Chapter 10
The Emperor can not delay anymore. The warp storms are right on top of them, touching the atmosphere. He must abandon ship. They have already lost the cruisers and He ordered the last troopships to land as well. All that remains is the Arica Dominus, the majestic Battleship that has been in His service for thousands of years. It pains Him to think it will be lost in the warpstorms.
He is still tempted to ram the thing into the planet, as a last effort to inflict as much damage as He can to these chaos god wannabees.
But, His sons is what He has to worry about. Even if He won't survive whatever He will face on the surface, someone must still spread the Imperial Truth. So, His remaining sons will stay on the ship, face the storms with their gellar field and raw psychic powers. Hopefully they can exit the warp somewhere, anywhere. It is sad to think it has come to this. But what must be done must be done. They can't allow this planet to survive, to be used as a Daemon world by these sandworms and fullfill their heinous act of ascending to godhood. The spice melange needs to be destroyed as well, all of it.
Meanwhile The Emperor will meet Paul 'Muad'Dib' Atreides, His son. If he truly is.
Through short, distorted transmissions He has heard what Horus and Paul attempt to do, and what it will take to achieve it. He can help them, His presence alone could lure the worms to where they want them to go.
"Prepare My vessel," He commands. Only 1 shuttle is worth of Him, always reserved when He leaves the ship. The rest can use drop pods. It stands ready as He goes into the shuttle bay. His remaining sons are waiting for Him.
"Roboute. You are in charge now, keep this vessel in space, keep it whole, stay alive. That goes for you 3 as well, Mortarion, Fulgrim, and Perturabo."
"Father, I have concerns. This not tactically sound," Perturabo says. He has perfect tactical skill, only rivalled by his knowledge of history and technology.
"I too must implore you to stay here and not walk the surface of that infernal world. The spice melange..." Fulgrim adds. Fulgrim with his obsession with art and culture, looking at the time after the great crusade, to build a splendid civilization once all of humankind is united. Fulgrim would indeed be a great loss to mankind should he perish.
The Emperor raises a hand, instantly silencing them. Mortarion and Guilliman also seem to want to say something as their eyes dart around the room, but they remain silent. Mortarion, primarch of the Death Guard, has always been known for his quiet and brooding nature. A perpetual state of mourning seems to haunt him wherever he goes, and it is evident in the way he carries himself.
On the other hand, Guilliman, the primarch of the Ultramarines, is a man of many words and second only to Horus in terms of rank. But what sets him apart from his brothers is his unwavering sense of honor and integrity. He is a born leader, and his tactical mind is unparalleled among his peers. He wears his armor with pride, and the symbols of the Imperium and Ultramar are emblazoned on his chest plate.
"I respect your concerns, Fulgrim, Perturabo. But I will be fine from the spice and any chaos on the surface. I will bet it is safer for me on the planet than up here, where we are in danger of being consumed by the warp storms," He says. It is always bad to be consumed in taken into the immaterium rather than enter it out of your own will. He wills Himself on to that world, He is safer.
"Of course, Sire." Fulgrim says as The Emperor walks past them, patting each on the shoulder, touching His helmet to theirs. He loves them, they know that, He must show He trusts them, so they can work on their own or together without Him to cleanse the universe further, to advance the holy crusade across the milky way whilst He will work further to permanently rid humanity of all chaos. When the crusade is over, humanity will be free. But first, He must find His sons, and another lost to Him may have been found. He must see him for Himself, hold him, touch his mind. Then He will know if the search has once again shortened and the day of absolution has come nearer.
"I leave now. Farewell." He says as He enters the shuttle that takes off immediately.
Now for the first time He sees Arrakis with His own eyes, not through a screen. Its surface has changed dramatically since they had arrived. Where first the surface was yellow and white, calm and serene, now it was grey and red, with heavy black clouds rolling around, mixed with sandstorms to create giant waves of what appears to be rolling lava across the surface. Warp storms are licking the planet all over, especially at the north pole, where the city lays. He orders to set course for the city, feeling His sons are mostly there, and His potential newly found son on his way.
Underway He is having great difficulty keeping the shuttle stable through the storms. They are relentless, like the most turbulant days of the age of strife.
He has no communication with the outside universe. All He knows is that His beacon within the warp, the Astronomican is still active, able to guide others through the immaterium.
But, if these storms close up and overwhelm them, the beacon might be disrupted. If that happens, the Empire collapses. Everything will collapse. He can't allow that. If only He had the time to start His program to replace the Astronomican. But He needs to find all his sons first.
Focussing on the planet as they are coming closer The Emperor can feel His individual sons down below, at work.
