The Cipher Heresy

by RoughTime

The Great Crusade is under way, and the Imperium of man grows and expands to great heights. But an unforeseen action cause everything to hang in the balance.

~The Cipher Heresy~
~The Great Crusade~

The 31st Milenea was one of conquest and discovery for the ever growing Imperium of Man. Under the guidance of the great God Emperor, the Imperium expanded its borders, liberating and educating every world brought into its fold.

It was during this time that the God Emperor would genetically design and create twenty demigod sons. These were the Primarchs, powerful beings each made with a powerful presence within that of the Warp. Each aurora was unique from the other. From their newly made geneseed, the God Emperor also built the first ever Legiones Astartes, soldiers of unmatched strength and grit. He had great plans for both of his great creations,

When the God Emperor sent his sons off into the galaxy to land on specific planets to grow and adapt in specific ways, but unbeknownst to him at the time, something else decided to throw a wrench into his perfectly laid out plans. Forces from deep within the space inbetween real space and non-reality, the Warp, wanted a foothold in real space, and they needed Humanity to do so, thus they scattered the Primarchs' capsules to mess with the Emperor and try and gain a servant of Chaos.

Only centuries later would they see the fruits of their disease filled labor.

Upon sensing the scattering of his beloved creations, the God Emperor was forced to jumpstart his great crusade earlier than expected, gathering his fleets and space marines to go out and gather the forces of Humanity from their solitudes to join his great Imperium of Man.

Slowly he gathered his sons, each time learning of their feats and strengths, as well as their faults. Each had a flaw, and each had a grand strength that they brought to their legions.

Horus Lupercal was the first to be found on Cthonia, a great and prosperous mining world filled with great landmasses of ores and resources. The Emperor landed with a squad of his Custodians, asking the local populous present to tell him where his son may reside. Soon, from the crowd, came the great warrior, wielding a battlemace of untold proportions. He proclaimed himself Defender of the Lupercal Gate, Horus Lupercal. He bowed to the Emperor, recognizing him as his father. Horus would be reunited with his legion, the Luna Wolves. He would rename them the Sons of Horus soon afterwards.

Thus the journey to unite the empires of man under one banner and gather the Primarchs began.

Slowly but surely the Imperium grew, and the legions gained their leaders. Though some caused the Emperor slight hesitation to let them join he reign.

Konrad Curze had been plagued with visions and migraines of incredible proportions, and his upbringing hadn't been so kind, his sense of justice and heroism being skewed and twisted. Thus he had the troubled Primarch placed under Magnus the Red, possibly the most powerful Psycher after the Emperor himself and Malcador and thus capable of having and understanding visions.

Corvus Corax had been experimented on in his homeworld of Deliverance, and had become a twisted thing like Konrad, but in a more animalistic way. He was obsessed with shadows and would never state why, only muttering about how beautiful the shadows were.

Rogal Dorn had built a mini empire within the Imperium, a great golden empire. But when the Ork WAAAAGH that had spread through the Imperium had caused Rogal's empire to shatter and become nothing more than rubble. Despite Perturabo arriving to give aid (seeing that while he and Rogal where both incredibly brutal with each other, he couldn't watch Rogal's empire fall), Rogal blamed Perturabo, saying that he never cared for Rogal's Imperial Fists. Nothing Perturabo did could cease Rogal's anger.

Logar had become such a prophet of the Emperor's godhood that every world that Logar had conquered made the Word Bearer's Primarch become more and more prideful. Eventually he made a massive temple to the Emperor, which was the final straw for the Emperor. Despite Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders, and Angron's, Primarch of the World Eaters, protests, the Emperor sent the Ultramarines to destroy the temple.

The biggest issue the Emperor had was with Leman Russ. Found on the planet Fenris, at first the savage and ferocious Primarch was just what the Emperor needed to eliminate certain foes and… loose ends. Thus soon after all the Primarchs were gathered, he sent Leman to deal with two Legions and their Primarchs that had done deeds so horrendous they have been removed from all digital records of the Imperium. When Leman returned, however, something had changed. It was as if seeds had been planted within his mind, ones that had yet to sprout, but had already taken root.

Despite these and a few other problems within his ranks, the Great Crusade continued, conquering those who opposed them, and aiding those who joined. Though there was one major issue.

That being the constant threat of Chaos. The Imperium needed a way to avoid Warp travel, for the forces of Chaos reside in the war, and were constantly calling forth for those onboard great vessels to join their ranks of daemons and cultists. Thus the Emperor began to explore alternate ways to travel.

All failed… except for one potential option. The Alderai spoke of a place beyond the Warp, where the Warp gods had no word, no place, no actual form. The Webway. Thus the Emperor's new project began.

But before that could begin, a great unrest had begun to rise into vocal hatred towards those known as Psychers.

This would cause the need for a meeting with all the Primarchs to decide their fate…

~The Cipher Heresy~
~The Council of Nikea~

The council was held on the planet of Nikea. There Rogal Dorn had built a grand but small throne room, where a massive table stood, with thrones built by Perturabo sitting on each side. Eighteen, for eighteen Primarchs. Each of the Primarchs sat down to begin the great conversation that would, without anyone knowing, change the course of the Imperium… forever.

—-

Fulgrim sat beside Ferrus Manus and Vulkan, each of them nervous. Such a council was indeed important. The Librarians and Navigators within the Imperium had their fate hanging in the balance. Fulgrim looked over to where Magnus sat. The Crimson King was sitting in a far corner of the grand table, right besides Perturabo. Though he could not see it, Fulgrim knew his brother was dealing with much turmoil. His legion could be slaughtered, cast aside, and wiped from the records alongside himself if this council went poorly.

Ferrus nudged Fulgrim, getting his attention. The Primarch of the Iron Hands looked at his closest friend.

"Our Father has finally arrived.

—-

Once the Emperor arrived, the Council was called in session. One by one the Primarchs gave their thoughts and opinions on the use of Psychers.

Lion El Johnson stated while Psychers shouldn't be removed from the Imperium, they had no place within the Legions.
Fulgrim would place his vote on keeping the Librarians within the legion, explaining that some diseases and inflictions can't be cured by traditional medicine.
Perturabo would side with Fulgrim, explaining that despite his differences with Magnus, Psychers had helped him locate important artifacts and locations.
Jaghatai Khan also voted for use of the psychers, but in the sense of how useful they were in combat, and even stated they should exploit the use of Psychers.

Then came Leman Russ's turn…

—-

Once the Khan was finished speaking, Fulgrim couldn't help but wince. He looked over to Magnus, trying to see his reaction. While there were no clear facial signs of distress, Fulgrim did see Magnus's fists clenched. Obviously Magnus was in no way pleased with their brother. Fulgrim then turned to Leman Russ, the Wolf King. Leman stood up, his teeth clenched and his eyes glaring with such intensity Fulgrim had to mentally calm himself. But somehow he knew he wasn't ready for what the great wolf would say.

"Why must we be here when the answer is clear?! The Psychers are nothing more than barbaric witches and scoundrels! They will all inevitably be turned into monsters or turn their cursed spells against us! They are a danger to the Imperium! Not an asset we can use! Those who use them are all but traitorous fools! I vote not for the non-use of those ghouls, BUT FOR THEIR EXTERMINATION!"

—-

Leman's outburst would cause many of the Primarchs to stop and gasp or glare at him. Leman would glare back, seating himself down once again, a small sneer forming from his mouth. And while Rogal Dorn did indeed side with Russ, the rest of the Council would be less than enthusiastic.

Konrad Curze and Sanguinius would both vote in favor of the Psychers, and even make a point that if Russ intended to do harm to any Psycher that the two legions and their territories hosted they would not be treated as enemies, but monsters that would be pushed back and killed on sight.

Ferrus Manus, who had been quite indifferent about the use of Psychers, voted in favor of them, stating that such actions that Leman proposed were exactly why he would side with Magnus if Leman tried anything foolish.

Many others agreed with Ferrus, though one would stand out. Mortiarian would vote against the Psychers but make a point against Magnus.

—-

Mortarian then stood, his armor creaking as he did so. Fulgrim had never really been a fan of the Lord of Death, but something about him now spoke volumes. He was no fan of Psychers, but he also cared for his sons AND his brothers.

"I place my vote for the non-use of Psychers. But I will state this as well. Leman, I may be no fan of Psychers. I find their magic vile. But I am not one to call for their extermination. Your outburst has made me reflect on my own hatred. And that is something that I must let go in order to help the Imperium we ALL fight for. So even if I am no fan of them, I will welcome them within my ranks if Psychers are indeed welcomed within our ranks. If they aren't I will make sure that those within my Legion are placed somewhere FAR from your treachery."

As he sat to let Vulkan speak, Fulgrim caught a glance from Mortarian. The two nodded their understanding of each other.

