Disclaimer: I still do not own Warhammer, be it fantasy or 40k. As this is a 40k fic, I'm not actually sure I need to mention fantasy, but I figure I should just in case. Either way, both are owned by Games Workshop.
"Words".
'Thought'.
Macragge's Honour, transit through the Immaterium.
Fulgrim's POV.
Stepping into the bridge, I saw Guilliman and walked to meet him. As I walked to the other side of the bridge, I took note of the people and space marines. Their reactions were much more guarded than those I had passed on my way here. I also noticed how similar this bridge seemed. It was as though not much had changed.
Stepping beside Guilliman, the Lord-Commander started talking first. "I am going to give you a choice. Stay with me and the Ultramarines and prove your loyalty by fighting with us, or I give you the more difficult option of forging your own path. You have loyalist sons, convince them that you are loyal, and show the Imperium that I don't need to constantly watch you. Of course, if you take this option, these Custodes will continue to watch you. Just to ensure you are honest in your intentions to prove yourself."
I took a moment to think. I decided that I don't deserve the east path, not after everything that I've done. But first, I needed a question answered. "May I ask a question first?" I asked. "You can ask", came Guilliman's response. "Why?" "Excuse me?" "Why? Why did you free me? After all that I've done, you were the last person I would've expected to free me." "Because, Fulgrim, I can't do this alone. I do not know where the others have gone, and I can not rebuild the Imperium by myself." "Very well. I choose the second option."
I was told that it would take time to reach my sons, and returned to the quarters I had been given. Finally, with some time to myself, I thought back. I had done so many terrible things. It had all gone wrong at Laeran, when I picked up that accursed sword. Even before then, my own pride had caused issues. After Laeran, well. 'Oh Ferrus', I thought sadly. 'If only I had died in your place.'
After a long time spent grieving what I had done, I collected myself. I had work to do. In those quarters I had all the information that I would need to bring myself up to date, so I started reading.
Once I was up to date, I got to work. This sword was no where near my standards, so getting a new one was my top priority.
Kulth, Segmentum Obscurus
Captain Boranez POV
Things weren't looking good, to say the least. With guard support, we had finally made it to the rebel's defensive line when the Xenos hit our left flank. 'Right where 9th company should've been', I thought grimly. Either the Orks had broken them, surprised them, or they hadn't made it into position in time. None of those were particularly good things.
Luckily the guardsmen seemed to be holding the right flank decently well, despite the rebels attempting their own counterattack. Taking stock of the situation, I decided to take my brothers around me and charge the largest Ork in sight. This turned out to be a bad idea, as that Ork was a lot larger than I had initially thought. My brothers were quickly forced to deal with the Orks around us, leaving me alone with the big one.
I was quicker and more skilled, but he was far stronger. Eventually, one of his blows managed to break my weapon and force me to the ground. Staring the Ork in the face, I waited for a death that, shockingly enough, never came. Instead, a blade intercepted the Orks weapon. With a few quick slashes from that same blade, the Ork was down.
The person who saved me was odd, to say the least. He had long, white hair, and wore purple armor. He was also taller than anyone I had seen before, and he had this aura that made him seem like he was in command, that he was someone regal. He reached out his hand towards me and said "Rise, my son."
I took the hand and let him help me up, but was extremely confused. "Son?" I asked. "You don't seem like Rogal Dorn," I continued. "Dorn? No, we have more important things to worry about now. Are you the captain?" He asked. "Well yes," I started. "Good. I want us to fall back to those hills, and regroup with what's left of 9th company." 'What's left of 9th company?!' I suppose that I was right, the Orks had broken 9th company.
I had one of my brothers next to me send the order through the vox, and the company began to disengage. Luckily, the Orks seemed to have been distracted by the death of the biggest Ork and the rebel forces, and mostly didn't chase us. Noticing our retreat, the guardsmen began to fall back as well. After a fairly orderly withdrawal, we met up with what remained of 9th company, and it didn't look good.
Captain Yorandos and many of 9th company's officers had died in the fighting, and a large portion of the company was missing as well. Finally getting a good look at the strange man, he seemed familiar. Like I should know him from somewhere. "Who are you?" I asked. "I am your father," was his response. "You aren't Dorn though." This didn't make much sense. Everyone knew that the Sons of the Phoenix were children of Dorn, successors of the Imperial Fists. "I never said that I was," came his reply.
Certain things about the man didn't seem right. He had a large "III" on his armor, he was larger than any man or space marine I had ever seen, and he looked nothing like any of the pictures I had ever seen of the loyalist Primarchs. Which left very few possibilities, none of them good. Putting the pieces together, I suddenly realized who this man was. Raising my power sword, I shouted "Traitor!" and made my move.
Author's Note:
Well, hope you all enjoyed that. Again, I'm terrible with scheduling things, so I don't know when the next chapter will be done. Hopefully soon though.