In the cold vacuum of space, a golden-skinned muscular man with a crown of branching antlers upon his head sat cross-legged above a star. Since their departure from Remnant, the God of Light dreaded the day his younger brother would find out about his treachery. Although they were divided on many topics, both deities agreed to leave behind the planet and species they had created as an experiment.
The elder brother mourned the extinction of humanity when he watched his younger brother wipe them out with his magic. The shockwave of purple flames overwhelmed them in a second, their bodies burnt to ashes. He remembered the immortal Salem kneeling on the scorched ground, dumbfounded and shocked by the sudden annihilation of her rebel army.
As the years passed, the deity fretted over the planet and the survivors with worry. He didn't know what Salem was up to, but it couldn't be anything good. Vengeance against the gods was her only desire. If they decided to return to Remnant in the future, he had no desire to face a second revolt. The end result would be terracide.
That was why he resurrected Ozma and tasked him with guiding humanity. The four relics he scattered across the continents would summon him and his brothers when they were gathered together.
He felt his brother's presence behind, anger and disbelief emanating from his purple draconic scales. He turned around to see a four-legged skeletal dragon with two wings, frayed and dotted with holes in them. The face was a skull with empty eye sockets. A pair of spiraled horns sat on top of the skull and he could see the row of jagged bony fragments that dotted the spine and tail.
Before the God of Light could say anything, the dark deity swung his massive claw at his face. The claws ripped the flesh off his face, golden blood trickling from the wound. He parried another attack, pushing away the claw with his hand.
"Traitor! Bastard! Oathbreaker!" the God of Darkness howled furiously, his claws swiping empty as the older brother dodged them.
"Brother," the God of Light ducked to avoid the spiky tail. The sibling god spun around and lunged forward to bite him.
"Shut. Up." The dragon's jaw widened and a beam of purple light blinded the older brother. His skim boiled and blistered, his vision alternated between crimson red and darkness. He raised his hand up and projected an energy bubble around him. His skin began to regenerate, the blisters and boils disappearing. He watched the dragon fly around him and eyed it wearily. The moment his younger brother entered his range, he conjured a net into his hands and flung it at him.
The net wrapped itself over the dragon and quickly shrunk into its skin. The dragon screamed and thrashed against the net as the God of Light held the rope tightly. Using his younger brother's inertia as momentum, he began spinning on his heels. The furious bellows from his younger brother faded away with each rotation as he sped up. He had no idea how long he was spinning, but he did see the net had shrunk significantly. Inside the net was the God of Darkness in his humanoid form. The younger sibling has a similar figure except he was purple-skinned and had spiraling horns on his head.
The net dissolved into motes of light as the God of Light waved his hand over it. The younger sibling's hand twitched and he slowly opened his eyes. He laid in the void for a few seconds before getting up.
"You really are a hypocrite, brother," the God of Darkness growled. The older sibling ignored his slight and snapped his fingers. The darkness of space was replaced with a white empty room. As far as the God of Darkness saw, there was no one except him and his brother.
Fog rose from the ground, alarming the younger deity. The ghostly apparition of Ozma rose from the foggy ground. Standing across from Ozma was a fog-like clone of his older brother.
"I see what he's doing," the younger god thought to himself and silently watched the clones speak. This stage was his brother's way of retelling his actions with Ozma. The God of Darkness heard, saw and understood everything that had transpired between the two of them.
When it was done, he was transported back into the dark void of space. The God of Light turned to face his brother.
"I am sorry for everything I have done up to this point," he spoke regretfully, "I have always been sentimental about our creations, especially humanity."
"I worry about what Salem will do to the survivors. Making her immortal so she could learn from her mistakes was a terrible idea." he shook his head sadly.
"I have no doubts that she will try to conquer humanity and corrupt them with lies. That is why I sent Ozma back to Remnant. To unite humanity and ensure they have a chance against her."
The God of Light paused when he noticed his brother, who was reclining on a divan. The blank stare and glazed, half-lidded eyes confirmed the older brother's suspicions.