—-

As all the Primarchs finished their votes, it all came down to Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons. The legion was primarily filled with Psychers, thus Magnus's input would be paramount to the discussion at hand. But to many's surprise, he simply shook his head, simply placing a vote in favor with a slip of parchment. Magnus simply didn't want to have an outburst like Leman did, and that the actions of the others had made the majority's decision clear. Psychers were indeed welcomed to the Imperium. Once the Emperor looked through the votes, he stood and raised his blade, lighting it ablaze. He slammed it down onto the table, causing the magnificent table to erupt in a beautiful symbol wreathed in flames. It was the symbol of the Thousand Sons.

The Emperor declared the Psychers were safe under the eyes of the Imperium, and that Magnus the Red would build up guides and places for Psychers to begin using their powers and knowing how to limit themselves. This enraged Russ who stormed out of them room, growling the entire time. Despite him leaving, the Emperor also stated that he needed Rogal Dorn to return with him to Terra, as well as Magnus the Red. Their legions would be commanded by Fulgrim and Vulkan until they were done.

As the Primarchs left, many found time to catch up with each other as well as speak with each other's concerns. But Vulkan found himself talking with Sigismund, who had been caught in a deadly ambush by Orks and found himself in a dreadnought.

—-

Vulkan walked towards his shuttle, where some of the Imperial Fists stood. Vulkan recognized the Leviathan dreadnought as Sigismund, hero of the Imperial Fists, the proclaimed "Black Templar of the Fists." Vulkan boarded the shuttle as the small force of Imperial Fists boarded with him.

"What's the occasion, dear Sigismund?" Vulkan asked, turning the dreadnought. The massive machine turned, its red glowing eyes illuminating the shuttle's interior. It motioned for one of the fists to bring forward a tablet. Vulkan took and began to read. Once he finished, he turned back to Sigismund.

"Are you certain that Logar followed Leman Russ back to Fenris?" The self-proclaimed prophet of the Word Bearers had been hit hard back at his grand temple, and had gone on a small pilgrimage. He had returned to the Imperium with an aurora of something off. Whatever Logar wanted from Russ was concerning. Sigismund nodded in his dreadnought frame. Vulkan looked at the Imperial Fists around him.

"How did you get this information, Sigismund?" He asked quietly, not wanting to gain unwanted attention. Sigismund again motioned for a Fist to approach them. Slowly, the Fist became an Alpha Legionnaire, who bowed to the Primarch. Sigsimund sighed.

"Leman Russ has been a concern for a select few Astartes across the Legions, as he's picked fights with just about everyone. I've hired this legionnaire to keep an eye on him." Vulkan nodded, turning back to the tablet. Whatever Logar was going to speak to Russ about… it didn't bode well for the great Primarch.

—-

It wouldn't be long afterwards that the Primarch of the Salamander's mood towards the situation be proven true…

~The Cipher Heresy~
~The Fall of the Primarchs~

The fall of the Primarchs was almost chaotic as the Chaos gods themselves… As during the scattering of the Primarchs, each of the Chaos Gods laid claim to a Primarch to begin to slowly corrupt, whispering in their minds and twisting their souls. Some decided to mess with them once they were found by the God Emperor, while others whispered in their minds as early as they could.

Roboute Guilliman landed on the planet Macragge, and was found by a treacherous warlord. Under his eyes, Guilliman slowly became more devious and tricky, learning how to use lies and deceit to get his way. But Guilliman was still one of loyalty and unity, thus when his foster father tried to kill the high warlord of his home, Guilliman striked down his foster father. Despite showing his loyalty though, Tzeentch had selected the tactical primarch as his future puppet. As Guilliman served under the true warlord, Tzeentch slowly and secretly began planting plans and plots into his mind, slowly fueling the lies and trickery he had been taught in childhood.

Horus had remained loyal to the Imperium and served as Warmaster well, bringing hundreds if not thousands of planets into the Imperium's fold. But during a battle on a cultist-infested world, Horus was injured by a daemon blade of Khorne. He was rushed back to his flagship and was put under treatment, but nothing worked. So when Erebus and Fabius Bile came to them with a way to heal their primarch, the Luna Wolves accepted, desperate for someone to help Horus. But while the two Marines did indeed help Horus, Erebus had helped the Khornite venom flow through Horus's body. Once Horus awoke, the Luna Wolves would forever be changed into the Sons of Horus.

Rogal Dorn had built a great empire before and during the Great Crusade. Its fortresses were the greatest ever seen in the Imperium's history. The Phalanx was Rogal's main base of operations, and Rogal had even found the SICs for the grand vessel, and made three more. But during the height of the Imperial Fists' power in this mini empire, came a WAAAGH of Orks like never before. One by one the worlds in the empire fell, and Rogal Dorn was powerless to stop it. No matter how many Fists were sent, how many Guardsmen were deployed, planets fell. Eventually, the Iron Warriors arrived, being able to assist in defending the rest of Rogal's empire. But the damage had been done, with even Rogal's favored son being interred into a dreadnought.

—-

Sigismund ran through the ruins of the fortress that he had once claimed as his, slashing down Orks left and right as he did so. He had to warn Rogal Dorn. The Orks had gained a titan. If he couldn't warn his Primarch, he wouldn't get any reinforcements necessary in order to bring it down.

He ran and ran but soon faced a more skilled opponent. An Ork Weird Boy. The Weird Boy grunted and lifted their makeshift staff, causing a great surge of energy to blast forth, knocking Sigismund back. Sigismund hurried back to his feet and rushed his enemy. The Weird Boy grinned and grabbed Sigismund's chainblade and ripped it out of his hand. Sigismund roared and threw a punch at the Weird Boy. Suddenly a larger, greener fist grabbed him, pulling him up to the air. A bigger Ork had grabbed him and didn't hesitate to stab the great Astartes. Sigismund howled but kicked the Ork back, being dropped to the ground. Sigismund grabbed a bolter and chainblade discarded on the ground, grunting from the pain.

"I WILL SLAY YOU ALL, YOU FOUL BEASTS! FOR THE EMPEROR, FOR THE IMPERIAL FISTS, FOR MANKIND! NOW COME ON FUCKERS!"

The next thing Sigismund clearly remembers is an Iron Warrior techmarine finding him, rushing forward to see if Sigismund still lived.

"By the Emperor, he still lives! Someone, I need an apothecary! He needs instant medical treatment!"

—-

Despite the Iron Warrior's assistance, and Perturabo arriving in person to deal with the more potent Ork attacks utilizing stolen Titans, Rogal Dorn blamed them for the fall of his Empire, and proceeded to blame many of his brothers. His bitterness soon forced him to leave Terra in the hands of the Iron Hands and Iron Warriors. Soon he began to utilize the Pain Glove to the extreme, slowly shattering his mentality and thus allowing Chaos in the form of Nurgle to drip and fester inside his mind.

Corvus Corax's upbringing allowed the forces of Chaos to seed emotions of doubt, hatred, and a strive for a perfect unity with the shadows he had been forced to endure for every waking moment of his early life. As he would be captured by foul scientists and psychers that heavily desired powers beyond their control, sensing his unique aura and soul. With many experiments and cruel torture performed upon, each seemingly affecting Corvus's mentality and very essence of his soul. When the Emperor located Corax, he found the Primarch had escaped but mentally damaged and deranged, obsessed with being one with the shadows that once he had his legion under his command, he began to preach the perfection of shadows, forever damning his legion to the whispers of Slaanesh.

Lion El Johnson had been sent to deal with an xeno incursion on a distant planet. Arriving with his Dark Angels, the Lion began to cut through the massive waves of xenos, not even noticing the odd changes that the now unrecognizable xenos had gone under. They were filled with hate and lies, spewing random gibberish, and vomiting psychic liquid. The Dark Angels felt their very beings being warped by the enemies' vile magic. Despite this the Dark Angels pushed on, intent on destroying the xenos and liberating the planet. But it was all a ploy planned by Erebus and Logar, who had summoned a wave of Tzeentch daemons across the planet, corrupting it into a living daemon world. And the Dark Angels were falling to the whispers of Chaos. Lion El Johnson had it worse. Upon clashing with the leader of the twisted xenos, his very essence was warped, poisoned with the Changer of Ways's mighty venom. His physical form aged faster than before, and his mind was clouded with whispers. Only he knew what those whispers were.

Jegahtai Khan had conquered his homeworld as a tyrant, forcing every tribe and kingdom to swear loyalty to him. He had been raised by a militaristic father and had been raised to praise war and military might over all else. He eventually grew to become the leader of his tribe and took them on a great war against everyone that was not them. By the time the Emperor had found him, the Khan had turned his homeworld into a wasteland of a paradise. He saw the Emperor as a fool and one that should be overthrown like everyone he had faced back home. His feelings towards the Emperor only drew him closer to Chaos.

Logar had become a priest quite early on in his life, and had learned of the early chaos worship, which immediately intrigued him. He studied it to understand the teachings they taught. But these teachings were cast aside when the Emperor found him. Logar immediately saw the Emperor as a living god, and began to preach his divinity to the people of the Imperium. So when his temple on Monarchia was destroyed by the Ultramarines, Logar was distraught. But he then remembered the old teachings and traveled back to his homeworld to retrieve his private texts. Thus Chaos gained its first true prophet of Chaos.