Magnus and Sanguinius are using their psychic powers together to suppress the chaotic influence of the Immaterium on the planet. The Emperor can sense their presence and their psychic energies are radiating red and gold respectively. Magnus' power seems to be a bit stronger than Sanguinius, but not by much. Their ability to increase their psychic power in a dangerous and uncertain situation shows great character, especially in Magnus. Sanguinius, on the other hand, has a more focused mind and a purer psychic energy. Both of them are considered to be amongst the best psykers among the sons of the Emperor. Magnus and Sanguinius are together, their glows in The Emperor's mind radiating red and gold respectively. Magnus' glow is a lot brighter than that of Sanguinius, although not by much. They appear to be trying to use their psyker powers to surpress the chaotic influence of the Immaterium on the plant, dangerous and uncertain, but bold and ambitious. Their increase in psyker power shows great character, Magnus especially. Sanguinius's powers are a lot purer though, his mind more in focus with his body and soul than Magnus. They are amongst the best psykers of His sons.
Leman Russ is not a powerful psyker; his glow is a dim blue, indicating that he possesses limited psychic abilities. He is stationed in the north, where he combats the increasing power of Chaos spawns. The Emperor admires Leman Russ for his skills in close combat; his fighting style is easy to understand. The Emperor has watched his son fight many times and has witnessed his increasing ferocity, skill, and power. Leman Russ is immune to the effects of Chaos psykers, as he has developed a shield against them, fueled by almost a hatred for them, the Emperor knows.
Then, the Emperor's attention is drawn to the center of the city, where two more minds reach out to Him. The first is Vulkan, whose green glow shines as brightly as his brother's light gray glow beside him. The second is Rogal Dorn. These two are the champions of the people - empathetic, compassionate, and idealistic. They fight back to back, holding off hordes from all sides, drawing their attention to themselves and away from anyone else. They are willing to fight until their last breath. The Emperor raises His head in honor of them.
Lorgar is nearby, fighting in his own unique way with zeal and pious determination. He is the true cleanser of the unclean and the scourge of chaos. Although his religious beliefs may be a source of pain for the Emperor, he cannot deny that Lorgar's dedication to destroying heresy is an inspiration to all, even to Himself.
The golden aura of The Lion is now palpable. He is the xenos slayer, the killer, the predator. Although he may be the Emperor's first creation, he is also the most single-minded of them all. He loves to kill, as he is showing on this planet, causing death all over, even if it is only chaos daemons and their slaves. His unstoppable nature in this state is the only reason why he is not The Emperor's favorite to take over. No, that position belongs to only one, Horus, the general.
Horus's purple aura is racing over the surface, a large glow that is white at the center. Horus, the first son He found. So proud He was, so relieved and reassured. He feels nothing but love to Horus, who has shown time and time again to be the true face of the crusade. Already shown many times to be fully capable of leading the crusade himself. His devotion to him is unmatched by his brothers.
Next to the fast moving aura of Horus is a larger light brown aura, Paul Atreides. Larger by much, The Emperor notices. It is also impossible to read. Can't read his thoughts, can't communicate with him through His psychic powers.
This troubles The Emperor. Is he truly that powerful a psyker? Or are the ruinous powers at play here? Has he been corrupted, or is he truly able to resist the corruption?
These are question He needs answers to, fast. But first they must save the planet.
They are on a landing trajectory now, right into one of the squares of the city, in the thick of it. He will show His sons what it is to fight again, it's been too long.
The shuttle lands, blasting with bolters and plasma weapons in a 360 degree arc, to allow the Emperor a dignified exit.
The door opens. The Emperor draws His sword. Its flames ignite as His psychic powers take a hold of it. With it, nobody matches Him in physical combat, not even a greater daemon, possibly not even a chaos god. Cultists run away screaming at the sight of Him and the flaming sword, mad with fear, as He exits the pod and touches ground on Arrakis. The lesser daemons can do nothing but cower and quiver as the Emperor approaches and cuts them down.
He dons a full body armor of radiant gold, representing His unwavering strength and protection. His pure heart is symbolized by the white cloak He has chosen to wear. His helmet encloses His head in a sacred and hermetic seal, protecting Him from the corrupting effects of the spice melange. He relies on His psychic powers to deflect the harmful substance, but He cannot leave anything to chance. He knows that the corrupt nature of the spice melange can destroy His psychic mind and tear apart the galaxy.
With His sword and followers by His side, He faces any obstacle with unyielding determination. He is a beacon of hope, inspiring all those who follow Him to stand strong against the forces of darkness. As He battles the daemon spawns, He sees one of His sons approaching, ready to join Him in the fight. Together, they will overcome any challenge and emerge victorious.
"Rogal, my son." He says. Rogal bows deeply, The Emperor begs him to stand and stay alert.
"We are in the middle of combat my son, don't forget that." He says, Rogal nods. In these conditions they throw out formalities and courtesies. This is a time for sweat and blood.
"Tell of what has transpired." The Emperor says as Space Marine troops from all around start gathering around His presence, the noises of combat seeming to disappear over the horizon.
"The worms plans are coming into fruition My Liege. Their plans have been revealed to us too late I am afraid. This planet is doomed. We must evacuate you My Emperor, you are in danger here." Rogal says.
"Nay, Rogal. Their plans are devilish and clever but I sense their own arrogance in spreading their corruption has undone them at the same time. The Fremen have a plan and Horus has helped carry it out. It might work.
