"Captain Alexandros, status report. " The Emperor nodded as he stepped onto the bridge, Isha following behind.
"Your Majesty!" The tall, dark-haired woman saluted sharply. "All systems are at peak capacity, and the trip has been entirely smooth so far."
The Emperor nodded. He had already known that, having continued guiding the ship even as he spoke to Isha, but it was always good to make sure.
His conversation with Isha had been…enlightening, he mused, casting a glance at her. Her offer of creating improved Navigators was highly tempting, especially since she had promised to teach him how to create Navigators himself, rather than relying solely on her for it. And the concession she had requested in exchange was not unreasonable.
Still, he had told her he would need some time to think about it. It was prudent to not rush into these things.
But that was for later. They were almost there.
The Emperor focused, concentrating on Cthonia. His son's soul shone ever more brightly, the shadow of Chaos receding the closer the Emperor became.
It was the Sixteenth, the Emperor realized. The child he had shaped in the image of the ideal conqueror, strong and wise, who possessed both the power to crush the monsters that haunted the cosmos and the charisma to bring even the fiercest of enemies into the fold.
But for now, still just a child. Young and innocent.
The Emperor could almost sense the name this child had taken, it was just within his grasp, and ah, there it was.
Horus.
Isha cautiously extended her senses into the Aethyr, doing her best to ignore the burning gazes of the Four. The fear was still there, but…she could not let that fear rule her forever.
And, oh, how it hurt to see the Immaterium like this. Once upon a time the souls of a thousand thousand civilization had shone within the Immaterium, and countless gods, from minor household spirits to the great gods of star-faring empires, had roamed across the Warp.
It had not been peaceful, exactly, there had always been pain and horror, with the Ruinous Powers lurking in the dark corners of the Immaterium, but there had been beauty and wonder as well. Isha's own shining, verdant gardens, filled with her work since all the ages since the War in Heaven. The wild, savage yet beautiful forests that were Kurnous's domains, the worlds of dreams that Lileath had ruled, Vaul's magnificent silver forged, where he had crafted both weapons and wonders alike. The underworld over which Morai-Heg had reigned, overseeing the souls of Isha's children. Even Asuryan's blazing palaces of gold and crimson.
And her children, oh, her children. How she had despaired as their civilization had crumbled after the Sundering, as they desperately called out for their gods, praying not to be abandoned, pleading for salvation, for Asuryan to revoke his Edict.
And how proud Isha had been when they had finally rebuilt, when they had learnt to live without the direct guidance of herself and her family. Even the wars against the resurgent K'nib and Krork that had forged the nascent Dominion more than a million years ago had made her proud, even as she had fretted and worried.
But then, her children had gone mad. And in their hubris, they had destroyed everything. All those countless divine spirits were gone, destroyed or devoured by the Primordial Annihilator, the shining worlds of Isha's children almost all defiled and ruined by their own sins.
No longer did the Immaterium shine with the souls and wonders of all the civilizations that had once roamed the galaxy, for they all had been either broken or destroyed utterly. All the beauty and splendour of the Immaterium had been swept away, replaced only by the madness and ruin of Chaos.
Tamping down on both her tears and her rage, Isha focused determinedly on their destination, trying to ignore the rush of emotions looking into the Sea of Souls had brought on.
Cthonia was a ruined world, even more so than Terra, Isha realized with a pang in her heart. On Terra, there had been some traces of nature left even before she had come. Even the servants of the Four had not managed to eradicate or corrupt every trace of its beauty or life. Terra had been a damaged world, yes, and it still was, but it had still been alive. It had fought back against those who would defile it and thought it had come close to dying, it had not died.
Not so for Cthonia. It was truly a dead world, cold and utterly lifeless, not a trace of nature left. The only life left on the planet were the souls of the humans living amidst the ruin of the glories of their ancestors, and that of rodents and a few farms meant for harvesting food. But even those flickering lights of life were overshadowed by the echoes of the greed, cruelty and suffering that had sunk into this world's very bones.