Alpharius and Omegon used to be the secretive and most odd of the Primarchs, many not even knowing of Omegon. But the twin primarchs damned themselves when they began to converse with Logar, who manipulated them into believing that they needed to do more to prove themselves. With the friendship the primarchs made, the Alpha Legion's Primarchs became more focused on full frontal assaults, not caring for the losses. These ambitions were only stoked by Chaos.

And then there was Leman Russ. His mission to exterminate the Lost Primarchs, his constant hatred for Psychers and those who thought that they were capable of being used within the Imperium, and his great humiliation and scorn he had received from his brothers on Nikea had caused his bitter and twisted feelings to boil over. Despite everything he did for the Imperium, his father had refused to listen to his logic. So he returned to Fenris to decide on his next move, on what path he should follow. That was when he had a visit from Logar…

—-

Logar walked through the private corridors of his brother's sanctuary on Fenris. While he was a more modest man, he did relish in seeing the glory Leman had displayed. Statues of his greatest victories and banners displaying speeches he had made during the Great Crusade. Of course, he hadn't come here to revel in his brother's sanctuary. He had come with glorious purpose.

He approached the great hall where the Space Wolves' Primarch sat. He pushed open the doors to reveal tables overturned, chairs shattered, paintings ripped, and statues maimed. And in the center of it all was an outraged and furious Leman Russ, his battle armor gleaming bright in the fire light room.

"What do you want, brother…? I am not in the mood for your boot licking words about our fool of a father…" Leman said, not even turning around to face Logar. Logar cruelly smiled.

"Oh dear brother. I haven't come here to talk about that… I am actually here to discuss our father. Because I agree, he is being a fool. And he's always been a fool." Leman Russ turned to face his brother, a glint of interest shining in his dark and glistening eyes.

"I am listening… Brother."

—-

Logar would use words of Chaos and his own twisted charm to reveal the forces of Chaos to Leman and show what Leman Russ could accomplish, stating their father was keeping great power and dire secrets from his sons, and that humanity must have a change in power to prosper. If Leman had been in steady mind and surrounded by his most trusted Wolves, he may have killed Logar there and then, but no, his shattered mind had listened and agreed with Logar. Thus the story of the Arch Traitor began…

~The Cipher Heresy~
~Istvaan III~

Leman Russ had devoted himself to Chaos, twisted by his own mentality, the words of Logar, and by the Warp itself. Thus Leman Russ began to gather his brothers to his side. Some, easier than others. Logar had already sided with Russ, as did Alpharius and Omegon. The Khan and Corvus Corax would easily side with Leman, both tired of their father and wanting nothing more than to overthrow him to achieve their own goals. Horus's newfound rage and need for bloodshed would drive him towards Chaos, thus giving Leman Russ a true weapon against his former allies and family. The hardest to get to side with him were Rogal Dorn, Robute Guilliman, and the Lion. But in the end, it was easier than even Logar thought possible.

The Lion had been tormented with dreams and pains all over his body, and his mind was seemingly no longer his. He wanted nothing more than to free himself from this pain. Leman Russ learned of this and promised the Lion that it was indeed possible to be free from the pain, but revealed it was a Chaos induced infliction, and the Emperor would slay him before healing him. Thus the Lion pledged his loyalty to the Wolf, much to the delight of Logar.

Roboute Guilliman had slowly became more and more twisted by the words of Tzeentch, so when Guilliman came face to face with a force of unknown enemies, whose tactics were well and above his own, his sons being slaughtered on the field of battle, Guilliman decided to give in to the voice in his head, desperate to save his sons. This Tzeentch gained a prize, and Leman Russ gained an ally.

Rogal Dorn was the trickiest of the Primarchs to join Leman Russ's side. As Rogal still was loyal to the Imperium, Leman needed the great Primarch's anger and rage to boil over and do something foolish. So Russ sent some Alpha Legionaries to begin messing with Rogal's mind, trying to push the Primarch over the edge. And that they did. Using his hatred for the Iron Warriors, the traitors were able to convince the Imperial Fists to attack the homeworld of the Iron Warriors. But Rogal went in with rage, not tactics. Thus the Imperial Fists were severely beaten and forced off world, where Perturabo's guardian warriors rushed to report the treachery. It was only then that Leman Russ approached the Primarch, promising retribution and forgiveness, since their father certainly wouldn't have either.

With his new found alliances founded, he ordered the Dark Angels, Imperial Fists, Raven Guard, and Ultramarines to keep low while the Space Wolves, Alpha Legion, Word Bearers, and White Scars all began to reveal themselves as traitors. But first, they needed to make sure the loyalist elements of their legions didn't reveal their secrets. Thus Leman Russ staged a great battle on the planet of Istvaan III. It was there that the Arch-Traitor planted a great rebellion, all loyal to Leman Russ, and furthermore, Chaos. The Legions under the Arch-Traitor's banner headed to Istvaan III, deploying the loyalist members of the legions to quell the resistance.

—-

The shuttle the Space Wolves found themselves in was cramped and dark, dripping with intensity and concern. Across from them were Imperial Fists, their weapons drawn and ready. In the far back stood Sigismund, the Great Black Templar. The dreadnaught frame that held the great Imperial Fists didn't keep the great amount of power Sigismund held from shadowing the minds of those around him. But it was he who asked the first question.

"Space Wolves, I must ask of you, why does this great resistance require nine of the Emperor's grand legions to quell?" The great and massive frame's head turned to the Space Wolves. One of the wolves looked at his brothers, seeking silent confirmation to speak, which was granted.

"I apologize, great warrior. But even we have been kept in the dark about this. Our Rune Priests…" Before the Wolf could finish, a growl was heard from one of the other Space Wolves, everyone turned to look at him. It was a Rune Priest, and he was clenching his head, sweat barreling down his face.

"Brother, what is it?" One of the Wolves asked. The Rune Priest looked up at his brothers and cousins, a sense of dread written all over his old face.

"Something is about to happen, something dark… I just can't… can't understand what…" The marines on board all looked at each other, a sense of worry washing all around them. Sigismund was what brought them out of this odd trance.

"Rune Priest, you are to stay with me. Once we land, I want my brothers to begin building air tight bunkers. The enemy may want to use chemical warfare. Order the Raven Guard and Alpha Legion to assist in plotting their positions."

—-

The loyalists landed on the fields of Istvaan III and began their battle. The resistance was using foul warp magic, and also was armed with a multitude of imperial weapons. But in the end, they were no Astartes, and would be crushed under the foot of the marines. For three whole days the marines trampled the resistance, all the while carrying out Sigismund's plan by building various air tight bunkers. The enemy had used various virus and chemical weapons, making the bunkers quite useful during certain phases of the battle.

Eventually they would lay claim to the main city, and proclaimed their victory over the traitors…

When communications were cut off and the bombs began to drop…

—-

Sigismund watched as explosions in the distance grew closer and closer, the entire planet being purged of its living. He turned to the leader of the resistance, who still struggled. An unholy rage filled the dreadnought as he turned his massive helm to face the resistance leader.

"What have you done, you heretical bastard!?" Sigsimund growled, his frame fully shaking from intense anger. The resistance leader just laughed.

"I have brought our lord's will upon you!" He would have said something else if Sigsimund hadn't torn him to shreds with one of his massive grinding claws. Sigismund turned to his fellow marines, all who were desperately trying to make sense of their situation. He made eye contact with the Rune Priest, and the two exchanged a nod.

"Everyone, tell those under your command to evacuate to the bunkers. Their true purpose will now be used front and center."

—-

The loyalists that remained quickly took shelter in the bunkers that now turned into their shelters. But still many would be lost, most trying to save their brothers by shoving them into the bunkers before themselves, their names being written into the armor of those that still lived. As the loyalists tried to still make sense of the disaster going on, their lord commander Sigismund ordered them all to begin moving towards the main city's bunker. The Imperial Fists alongside the Raven Guard and Alpha Legion had built massive and great tunnels to allow for the loyalists to all gather. As the virus bombs fell, the loyalists made their way to the now dubbed Prime Shelter. Many were lost during this trek, as tunnels caved in and toxic gasses swept forward. But still they traveled, some even trying to arrive at the Prime Shelter on the surface, though none made it.

There Sigismund put forth the idea that somehow, unbeknownst to any of them, had turned traitor, for unknown reasons. The Alpha Legionnaire Sigismund had hired to keep an eye on Logar then revealed that Logar had indeed talked with Leman Russ, but he couldn't follow him into Leman's private chambers to hear what was said, so it was clear that something had happened within its walls that truly twisted the mind of the great wolf. The loyalist Space Wolves were appalled by this proclamation, but the more they argued with everyone there, the more they accepted that their beloved primarch had indeed truly fallen to heresy. The Loyalists sat in sadness at what had become of their legions. But they were still determined to defend the Imperium, even if it meant stalling for a few extra hours. Slowly, as the virus bombs fell, the survivors put together a plan. They knew the traitors would send a majority of their troops down onto the surface to eliminate the remaining survivors. So Sigsimund ordered the loyalists to begin preparations for the reinforcement of the Prime Bunker and the hive city above them.

