The Leonine Heresy

by Sharrowkyn

Inspired by the Roboutian Heresy, this is the tale of Lion El'Jonson's fall to Chaos as he leads half of his brothers (and not necessarily the ones you might think) in rebellion against the Emperor. All Index Astartes entries have been completed, and now we are journeying through the various War Zones of the 41st Millennium.

2. Index Astartes: Alpha Legion

Chapter 2: Index Astartes: Alpha Legion

Inspired by the Roboutian Heresy, by Zahariel.

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Index Astartes- Alpha Legion: The Hidden Guardians

None can match the secrecy of the Alpha Legion. The sons of the Hydra stand hidden in plain sight, the silent shield that guards the Imperium, the men that stand watch in the night against those that would do humanity harm. Espionage, sabotage, infiltration: their methods are many, all means to the greater end. Their operating structure is shrouded in mystery, even to their fellow Legions, but none can deny its efficacy. Nobody knows just how many secrets this legion keeps, but it is undeniably effective. Everything and nothing is true in the legion where names are only tools. Only one thing remains a certainty: I am Alpharius.

Origins: Alpha and Omega

From the most advanced forge-world to the most savage death world, all loyal citizens of the Imperium know the legend of the Emperor and his sons. Though twisted and distorted through ten millennia of history, the tireless work of the Missionaria Galaxia has spread the tale of the Loyal Nine, the demigod sons of the Emperor known as Primarchs who stayed true and helped found the Imperium. The more civilized the world, the more accurate the retelling, though the stories are generally adapted to facilitate their spread. Despite these small variations, it is generally agreed that the Emperor's greatest son was the mighty Horus. Few if any worlds remember the Alpha Legion or its primarch, and even fewer would deem the Emperor's youngest son the most important. More accurate knowledge is withheld by the Inquisition and Ecclesiarchy, only entrusted to those who are judged worthy to keep such secrets.

Long ago in the mists of history, the almighty God-Emperor of Mankind created many legions to aid him and adore him. These legions were composed not of mortal men as of the armies of old, but of posthuman demigods, warriors recruited from the holy homeworld of Mankind, Terra. Of these legions, many would fail him in one way or another, until there were but nine worthy legions left. Of these nine loyal legions, the least is known of the mysterious Twentieth. The first recruits selected for the XXth Legion were chosen for their ability to keep a secret and their total willingness to serve. Defiance and courage were common enough traits; the XX Legion was looking for something else entirely.

Though unknown to most, the Twentieth Legion was one of the mysterious 'trefoil', one of three legions endowed with a higher purpose than the other, more generalized legions which lacked specialty before reuniting with their primarchs. Whatever the true purpose of the trefoil legions, it is clear the Emperor designed them well, as all three legions, the VI, XVIII, and XX, remained unshakably loyal to their creator. Nonetheless, a legion of space marines is a hard thing to hide, and rumors of hidden legions spread throughout the growing Imperium. This too was turned to their advantage. They had no set color scheme, and the Legion began fighting under a variety of armor colors and variations, giving the impression of many unknown legions fighting for the Imperium of Mankind, and the missions they undertook remained just as secret, even to this day.

To the wider Imperium, the XX was the last legion to begin campaigning. Without a primarch for well over a century, the legion possessed no deeds of honor to their name, no heroic campaigns that could be attributed to them alone. Wiser souls know this is not the case. The XX was active long before any true records on their activities started being kept. Expeditionary fleets would arrive at worlds known to be occupied by hostile xenos, only to find shattered fleets in orbit and ruined cities on the surface. Most believed it to be the result of another legion such as the brutal World Eaters or the secretive Raven Guard. The pre-Alpha Legion allowed these rumors to propagate, allowing the secrecy to mask their location and purpose. Like most things about the legion, their size was never known, and that was how they preferred it. It is believed that they recruited from across Terra, in contrast to the more particular sources for the other legions. This was to change however, with the return of their primarch.

The Hydra has Many Heads

Long ago, at the end of the Age of Strife, the God-Emperor of Mankind united the war-torn world of Terra under his own rule in preparation for the Great Crusade, his grand endeavor to reunite the Lost Tribes of Man. To act as extensions of his will and aid him in this task, he created twenty sons, known as Primarchs, each imparted with a fraction of his divine will and an aspect of his personality. In a hidden laboratory underneath his fortress in the Himalazian Mountains, he carefully watched over them as they grew in life-pods. Before they could realize their potential, disaster struck. Some say it was sabotage from within, others the act of jealous daemons, angry and fearful of the God-Emperor's might. Whatever the truth, the Primarchs were scattered across the galaxy, beyond the immediate reach of the Emperor.

Something was wrong. The Emperor sensed the shattering of his protective laboratory wards. He knew this day would come, but he had hoped for more time. The warnings he had received, in addition to his own foresight, told him the likely outcome of this intrusion. After only a split second of calculation, the Emperor cast out his mind, reaching through miles of stone and metal to the laboratory. His mind's-eye showed a hole in reality, a rending in the fabric of existence that was rapidly pulling everything into it. Half the room was already gone, the life-pods now sucked into the Warp, to be deposited who knows where.