Save for one. The Emperor's son.
The child's soul shone brightly, warm and pure, the Emperor's mark very clear. There was no doubt this was a demigod. The 'Primarchs' as the Emperor called them, were akin to some of the most powerful champions and avatars that she and her kin had empowered in ages past.
And yet...there was something about the child's soul that suggested there was more, Isha mused with a frown. The child wasn't just imbued with the Emperor's power.
She looked closer and visibly jolted at what she found. Isha could not be certain until she got a proper look at the boy, but if the Emperor had really accomplished what she suspected…
Well, they might need to have another long talk about how he had done it.
"Commencing emergence from the Warp now," The Captain announced. "We should arrive above Cthonia in just a moment."
Isha held her breath as the ship's Warp Drive, aided by the Emperor, opened a portal back into the Materium, and the ship slipped through it once more.
With the heavy weight of the attention of the Ruinous Powers lessened, if not gone, Isha could not help but exhale in relief. They were still watching, but their attention was lessened now, some of it drifting away now that she and the Emperor were no longer within their domain.
And yet, the humiliation of it still burned. Their domains had been her domains once, the Immaterium her home. But as her power had faded, her domains had shrunk, parts of it slowly but steadily chipped away at by Nurgle, others taken over and corrupted as the monstrosity that her children had birthed had gestated…
And here she was now, reduced to a shadow of her former self, fully incarnate in the Materium for the first time, her family all gone, her children broken and scattered. All the rage and sorrow she been trying to ignore came rushing back once more, and Isha's heart screamed for both revenge and the return of her family.
Isha would have her vengeance. She would save the souls of her children, inflict the same humiliation on the Ruinous Powers as they had inflicted on her, would see Slaanesh and Nurgle shattered at her feet. They would pay for destroying her children, for murdering her family.
No matter what it took.
"Lady Isha?" A voice cut her through her thoughts, and Isha looked at the source of the voice, Shield-Captain Juno, only to realize that some of her power had escaped her control, that her eyes were burning green, and that everyone on the deck was staring at her unnerved, that Juno had her spear raised and that the Emperor had tensed, as if preparing to act.
Embarrassed, Isha immediately clamped down on her power once more. The trip through the Immaterium had brought all her rage and bitterness to the fore, and now it might have cost her a great deal of goodwill from both the Emperor and his servants.
"My apologies," She said. "I lost control there for a moment. It will not happen again."
The Emperor's gaze bored through her, and Isha waited, uncertain if he would confine her to the ship's chambers with fresh wards, but ultimately, he just nodded.
"See that it does not." He commanded, before turning away to speak to the captain. "Captain, I, Shield-Captain Juno and Lady Isha will be heading down to the surface. You are to remain here in orbit, and keep an eye out for any potential enemies coming from outside this system."
Isha suppressed a sigh of relief, even as she mentally winced at the nervous looks most of the bridge crew were directing at her, as well as the grim wariness emanating from Captain Juno.
What an excellent way to start their arrival on Chtonia, she thought morosely.
Isha's momentary slip was...concerning, if understandable, but the Emperor put it aside for the moment as they made their way to the shuttle bay, his concern for Horus overriding any other issues for the moment. But it was still something they would have to discuss later.
They entered the shuttle bay, and were greeted by one of the officers, Lieutenant Abella, a man of average height with pale skin and short brown hair.
"Your Majesty," Abella said, bowing. "We are at your service. Is there any of us you would prefer as a pilot?"
"I have no need of a pilot today, Lieutenant," the Emperor dismissed, not bothering to stop his stride towards the shuttles, all of them built according to his personal designs. "I will be piloting the ship myself."
The Lieutenant startled in shock even as he hurried to keep up with the Emperor, but he didn't object. "As you wish, sire." The man said, making an admirable effort to clamp down on his reaction, even as he cast a glance at Juno and Isha behind them. "Is there any specific shuttle you require?"
