The scouring
To say that the siege of Terra was a pyrrhic victory would be to put things mildly. The Emperor himself was gone, his body was never found after confronting Augustine at the end of the siege. Only the dead body of the Ever-chosen was found inside of the Imperial palace. What happened between the two was unknown, as was the fate of the Emperor. Some said that he was dead, his body vaporized in a last ditch effort to slay the Ever-chosen. Others claimed that he transcended reality and into another plan altogether. Still more claimed that he was still out there somewhere, waiting for the chance to return.
Both Malacador and Valador seemed to believe in the last option, choosing to depart soon after the siege to try and find him. They would issue final orders before they left, leaving cryptic instructions for the Custodes and Assassins respectively. With them gone, overall command fell to Sobek as he was still the Warmaster. Under his orders the reconstruction efforts would begin as more and more Imperial forces mustered in the Sol.
It had become readily apparent that many traitors were still at large throughout the galaxy in spite of the disaster on Terra. Therefore, a new call to arms would be required to uproot them and prevent them from posing any further threat. The loyalists poured out of the Sol system like a tsunami, liberating world after world and system after system from the predations of Chaos. The loyalists fought with a fury and anger never before seen or anticipated. Wherever the forces of Chaos were found, they were slaughtered without remorse, nor quarter given.
The forces of Chaos were splintered and prone to infighting, so most were isolated and easy to pick off. Others however put up fierce resistance, such as the Silver swords who held onto six hive worlds in the Pyraxis system. There thousands of traitor Astartes and trillions enthralled to Slaanesh fought to the last, engaging in debaucherous acts to earn the favor of Slaanesh. The youngest goddess answered their prayers and the worlds were sucked into the void, costing many loyalist lives as well as they tried to flee the system.
There were many battles, skirmishes, and campaigns fought during this dark period of blood, vengeance, and fury. While many of these conflicts have been lost to history, a few remain in one form or another, either preserved in data vaults or in near mythic fables. Here's but a brief overview of that chaotic era.
(Notable campaigns during the scouring)
(The first war of Iron)
Another significant pocket of resistance was the Ruzk system, home of the Iron drakes. It and the surrounding systems had been fortified for quite some time, even before the siege of Terra, as if they were preparing to fight their fellow traitors should they have won and toppled the Imperium. If that was the case, an entirely different foe awaited them as nearly fifty thousand
Forge Hammers invaded the system with their Mechanicus allies, eage to avenge their Primarch and the destruction wrought on Mars.
They encountered yet more tech heresy on a grand scale, as the worlds of that system were twisted into demonic and technological horrors of nearly unimaginable scale. Hordes of lesser never-born grafted into vaguely humanoid shells called "chaos androids' ' assailed them alongside swarms of malefic nano machines, insane daemonically possessed servitors, and other, less easily classifiable monstrosities. What ensued were dark and bitter battles which tested even the mettle of the stoic second legion. Seeing the sorry state of the enslaved populace enraged even their dulled empathy.
Surprisingly enough, Ruzk itself was spared from these horrors. Instead, the world was clean, efficient and prosperous. Beautiful cities filled with art, culture, and works of technology that rivaled the dark age at its height, sprawled across the surface of the world. It was almost a picture of the grand uptopias that men dreamed for millennia, a symbol of what mankind could achieve should it aspire to do so. But such beauty and majesty couldn't save it from the wrath to come.
Ruzk
The sight of this world disgusted him, it offended him down to his very core. His twin hearts beating in furious anger as he thought of all the death and destruction the Iron drakes had unleashed on the galaxy in the name of this, this facade, this ruse of civilization and progress those bastards preached and pontificated for. All those monstrosities they built, all those oaths they broke, all the holy technology they desiccated to build and maintain this lie.
He wasn't sure how deep the rot and lies of warp had seeped into the population here, the tens of billions milling about in these fancy cities. In the end he supposed that it didn't matter, for the world itself was corrupted, fueled by the daemonic energies detached deep beneath the surface. To think that this was their vision of the future, a fragile, gilded refuge resting upon the gates of hell itself. They were all madmen and fools, dabbling in secrets and lies best left forgotten who were arrogant enough to believe that they could master the realm of madness itself.