Once the virus bombs stopped dropping and the viruses faded, the loyalists rose out of the Prime Bunker and quickly began to reinforce their surroundings. Whilst they did so, they found the remains of downed transports, and the surviving techmarines devoted many of their remaining resources to the repair of them, as if any news of this heresy was to reach the Imperium, there had to be survivors of the upcoming battle. It was here where Sigismund stood in his mighty dreadnought frame, bellowing out his most grand of speeches as the traitors sent the rest of their forces to eliminate the "weak links…"

—-

"Brothers, cousins! Our final hours fall before us, as those we thought friends, allies, and family come down from the heavens to slay us with their vile treachery! But unlike them, who come at us with vile thoughts, twisted bodies, and warped words… We are loyal! We fight to preserve the empire, the Imperium of Mankind, the land of the God-Emperor from all forms of evil and injustice! Let the fallen laugh like madmen! We will stand forevermore against the coming tide! Let this planet stand as a reminder of what happens when those that stand against the Imperium raise their heretical voices!"

"WE… WE ARE THE EMPEROR'S ANGELS! I SAY LET THEM COME! LET THEM SEE WHAT HAPPENS, WHAT WILL HAPPEN, WHEN THEIR TREACHERY IS MADE KNOWN ACROSS THE GALAXY! TO BATTLE!"

-Sigismund before the Final Hours of Istvaan III

—-

The traitors landed on the soil of Istvaan III and charged, led by Leman Russ and Horus. They rushed to the known position of the loyalist remains, thinking the area scattered and defenseless. What they found was repaired artillery cannons and remaining dreadnaughts and rhinos rushing forward, weapons ablaze. All the while the loyalists fired every weapon they had, slaughtering thousands upon first contact. But the loyalists were still outnumbered, and the two forces clashed, neither side backing down, neither side having any left to lose. But the traitors were too focused on killing their former brothers that they failed to notice transports flying out of the battlefield, covered by artillery fire and flying debris. There was only enough transports to evacuate two companies worth of troops, and those who had been injured before the Final Hours were placed on board, led by Aeonid Thiel, who had been instrumental in the battle and was told to lead the survivors back to Terra to inform the Imperium of the betrayal.

—-

Aeonid Thiel stood in the hull of the transport, looking over some of the injured and defenders who had agreed to help escort them off the battlefield. Amongst them were veterans of the Great Crusade, and even Word Bearers using words of healing to tend to the minor wounded. Thiel couldn't help but sigh with sadness. While his tactics and knowledge had helped those on Istvaan III, he knew that the true heroism was being done below, as Sigsimund led those still loyal to the Throne against everyone they had once considered brothers. Suddenly a hand appeared on his shoulder, Theil turned to see the Word Bearer Argel Taul, a grim but determined expression on his face.

"We are nearing the White Scar battle cruiser." He gestured to the cockpit. Thiel nodded, placing his red helm over his head once again.

"Let us return to the holy Imperium once more, cousin."

—-

The survivors raided the White Scar battle cruiser Speed of the Khan, finding little resistance on board. Using the insignificant ship, they launched into the Warp, intent on getting to the Imperium. But the trip would be plagued by daemons of all kinds, so by the time they would arrive, their numbers would be far less than before and the Dropsite Massacre would have already occurred.

As for those back on Istvaan III, none would survive, Sigismund himself being buried under a massive fortress, though no kill was ever truly confirmed. The planet would still stand as a reminder of the Heresy, and forevermore be remembered as the moment the galaxy fell apart.

~The Cipher Heresy~
~Dropsite Massacre~

Without the warning of the survivors of Istvaan III, being stalled by daemons sent by Leman Russ himself, the traitors could plan their grand reveal to the galaxy. So Leman decided to showcase the might of the traitors by claiming the planet of Istvaan V as a temporary homebase, while Horus, Logar, Alpharius and Omegon, and Jagahtai Khan all rallied behind his banner, whilst the others stayed in the shadows, displaying loyalty to the Emperor to keep the rest of the loyalist in the dark.

Upon hearing of the heresy of the four legions, and the destruction of the Istvaan sector, the Emperor quickly called for all of his loyal sons to gather at Terra for a council of the utmost importance. All who were loyal arrived, as those who hid their true loyalties did as well. The Emperor made a quick decision to have Sanguineus, Mortarian, and Perturabo become the Warmasters Triad, and they would decide what would be done, as his secret project had become more worrisome if not overseen properly. The Triad quickly made use of their role, updating the Primarchs of the heresy and what the current situation was. Perturabo, having been put in charge of the Imperial Palace after Rogal's little stunt, regarded Rogal Dorn with silent hatred. But he also noticed something off about him, Guilliman, the Lion, and Corvus Corax. Though due to the situation at hand, he decided to push it down

Sanguineus quickly put together a plan alongside Mortarian, who had arrived on Terra after assisting Magnus the Red and Konrad Curze on Prospero, the only Primarch of the three to arrive. Magnus had sent Ariham and Konrad had sent Servetar in their places. The Triad called for the Salamanders, Iron Hands, and Emperor's Children to land on Istvaan V to establish a landing zone as well as many defenses as possible. That way the Dark Angels, Ultramarines, Imperial Fists, and Raven Guard could land on the planet and eradicate the traitor forces. Everyone present agreed to the plan, with Fulgrim most hopeful to deal with the situation as fast as possible.

—-

Fulgrim walked through the great halls of the Imperial Palace, Ferrus Manus and Vulkan by his side, none saying any words as they headed towards their shuttles to take them to their capital ships and then…

To Istvaan V.

As the trio walked through the corridors, they heard the bustling of the citizens around them, hurrying from place to place to try and do their duties. Iron Hands and Iron Warriors hurried around as well, making sure areas of importance were secure. It was chaos. As they turned to the flight deck, Fulgrim noticed a worried Fabius Bile. Approaching the chief apothecary while his brothers boarded their shuttles, Fulgrim also noticed Fabius typing away furiously on his tablet.

"Fabius, what is wrong?" Fulgrim asked, stopping to the side of Fabius, who jumped.

"Oh! My lord Fulgrim! I uh… um… well you see…" He sighed and just handed Fulgrim his tablet. Fulgrim, an eyebrow raised, walked on board the shuttle with Fabius, reading the contents of the tablet. Upon finishing, he turned to Fabius.

"Why make such notes about the Ultramarines? And the Imperial Fists? What ailments could they all have contracted?" He asked Fabius, confused. Fabius sighed again, stroking his chin as he often did when he was in thought.

"I am not sure, my lord. These are just observations that I have made. But something sickens them, down to their very genes. I just have never seen such behavior before, especially by the likes of the Sons of Ultramar and Sons of Dorn!" He finished his talk by sighing once again, obviously tired. Fulgrim gave him a solemn nod and turned back to the tablet. He just wished he knew what to do with this information.

—-

As the Iron Hands, Emperor's Children, and Salamanders made landfall, the true extent of the traitors' heresy on Istvaan V was made apparent.

The Word Bearers displayed horrendous acts of self sacrifice, their bodies warped and mutated into devilish things, summoning hoards of daemons and using vile spells to slay their foes. They chanted words of pure evil and treachoury.

The White Scars had become savage barbarians, using their bikes and superior speed to charge through the ranks of the loyalists, their faces twisted into chaotic glee and they butchered those that had once considered them allies.

The Alpha Legion, once of great secrecy, now charge forward with disjunction, trampling over each other to get to the loyalists, determined to claim glory for their primarchs. They utilized weapons of Chaos to sow confusion all over the ranks.

The Sons of Horus had become something monstrous. Through the introduction of the Butcher's Nails and the gifts of Khorne, the Sons of Horus have become things of pure rage and hate, intent on fulfilling their Primarch's will. They roar with such hate that Vulkan, on board his flag ship, buckles from the intense heat it sears from the planet's surface.

And the Space Wolves… oh the Space Wolves. Once the holy executioners of the Emperor's will, the Space Wolves had become twisted things. The sigil of Chaos scratched upon their armor, twisted weapons in their hands, and savage pure hatred glistened from their eyes. Amongst them came waves of daemons and daemon engines.

The loyalist forces, led by Ferrus Manus, clashed with the traitors. The two forces intent on destroying each other utilized every tactic they had up their armor plates. Despite the abilities of the traitor forces, the loyalists were able to capture some key areas and set up landing zones for their reinforcements. It was then when the traitor forces made another push, forcing the loyalist to fall back to the landing zones where their reinforcements were landing.

And that is when the tradegy struck.