"This one is fine," The Guardian of Mankind replied, entering the one closest to him, a gilded, golden vessel with the Raptor Imperialis painted on the side in white, large enough to comfortably fit more than a dozen people. "Prepare the shuttle bay for launch."
The Lieutenant saluted and hurried off, as the three of them entered the shuttle and the Emperor ducked into the cockpit, starting the activation of its systems, flicking on various switches and lighting up the hololithic displays. But even as he ran through the familiar procedures, half his attention shifted elsewhere, his mind only distantly noting Isha and Juno settling into their seats.
He was focused on finding his son, as well as the Star Hunters company that had been dispatched to this world. As the Emperor scanned Cthonia, he was pleased to note that his son and the Star Hunters were in the same area, in one of the still functional hive cities, in the northern regions of the planet.
Less pleasing was the fact that it was not far from the Mechanicum's base of operations.
Reaching out, the Emperor focused on the Star Hunters, reaching into the mind of the leader of the company.
"Captain Gamal, report,"
In his mind's eye, the Emperor could see Gamal very clearly, a tall, stern man, with bronze skin and severe features, clad in the customary grey armour of the Star Hunters.
The man had served the Imperium during the war, and had proven to be among the finest recruits of the first Space Marines, but that didn't matter right now, only what he knew. Gamal was standing atop a building, surveying the hive below him as the Emperor connected with his mind.
To his credit, though Gamal flinched in shock at the sudden psychic touch, he was quick to respond.
"Lord Emperor!" He said, giving the mental impression of a salute. "Welcome to Cthonia, Your Majesty."
"Captain," The Lord of Terra acknowledged as he started the shuttle's engines. "Have you found my son?"
He felt a flicker of embarrassment from the Marine as Gamal responded. "No, my lord. We have tracked him to the spire we are currently in, and we have attempted to corner him several times, but he has escaped us. But I am in pursuit of some of his followers now."
"Tell me what you have learned about my son and any obstacles we might have to deal with, then." The Emperor commanded as the bay doors opened at last, and he began guiding the shuttle out of the ship and into the void of space.
Gamal stiffened to attention. "The Primarch is the leader of a surprisingly large gang of, well, children my lord," He began, having clearly prepared the report beforehand, though even so, the previous embarrassment intensified at the world 'children'. "They act primarily as raiders and thieves against the larger, more established gangs, but have been exceptionally successful thus far. Thus, they are wanted by various gang lords who wish to exact revenge for their actions against them, though some of the cannier ones wish to recruit the Primarch and his followers instead. None of them are a threat, however, and I have dissuaded all those who attempted to interfere with our pursuit of the Primarch. But they did slow us down, and I am afraid that we frightened some of the Primarch's followers when they saw us deal with the other gangs. We have tried not to frighten them further, but that has slowed us even more."
Then, Gamal hesitated for a moment. "And my lord, we do have one problem. The Primarch and his followers have raided the Mechanicum Expedition more than once, and they too have a vested interest in locating him and retrieving what was stolen. I have done my best to sabotage their efforts, and we have encountered some of them, but I have not been able to persuade them to abandon their search outright."
The Emperor suppressed a sigh as the shuttle escaped the confines of the ship, and began flying towards Cthonia below. Of course. He should have expected that his son would be a troublemaker. This would have to be handled delicately. Still, Revelation couldn't help the flicker of amusement and pride at the fact that his son and a group of his fellow children were running circles around some of his best Space Marines, as well as Cthonia's gangs and the Mechanicum Expedition.