His name was Demeterius, first captain of the Forge Hammers, the self-titled "Old bastard" for he was among the first chosen to become more than a mere man. Today, he will finally have the full vengeance that has gripped him for so long, vengeance for Mars, vengeance for Terra, vengeance for his gene father Argentum, and vengeance for his brothers. Unlike so many of his brothers, he never saw the need to dull his emotions with the cold calculations of logic, instead he allowed himself the full and terrible range of feelings that his cousins possessed.
Many within the legion looked down at him for this, suspecting him betraying the creeds of Mars. In reality however, he followed them on a level that they could never understand, for is not the body a machine in and of itself? Is not the mind a cogitator more mysterious and wonderful than
any other? Indeed he pitied his brothers now, for their dull hearts could barely understand the savage joy that he was about to experience, tearing this world to shreds and exposing this farce.
The ensuing battle was more of a slaughter than any traditional campaign. The Iron drakes were heavily outnumbered and the orbital defenses were overwhelmed quickly by Shadow Warrior and Eagle Warrior scouts who infiltrated the installations while their cousins kept the defenders busy. Rather than annihilate the world from orbit, Demetrius advocated for a different approach. In a rare move more motivated by wrath than pure logic, they descended to the surface to enact vengeance personally.
The population, mostly composed of citizens who had little training or even knowledge of the events of the wider galaxy, for the vast majority were kept in the dark about anything happening outside of their nearly perfect world. Ignorance of the master's crimes did little to endear them to their invaders, who refused to accept their pleas for mercy. Only a select few civilians managed to escape their wrath, fleeing using experimental and temperamental technology, or other less savory methods of travel. The escape of these desperate individuals would come to haunt the Imperium, for unhinged genius and vendettas make for a dangerous combination.
News of this unmitigated slaughter would eventually spread to the wider Imperium, further distancing the second legion from some of their cousins. The slaughter of the population and eventual destruction of Ruzk itself would be the final ember that would spark the seemingly eternal struggle between the two legions, as they would remain mortal enemies for the next ten millennia. Entire systems, and even clusters have been lost to this bitter feud as this was but the first of many conflicts, dubbed the "wars of iron".
(The breaking of the Iconoclasts/the first jihad)
As the loyalist forces advanced from Terra, the Golden Caliphate were amongst the most eager to do so. They were often the vanguard, leading the charge with a zeal unseen by their cousins. Some blamed this impetuous behavior due to the Iconoclasts having fled the siege before it's conclusion and thus robbed the sons of the Prophet from exacting revenge for their lost brothers, friends and family on their homeworld of Ka'hih.
The intensity of this pursuit led them to outpace many of their allies. As they ventured into traitor occupied territory, evidence mounted of another force having carved through the traitors with reckless abandon. The truth would soon be revealed when the Caliphates traveled to the Golgotha wastes, led by the psychic visions of the Prophet. There they found a cluster of systems given to anarchy and in fighting. The Iconoclasts had apparently turned on their traitorous former allies, slaughtering all who deemed lost to the ruinous powers and all signs of the divine being destroyed.
The Iconoclasts were trying to set up their own civilization, one free from the rot of Chaos and the Imperium as well. It was going to be a realm of science and reason, free from the predations of the warp. That dream of independence died as soon as the Caliphates entered the cluster and exacted revenge. Attempts were made by some to stop hostilities and settle the campaign diplomatically, but the zealotry of the Caliphates couldn't be contained.
The campaign spiraled out of control, far beyond even the Prophet's ability to contain or restrain. Despite his protests and some from those more level headed amongst them, world after world fell in bloody conflicts, numerous atrocities committed by both sides. Surprisingly enough, Theomaxos was nowhere to be seen during the campaign, even as the advantage turned decisively in the Caliphates favor.
As the campaign went on, the Iconoclasts became increasingly more unhinged and fatalistic. The fighting became less tactical and more spiteful, as if both sides seemed to only care about the death of the other. Eventually the Iconoclasts were broken in a series of battles over the forge world of Volunder. Their senior leadership devastated and all hopes of building their own realm dashed, the legion fled into the maelstrom. The Caliphates would then secure the remaining worlds, hunting down rumors of the missing Primarch until they tracked him down on the moon called Anslem. The Prophet would choose to descend and investigate the situation himself, taking only a single squad of veteran Marines with him.