Running was out of the question, he'd never make it in time. Teleportation was also out, the sheer weight of his presence would have unforeseen consequences and endanger the Project. There was only one solution. It was too late to save them all, but maybe something could be salvaged. An alternative choice that the sentient warp-tumors calling themselves gods would never foresee.

Marshalling his colossal psychic might, the Emperor pulled, and a mighty force was created, a counterforce to slow down the rate at which the pods were being pulled. At the same time, he pumped energy into reestablishing his wards. He could feel the terror articulated by their minds, especially Pods XV and XVII. So few left, would he be in time to save any?

Finally, the wards began reasserting themselves, and the warp rift began to close. As it snapped shut, the final pod was sliced neatly in half. The Emperor could sense the outrage from the Ruinous Powers that their scheme had been noticed, but also satisfaction that their plot had succeeded. Despairing that he was too late, the Emperor shifted himself through unreality into his laboratory, his heart breaking at the sight of the ruination of his work. He approached the smoking remains of the cradle which once held Pod XX.

Peering down at the bisected pod, the Emperor was astonished to find it was still occupied. He was certain that all had been sucked into the Warp. Sure, his interference had redirected some of the pods, but he sensed twenty souls leaving, the luminous essences of the Primarchs shining as they were cast away from Terra. Yet here was a new soul, whose tiny calm eyes that stared up at the radiant figure in glowing golden armor.

A new primarch. A chance to avert the coming disasters. One chance to steer the tragedy to come in a more beneficial manner.

"My beautiful son. My last light in the darkness. You shall be known as Omegon."

As the Emperor took hold of his son, the other inhabitant of Pod XX was cast through the Warp. None can say where the Ruinous Powers intended for him to end up: some say a space hulk, others a death world, others still claim it was to be a world tainted by Chaos. None but daemons know for certain. The steaming wreckage of the pod came to a shuddering halt on a small forest moon, where the unconscious primarch was picked up and brought to safety. Viewing the raw madness of the Warp directly is dangerous for even the most prepared mind or pious soul, and the young boy's mind simply shut itself off as a defense mechanism. The psychic backlash from the Emperor's action had thrown the life-pod into a warp-current, which took it in the opposite direction of its original course, far to the galactic southwest. When the boy awoke, he was in a small wooden hut, completely alone. Primarchs do not age as other men do, and though he was but a few solar weeks of age, he had already developed into a young boy. The boy held instinctual knowledge that he had been created for some purpose, though for what he could not say. The only thing he knew for certain was his name: Alpharius.

As the boy tried to make sense of his surroundings, a figure stepped through the door. Instinctual loathing, residual from mankind's earliest evolution, filled the boy as he beheld the being which stood before him. A lanky figure wearing ornate, almost crystalline armor stepped closer to the boy and removed his helmet, revealing pale black hair and a black triangular gem in the center of his forehead, situated precisely between two pointed ears.

The alien spoke, and a mellifluous sound came out. The intricacies and grace of the language were entirely lost on the savage youth, however, who crouched against the back wall of the hut in a posture recognizable to any hunter: that of a cornered animal, ready to defend itself. The alien spoke again, this time in slow, halting Gothic. "Be at ease, child. My name is Eldrad, and I mean you no harm."

Following the Runes of Fate, which revealed a hidden twist in the skein of reality, the Aeldari had travelled the Webway to arrive on this small world which had been undisturbed for millennia. Eldrad introduced the boy to the Exodite colony that inhabited the moon. They were initially reluctant to have a Mon-keigh polluting their world, but their respect for Eldrad led them to begrudgingly accept the child. Months passed, and Alpharius grew rapidly to his full potential, swiftly picking up almost everything Eldrad could teach him. He was a natural savant and quickly came to master everything he was taught, from language to science to combat. Eldrad would check in from time to time, but spent most of the time within a sanctum upon the highest peak, divining the future and communing with his brethren on the Farseer council. Several times he caught Alpharius attempting to listen in, his clumsy mind making so much noise even an Aeldari child could notice. Such a powerful mind would draw unwanted attention, and so Eldrad taught him to conceal his presence, to tamp down on the natural supernova that was his mind-soul so that he could pass comparatively unnoticed by other psykers.