"Since you're not listening, do you have any questions?" the older brother asked. The God of Darkness raised his hand loosely.
"Have you spoken to Ozma since his resurrection?" He spoke in a flat tone. The God of Light shook his head.
The God of Darkness stood up from the divan, which faded away into darkness. He stretched his arms, his bones popping. The God of Light watched him cautiously and conjured the net into his hands again.
Violet frayed, dotted draconic wings burst from the God of Darkness's back. He flexed his wings experimentally while inspecting them. He raised his eyebrows at his brother's net.
"Don't be an ass, brother. It's only fair that I send my own champion to Remnant. After all, we have the same goal: to kill Salem."
The God of Light frowned slightly as he pondered over his younger brother's words. While he agreed about sending his own champion, he doubted his brother's claim about sharing the same goal. Even if they killed Salem, what would happen afterwards. Would his champion betray Ozma the moment she perished?
Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to continue his theory as he heard the sound of beating wings. The God of Darkness was levitating above him, waiting for his decision. He sighed and nodded his head.
With a gleeful smile, the God of Darkness flew into the void in search of his champion. It didn't take long for him to find a suitable candidate. He placed the tiny spark in front of him and pushed a tendril of magic into it. The mote twitched and expanded into a humanoid shape. The form grew brighter as he fed the soul more power. At the climax of this action, there was a blinding flash and an ear-piercing scream as his would-be champion awakened.
A black sky dotted with specks of white light greeted him when he woke up. The man found himself floating in the void, unable to recall his memories. He clutched his throat, suddenly aware of the scratchy feeling inside it. It pulsed and throbbed painfully. He tried to speak, but a hoarse whisper left his mouth.
Who am I? What am I? Why am I here? A plethora of questions bombarded him as he took his first breath since waking up. A low growling noise made him turn around and he froze in place. A giant draconic-like skull with empty eye sockets stared back at him. Violet smoke oozed through the silts of his jagged fangs. The dragon rose to its full height and unfurled its tattered, frayed wings.
"You lived quite the interesting life, Hadrian." the dragon spoke. The man recognized his name and approached the dragon.
"Who are you? How do you know what kind of life I lived?" Hadrian asked. The dragon leaned forward, "I am the God of Darkness, mortal. It is natural for beings like me to be omniscient."
The dragon's head slithered around Hadrian and spoke a low booming voice, "Born in the wastelands, conscripted and transformed into a superhuman warrior, fought in a bloody war of unity, and betrayed by your leader at the war's climax." the dragon shook his head. "A terrible way to go."
The dragon's words awoke a simmering rage within him. Memories of his old life flashed in his mind, all of them were gore-splattered with reminders of defeat or victory. The last memory was the most vivid one. He remembered how the battle ended - the warm golden rays of the Sun cresting over the towering snowy peaks of Mount Ararat. The joyous whoops and hollers of his brothers as they congratulated one another. The smell of gunpowder, blood and burning wood lingered in the air. At the top of the mountain, he could see the gold and crimson banner fluttering in the chilly breeze. A raptor's head with lightning bolts on either side of it was displayed prominently in the banner's center. He felt pride in his heart when he saw the Raptor Imperialis. The last warlord had been slain and Terra - all of Terra - was united under the Emperor's banner.
The sound of metal boots stamping into the ground drew his attention and he turned to face the approaching crowd. At the head were golden-clad giants armed with elaborate spears. A plume of red cloth was attached to their tall conical helmets and beautiful gems were etched into their armor. Symbols of lighting and twin-headed eagles covered their armor. They carried themselves with a steel mien, their otherworldly presence threatened to suffocate him. Behind them trailed countless rows of black-clad warriors in power armor. A crimson winged sword on a field of black was painted on their right pauldron.
His eyes roamed over the crowd and he frowned. If the Emperor's Legion was here, where was the Emperor himself? He detached himself from his comrades and slowly scrambled down the mountain's base. When he reached the ground, he reached for a dirty rag nearby and quickly dusted himself off. He sheathed his power gladius and approached the Custodian.