The surface of Anslem
Khalid sighed as he trekked through the ruins of a once populated city from the looks of it. The architecture was magnificent, polished white marble that would have accentuated the aesthetic against the heavily forested surroundings. But now such beauty seems to have been wasted, for its people were long gone, either deserted or dead he didn't know. He couldn't see any signs of struggle so he had to assume the former.
He passed many schools and halls of learning and public forums for debate and conversation. This shouldn't be a surprise for according to Imperial records, the Iconoclasts were the ones who had brought this world into compliance. His brother's legion had always prided itself on the preservation of logic, debate and understanding. In that they were similar, for his legion were not just warriors like their cousins suspected, but many were sages, scholars, and teachers who sought to learn and challenge the many philosophies of the galaxy. "If only we had more of that and less fanaticism" he thought ruefully to himself, though to be fair he could have done more to quell the flames of zealotry and perhaps prevented more loss of life.
These past few months were shameful, he was losing the soul of his legion, slowly but surely, to the path of the warrior. This shouldn't have happened, their legions were so similar in so many ways, and yet it was the differences that defined them. He too has witnessed the depths of evil and suffering that were possible when religion was abused. He saw first hand the pathetic princes of Quresh abusing so-called scriptures to oppress the poor and keep themselves in
power. His ire was raised at the mere thought of the indulgent, fat, priests taking from the poor because the people weren't educated enough to defend themselves.
But therein came one of the differences. Both he and Theomaxos saw the dangers of corrupt beliefs, but he sought reformation and his brother sought to purge it. Thankfully Khalid had been found by the bedouins and taken to seek refuge with isolated monks who taught him that there was virtue to be found in religion and while he rejected the creeds of his day, he still took their values to heart. Perhaps that was another difference, maybe his brother had no guiding hand to show him the light as well as the darkness in men's hearts.
Something was calling him forward, towards the center of the city and what appeared to be its most prestigious building. According to the signs nearby it is called the areopagus and was likely the center of governance. Khalid wearily walked up the building and entered it, hand clasped on his powerful scimitar, not sure of what awaited him on the other side.
Inside, was a massive chamber with hundreds of seats surrounding a central stage. The chamber was empty and quiet, the silence deafening in place that once likely held great speeches and debates from brilliant minds. It was empty save for one, who was sitting on the stage and apparently didn't even react to his presence. His brother still didn't react as Khalid slowly approached, the sound of his armored boots echoed as did the subtle whine of his power armor. Only when Khalid stepped up to the stage did he react, turning to face Khalid.
Theomaxos, once a proud figure, tall and strong even compared to his brothers, with well tanned skin, short black hair and piercing black eyes. Now he was a disheveled husk of a man, clad in nothing more than a dirty gray robe. Gone was the majesty of a demi god who inspired even the most blind of followers to consider their actions. Gone was the champion of reason and defier of gods. Instead, all that was left was a bitter broken man.
"So, you are finally here? Here to exact your vengeance for my folly?"
That was exactly what Khalid wanted to do, he wanted vengeance for the unprovoked assault on Ka'hih. Memories of the dead and dying filled his mind, as did memories of mothers holding the burned corpses of their children and fathers breaking down, crying out to the heavens. Over and over again they would cry out: "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?" Or "God, why have you forsaken me?". Khalid's hands started to shake as rage threatened to boil over, but then another memory came to the surface. It was an old proverb taught to him by the monks, men who had also been tempted no doubt by rage and sorrow but instead sought to enlighten others rather than avenge themselves.
"it is better to bring an enemy to repentance than to seek recompense".
That proverb gave him pause, as did the war up to this point. His sons had already reaped a deadly toil, billions had been slain in these past few months alone. What kind of precedence did
this set? When would the bloodletting stop so that the healing may begin? And as much as he hated to admit it, were they truly blameless in all of this? How many chances did he have to seek resolution or ask for the Emperor to intervene and yet he did not? If he killed his brother here and now, when would he stop? He already had doubts about where the legion was heading, he didn't want them to become a pack of brutish degenerates, intolerant animals who slaughtered all who disagreed with them. For somehow, he knew that someday he would have to leave them and his new faith behind to watch over humanity.