Within two years' time, Alpharius had completely surpassed his teachers in both size and acumen, and Eldrad knew keeping a primarch on a world like this would eventually attract the attention of the Imperium, or worse, the denizens of Sha'eil. The two boarded Eldrad's ship, and they began to fly up through the thin atmosphere, the normally stoic Alpharius in awe of the natural beauty of the galaxy around him. The two passed through the crystalline arches, a Webway gate known only to the xenos that raised him. Within lay the endless labyrinth that enables the Aeldari to move about the galaxy without entering the immaterium. They journeyed through dozens of tunnels of varying sizes before landing in a vast chamber, stepping out into a confusing, fractured chamber filled with blinding white crystals. Massive spiders crawled the walls, repairing cracks in the tunnels leading away, before scuttling off as a group of figures approached down a long hallway towards the pair. Very little is known of the time Alpharius spent here, other than that he was in the care of the enigmatic Aeldari known as the harlequins. Time works differently in the Webway, and only Alpharius (and perhaps the Emperor himself) knows how much subjective time he spent there. Nonetheless, the time he spent there kept him hidden from the wider galaxy and the machinations of Chaos. Much he learned from the Harlequins, and the training he received on the streets of Commoragh taught him to how to apply his skills, as well as bringing him to interact with some truly unexpected people.

The primarch crept through the filthy streets of the low city, the filthy hives of scum and villainy where those who couldn't escape Commoragh or ascend to the Upper Port where the Drukhari nobility resided. Perhaps this tunnel would allow him to escape.

The minions of the Decapitator tracked him from the shadows, occasionally leaping out in ambush only to be smashed into the ground, the primarch's supernatural senses allowing him to react in time to block the blades or dodge the balefire before it could reach him. He entered what looked to be a massive warehouse, searching every corner yet his goal didn't seem to be here. Nor could he go back to ask the xenos informant, for he was dead, crushed under the primarch's mighty hammer after spilling the information he needed. A swift death, more than his kind deserved.

Sensing a presence behind him, the primarch whirled around. A bulky figure, too wide to be an eldar, stood before him, his crystalline armor glinting in the unnatural light. Behind him stood the object of his search: a webway gate. A way out of this hell.

The figure held his hand up to the arches, and the gate flared to life. As the figure turned and stepped through, the primarch rushed after him lest the gate close behind him. When he stepped through, the figure was nowhere to be seen. No matter, anywhere was better than Commoragh. Vulkan began marching down the crystal tunnels to wherever they may lead.

While Alpharius travelled the Webway, the primarch Omegon grew up under the direct tutelage of Malcador the Sigillite, the Emperor's right hand. In a hidden set of villas contained entirely under the Imperial Palace, the boy was raised in almost complete solitude, his only companions the man he came to know as Uncle Malcador, and his sparring partner Gataki, a Custodian assigned especially to the Young Master, as he came to be known. The Emperor himself occasionally checked in on the boy, but was largely away, finishing the conquest of the Solar System. Every time he returned, he brought the boy a present, mementos of his conquests, though what Omegon loved most was a small trinket bearing the insignia of a multi-headed serpent coiled around a thunderbolt. Though they never spent more than a week together at a time, Omegon fiercely loved his father, and was the model of a perfect prince. For reasons known only to his father, the boy grew much more slowly than his lost twin brother, though he was just as capable and intelligent, swiftly learning all that he could.

Eventually, the boy was allowed to accompany his father in the guise of a Custodian, observing at first, then commanding, then fighting on the front lines with his father, his identity hidden the whole time from all. Having mastered the art of combat by his father's side, Omegon was then reunited, still disguised, with the legion molded in his own genetic legacy, the mysterious XX Legion. He spent decades in the shadows, shaping his legion into the perfect hidden blade, molding them in his own image. It was Omegon that bestowed on them the name of Alpha Legion, and Omegon and his sons that became the Emperor's scalpel, accomplishing his will with utmost efficiency, though the constant need to stay hidden even from his own sons grated on the primarch's ego, for he was, after all, still human.

Omegon was with his father from the beginning, and at the Emperor's side during the recovery of almost all his brothers, from young Horus on the ruined hive world of Cthonia to / FILE CORRUPTED / over a hundred years later. Not even his legion knew of their father's existence. The Emperor did not permit Omegon to reveal himself to his brothers, preferring to keep his existence a secret. The Primarch of the Twentieth did occasionally embark on missions where other primarchs were present, though none ever recognized him. However, fate conspired to change this.

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" The boarding sirens on Bucephalus blared their warning as Custodes rushed to the hangar bay. The Emperor himself calmly walked towards the site of the intrusion, Constantin Valdor and Omegon at his side. The Bucephalus had just jumped out of the Warp when it came under attack. In the landing bay, a small ship, its make unidentifiable as a result of dozens of sustained hits, sat smoking, its existence a testament to how well its creators had designed it. A tall figure stepped out, his crystalline armor glinting off the harsh light of the hangar. His body language showed that he was completely at ease, despite the dozens of Custodians surrounding him. Looking at this brazen intruder, the Emperor allowed himself a smile. The figure maintained a steady gaze as he looked up at the Emperor, or more precisely, the figure beside him, an unadorned Custodian Guard whose armor appeared unremarkable next to the Captain-General and the Master of Mankind.

"Who are you?" Valdor demanded. The figure didn't as much as glance at him, his head still towards the figure standing to the other side of the Emperor. "Speak now or be destroyed!" Still not acknowledging the Captain-General of the Custodes, the figure removed his helmet, and spoke.