We must first halt Magnus and Sanguinius in their attempt to counter chaos with psychic powers. They will only make it worse. I require the presence of them and Lorgar, call upon them. Horus is on his way with the one they call "Muad'Dib". I will speak with him and then we will decide the fate of this world." He says. Rogal doesn't hesitate and runs off to find Lorgar. The Emperor Himself will contact Magnus and Sanguinius telepathically and implore them to stop. The astartes meanwhile will protect him whilst He is busy.
Making the connection is as easy as blinking. Maintaining it during this struggle, with the warp storms, that is the hard part.
He feels Magnus first, his red aura deep and dark. Magnus responds immediately.
"Father!" He exclaims, shocked to find his father on the planet. Sanguinius connects as well, they are now 3 seperate presences in the void, connected strongly through His mighty mind. Immediately their minds relax, their connection beocmes more stable and broad.
"Father! You have arrived! The warp storms have approached the atmosphere then?" Sanguinius asks. The Emperor grunts.
"They have, My sons. There is a plan at work. Cease your attempts at using psionic attacks immediately, you're only making the warp rifts grow broader. Soon a greater daemon might come through. Horus is on his way, the plan will be explained when he does." The Emperor says, His will unwavering. Sanguinius nods and backs down. He sees Magnus hesitate however, a frown on the great magnificent red face. But he too ceases. The Emperor concentrates to undo what Magnusand Sanguinius were doing, severing the connections in the quantum state that they had developed to counter it. The Emperor remembers the sequences and patterns, they might come usefull later, with his other project.
"Excellent. Astartes. Forwards!" He yells, drawing his sword as he comes out of his meditative state. In front of them the city lays and the daemon hordes that are keeping it hostage.
The space marines surge forward, isnapired by The Emperor's words. The go over the daemon hordes like a wave. It is sensational, awe-inspiring. Even the Emperor, for one moment, feels like this will turn the tide right here. But the waves of daemons and slaves are limitless. The rifts are only getting more numberous and bigger every minute.
But He feels Horus has arrived at the edge of the city with Paul Atreides. They are on the other side of the city though. They will have to cut their way through. The city will be left lifeless hen this is over The Emperor fears. Perhaps the Fremen will stay alive though, able to hide in the sietches, the ones that are left.
The Emperor feels the chaos wave over the lands, over the sands, the worms are responsible. They are ready for the planet to break.
As they pas the center of the city they encounter the biggest rift yet and what The Emperor feared has come true. A greater daemon of Nurgle has come through. This is the beginning of the end. This creature will accelerate the demise of the planet, soon the warp storm will consume this world and turn into a daemon world forever, trapping everyone on the surface inside the warp. Including the daemons who will either be consumed by the newly risen chaos gods or become their slaves, to be molded into their liking.
"Cut it down!" He yells as He points His sword at the foul abomination before Him. It is a huge monster with a bulbous body, wide mouth, straight horns and an enormous sword larger than the Emperor in its hand. It is sluggishly moving through the street, swarmed by lesser daemons around it.
The astartes are on top of it though, they have the flamethrowers up front, burning all the plague ridden daemons and cultists they see. They are very susceptible to fire, daemons of Nurgle. Right after the flamethrowers marines charge up with chainswords in their hands, cutting a clear path to the greater daemon. The Emperor lunges at it with His flaming sword.
His speed and vigour is unmatched, the thing can't possibly dodge. But it tries to repel Him with some foul odour, some bile starting to ooze out of several disgusting orifices it has around its abdomen that spreads thick and intoxicating gasses which are poisonous, corrosive, radioactive and flammable seperately or at the same time.
The Emperor ignores them though, cutting through the monster as the corrosive gas starts eating at his armor, very slowly. He cuts deep, slides along the creature's terrible body and lands on the green, slightly fluorescent goo dripping out of the thing. His boots start sizzling as He raises his head to look at the monster and where He slashed it. His sword cut down right between the eyes of the thing, deep enough to hit anything that might still be vital to this wretched, undead being, cutting down to its wide, grotesque mouth. It seems to have frozen in mid-yawn, shudders for a bit and then collapses in on itself like a hot air balloon that has given in to gravity.
The Emperor towers over the retreating daemons surrounding the area, his imposing presence causing them to shudder in fear. His sharp eyes detect the warp rift ahead of Him, where the greater daemon had earlier slipped through. The creature's defeat has caused the gap in reality to start closing. The Emperor raises His sword towards the rift, the weapon glowing with a bright energy that surges towards the rift. The rift appears to be losing cohesion, likely due to the will of the greater daemon that had kept it open dissipating with the creature's defeat. The collapse of the rift is imminent. Even the daemons, who earlier hovered around the area with an air of invincibility, are now running back into the rift to avoid being trapped here with the Emperor and no way out. It's evident that not even the daemons like those odds, and their frantic retreat is a testament to the Emperor's power and dominance. The realm of the daemons is no match for the might of the Emperor.
"My Emperor!" He hears one of the astartes yell. He turns. In the distance He sees Horus and Paul Atreides approach at reduced speed to trample and slash at cultists and daemons alike as they enter the city, or what is left of it.
Finally He will see what is the truth behind everything.