan V is a starting point. Istvaan III is out of the question, but there were no confirmed Chaos forces on Istvaan V." Corax had gritted his teeth, knowing what the Word Bearers had unleashed. No Chaos forces indeed. "However, the Ecclesiarchy have insisted that the Drop Site be sanctified before any mining operations can begin."

They were using the mass grave of his sons as a political move. The gravesite of Ferrus Manus to please the fools of the Ecclesiarchy. It had taken everything Corax had not to attack Guilliman right then and there. And Roboute had seen it in Corax's dark eyes. "I am sorry, Brother. I know it's hard to hear this, but it needs to be done. Istvaan V will be more than a site of betrayal. It will be a new beginning. I promise."

"I will hold you to that, Brother," Corax had said. As he walked through the halls, the human Imperial Guards that had also accompanied them bowed and saluted Corax. Corax had been apprehensive about the growth of the Imperial Guard in the last 10,000 years, fearing this meant an end to the usefulness of the Astartes, but there were still things the Space Marines were needed for and he was glad of that. What made him intrigued was the reintroduction of a Regiment he'd long thought extinct: The Therion Cohort.

During the Heresy, they had been the support for the greatly diminished Raven Guard under the command of Praefactor Marcus Valerius. Valerius had been a key factor in the rescue of the Raven Guard remnants from Istvaan V and had been a staunch ally during Corax's war against the Traitor Legions. Unfortunately, Corax learned that Valerius had begun to worship the Emperor as a God and indeed all his regiment did as well. It had been a betrayal of everything Corax had fought for and believed in and thus had sent Valerius to die in battle at Beta-Garmon. Corax had not heard from Valerius since then so he'd assumed he died in battle. He thought back to his banishment of Valerius and felt a twinge of remorse. Beta-Garmon had ultimately failed to prevent Horus' advancement towards Terra. He'd essentially sent him to a pointless death. "Then again, does any death really have a point to it," he mused to himself.

As he approached Ruban's cabin, he breathed in and out. "Keep calm. Be diplomatic." He knocked on the door and a voice answered.

"Enter, please." The voice was calm, polite, almost fatherly. Given that he was a priest, Corax assumed it was his job to be. He stooped low as the door opened upon a cabin that was quite spartan in its layout. A bed with a small night stand with a lumen and a book on it and a rack of ornate armor with a power sword in its sheath in front of it. At a desk in the corner sat the priest. He was of medium height for a mortal with a head of thinning hair. His skin was quite pale, not to the point of a Nostraman, but it was a complexion that was familiar. The priest stood up and bowed low. "My Lord Primarch. It is an honor to meet you."

Corax nodded in acknowledgment. "On behalf of the Le- The Chapter, I welcome you aboard the Shadow of the Emperor."

"Thank you, Lord Corax. If I may be so bold, the stories I heard about you as a child do not do you justice."

"Stories," Corax asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. I grew up on the streets of Kiavahr in an Orphanage. I joined the Ministorum when I came of age to help those like I used to be. You were an inspiration to me. Thank you, Lord Corax."

Corax was surprised by this level of humility from a Ministorum Priest. From the few interactions he had, the Priests were nothing more than hypocritical windbags that cared little for those beneath them. Men and women of status and power that had gained more of it. "May I ask you a question, Father Ruban?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"Kiavahr. How has it fared in the 10 millennia I was gone?"

"Have you not visited it, Lord Corax?"

Corax shook his head. "I have not. I have been back in the Imperium for nearly 5 years and I still haven't visited the homeworld."

"Why is that, my Lord?"

Corax was honest in his answer. "I do not know." He stood tall again, taking back the power that he realized he'd been giving the Priest. "Have your retinue ready to descend to the surface, Father. I trust the Therion Cohort are capable?"

Ruban nodded and smiled. "I can say with certainty that the men and women of the Cohort are among the finest soldiers I have had the honor of serving with. They are true servants of the Emperor and I can tell you that they are honored to be part of this cleansing of the sins of Drop Site Massacre."

Corax scowled. "Some sins can never be forgiven or cleansed, Father." As he turned to go, he heard the Priest speak again.

"It was an honor to meet you, Lord Corax." Corax said nothing as he departed. The Priest seemed to be well-meaning, but was naïve. The sin committed in the Istvaan system was worse than any before or since. The sin of betrayal. In his mind, he could still hear the shells falling around him. The cries of agony as his sons were blown to pieces. The roar of Ferrus Manus' rage as he charged Fulgrim for their ill-fated duel. Vulkan's cry of grief as he cradled one of his Salamanders in his arms before being consumed by the explosions. And most of all, he remembered seeing the grim and unfeeling face of Perturabo as he betrayed his brothers, siding with Horus Lupercal for no other reason than bitterness and envy.