"I am Alpharius."

Having regained his final son, the last of the primarchs, the Emperor brought Alpharius to his chambers, where the two spoke all night. Nobody knows what they discussed, but whatever was said, it seems clear that the Emperor immediately trusted his son. Then the Emperor introduced him to Omegon. From the moment they spoke, it was clear the two shared a bond closer than any, a perfect complementarity between them. Omegon's primarch aura, which had seemed almost non-existent compared to those of his brothers, now radiated intensely, and all aboard could feel the presence of a demigod.

The brothers spent most of the journey back to Terra in seclusion discussing matters in the privacy of the Emperor's chambers. When the Bucephalus docked at Lion's Gate Spaceport, the Emperor emerged and was greeted by his favored son Horus, who was waiting there along with Lorgar and Konrad. In a famous pict-cast taken by the remembrancer imagist Euphrati Keeler, the three brothers can be seen embracing a lone figure in unadorned power armor. It was seems Alpharius was to be the only primarch of the Alpha Legion, announcing himself as "Alpharius Omegon" to the rest of the Imperium. Though none realized it, the brothers had swapped places: Omegon stood in the role of Alpharius, while Alpharius himself spent his time amongst the legion, learning their ways and bonding with his sons.

Great Crusade: The Hydra Revealed

After reuniting with their Primarch, the legion acted in a support role for a time, Alpharius learning how to fight a war the Imperial way. Though he swiftly mastered it, and was later given charge of his own expeditionary fleet, it was clear to all Alpharius had his own way of waging war and a unique vision for his legion. Shortly making his debut, rumors began spreading of the possible origins of the final primarch. Some said Horus had found the final primarch on a dead world. Others believed Alpharius had been the victim of a Slaugth attack, and had spent years being healed by the Emperor himself. Dozens of rumors circulated, and it seems likely Alpharius himself propagated these rumors to distract and confuse from his true intentions and goals.

As a result of how late he was found, it seemed a foregone conclusion that Alpharius and the Twentieth would never be able to match the tally of conquests that his elder brothers could boast of. However, the Alpha Legion swiftly made a name for itself as it began conducting their wars in a variety of different manners. Some continued to fight from the shadows, while others embraced needlessly complex strategies that seemed almost designed to mock the way the other legions waged war. It was as though the Twentieth had a split personality or multiple codes of conduct compared to the more unified direction of other legions. The name of Alpharius became known across the Crusade fleets as a figure of mystery. His sons began adopting his name and wielding his authority, even in dealing with his brothers. A grudging respect was thus formed, as no commander wanted to be caught slighting a son of the Emperor. This became a sore point with some of his brothers, such as Rogal Dorn and Angron, who accused their youngest brother of fighting without honor or courage. Similar disrespect was shown from the Thirteenth Legion, who, after a particularly brutal campaign on Tessera Prime, swore to never again work with the Twentieth. Guilliman denounced his brother as acting in a way unfitting for a primarch. No response was ever heard from Alpharius.

Spurned by many, Alpharius turned to other primarchs. One would think Alpharius would have gotten along with his eldest brother, Lion El'Jonson, but the mysterious Lord of the First avoided the Last Legion. It is said that anyone foolish enough to question his decision on the matter received a glare capable of putting fear in even an Astartes. Instead, the Alpha Legion began prosecuting campaigns with the reformed Night Lords, whose style of war proved to be a natural fit between Alpharius and Curze. On the other side of the galaxy, a large portion of the Alpha Legion under Omegon was conducting a campaign under the guidance of the Raven Guard. The Twins learned much from their brothers, but their style was truly their own. With Konrad Curze, you knew he was there but could not see his blindfolded face until he was standing in judgment over you. With Corvus Corax you would not sense his presence until a pair of lightning claws were at your throat. Alpharius strove for a third path. The Alpha Legion would become a force seen but unrecognized, their true nature and goals hidden until it became too late to stop them.

To bolster their ability to spread their influence, the Alpha Legion began to employ mortal operatives. Most Legions had no use for mortals: they were good only for the menial tasks that were below the attention of the transhuman Astartes. Even the famously humanitarian sons of Vulkan maintained a paternalistic separation from their mortal allies. Not so with the Alpha Legion. A vast network of spies was created: information gathering, sabotage, reconnaissance, anything that an Astartes would have been too noticeable for was delegated to these helpers, who came to be known as the Scales of the Hydra. Decades later, many of these Scales would later go on to join the nascent Inquisition.

The Inquisition

The Holy Ordos of the God-Emperor's Inquisition is one of the most feared organizations in all the Imperium. Formed after the Scouring at the behest of Malcador with input from multiple Primarchs, the Inquisition was one of many institutions set up to ensure an event like the Heresy could never happen again. The Inquisition in particular was the institution with the most input from Alpharius, as the other two secretive primarchs, Corvus and Konrad, had both perished during the course of the war. Alpharius made the most of this opportunity, shaping the direction it took from behind the scenes, allowing Malcador to be the public founder and patron while the methods and training came straight from the basics of the Alpha Legion.