"No, I seek only to speak. Just like the old days" Khalid replied, moving to sit next to Theomaxos. If the gesture surprised Theomaxos, it wasn't apparent, but Khalid felt his brother was more at ease despite the tension that still hung right in the air. "The old days, huh" Theomaxos replied with a deep sigh. "As if words could solve our troubles" he continued. "We could always try" Khalid countered, Theomaxos sighed once again and took a long look around the chamber, no doubt being reminded of some deep memory or profound utterance spoken here long ago.
"I suppose that the biggest difference between you and me, you truly allowed someone to speak to you. I on the other hand was so angry, so self righteous and confident in my worldview that I wouldn't allow anyone to truly challenge it. I had seen too much, too much evil, too much suffering and cruelty to entertain any alternatives" Theomaxos said, some of his old strength coming back as he spoke, but some of that strength was mixed with sorrow and regret. "I don't think I ever told you the story of what really broke me, what convinced me that organized religion was not mere false or illogical, but down right evil" he continued. Khalid remained silent, allowing him to ruminate and eventually continue.
"While I was just a youth, working on the farm and trying my best to keep my family safe from the local church's thugs who kept demanding tithes from us, I learned of the horrid fate which befell thousands of innocent children whilst I toiled away. There were crusades on my world, though they went by another name. They were oftentimes little more than thinly veiled land grabs and petty feuds between rival demagogues who preached hellfire and brimstone while their followers slaughtered each other.
Well, one of these crusades caught the imagination of the youth. So enraptured were many children that they set out to embark on a journey by themselves. This "children's crusade" ended in tragedy as one would expect, but it was far worse than even you could imagine". He continued, his voice growing colder and more distant as he went on. He sat in silence for a moment, clearly hesitant to go any further. His hands trembled slightly as both rage and sorrow filled him.
"They were captured by enemy soldiers, but rather than send the children home they fell upon them. Some were killed outright, they were the lucky ones. The boys were either sacrificed to foul deities or taken as slaves to be worked to death. The girls…. The girls were set apart for
another purpose. They became the playthings for the soldiers, who subjected them to tortures and humiliations I wouldn't wish on my worst foes.
When I heard word of what happened, I couldn't believe it. There were many dark rumors that spread during those days so it was impossible to believe such a thing. I quickly set out to find out for myself, desperate to disprove such a thing and preserve some small faith in humanity. What I found was atrocious, I saw the bodies defiled and grown men preying on the defenseless. The fact that such men could commit these horrid acts and yet pretend to be pious disturbed me down to my very core.
That was the day I tore down the first edifices, and killed the so-called faithful. I would then liberate the slaves and spread my message of denouncing any gods that would countenance such crimes. I preached the virtues of transparency, accountability and responsibility. I set the world ablaze and men and women kept in the dark for centuries began to think for themselves and demand justice in this life as opposed to the next. After that I met the Emperor and went to world after world, seeing my views and hatred vindicated so many times that it poisoned my mind.
I understood, even if I wouldn't acknowledge it, that religion wasn't the cause for this evil, it only enabled it and allowed it to flourish. At the time I saw that distinction as only academic and thus I cast too wide a brush. I sincerely thought that all religions, even your creed would lead to the same deprivations and corruption eventually". A poignant silence enveloped the chamber as grudges held for centuries slowly but surely melted away. Khalid saw his brother in a slightly different light now, it didn't excuse his actions but it was more understandable now.
"I…. If I was in your place I would have done much the same" Khalid admitted, as much as it pained him to do so. "I too have seen the terrible things people can do when they abuse the trust of their flock. I have seen rulers use scriptures to oppress others and weigh them down with spiritual laws they themselves can't even follow.
But I have also seen the good that religion can do for man. I have seen lives saved, purpose given, and hope found. I have seen rich men give up everything to help the poor. I have seen the proud humbled, the lazy disciplined, and the wicked repent.
I too strive for knowledge, reason, and understanding. I wish for everyone to think critically, to examine their beliefs and engage in meaningful discussions. I want everyone to understand the message and be equal to each other. I want to curb the excesses that come with faith" Khalid continued. Khalid thought deeply about what he would say next, considering carefully his options before he spoke once more.