—-

Ferrus Manus ran to the landing zones that held the Imperial Fists, swearing all the way as he did so. Of course the traitors would attack when their reinforcements began to land. He hopped over a mound to get some cover, bolter fire storming all around him. He could take a hit, sure. But even the greatest of the Primarchs could fall to enemy fire.

As he evaluated his choices, he noticed a large detachment of Imperial Fists headed to the fight. Ferrus Manus smiled and made contact via his commincator in his helmet.

"Imperial Fists! Load your bolters and fire on the enemy! I repeat, load your…" He was cut short when he saw what happened next.

The Fists did indeed load their bolters and fire. But it wasn't at the enemy.

It was at his sons.

—-

Only now did the touch of Chaos make itself known, and the full true extent of the traitors' reach show itself. The Salamanders, Iron Hands, and Emperor's Children were surrounded by their former cousins and allies. Ferrus Manus, angry at what had happened, knew that his loyal siblings above were most certainly dealing with void battles and thus couldn't help much. So Ferrus was stuck keeping the loyalists together as they also were undergoing a slaughter. As much as Ferrus wanted to launch himself into the crowd of traitors and slay every single one, he knew that wasn't possible. He needed to keep his brothers' sons together or they would all be destroyed. Thus he began to rally the troops and lead them to areas of known safety, even if the safetly provided was limited.

Slowly but surely, survivors of the slaughter arrived to the last area, where Ferrus Manus called for transports to get everyone to safety. While many would be destroyed on the trip down, Ferrus had planned on it. Thus he lead the forces able to in a defense against the incoming traitors.

There he would face down the might leader of the traitor forces there… Lion El Johnson.

Ferrus Manus stood before his traitorous brother, his hammer drawn, ready to clash with the leader of the Dark Angels. The Lion was clearly more out of it than usual, his typical stoic and knightly demeanor now being traded for a tired and sickly. Despite this, when they two clashed their weapons, the power of the Lion was still clear. The Primarchs dualed while the battle raged all around them.

During the battle, the Lion suddenly jumped back, staggering. Only then did Ferrus notice an odd blue glow in his eyes. The Lion looked up at Ferrus, the glow fading for a slight second and all that came out of the Lion's mouth was…

"I'm sorry."

The Lion then haggard over, grunting and then twisted back upright, straight to the sky screaming as tentacles, wings, and spikes burst from his body. Everyone around paused and looked up at the where the once great Primarch stood. Now there stood a twisted demon of Tzeentch.

—-

Ferrus kept leading the charge, now facing down the daemon that had once been his brother, the transports finally landing. As they did, all of the remaining survivors boarded them. They would have begun to lift off if it hadn't been for the Lion's efforts to hold them there. Tears in the warp began to appear everywhere. Hundreds of traitors fell into these tears, as did plenty of loyalists.

In an effort to stop the Warp Tears from spreading and doom the survivors, Ferrus Manus rushed the beast head on and forced the daemon and himself into one of the tears, despite the cries of Vulkan and Fulgrim on the vox. Once the two Primarchs had fallen into the Warp, the tears disappeared, and the remaining loyalists retreated into their cruisers, and the loyalist fleet, while wounded, jumped into the warp, heavily damaged…

But ALIVE.

—-

Ferrus Manus fought the thing that had once been Lion El Johnson, the daemonic planet they fought on barren of all life beside them. Hammer clashed with blade, iron clashed with flesh.

"WHY DO YOU FIGHT? I CONTROL THE BODY OF YOUR BROTHER. AND I WILL CONTROL YOU. YOUR SOUL WILL BE MINE." The daemon spoke with a vile and twisted nobility. Ferrus just glared at the creature. Whatever controlled him, whatever was speaking with the Lion's voice, it lied. He knew better than this thing of the warp.

The two fought and fought, neither gaining an edge, neither willing to back down. But Ferrus was getting tired. His opponent on the other hand, wasn't. Ferrus needed a win, an edge, SOMETHING. He then had a flashback to when Magnus had dragged he and his legion out of a warp storm. While the Iron Hands were checked over by the Thousand Sons, Magnus revealed something to Ferrus.

"All of us, each one of us, have the potential to use the powers of the warp. Each of us unique. I have alway been able to use it… but most of us have not."

Upon the realization, Ferrus closed his eyes, dug deep within his soul, his mind, his body. And upon opening them, a wild green glow shone, and Ferrus grabbed the armor of the Lion.

"No more." Ferrus said, and using his Primarch abilities, he caused the armor to warp under his command, shredding the daemon. The Lion cried out in pain before dispersing into a fine red mist. Falling down on the ground, the armor of the Lion now reverted back to normal, Ferrus slowly took in a breath.

It was over. But now he was stuck in the Warp.

—-

~The Cipher Heresy~
~The In Between~

Leman Russ knew he needed to get to the Sol Sector in order to get any form of victory over the Imperium. But he also knew he had to hamper the Imperium's efforts to stop him before then. Thus began a section of the heresy that was simply known as the In Between. Where various battles were fought and defenses planned. It was pure and utter chaos. But it had to be done.

The fate of the Imperium, and the Galaxy as a whole, depended on who won this grand civil war.

The Invasion of Olympia was more of a slaughter than an invasion. Once again, now empowered by the power of Nurgle, the Imperial Fists led by Rogal Dorn attacked the homeworld of the Iron Warriors, while Perturabo was away on Terra helping lead the Imperium. The Imperial Fists were aided by the Word Bearers and Raven Guard, all intent on eliminating the largest threat to their attack on Holy Terra.

What they found was a large Iron Warrior, Iron Hand, and World Eater fleet, rearmed and ready to defend Olympia from the traitors. The two forces engaged each other, and the true slaughter began. One may have thought the might of the traitors, empowered by Chaos, would have made the tides tip in their favor, but in the end, it was not to be.

Nothing is compared to the rage of those that have been betrayed by those they thought to be their allies and family. While the traitors were able to kill many, the Iron Warriors and their allies killed many more. In the end, a very bitter Rogal ordered a retreat, as not a single drop pod or shuttle had made it to the surface.

The Defense of Posbero was, while bloody, not at all what Leman Russ had wanted. Leman had ordered three of his Great Companies, four of companies of the Ultramarines, and the entirety of the Sons of Horus to Posbero to eliminate Leman Russ's greatest enemy… Magnus the Red.

The traitor force arrived and decimated the cruisers above, dropping loads of their drop pods and transports to the surface of the planet. They rushed forward, destroying all that they could and killed anyone in their way. It was a great tragedy, later gaining the name the Pyscher Butchery.

But all of that was halted when the traitors arrived at the capitol, Magnus's fortress. There, Iron Warrior defenses waited, manned by Death Guard, Night Lord, and Thousand Sons defenders, all ready to push back the traitor attackers.

And push back they did. The traitor forces weren't able to break through the defenses, much less survive the attack from the defenders. Any traitor that somehow got past the defenses were met with three angry primarchs. In the end, the traitors left, with a large portion of the Sons of Horus being purged.

The Shadow Crusade was an attempt to stop the Ultramarines at their core, with the World Eaters and remaining Emperor's Children entering the 500 World empire, led by Fulgrim and Angron personally. But it was all to Guilliman and Leman's plan. The Ultramarine sorcerers had gathered entire planet populations and sacrificed them to the Chaos Gods to trap the two legions.

Without warning a great warp storm swallowed both the loyalists and traitor forces within Ultramar. The World Eaters and Emperor's Children both hurried to gather together so that they wouldn't be separated and thus easily picked off. During their time there, the loyalists would fight waves of daemons and Ultramarines, all intent on abolishing the two great legions. Angron himself would slay the daemon Samus and a Changer of Ways. Fulgrim would also take down a Changer of Ways, bringing in a new wave of good morale for the troops.

Despite this, it would take a long time for the two legions to escape the Ruinstorm, and they would continuously lose many more men against the traitors. But their saviors would be from a surprising source…

—-

Fulgrim and Angron sat in their thrones, built by Peturabo as a sign of trust and friendship, on board the Emperor's Children's flag ship, the Incorruptible. In front of them was a large platoon of Ultramarines, all of them scarred, wounded, and bloodied. But despite all the efforts by the Librarians and Apothecaries, no corruption was found within them.

Angron leaned forward, Medical servitors analyzing a wound he had gained fighting a wave of daemons on board their ship.

"Why have you come to us, traitors? What do you hope to gain from this interaction?" Angron glared at the weathered warriors in front of him. The leader of the Ultramarines stepped forward, his armor the most damaged out of all his brothers. He looked dead on at Fulgrim and Angron, no fear or nervousness as he spoke.

"I came to you to aid in your escape."

—-

The unlikely saviors were Ultramarines who had been left behind during all the early events of the Heresy, unaware of what had happened to their legion. When the Ruinstorm began, they had protected the population of the planet they were stationed on, but only one small attack cruiser was ever able to leave with survivors. This ship hailed the loyalist ships, and the two forces met.