"I will deal with the Mechanicum once I have found my son," The Emperor replied. "Do not attempt any further negotiations with the Tech-Priests without my permission, but do not allow them near my son either. Attempt to keep casualties to a minimum, but do not hesitate to do what needs to be done. I will be landing soon to locate the Primarch. End your pursuit of my son's followers. Do not come to me, my son will be aware that you have been tracking him and will be warier if you are with me. Simply keep an eye out for the Mechanicum, and do not let them near my location. As for the gangs, if any more of them target my son or his followers, do whatever needs to be done"
Gamal gave a mental salute. "As you wish, sire."
The Emperor gave the psychic equivalent of a curt nod, dismissing the mental connection a moment later and focusing fully on the task of piloting the shuttle.
He itched to simply teleport directly to his son's location, but he doubted the boy would respond well to that. Even teleporting near him might scare the boy, depending on how developed his psychic senses were.
No, this would have to be done the old-fashioned way, no matter how irritating the lack of speed was.
I am coming, Horus, the Emperor thought grimly, his gaze in both the Materium and Warp fixed on the grey skies and dark cities of the planet below. Wait for me.
"The big men have backed off. They're not pursuing us anymore."
"You sure about that, Ez? Those outworlders have been damn persistent so far."
Ezekyle glared heatedly at his partner, but the older teenager was unfazed. Arrec simply raised a golden eyebrow, his brown eyes fearless as he gazed back at the younger boy.
"Don't call me Ez," Ezekyle growled, hating how his voice cracked as he spoke. "And yes, I'm sure. The leader just stopped and stood on top of a tower for some reason, and then he made all of them pull back."
"Hmm," Arrec said. A thoughtful frown crossed his face, a rare expression on the usually cheerful teenager. "I don't like it," He said eventually. "They've been trying to catch us all for days, giving even Horus trouble and now they've just stopped? Something is going on."
"Yeah," Ezekyle admitted. He had had the same thought. "Should we keep an eye on them, see what they do?"
Arrec's frown deepened as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. "Maybe. But these outworlders are strange. I don't think we'll learn anything they don't want us to. I think we should go see the boss. Horus will be able to figure out more than we can."
"Yeah, but what if they follow us back to Horus?"
"We don't have a choice," Arrec countered, lighting the cigarette. "We can't just stay out here. We're almost out of money, and even if the new outworlders aren't breathing down our neck anymore, the other gangs and the Mechanicum are. Staying away from Horus won't do us much good. And we won't be able to avoid getting captured much longer either. It's taken every trick that the boss came up with to not get caught, and even then, we've barely escaped."
Ezekyle scowled. Arrec was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He hated the idea of leading an enemy straight to their boss.
But staying away wouldn't do much good either, especially when they were on the verge of being captured anyway.
"Fine," Ezekyle grumbled. "Let's go back."
Arrec nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette.
They made their way through the city, through the winding roads below the towers of black steel and glass with flashing neon signs, doing their best to blend in with the crowds scurried beneath omnipresent grey clouds, masked against the chemical taint that hung heavy in the air.
It was nothing out of the ordinary. The factory they were passing by was pumping who knew what into the air, like a thousand other factories on Cthonia, and there were workers queuing at the doors, all of them haggard and pale, but with no choice but to do the work that the gang demanded.
Others were walking around as always underneath the neon lights of the buildings. Street kids hustling for money, civilians shopping for prosthetics and implants, drug dealers selling their wares, cripples begging on the street…
There was a sharp stench in the air as they passed a shop, different from usual, which Ezekyle recognised as the smell of a failing atmo-filter. It would probably kill everyone in the building when it went. It wasn't his problem. Either the people who ran the shop would fix it themselves, or they would die.
This was how Cthonia had always been, as Ezekyle had known it from birth. This city was little different from where he had grown up.
But there was an air of tension that wasn't usually there. And it was because of the new outworlders, the so-called Space Marines.
They were so different from the Tech-Priests, who usually didn't care what anyone on Cthonia did as long as they stayed out of their way, and on the rare occasion they wanted something, they'd either pay for it or just take it.