While Malcador focused his attention on crafting the Ordo Malleus, Alpharius seeded the nascent organization with his Scales of the Hydra, which began to form their own groups within to put a stop to the many minor threats that did not warrant the full attention of the Daemonhunters, but were still too important to leave to the Adeptus Arbites. Later in the Thirty-fifth Millennium after the Age of Apostasy, at the formation of the Ordo Hereticus, the lords of the Alpha Legion stepped in again, providing their invaluable wisdom in guiding this new branch of the Inquisition.

The Inquisition remains the terror of heretics to this day. Innumerable are the threats they have stopped, undeniable are their results. Their methods are fear and secrecy, combined with fanatical devotion to the Emperor. However, the Inquisition is a fractured and imperfect organization, its many Ordos striving against each other in their differing goals and objectives. From the main three groups of the Ordo Malleus, Ordo Xenos, and Ordo Hereticus, each with thousands of operatives, to tiny fractional groups such as the Ordo Sepulturus or Ordo Sicarius, the Inquisition is kept from true tyranny by its own inefficiency.

This discord is exacerbated by Alpha Legion agents operating in their own clandestine order, the Ordo Hydra. Ostensibly a liaison agency between the intelligence gathering networks of the Alpha Legion and the rest of the Inquisition, it is a closely-guarded secret that the Ordo Hydra's true task is to divert the energies of the Inquisition towards the betterment of the Imperium. Many a Radical Inquisitor Lord has been brought down from within, their schemes foiled by those whose loyalty they thought beyond reproach, the same three last words repeated as a bolt round enters the back of their skull: "I am Alpharius."

The Cabal: Changing Loyalties

The desert planet of Nurth was a forgotten backwater. Barren and desolate, it had almost nothing to offer any potential invader, and thus it escaped most of the ravages of the Age of Strife through sheer luck, or as their people would tell you, divine intervention. The explosion in the psyker population was handled through an all-powerful priesthood, who inducted every child found to have a glimmer of psychic potential. Thus did the desert world avoid the mass pogroms so common on other worlds. Nevertheless, such pervasive influence from the priesthood made this world particularly unreceptive to the message of the Imperial Truth spread by the Great Crusade. The words of the Iterators rang hollow in the face of the priesthood's power, as vast sandstorms were summoned to cover the planet's surface. To the locals, life went on as usual. To the Imperial Army groups of the 670th Expeditionary Fleet sent to secure compliance, Nurth was a living hell. The sand seemed always in the air: coarse, rough, itchy, it was a constant abrasion to the soldiers. And it got everywhere: tanks constantly broke down as the sand got inside their engines; air cover was non-existent, the thick clouds and lightning storms prevented aircraft from operating below cloud level. The expeditionary forces were quickly bogged down, unable to get close to the walled oasis cities of the Nurthene, while privation from lack of supplies and heat killed almost as many soldiers as the ambush raids of the enemy did.

The commanding general of the 670th, Lord Commander Teng Namitjira, reached out through his contacts for any Legiones Astartes that could be spared to help prosecute this campaign. His offer was accepted by a legion he had never even heard of: the Alpha Legion, led by the primarch Alpharius himself. Profusely bowing to the son of the Emperor, Namitjira explained the situation, the primarch listening in silence the whole time. Alpharius agreed to intervene, and swiftly got to work. His first attempts to infiltrate the oasis-cities of the Nurthene were resounding failures, the priesthood broadcasting the public executions of the infiltrated agents. Realizing something was amiss, Alpharius deployed the librarians of his legion, whose second sight revealed a taint around each of the planet's eight largest cities, centered on the vast fanes that stood at the center of each metropolis. Blending in would be impossible here, so an elite team of legionnaires known as Effrit Squad, led by Alpharius himself, was sent to infiltrate the city to disable the protective shields, while Omegon would lead the main strike force that would take the city. The plan proved to be a resounding success, and as the fane burned, the weather around the city began to clear up again as the taint subsided.

Such tactics seemed like they would be the tipping point, and several cities fell in quick succession, boosting the morale of the Imperial Army divisions. The Alpha Legion began preparing to leave the world, as they were needed elsewhere and the Nurthene were judged to be nearing the breaking point. Then the unexpected occurred. Scouts found a man at the edge of death from dehydration wandering the deserts of Nurth near the legion's base of operations. He was picked up by the legionaries, and brought to a secure holding cell. The man proved to be too weak to withstand interrogation, and swiftly perished. As the interrogators prepared to dispose of his body, it suddenly jerked back to life, his wounds healing themselves before their astonished eyes. His vocal cords now restored, the man introduced himself as John Grammaticus, and asked for Alpharius by name. His curiosity piqued, Omegon went to the holding cell, and spoke with Grammaticus. The man spun a wild tale of a group of aliens known as the Cabal, who wished to speak with the primarch of the Alpha Legion.