"There is no forgiveness to be had. They are all guilty. One day, Perturabo, Lorgar, and Alpharius will all pay for what they did." He clenched his fists, the talons digging into the ceramite of his gauntlets. No forgiveness, no mercy. Not for those traitors.

After Lord Corax had left, Ruban went to his chest and took out a piece of red cloth. He'd lied to Lord Corax about the orphanage. He had been raised on stories, but the stories had been passed down through his family for 10,000 years. From father to son, mother to daughter, the stories of the Therion Cohort's service with the Raven Guard had become a tradition for his family to pass down in the same way a sword would be passed down. That, and one other item. It had been worn by the first Praefactor of the Therion Cohort in battle alongside the Emperor. It had worn down from a sash to a piece of ragged cloth, yet it was full of the Emperor's Grace to have lasted this long. Ruban Valerius tucked it into his robes as he prepared himself for departure. "I promise you, my great ancestor. Redemption will be ours at last."

In the hanger bay, Corax watched as the three companies of Space Marines and the Cohort boarded the dropships. Father Ruban stood beside him, clad in his armor, helm held in the crook of his arm. It would be over soon. Some pretty words, a salute, and they would depart. Nothing more.

Deep below the Urgal Depression, in a massive underground complex, hundreds of cryotubes activated as giants in silver-gray armor with gold trimmings came to life. Their armor was old. At least Mark IV. Their sensors had picked up visitors. Their solitude had been disturbed. At the end of the Cryogenics Hall, a Contemptor Dreadnought stirred. The fragment of a man inside the huge armor groaned as he came to life. "My brothers, our time has come at last."

"Shipmaster Somanova," the Auger Officer called. "There's something on the scanners."

Somanova joined the officer and looked over the scanners. "I don't see anything."

"It was just there. It blinked out just before you joined me. It looked like... a Battle Barge."

"Impossible. A Battle Barge couldn't hide like that. Especially not from our auspex."

"I apologize, Shipmaster, but I saw what I saw."

Somanova pondered this. "Keep an eye on it. It may have been a mistake or it may not have. Best to be certain."

"Yes, Shipmaster."

On the edge of the Istvaan system, a Battle Barge with the markings of the IVth Legion drifted through. On the bridge, Warsmith Toramino stood in his Cataphractii Armor and surveyed his bridge crew. His second in command, Captain Voltan, returned from the Shield Array console with a triumphant smile on his face. "Reflex Shield at full power, Warsmith. We are completely hidden from their scanners."

Toramino nodded as he gazed upon the Shadow of the Emperor. After countless millennia, the Raven Guard had returned to Istvaan V with their Primarch. It was here that Corvus Corax would finally meet his end. Toramino had been there on Istvaan V when the Loyalists had been crushed under the guns of their tanks. He had seen his Stor-Bezashk grind them under heel. He had been on Iydris when Fulgrim had ascended to Daemonhood and he had survived Khalan-Ghol when the Ultramarines had unleashed a Khornate Daemon upon it. He was a survivor.

Toramino considered himself a true Iron Warrior. A true noble born son of Olympia unlike mongrel dogs like the upstart Warsmith Honsou. Honsou... The name was enough to cause his blood to boil in rage. He had undone everything Toramino had worked hard for by stealing his soldiers, killing Warsmith Berossus, and stealing his fortress on Medrengard. One day he would have his revenge. One day he would have everything he deserved. Not even the Imperium had been able to crush him.

"I am Iron, Primarch. You will learn what that means soon enough."

Author's Note:

Ah, it feels good to have more knowledge and understanding of things when going over your old stuff. The biggest change to this, besides Ruban being revealed as a descendant of Marcus Valerius, was the changing of the OC Iron Warrior to Toramino. I consider Angel Exterminatus to be one of my favorite Horus Heresy books and I liked Toramino as the perfect example of the typical aristocratic douchebag who lets his men die while he sits in a lawn chair with a cool drink in his hand. As soon as I finished Angel Exterminatus, I knew I had to give this guy the take down he deserved. I mean, it wasn't confirmed whether he died or not in Dead Sky, Black Sun so he could have survived. Maybe.

Changing the Cadian 412th to the Therion Cohort was something I feel also made more sense. Having something tied strongly to Corax's past coming back to fight alongside him made sense and it gives us the chance to have old matters put to rest. I hope people are enjoying this and I hope to get these done well.