The new outworlders didn't do that, Ezekyle thought, as he casually broke the fingers of a kid who tried to pickpocket him without even looking down. They had focused on looking around, asking strange questions and hunting for Horus. They had even brutally smashed some of the other gangs on Horus's tail, like the Sokolovs, who had ruled this region just a week ago.
The Sokolovs had been hunting Horus, and the outworlders had asked them to turn over all their information to them and stop their search.
When the Solokov boss had laughed in their face, the outworlders had killed him and his lieutenants and burned his base to the ground.
Ezekyle shivered slightly at the memory. He had watched them do it, and even from a distance, those grey giants had been terrifying, just three of them ripping apart the dozens that the Solokovs had thrown at them. He hadn't even been able to see them move. They'd just been white blurs cutting through the ranks of the Solokov as if they were nothing.
The worst part was that they couldn't figure out why the outworlders wanted Horus so badly. Not even the boss could figure it out.
Things were on edge, and Ezekyle didn't know when they'd go back to normal.
Horus would take care of it, Ezekyle assured himself. There was nothing that could stop Horus. He was the closest thing to a god that Cthonia had, and unlike those old, fake stories, he was real.
When Ezekyle had been younger, he'd asked his father why the gods let Cthonia be the way it was, why they didn't do anything to help.
"Because the gods are angry, boy," The old bastard had replied. "They're angry that Cthonia is ruled by scum and not by us. We're the blood of the gods, boy, and when we conquer this world, they will show us their favour."
Ezekyle had believed it wholeheartedly at the time, because he had been a fool who didn't know that his father was even more of a fool. Now, he couldn't help but think it had all just been children's stories. All gods were stories. None of them had ever actually come down to do anything on Cthonia. The Old Gods that the Abbadons claimed descent from, the Dragon King worshipped by the Ormr, the Machine God of the Mechanicum outworlders...all of them were useless.
But Horus was real. He was faster and stronger than a dragon, smarter than the most cunning gang lords and with more charm than all the other people on Cthonia put together. He looked like he had walked straight out of one of those old legends they told children, but unlike those childish tales, Horus actually existed.
He couldn't have been more different from Ezekyle, with his skinny frame, his scarred face and the scowl he was always wearing. It was honestly hard to believe that Horus was younger than him. It had taken months before Horus had convinced him that it was the truth, and not some joke.
But for all their differences, Ezekyle had never doubted his decision to join up with Horus. It had been after he had accidentally killed his father and been forced to flee from his gang. He had been all alone, starving, on the run, hunted by the rest of his old gang, when Horus found him.
Horus had taken him in, had given him a place to belong again. And Ezekyle knew, without a doubt, that Horus was more than just another ganglord. It was impossible not to. Not with the presence that Horus emanated at all times. He wasn't human, he was something else. Something that didn't need to pretend to have the blood or favour of a god.
"Hey, kid, stop brooding, we're here."
Ezekyle snapped out of his reverie and glared at Arrec, though the older boy remained infuriatingly unfazed as they entered an alleyway between two tall grey buildings, both rusted ruins, but old ones that had stood for centuries.
The alleyway was littered with rocks and debris from the ruined buildings, and even a corpse, Ezekyle noticed with some disgust. Someone had dumped a dead body here recently, just a few metres away from them. The stench of the rotting corpse and blood hadn't been noticeable through the usual blanket of bleaching agents and industrial waste from a distance, but now it was close enough for them to smell.
But the two of them ignored the corpse, picking their way through the debris, careful not to trip over anything. If they did, the jagged rocks and fragment of rusted steel would probably be lethal.
Finally, once they were deep into the alleyway, Ezekyle walked up to the building on the left, running his hands across the wall as Arrec kept a wary watch out. After several moments, Ezekyle found what he was looking and pressed it, and an entire section of the wall slid away.
The two of them hurried in, with Ezekyle quickly sliding the wall shut by pressing a panel on the right wall. They entered a dimly lit hallway, a staircase at the end leading downwards.