Though skeptical, Omegon agreed to a meeting, and with a squad of Lernaean Terminator bodyguards at his side, he followed Grammaticus to a small concealed gate in the desert. Passing through the gate, the legionaries emerged in the center of a large round chamber. Seated around them were aliens of every description: wizened eldar, hooded Hrud, gaseous beings contained by energy fields, a small orb that could only be an Umbra, even a few humans. A small reptilian, a slann, on a grav-platform floated down towards Omegon, and spoke of a vast conspiracy. Their greatest psykers had combined their precognitive powers to form a gestalt entity known as the Acuity. The Acuity, the slann explained, had shown them the future of the galaxy: the Imperium would be plunged into civil war, its greatest champions subverted to the worship of the Primordial Annihilator. The only solution was to defeat it from within. The reptilian explained that the only way to save the galaxy was for humanity to go extinct, and that the Alpha Legion needed to join the traitors when they appeared.

Feigning indecisiveness, Omegon asked for time to think, and he returned to his ship to consult with his brother. The twins spoke long into the night: Alpharius favored joining the xenos to prevent such a threat, while Omegon insisted Humanity must survive. Or perhaps it was the other way around. None can say for certain. Split down the middle, the twins resolved to contact Alpharius's mentor, Farseer Eldrad. He proved easy to contact, and he explained his Runes showed that he needed to be in this region of the galaxy at this moment. As Eldrad looked down at the planet below, he stiffened as visions of the future assaulted his mind.

"Farseer, what's wrong?" Alpharius said, reaching a hand out to steady the shaking Aeldari. Eldrad tore his gaze away from the sand-covered world below. "This planet is steeped in the taint of the Primordial Annihilator. Why have you not destroyed it from orbit?"

"The taint cleared when we destroyed their temples, we believed it to be salvageable."

"No child, this planet was lost long ago. You must leave this place at once."

"But what of the Cabal?"

"They cannot be trusted. Those who stare too deeply into the Immaterium find that it stares back. Their prophecies have been manipulated, to what end I cannot say. But we cannot allow them to act unopposed. One of you must accept their offer, and feign compliance until I can gather the allies we need to end their schemes."

"I will do it." Alpharius said.

"Very well. Omegon, your destiny lies elsewhere. Return to Terra, your loyalty must be beyond question. Before you leave though, this world must be destroyed."

Their minds made up, the Alpha Legion began accelerating their withdrawal from Nurth. Eldrad's words proved true, for as the ships began taking off, the remaining cities began to emit black beams of energy into the atmosphere from the temple complexes. As the Imperial Army soldiers scrambled to escape, the sand in the atmosphere began superheating, becoming shards of molten glass that shredded skin, howling in a sound that could only be described as the voice of daemons. As the last of the transports docked in the ships waiting above, Omegon watched as the world collapsed in on itself. After Alpharius and Eldrad left to gather allies to thwart the Cabal, a xenos agent of the Cabal came aboard the Alpha Legion flagship Beta. Together the fleet set off for Nikaea, where the Emperor had called his sons to gather.

As the Beta traveled towards Nikaea, Alpharius and Eldrad entered the Webway, in pursuit of their mysterious goal. Long was their journey, and they dropped off the galactic stage for several years. None were any the wiser though, as Omegon kept up appearances, appearing at Nikaea as a common captain of the legion. The legion's reputation for secrecy meant none would dare ask if one of the few legionaries standing silently in the gallery was truly the primarch of the XX. After listening to his brothers speak, Omegon was unsurprised at the resulting decision to censure Magnus. The Sorcerer King and his Thousand Sons were notorious for their arrogance and extravagant use of psychic powers. Such recklessness was directly antithetical to the more reserved disciplines used by the Alpha Legion. As the primarch of the Alpha Legion was 'not' at Nikaea, no Thousand Sons were assigned to the Twentieth Legion, though Omegon used the opportunity to slip in a few more agents into their ranks, curious to see if they would abide by the Council's decision.

The Alpha Legion quickly left after the Edict was pronounced. Its text was irrelevant, for the legion certainly wouldn't adhere to it, for they were not in the habit of letting a tool go to waste. While Omegon agreed with censuring Magnus and his reckless use of his powers, he most certainly did not agree with disbanding the librarius, considering it akin to throwing away a weapon in the midst of battle. Therefore the Hydra kept all of its fangs sharp and hidden, ready to be employed when necessary. More surprising was the Emperor's decision to name Vulkan as Praetorian of Terra. The Alpha Legion had never campaigned openly with the Salamanders, though they had been one of the easier legions to infiltrate. Omegon looked forward to the knowledge his sons would gain from being stationed on Terra.