"Hail to thee, Custodian. A joyous day, is it not?" he greeted the giant. The giant simply nodded and stared off into the distance. Members of the crowd dispersed as they climbed the mountain's slopes.
"Does the Emperor know?" Hadrian asked. Again, the giant nodded his head. The Custodians and the black-clad warriors were now standing either behind or near his brothers-in-arms. Some ignored them, while others glanced at them wearily. Everything about their behavior screamed danger and he clutched the rugged handle of his gladius.
He turned around, half-expecting to see the Emperor coming behind him on the rubble-filled road. There was no one there. He turned to face the Custodian next to him. The giant was a statue, his feet planted in the dusty ground. Hadrian stood in front of him, pulled out this gladius and held it under the Custodian's neck.
"Why are you here, Custodian? None of this makes sense." He pointed at the mountain with his other hand. The silent warrior dipped his head until his eyes match Hadrian's furious gaze.
"You know what we are doing, Thunder Warrior," the giant rumbled. Hadrian looked back at his oblivious brothers, unaware of the impending doom beside them.
He opened his mouth to scream at them, to warn of the heinous betrayal. The warning was muffled by two massive gloved hands that suddenly covered his mouth and head. In the span of second, he felt his neck twist at an incredible speed, pain flooded his brain as he was ripped from his neck. He could faintly hear the surprised shouts of his brothers as they were assaulted by their former allies. Darkness overtook him and he was no more.
All he felt was anger. Anger at the Custodian who killed him. Anger at the Emperor of Mankind, who discarded him and his brethren like trash. If this being could grant him his desire, then he would gladly do its bidding.
"What do you want from me?" he shouted at the dragon. The massive draconic form disappeared in a cloud of purple dust and in its place stood a humanoid figure with curling horns on its forehead.
"I need someone to become my champion, little one," the being said as he circled around Hadrian. "I have a problem that needs to be resolved." he continued.
"What kind of problem?" Hadrian asked.
"Oh, you know. Killing an immortal bad guy problem," the dark deity said drily. The God of Darkness noted a burning rage in the man's emerald eyes. A rage that could be tempered and sharpened into a fine weapon.
"If I accept your proposition, what will you give me in exchange?" Hadrian asked. The god responded by raising four fingers in the air. "I will grant you four wishes."
"I will do it. In exchange, I want vengeance for me and my brethren." The man's response made the god's eyebrows rise in shock. He stepped toward the man and leaned forward at him. "Are you sure? You don't know anything about this place and you didn't ask for any information."
"I will do it." Hadrian repeated himself. The dark purple being sighed heavily and snapped his fingers. An elaborately-designed throne appeared next to him and he sat on it, his hand cupping his chin.
"If I accept you, what is your wish?" the deity asked.
"Vengeance. Vengeance against those who wronged me and my brothers," Hadrian declared. The god rubbed his forehead, annoyed at the mortal's short-sighted request. Rising from the throne, he snapped his fingers and the two of them were surrounded by a wall of fog.
The wall of fog dissipated and the two stood in a cavernous room. Thick metal wires crackling with energy covered the wall like a spider web. The wires converged toward a pale golden light on top of a giant ziggurat. The steps were covered with a tattered velvet rug. Along the steps on granite plinths stood the Emperor's guardians, their signature weapon grasped tightly in their hands.
"Your vengeance has already been granted," the god pointed at the golden light. Hadrian felt himself pulled toward the light, his vision blurring as he surged past the guards. Now, he was standing in front of the throne. Hadrian was horrified at the husk he was seeing. The once mighty Emperor reduced to a lowly corpse. The skeletal arms and legs were fused into the throne. His jaw was twitching erratically.
"What happened to him? Why is he on the throne?" he asked the god, who scratching his arms.
"Mortally wounded by his favorite son. Currently, he is doing a lot of things simultaneously. Sealing the Webway Gate, powering the Astronomican, guiding his Saints - all while he is trapped in an endless cycle of rebirth and death. Everything he is doing is to protect humanity. If the throne fails, if he dies, Terra will be destroyed by a Warp Storm."