And down they went, walking in the weak, flickering orange light until they reached a steel door, one with a single slit in the middle.
Arrec knocked on the door. "It's us, let us in."
"Password?" A high-pitched voice asked.
"Alpha-Night-Wolf-King." Arrec replied, as Ezekyle tapped his foot impatiently.
"Password accepted," The voice replied, and the door slid open, revealing a small, dark haired girl dressed in a leather jacket, shirt, skirt and knee-high boots, all black, standing behind it. "Welcome back, guys."
"Alyssa," Arrec nodded, though Ezekyle ignored and her strode into the room. "How are things?"
"Mostly fine, Boss is making a plan to deal with the outworlders." Alyssa replied as Ezekyle looked around the room, ignoring Arrec and Alyssa's small talk.
It hadn't changed much since he had been here a week ago, not that he had expected to. It was a vast room, more cavern than hall, the walls painted jet black with with red highlights and the whole space illuminated by white fluorescent lights runing across the length of the ceiling, high above them.
Most of the others were milling around, some playing card games, some of them eating at the tables that had been laid out near the left wall, some tinkering with this or that. Several of them looked up, curious at Ezekyle and Arrec's entrance, but didn't come closer, only casting glances in their direction.
Towards the right, and deeper into the room, there were their trophy cases, the best things they'd ever stolen. The prize gun of the now-dead Solokov gang-lord, a family sword owned by the Higurashi Gang who ruled the next region, a large laser rifle taken from the Mechanicum's Tech Guard…each and every one of them made Ezekyle grin at the sight of them.
Further along was the armoury and vehicles, also consisting mostly of things they'd stolen. But before Ezekyle could reminisce on them, he was distracted.
"Ezekyle, Arrec! It's good to see you both."
Ezekyle turned his head to the source of the voice and grinned as he saw his boss, Horus.
Horus was more or less the same height as Ezekyle himself, though much broader and more muscular, in a way that no child should have been. His scruffy dark hair flowed down to his neck, clearly having not been cut in some time, and Horus was wearing a knee length silver coat over a black shirt, black trousers with a matching silver belt and boots, and fingerless black gloves. As he came closer, everyone stiffened to attention and watched him closely, their leader's presence drawing everyone's attention away from what they'd been doing.
Horus was beaming as he came forward to them. "I knew you two could do it," He said with a grin. "If anyone could shake off those outworlders, it would be you two."
At this, Ezekyle's smile faded somewhat, which Horus noticed, raising an eyebrow. "What? Is something wrong?"
"Well, you see, boss, we didn't shake them off." Ezekyle said, chuckling slightly nervously. "They let us go."
Horus's grin vanished, replaced by a frown. "Tell me everything," He said, his expression intense now.
"Well…" Ezekyle reluctantly began to explain, not particularly eager to confess how they had struggled not to get caught by the outworlders. But it had to be done.
For several moments Horus absorbed the story of their difficulties silently, before nodding sharply once Ezekyle finished. "Don't worry, I have a plan."
Ezekyle smiled, and he could feel the atmosphere lighten as Horus spoke. Of course he did. Horus always had a plan, and Ezekyle was sure he'd solve their problems soon.
There was nothing to worry about.
Author's Note: My apologies for the long wait. I realized I'd gotten complacent with the writing of this fic, and needed to do better, so this chapter has gone through several overhauls and rewrites. The last section also fought my quite a bit, and I'm not quite sure I got the post-apocalyptic cybperunk vibe I was going for, but it's as good as I can make it.
On young Abbadon, the wiki states that he was recruited by the Space Marine after killing his father, 'the mightiest warlord of Cthonia', but that makes no sense given the recruitment ages for canon Space Marines, so I've decided to fudge it a bit.
Finally, a huge thank you to my beta Anzer'ke for helping me with this chapter.