When Horus's order came to second some of his sons to the Legion Auxilia, Omegon obeyed, sending Autilon Skorr as his Consul-Delegatus. Shortly after, Skorr informed his primarch that the Voice of the Warmaster, Lion El'Jonson, was looking for him. Unlike Alpharius, Omegon had never trusted the Lion, and thus avoided meeting with him, sending a double in his place to accept the commands. Whatever the task, Omegon followed it, and thus his obedience was unquestioned; neither his brothers nor the Cabal agent accompanying him had any cause to doubt him. When Horus fell facing the Interex, nearly a decade after Nurth, the words of the agent seemed vindicated: all was unfolding as the Acuity had predicted.

Yet the skeins of fate are rarely so straightforward. Instead of being exposed to the Ruinous Powers, Horus was interred into stasis. When Omegon learned of this from his son Skorr who represented his legion in the Mournival Majoris, he knew something had changed. Confronting the Cabal agent with this knowledge, the agent was bewildered and confused. With this proof of the Cabal's fallibility, Omegon crushed the agent and disposed of the body, making his way back to one of the hidden Alpha Legion muster points. It was time to take things into their own hands.

Omegon gathered his forces in several places across the galactic east, ready to strike in whatever direction when the time came. Expeditionary fleets suddenly found themselves bereft of Legionary support, as all of the Alpha Legion began rallying to hidden muster points, preparing for the campaigns ahead. Such a cautious move had both advantages and disadvantages, though it was true to the secretive nature of the Alpha Legion. Warp storms were choking the immaterium, making travel slower and more deadly. The Astronomican itself seemed to be dimming, and only small fleets stood any chance of not being scattered and destroyed.

While the legion gathered their forces waiting for the right time to strike, the Alpha Legion intelligence network began to weaken. One by one, the network of informants went silent, starting with those inserted into the Dark Angels, then Ultramar; within a year, Omegon had lost track of at least six legions. Though their activities were now hidden, this gave Omegon a good idea of which legions were preparing to betray the Emperor, and prepare accordingly. The only uncertainty was what camp the Star Hunters and Blood Angels stood in, as well as who would lead these renegade legions. Records indicate Omegon's suspicions lay on Guilliman, though he was not certain. Yet such knowledge was little comfort to the Primarch. Omegon had no substantive proof his brothers were going to betray the Emperor other than the word of xenos and the suspicions of spies. Thus he remained where he was, until undeniable evidence could be gained.

Reports began to arrive from the spies in the Raven Guard, reporting that the World Eaters had gone rogue and attacked them. This was far to the galactic north though, and coming to their aid would only over-extend the Hydra. Spies on Terra reported uproar on the Throneworld: the Thousand Sons, censured and divided nearly ten years before, had gone rogue as well. A battle had taken place upon the walls of the Imperial Palace itself, and the Throneworld itself was now being searched for the traitors. The Alpha Legion would no doubt be able to find the missing Fifteenth, but Terra was the domain of the Salamanders and other guardians of the Emperor; a massive legion force showing up unannounced there would only bring unwanted eyes on the Legion's activities.

Months passed, and still the Alpha Legion waited, hidden while its agents searched for the missing link that could explain the death of their spies and how the rogue legions were tied together. Like a serpent lying motionless in the underbrush for days, waiting for its prey to stumble into its grasp, the fleets of the Alpha Legion lay dormant in the depths of deep space. Light-years away from any known system, their librarians created the equivalent of static in the warp to mask the fleet from being detected. Such inaction kept their forces ready and prepared, even as the galaxy began to tear itself apart around them.

Finally, the time came. When Omegon learned that Horus had been attacked by the Dark Angels and Blood Angels, he knew he had found the link. Only the Lion acting as Voice of the Warmaster would explain these seemingly unconnected events and betrayals. Only he would be capable of binding and leading these rogue legions, though to what goal Omegon could not say. The coils of the Hydra unfurled, its many heads going in different directions. One fleet entered the Webway, to assist Alpharius in defending the Black Library. Another fleet travelled towards Ultramar, the astropaths easily able to locate it by the storms in the Immaterium which were beginning to gather around it. A third sailed south towards Deliverance: the shattered Raven Guard would need all the aid they could get if they were to remain in the fight. Still another travelled west out beyond the Ullanor system. The spies in the Star Hunters had sent a final message before being caught, speaking dire warnings of an unstoppable horde and an ambush prepared for the Death Guard following them. The final fleet under Omegon himself headed towards Terra. The Emperor would need all the forces he could get there, and Omegon intended to reunite with his father.