The Ultramarines revealed that they had learned of a period of openings that the traitors used to leave the storm, and they knew where one such opening was. Led by their new allies, the loyalists absolutely devastated the traitors there, while losing plenty of their own. Upon escaping, the World Eaters and Emperor's Children, with the loyalist element of Ultramarines, would leave for Terra, just in time for the Siege that was about to come.

After the Dropsite Massacre, the Salamander Raids began. Assisted by the Night Lords, the Salamanders began to attack the traitor's flank. Every attack, every invasion, every raid, and every restock had Salamanders with their Night Lord allies flying in and damaging essential ships, if not outright eliminating them. Leman Russ never saw the Salamanders as a threat, and even then he did not. He viewed their attacks as futile and useless in the grand scheme of things. Much to the distraught of Logar, who had personally lost more assets than any other traitor legion, even losing his flagship to the Salamanders.

Eventually Logar had had enough and sent a large detachment of Word Bearers and Imperial Fists to fight off the Salamanders. The battle that would proceed would lead all the way back to Nocturne, where the traitors found an enraged Vulkan. Without Logar or Rogal Dorn, the traitors should have pulled back. But their arrogance proved mightier, and the drop pods were launched.

The battle was brutal on both sides, but the traitors were slowly getting an idea of what they would face on Terra, and Logar would later state just how much the future had been tainted by their arrogance.

"The Salamander Raids should have been one of many alarms for us. Our fools of brothers had tactics they had never used before, weapons were built to fight us specifically, and above all else… They were angry. Combined they would forever overshadow the rage of the Sons of Khorne. A pure and holy rage to drive us all to our knees." -Logar within the Eye of Terror, telling his sons of the Salamander Raids.

Vulkan himself led the Salamanders and Night Lords in fighting off the traitors. And did so he did. The traitors weren't prepared for Nocturne's violent habitats and volcanic nature. The Salamanders were. Again and again the traitors would fall into pits of lava, be devoured by native wildlife, and slaughtered by the locals, who had placed their own traps. Soon, despite exacting a deadly toll of lives, the traitors were forced to leave.

And the Salamander Raids continued.

The Defense of Nostramo was a series of underground battles that sadly no records have been recovered from. Despite this, one record was found later on by a Night Lord librarian. It detailed Raven Guard and Alpha Legion warriors landing near a city close to the Night Lords' main fortress. Night Lords would defend the area with an intensity matched only by World Eaters. No traitor left the planet.

~The Cipher Heresy~
~Siege of Terra~

As the traitors closed in on Terra, raveging the Sol Sector as they did so, the loyalists hurried to build up the defenses of Terra and furthermore, the Imperial Palace. Beautiful statues and paintings were torn down in favor for barricades and turrets, while entire rooms were remade to become armories, medbays, and forges. The Imperial Palace became more like the Imperial Bunker.

—-

Perturabo walked through the bustling hallways of the Palace, directing the reinforcement of the glorious palace he had called home for so long. He walked over to one of the grand balconies, where a squad of Iron Warriors were readying an artillery cannon upon. There he also saw an Imperial Fists helping out, struggling to work with the Iron Warriors' machines. With a silent command, Perturabo asked the Iron Warriors to leave, leaving the Imperial Fists alone with the Iron King.

"L-lord Perturabo, sir!" The Fist exclaimed, dropping to one knee. The Primarch looked down at the marine, and frowned. Not with disappointment, but with sadness. His brother's legion had helped build and fortify the Imperial Palace, making it a grand piece of work. Now they had become disgusting traitors, with very few loyal among them.

"Rise, and tell me your name." Perturabo stated calmly. The Fist stood up, clearly still nervous.

"My name is Orus Poleguard. Sergeant of the 4th Company." He stood upright, clearly nervous but proud of his rank. Perturabo smiled internally. The Imperial Fists were always proud to be Fists. It was something he had admired about them. While he and Rogal Dorn were rivals, Perturabo had come to respect his legion. It was why he came as fast as he could to help them when an Ork WAAAGH had hit his empire.

Sighing, Perturabo placed a hand on Orus's shoulder plate.

"Orus Poleguard. Your legion's name had been damned by the actions of your Primarch, the person who had sole responsibility to keep you and your brothers away from the dangers of treachoury and vile magic of the Warp." He noticed Orus's posture slack a little. But Perturabo smiled.

"But despite that, you and your brothers who have stayed loyal and have assisted us in building and reinforcing the Palace you had helped build, despite our machinations being different from your own. For that I have a new role for you." Handing Orus a powerblade built by the primarch himself, Perturabo also handed him a seal made of pure iron.

"You will lead a portion of my Iron Warriors, Orus Poleguard. For you are my first Iron Fist."

—-

The Loyalist survivors of Istvaan III had arrived not too soon afterwards the main efforts to reinforce the Palace began. They were heartbroken and enraged upon hearing of the events that had transpired since their escape, but they were ready to assist and defend the Palace from their former brothers. And that they did.

All the while, Loyalist forces were being recalled to Terra. No force brought their full might, but they did bring a lot of their forces. Astartes and Guardsmen rushed to their positions and last minute preparations were made. The last to arrive were the Night Lords, Thousand Sons, and Death Guard, their ships damaged but still plenty ready to fight off the incoming fleet of traitors. Magnus the Red also had an intense conversation with the Emperor, but no one knows what was spoken.

—-

Magnus sat in the throne room, the Golden Throne lying dormant as his ritual on Posbero had sealed the Webway. His father stood in front of the throne, the Custodians standing across from him.

"Why close the Webway, Magnus? Now all of humanity will be forced to cross the Warp until a new situation has been found…" The Emperor turned to Magnus. Instead of rage or anger, Magnus saw tired eyes and a curious glint. Magnus sighed.

"If I had let the Webway open, the traitors would have gained access to it, and from what Mortarian, Konrad, and I theorized, the damage they would have done would have destroyed any chance we had of using the Webway. With it instead sealed, I may be able to find a proper way to open it. Though such actions will take time to not only discover but pull off." He looked deep within the Emperor's eyes, the only of his brothers to be able to do so. The Emperor was a being of pure and absolute power. But he was also a man of science and knowledge. The Emperor looked back to the now sealed Webway portal. And smiled.

"So be it. Now, let us deal with more pressing matters." He motioned for his custodians to follow him and Magnus, and the two discussed a grand ritual that could give them the edge.

—-

In an effort to keep civilian casualties as low as possible, the World Eaters and Salamanders were ordered to guard every city and street, and bunkers were made in case the defenders could not keep the traitors out. The loyalist remainders of the Traitors scrambled to assist anyone they could, and every capable guardsmen rushed to the frontlines.

In a final effort to make the Imperial Palace unbreakable, Perturabo, Mortarian, Magnus the Red, and the Emperor performed a ritual and cast a powerful spell across the hallways and hidden tunnels underneath the Palace to become a labyrinth of undivided madness, but only to those not loyal the the Emperor of Mankind. And the spell was put in place just in time.

The Traitors had arrived.

Appearing from the Warp came thousands of attack cruisers, all bearing the flag of the Arch Traitor. And leading the charge was the Space Wolves' flagship, the Hrafnkel, Leman Russ's personal base of operations. Its hull was covered with daemonic runes and red fog floated all around it. It had become a daemon engine, bound to the Space Wolves' will.

The loyalist fleet readied every weapon it had, and the crews onboard prepared to get boarded. For a while, the two fleets just faced each other. But then a shot was fired, no one knew who, but it hit the Traitor's flagship.

And the Siege of Terra began.

The two sides clashed, ships trading blows while drop pods were launched, releasing traitors en masse and loyalists to help reinforce areas that were being attacked. Grand spectacles, heroic sacrifices, and mighty duals spread all across the planet. Every stone, every street, every stair was fought over with vicious intensity. But above all else were the duels between the Primarchs…

—-

Vulkan fought wave after wave of traitors, their corrupted forms bringing tears to his eyes. How far his brothers had fallen to indulge in dark powers that damned their sons. Hopefully slaying the corrupted marines would bring them some sort of true peace.

A shot fired past his head and Vulkan whirled around, his hammer crushing a Raven Guard dreadnought. To his surprise, two mighty beings stood behind him, wearing the armor of Alpharius. But Vulkan just smiled.

"So the rumors were true…" He simply stated, standing upright, his mighty form towering over even other Primarchs. The Alpha Twins looked at each other, their helmets covering their faces, but Vulkan knew they were thinking about the most gruesome way to kill their former brother. Vulkan's Fire Drakes circled around him, facing off the Alpha Twins' honor guard.

And then they charged.

—-

Brother fought brother, son fought son, cousin fought cousin. The battles were everywhere.

But the Traitors were pushing the loyalists back. They took the Space Ports, and the Lion's Gate. And they were closing in on the main walls of the Imperial Palace. But before they could, the Alpha Legion's Primarchs were killed in combat, slain by a mightier Vulkan. As the two were leading the initial charge, the Chaos forces were thrown into true chaos, leading the loyalists to push them back and patch up the walls of the Palace.