The idea of Terra being swallowed by such terror sounded impossible to him. Before he could ask another question, the wall of fog descended upon him and he was transported again. This time, it was not a cavernous place. He and the god stood in the ruins of a Gothic-style building. Stone rubble and other debris laid everywhere around him and he could feel the scorching heat of the Sun beating down on him. Beyond the rubble was a wide expanse of desert.
Standing a few feet away from him were two men clad in power armor. One wore a golden death mask upon his face. The other wore red and black colors, a serrated saw with a blood drop within it was stamped on his right pauldron. Fury glinted in the other man's eyes as he spoke to his comrade.
They were arguing with each other, their voices muffled. The closer he approached them, the more clear he could hear their heated exchange.
"You are too noble to understand," the man sneered at the masked one, "That is not salvation, that is replacement. These new warriors will bear the colors of Flesh Tearers, but without Sanguinius' fury they will be Flesh Tearers in name only. All my time as Chapter Master I have waged war on our rage, to wrestle it into submission and use its strength to slay our foes. We are fury! From the time of Amit, the savage lord, to this day, we have carried the white heat of Sanguinius' anger in us. That was our gift and our burden. The flaw is what makes us what we are." The man clenched his fist in front of the masked one's face.
The man continued his litany, "We are nothing without the struggle against it. He would make us all Ultramarines in red armor. There are few of my warriors left, few true Flesh Tearers. Once we are dead, the Flesh Tearers will be no more, no matter that these abominations carry our name. It is a betrayal, not a boon. Guilliman will want us gone quickly, and his own warriors in our stead."
The man turned away from the golden one and walked into the desert. The scene vanished into fog and Hadrian found himself back in the void.
"Do you still wish for vengeance, Hadrian?" the god asked. "As far as I am concerned, this is their Mount Ararat. Their moment of betrayal. The old guard replaced by the new generation. The Firstborn against the dawn of the Primaris Marines" the dark deity continued.
Hadrian frowned as he processed what he had seen. It was similar to how things went down at Mount Ararat. Both the Thunder Warriors and Firstborn were replaced by their successors after a major event had occurred. Both experienced confusion, doubt and surprise at this sudden event. Both came to the conclusion that they were going to be replaced and believed they were betrayed by their leader.
Although he was shocked to see his leader in such terrible conditions, he felt vindicated at the Emperor's current state. He deserved to be trapped that endless loop. Whoever his favorite son was, Hadrian silently thanked him for his deed.
"So, what will you do now?" the god asked. Hadrian shrugged his shoulders, "I do what I was created to do: fight and kill in the name of unity."
The God of Darkness mulled over the mortal's answer and sighed. He pointed his hand at the mortal and spoke.
"Then, I appoint you as my champion."
A beam of purple light shot from the palm of his hand and into Hadrian's forehead. Images of items and people flashed in his mind. Strange words and unknown vocabulary made his head throb painfully.
It ended abruptly and left him dizzy. "Never do that again," he groaned at the chuckling deity. Looking down at his hands, he noticed pulsing purple veins under his skin.
"Ah, good. It appears my gift is flowing through you," the god nodded. Hadrian frowned at the deity, who continued. "I gave you the ability to selectively destroy your target."
The god noticed Hadrian's confusion and explained, "Let's say someone was sick with an illness, like a fever. You can use my power to get rid of the fever and the person will recover."
Hadrian slowly nodded his head, understanding how his new power worked.
"So, what are your four wishes?"
Hadrian smiled and spoke loudly, "I want my brothers to be reincarnated with me into the new world. I want to become a Thunder Warrior without any defects. I want my power armor, upgraded to the highest and latest specifications. Lastly, I want the latest version of my weapons."
"Granted," the god said. "Now let us begin," the deity clapped his hands. A cold numbing sensation crawled through Hadrian's skin. He fell to his knees, his vision blurry and his hearing faint. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down as he laid prone in the void. Darkness swept over him like a thick blanket and he knew no more.