"I forgive you" Khalid finally spoke, the words echoing throughout the chamber. "It is not too late to return to the fold, to walk in the light once more"
Theomaxos remained silent for what felt like an eternity, his features downcast before he let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. "It is too late for that. I have seen too much to ever walk in the light again. I have seen the truth, I have seen the face of the cosmos and how truly insignificant we are. In the materium alone we are but a tiny speck of light in the infinite void. We hold but one of billions of galaxies drifting through the dark, with no purpose, no meaning, no ultimate goal or destination. There are no objective truths, no reason to be believed in rationality or coherent causality. We have nothing.
I too strive for knowledge, reason, and understanding. I wish for everyone to think critically, to examine their beliefs and engage in meaningful discussions. I want everyone to understand the message and be equal to each other. I want to curb the excesses that come with faith" Khalid continued. Khalid thought deeply about what he would say next, considering carefully his options before he spoke once more.
Theomaxos slowly rose to his feet before kneeling before Khalid, the light in his eyes growing more and more distant by the second. Bowing his head to the ground as he glanced at Khalid's scimitar still kept on his hip. "Brother… I don't want to live in this broken galaxy, I do not want to see all I build collapse once more. Show me mercy and end it once and for all". Khalid sighed mournfully, wishing to protest but words failed him for only the second time in his life. It took all of his will to do so but he lifted the scimitar and cut down.
According to the Chronicles of the life of the Prophet as penned by Uthmar Ibn Allfin, Khalid emerged victorious after a climactic battle where he slayed Theomaxos and destroyed the unity of the Iconoclasts forevermore. It was written that he pursued the traitors with renewed vigor and wrote the last surahs of holy message. Only those closest to him would ever know the truth, and the doubts that would plague him for the rest of life.
(The pactum chaotica)
The final major pocket of resistance was an alliance of Astartes from the Void Specters, Sacred Band, Rising suns, Ice giants as well as whatever mortal rabble and cultists they could dredge up. They mustered around the Xithos stars on the border between segmentum Solar and Obscurus. This lose alliance, called the pactum chaotica, proved to be a significant throne in the side of the Imperium for several years.
Ultimately it was the nature of chaos that was their undoing as they disagreed as to how to proceed. Some wanted to meet the Imperium in direct battle like the Rising suns, who were keen on regaining Khone's favor by slaying their cousins with bolter and blade. Others, such as the Void Specters and Ice Giants lobbied for more devious schemes, using sorcery and technology to strike from the shadows. Petty insults and feuds threaten to boil over into
infighting, being kept barely in check by the first captain of the Sacred Band, Absalon, the fabled "second Ever-chosen" and "Herald of Chaos".
Absalon proposed a compromise of sorts, a plan to lure in the Imperium and destroy a large portion of their forces in a pitched battle across an entire star system. Thus began the battle for Xithos Primus, where Absalon used the Imperium's fury against it by feigning retreat and leading an Imperial fleet into a trap. Thousands died every second as the Imperial fleet was beset upon at all sides, assailed by weapons both conventional and warp based. Foul rituals turned crews against each other as Astartes boarding crews ravaged vessel after vessel.
In the ensuing battle, Absalon managed to severely wound Sobek after goading him into boarding a traitor Astartes vessel, using daemons and mutants to occupy his bodyguards and sap his stamina.Just as he was savoring the victory and about to deliver the final blow, he let down his guard. At just the right moment, a regular Imperial soldier nearly killed him with a plasma rifle shot to the back. This wound took him out of commission and forced his companions to carry him and retreat. This setback coincided with the deaths of several other high ranking traitors, throwing them into disarray just before more Imperial forces would arrive as reinforcements.
The pactum chaotica would then implode shortly thereafter due to infighting as well as being overwhelmed by the loyalists. These desperate traitors would join the Iron drakes, Silver swords and later the Executioners, who were fleeing the wrathful Eldar after an ill-fated assault of theirs was repulsed. Only the Iconoclasts would keep from fleeing into the eye of terror, choosing instead to run into the maelstrom. Imperial forces would celebrate this great victory, publicly declaring the traitors destroyed and leaving but a small garrison and series of forts to monitor the eye of terror. This would come back to haunt the nascent Imperium but there were other matters to deal with, matters such as governance and policy that had to be decided. And that is a story for next time….