Leman Russ's fury and frustration built as more and more mistakes were made. The Raven Guard, manipulated by the drive of Slaanesh, attacked the cities, killing thousands of civilians. Corvus Corax himself led his forces through the streets. Magnus the Red stood in his way though, using his great magic to banish Corvus into the Warp, and even dealt a massive blow to the Raven Guard by summoning a small sun that burnt the shadows the Raven Guard so dearly desired.

Rogal informed Leman Russ that the Siege would take another week before they could possibly break through again. Despite all the loyalist forces on Terra, there were still back up infantry on the way, and Leman knew that if they arrived, he and the Traitors would be crushed under the Imperium's knee. So he decided to end the battle with one blow.

By killing the Emperor.

He took Rogal and Logar with him and landed on the surface, two daemon Primarchs and an ascended Primarch of Chaos leading the forces of Chaos into battle, being heavily reinforced by the Ultramarines and Guilliman. Together they broke through the walls and into the Palace.

What they found though was a labyrinth. In the end, all the Primarchs were separated, with Leman Russ only having himself to face the Emperor.

[Just so readers are aware, the next few pure story sections are going to be the fights between the other Primarchs that were with Leman Russ. Just in case any of you got confused! Okay, back to your reading]

—-

Logar wandered through the now warped palace, statues on the ceiling and doors hiding pure nothingness behind them. While the confusion paled in comparison to the likes of the Lord of Change, it was mighty impressive, even to him.

"Oh dear father, hiding behind lies once again. As you always do…" He kept wandering, Erebus trailing behind him. Suddenly a large chainaxe whirled past Logar's head, and was pulled back by an unknown force. In front of them, fog dispersed to reveal Angron and his Devours. Angron held a grim expression, his chain ax glowing with intense energy. Logar simply chuckled before raising his mace, alight with daemonic fire.

"Oh Angron. You must know that you stand no chance against the likes of me, not now. I have ascended. You have merely learned a new trick." Logar would have rushed forward if Angron hadn't smiled in a way that was new to Logar. Angron was a kind Primarch, never having the Butcher's Nails thrust into his skull like his gladiator siblings. He smiled with kindness and understanding.

Not anymore. His smile was something of grim, dark, cruelty.

"You think I only know a new trick, Logar? Oh on the contrary. Magnus and our father taught us all something we all had deep within us." Angron raised his unarmed hand and suddenly a burst of pure emotion hit Logar and Erebus. Rage, sadness, and disgust built up within the Word Bearer and his Primarch. They fell to their knees, Angron slowly approached them, his hand raised.

"I could always absorb and silence emotions, dear brother. And now I can give them right back. I am channeling all the emotions of my sons into you and your pitiful vile disgusting servant." He raised his axe over Logar's head, looking down with a darkness only seen by Angron's closest friends and brothers.

And swung.

—-

Rogal rampaged forward, crashing through walls and killing any in his way. The plagues of Nurgle allowed him to tank any attack the loyalist fools threw at him. Dreadnaughts, artillery, psychic powers, everything and anything just fell apart around him. He growled in satisfaction, seeing his brother's fortifications fall around him. But the labyrinth that had overtaken the Palace was the one thing that didn't fall, as every hallway simply led to another. Fury built up inside him as he shouted.

"WHERE ARE YOU, PERTURABO? WHERE IS MY SO CALLED BROTHER THE LORD OF IRON?!" The Imperial Fist Primarch kept barging through walls, intent on now slaying his brother. Eventually, after killing thousands of loyalists, he came across a room he recognized.

His old forge. The Imperial Fists flag still stood dormant on the ceiling, his tools and forge silent and dormant. He growled, seeing his former glory in display right in front of him. Suddenly, the forges around him activated, fire roaring to an unheard of degree, even bruning the new Lord of Plagues. Rogal shielded his eyes, a quiet and quick wave of confusion flowing through him. And then a powerful force hit his back, sending Rogal crashing forward. Jumping to his diseased feet and turning around, Rogal finally found his prey.

Perturabo stood before him, armored in a new set of battle plates. In his hand the Lord of Iron held a hammer Rogal had never seen before. But it did not matter. Rogal roared with disgusting force and launched himself forward, his corrupted chainblade and Pain Glove raised to slay his former brother. Perturabo simply stepped aside, allowing the sickened Primarch to fall to the floor. Roaring once again, Rogal Dorn launched himself forward towards his brother. And again Perturabo dodged the attack. This repeated again and again, each time Rogal getting angrier and angrier.

"Why do you dodge!? Don't you see that nothing you can do can harm me?! I have become a true weapon of siege warfare! Something you can never even compare to!" He tried to rush Perturabo, but Perturabo simply caught him and threw him into the ceiling, crashing through it. Rogal crashed into the hallway he found himself in, Perturabo launching himself upwards into the hallway.

"You have turned into a monster, Rogal. A beast that needs to be put down. And I am the one to do just that." Perturabo suddenly slammed his fist into the ground, causing an eruption of bricks, earth, and gears to rush forward Rogal, hitting him with such force he was launched backwards, even his rotting form unable to quickly recuperate from the blow. Rogal tried to stand but in a flash Perturabo was in front of him. Perturabo leaned forward, his helmet whirling with life.

"Time to hear you howl." Perturabo grabbed the Pain Glove on Rogal's arm, fused with his very skin… and pulled.

Rogal did indeed howl, as his entire arm was ripped from his body.

—-

Mortarian walked through the palace walls, tracking the scent of one of his brothers. He knew the smell of the Lord of Ultramar, and was keen to get rid of his traitorous brother. He found Guilliman in the Palace Garden, the only place untouched by the Labyrinth spell. Guilliman held his first captain, Typhon, in his gauntlet, slowly squeezing the life out of his son. Mortarian dashed forward, slamming into Guilliman and releasing Typhon, who crashed to the floor unconscious. Guilliman turned to Mortarian, a dead cold expression written over his face.

"Oh… it's you. I was hoping it would have been Magnus. His psychic power would have been… nice to absorb." Guilliman raised his blade, the cold expression frozen in place. Mortarian raised his scythe Silence in return.

"I don't know what dark god you pledged yourself to, but you and your so-called Ultramarines will not take a single other life today. Not after I defeat you." Guilliman scoffed at Mortarian.

"You? Defeat me? You know such action would require you to have some skill I have never seen. I have analyzed all of us, brother. I know all your tricks." Mortarian smiled under his rebreather. Once, that may have been true. But Magnus had revealed a great secret to all of his loyal brothers. And Mortarian now had the potential to defeat Guilliman. Mortarian let Guilliman attack first, his blade raised and cold stare determined. But when Guilliman struck, all he hit was green toxic fog. Guilliman looked around, confusion now taking hold. Suddenly Mortarian appeared behind him, slashing his back, disappearing again as Guilliman tried to strike the Lord of Death with his gauntlet. Again Mortarian did this, now at Guilliman's side, cutting deep. Guilliman whirled at Mortarian, cold anger written all over. Mortarian blocked the blow before grabbing Guilliman's face and kneeing the Lord of Ultramar in the face, causing the Primarch to stagger back, holding his face. By the time he looked up, Mortarian was already in front of him, Silence drawn. Guilliman tried to block, but Mortarian predicted this and altered the course of his blade…

Slashing Guilliman's hands clean off. Guilliman just looked down in complete shock. Mortarian glared at his brother.

"Try learning that from your patron… brother." Before Guilliman could react, Mortarian kicked him in the gut, sending Guilliman flying, straight off the balcony and down towards the ground, where the Ultramarines fought against the Death Guard.

—-

Leman Russ had been trudging through the Palace, using his chaotic powers to aid him and break through the spells that took control of the Palace halls. Every spell he broke only vindicated his rage.

He eventually made it to the Throne Room, where the Emperor stood with Fulgrim, both warriors ready to fight off the grand Arch Traitor. Leman Russ howled in rage and victory, and launched himself forward, blades drawn and the runes of daemons flowing around him.

Had the Emperor been at full strength, the battle would have been short. But the spell that twisted the Palace had taken much out of him, being the one who had performed the ritual with the majority of his strength, giving it the power it needed. The battle was ferocious, both sides mighty and deadly. But Leman Russ had the favor of all four Chaos Gods, and had nothing left to lose. Thus he was able to overpower the Emperor, tossing Fulgrim to the side to leave for later. But before he could land the finishing blow to his father, Fulgrim rushed forward, screaming hatred and rage towards Leman. He stabbed Leman in the back, going in deep. But it wasn't enough and Leman turned to Fulgim, grabbed the Perfect Son…

And snapped his neck, instantly killing him.

The Emperor, having lost one of his sons to the Arch Traitor, flew into a furious rage, knowing his son was truly and forever lost. Grabbing the distracted traitor lord, the Emperor threw him out the window of the throne room and dashed out behind him, the two clashing in the air. Howls of fury erupted from Leman's mouth, slashing and striking the Emperor. But the Emperor kept the fall steady and fast.

The two crash to the ground, the Emperor's blade plunged straight through Leman's heart. Without hesitation, the Emperor then blasts his son's soul, rendering the once great Primarch utterly and truly defeated.

The Arch Traitor was dead.

The Space Wolves, distraught at the death of their Primarch, left Terra, taking their father's remains with them. As fast as it happened, the news of the Arch Traitor's death flew through the ranks of the Traitors, causing mast paranoia and chaos in the ranks. One by one the traitor legions left the planet, fearing the wrath of the loyalists.

The day was won, but at great cost. Millions of loyalists laid dead, Fulgrim had fallen, and the Emperor was dying. Constantin Valdor and Malcadore rushed the Emperor to the Golden Throne, where Perturabo, Magnus, and Vulkan awaited. The Emperor was placed on the Throne, and once all of his sons were gathered, the Emperor declared his last decrees of law.

The traitors were to be hunted down and destroyed, no matter how long it took. They were no more. And his traitorous sons were no more his sons. They were simply beasts to be hunted.

He also decreed the Warmaster Triad to be the new rulers of the Imperium, and that what they decreed would be law forward. With that, his eyes shut and the Golden Throne activated. His body was dead, but his mind was not. His essences would now forevermore guide the ships through the warp, and lend visions and instructions to those most loyal to him.

Perturabo and Mortarian were the most worried of the roles now thrust upon them, but with the Angel on their side, the two knew that they would help lead the Imperium into a new future. As the old future had been damned into pure absurdity, a new future would be charted. Together with Angron and Vulkan they crafted the Imperial Cult, as Magnus had observed an increase in power from the Golden Throne when people believed the Emperor a god. But they knew if the Imperium was built upon cruelty, Chaos would far easier take hold in the hearts of man, so they built on more principles of compassion and respect.

After that was built and the Imperium was slowly being put back together, the Imperium went on the Scouring, conquering, destroying, or "rewriting" entire worlds that declared themselves loyal to the Traitors. Worlds held like slaves were liberated and repaired.

One of the first acts of the Triad was making a deal with the Alderi, who had been fighting Chaos for as long as Humanity had existed. While distrust and hatred would forever exist, the two sides realized how much better the galaxy would be without the two species at war.

Slowly the Imperium began to once again prosper, but not to the scale that the Great Crusade brought. And slowly enemies of Mankind rose. In an effort to help bring humanity back from the brink, Magnus the Red decided to undergo his own pilgrimage, with Vulkan, Angron, and Konrad Curze both joining him. Each had their own goals in mind, but all united under the singular goal of Humanity survival.

Though their pilgrimage took them far into the stars, only one destination was made within the grasp of the Imperium… was Mars. No one knows what transpired there, but reports state there was a meeting between Magnus the Red, Belisarius Cawl, and Fabius Bile, who had been on Mars to assist with some new apothecary technology which blueprints had been found.

It is now the 41st millennium. The Warmaster Triad struggle to keep up with the threats that surround them, and the Imperial Navy, Inquisition, Mechanicus, Militarum, and Astartes Legions and Chapters struggle to defend their territory, even with the aid of the Aldarei and T'au. Ork WAAAGHS shred through planets, Necrons rise and rampage the galaxy on a twisted crusade, Tyrinaids ravage the galaxy looking for biomass, Dark Eldar raid outpost after outpost, stealing many important resources and documents. And within the Eye of Terror, whispers leak out of a new Wolf Crusade, where the leader of the now Wolf Legion, Bjorn the Hate Hearted, gathers the forces of Chaos under his banner, intent on releasing a 13th raid of pure evil into the Imperium, its eyes set on Cadia. T'au and Alderai pledge their aid in the upcoming attack, but with the forces of Chaos rising ever more, and the surrounding threats covering the Imperium's borders, the Imperium, and furthermore the galaxy, looks to the missing Primarchs, hoping for the return of any one of these great beings…

—-

Typhon stood defiant, his dreadnought frame radiating his potent psycher energy, staring down the forces of Chaos in the form of the Sons of Khorne. The howls of rage and thirst for blood radiated from the once great warriors as they rushed forward. Typhon just glared at them through his frame, raising his iron Pyscher Gauntlet, letting his psychic potential radiate from it. If this was to be his last stand, it would be one spoke for centuries to come.

Before he could bring down his fist, a sudden burst of Warp energy swarmed around the area, causing even the Sons to stop and look around. The sky slowly turned a deep shade of purple as a cyclone of pure energy grew in power in the center of the battlefield. And from came rushing a sight to behold.

Dark Angels, Sons of Horus, Iron Hands, Death Guard, every legion seemed to flow out of the cyclone, each wearing armor once thought to be no longer in action. They descended upon the Sons of Khorne in a vicious rage, tearing them apart. The Sons of Khorne tried to fight back but it was useless. These warriors were skilled beyond comprehension, capable of slaying squads of Terminators with a standard chainblade.

As Typhon watched in amazement, slowly out walked a massive figure. Metal claws, drills, and bolters sprouted from his back, and shining metal arms were exposed, the figure's armor battered and bruised, but the hands clean and scratchless. They wielded a powerful hammer wrapped with the light only seen by the Sister of Battle's Saints. The Figure clashed with the forces of Khorne, slaying everything in their path. Typhon slowly made his way to the figure, intent on figuring out if this entity was friend or foe. But before he could, a deafening roar was heard.

From overhead flew Abbadon the Bloodied, his red wings and a twisted frame that only matched Horus himself. Abbadon landed in front of the figure, growling with frustration.

"WHO ARE YOU, WARRIOR? I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE… AND YET YOU SCREAM OF FAMILIARITY…" The creature spoke with vile words. But the Figure stood silent and simply raised his hammer. Abbadon growled and launched forward. The two clashed, blade and hammer sending shockwaves throughout the battlefield. Typhon could barely stand as the two dualed. The battle edged on and on. But the Figure clearly wasn't giving any ground, while Abbadon was. Slowly but surely the Figure pushed Abbadon back before launching one of his metal hands forward and grasping Abbadon's armor. The armor melt and flowed around the Figure's hand, as if it was a liquid bound to their will. Abbadon shrieked in confusion and rage… but also fear. The Sons of Khorne's armor all began to ripple and bolter rounds and chainblades began to slash through the forces of Chaos, tearing them apart. Abbadon roared with rage and tried to swing his blade once again, but the blade melted and swarmed around the Figure's hand. The figure looked up, and the helmet that once concealed his face melted away, revealing an aged but still defiant face of a once thought dead Primarch…

"I lived, bastard…" Ferrus Manus growled before slamming the daemon prince straight in the face, the fluid metal ripping through Abbadon's skull, killing the daemon prince. The Sons of Khorne panicked and began to retreat, being slaughtered all along the way.

Typhon now could approach the Primarch freely, shock and awe swallowing the ancient warrior.

"Ferrus Manus… my lord? Is it really you?" He said with caution but also hope. Ferrus Manus turned to Typhon, and smiled.

"It is, Thypon. It seems you got yourself caught in quite the situation. But you are indeed lucky, as it appears my final ritual to leave the warp succeeded. Bringing me and my scavenged legion back to the Materium." He waved a hand towards his warriors, some who bowed towards the two ancient warriors. Typhon looked back to Ferrus Manus.

"Who is this legion, may I ask?" Ferrus looked to the legions, both fighting and securing the planet.

"They are my Legion of the Damned."

—-

{And now, a word from the writer…}

HOLY SHIT IT'S FINALLY DONE!
The story of the Cipher Heresy is COMPLETE! HOLY FUCKING HELL! I hope you all liked it as much as I had writing it! I love the Horus Heresy and Warhammer 40k, and while I am STILL very new to this whole thing, I am happy to say that I probably won't be leaving any time soon. And I also wanted to say: I have some… plans for Logar/Erebus *wink wink nudge nudge*

IN THE MEANTIME, as for the future of the Cipher Heresy…

The Codexs are going to be done, but don't expect them to be GOOD. And they will be QUITE slow. And possibly not in order. BUT THAT'S YOUR WARNING XD

Art will hopefully be done as well, and will be posted in batches, as I REALLY don't want to edit the same chapter over and over.

Short stories and such will also hopefully be written, but no promises. I DO plan to expand on the meeting of Magnus the Red, Belisarius Cawl, and Fabius Bile. As it will be VERY important for the Cipher Heresy current timeline.

As for anything else, I honestly don't know! I do hope that this Heresy gets to the same level as the Roboutian Heresy or the Fulgrimian Heresy as those two are probably my favorite Alt. Heresys! And maybe I'll be able to find someone who would be able to get some cool art for the Heresy done, but eh. Art is expensive to get REALLY good stuff. And no AI is NOT on the table, AI is fucking shit. But I hope you liked this as much as I did! If you guys have ANY questions or suggestions to help expand this universe and some characters within it, let me know! I still have a lot of lore to explore, and a lot of characters to play with! So if you have an idea, let me know!

Anyways, thanks for reading, and to the future of the Cipher Heresy!

-Rough Time