Shattered Fangs: The Battle of Pluto

As the various Alpha Legion fleets travelled to obey their father's commands, Omegon's small fleet braved the currents of the Immaterium on their way towards Terra. It seemed as though the Warp itself was trying to stop them: every time the Gellar fields flickered, many crew were lost in the repeated efforts to purge the ships. The lighthouse of the Astronomican served as their waypoint, and finally the fleet arrived in the Sol system, where much had changed. As the shipboard clocks received the automatic data transmitted from the astropathic relay stations on Pluto which provided local time to travelers, Omegon was surprised to note just how long it had taken them to arrive: according to the clocks, they had been in the warp for years. In that time much had changed, Omegon's keen eye noting all that Vulkan had wrought. Instead of small watch stations around Pluto, there now floated an orbital ring, its gun platforms already charging and aimed at the unexpected arrival of the Alpha Legion ships. All five moons now bristled with armaments, and hails began to roll in, as the Salamanders demanded identification. Though many of his brothers would have objected to such treatment, Omegon reacted with satisfaction. Vulkan had clearly stepped up to his role as Praetorian. For now though, he merely accepted the hails, stalling for time as his agents on Terra noticed the primarch's arrival and transmitted the requisite clearance codes.

Though they were older codes, they were still allowed through, and the battered Alpha Legion ships made the transit back to Terra, escorted by a Salamander warship all the while. The worlds of the Solar System had been changed in much the same way as Pluto had, massive increases in fortifications throughout. More surprising was the state of Mars, which looked as though it had gone through another Age of Strife. The surface of the Red Planet, normally clear due to the thin atmosphere, was now covered in thick clouds covering most of the surface. In orbit, servitor drones were performing salvage operations on shattered hulls of ships, taking what they could and ejecting debris into the atmosphere to be burned up upon reentry. The ships of the Salamanders were everywhere, though Omegon did note the presence of an Iron Hands fleet in orbit around Mars. Finally, the fleet made it to Terra, docking at Lion's Gate Spaceport, which Omegon was told now bore the name Raven's Gate in memory of their fallen brother. Though he had long suspected it, Omegon was still saddened to hear Corax's death confirmed, for it was he who had trained beside him many years before.

Descending through checkpoint after checkpoint, Omegon, escorted by Custodes, entered the depths of the Palace, his sons not allowed into the inner sanctums. This did not overly bother him, for they all had their own tasks to accomplish. He noted with distaste the colossal slums around the Outer Palace. Those presented an unacceptable security risk; clearly Vulkan had balked at clearing out the refugees and pilgrims by force. He noted the new weapon embankments in place of statuary, the alert Salamanders in their armor patrolling where once strolled bureaucrats in robes. Truly the Palace had changed. Omegon arrived at his destination, though it was not the one he had expected. Instead of the Inner Halls of the Senatorum Imperialis, those most central of chambers where the decisions of governance were made, he had instead been brought at the set of villas where he had grown up in. There he found not his father, but rather Malcador and Vulkan. The two swiftly brought Omegon up to date on what had transpired during the years Omegon had been away. Omegon could tell from the subtle smile on Malcador's face that he could tell who it was he was speaking to, though Vulkan knew him only as Alpharius. Omegon could count the number of people who knew of his existence on one hand, and Vulkan was simply not one of them.

The three pored over maps and charts for days, Omegon pointing out the many flaws in Vulkan's defenses, much to Malcador's amusement. Horus, Ferrus, and Mortarion were all out on campaign, slowing the traitor advances as much as they could. Omegon could tell by the way Vulkan spoke of Horus that there was some tension as to who was in command, so it was no surprise Horus spent most of his time in the field where no questions of authority could arise. As Vulkan took notes on how to rearrange the defenses in accordance with Omegon's advice, astropathic warnings began coming in, relayed from the watchtower networks of Pluto. A massive fleet of unknown vessels had been detected in trans-Neptunian space, which could only mean one thing: traitor assault. As Omegon and Vulkan rushed towards the surface, Omegon felt an immense pressure on his mind: his father was attempting to communicate with him.

A memory. That's what this had to be. They stood atop a snow-capped peak, lesser mountains all around. Below him only ice and snow, and above only sky. Omegon could sense that his appearance had changed, finding himself to look as he did nearly a century ago, before all the lies: the honest face of a young boy. In front of him stood a tall, tanned man with long black hair, radiating warmth, though something seemed off.

"Father."

"Omegon, my son. You have returned." Though the voice was completely calm, just as Omegon had remembered it, he could sense a change. It was as though the Emperor was carrying some sort of immense weight.

"Where are we?"

"This is as it was before Old Night, when Terra was a small planet called Earth, alone in the galaxy. We stand atop where the Halls of the Astronomican now lie."

"Why have you brought me here? Why do you not see me yourself?"

His father hesitated before answering. "There was…an error. Your brother Magnus proved…unsalvageable. The Great Enemy already has its claws in him, and his actions have led to the ruination of my projects. Time is running out, and all that is left now is to mitigate the damage."

"I refuse to believe that. You told me yourself there's always another way."

"This is the other way. I had hoped my actions would be enough to avert disaster, but it has come in a manner contrary to my visions. Even now my power is being spent to hold shut my Gate, lest it open and swallow Terra."

"But…" "But nothing Omegon. Go to your brothers. You and Alpharius must step out of the shadows, and join your brothers in the light." For a fraction of a second the Emperor's concentration slipped, and the vision shifted, showing the true man underneath, the powerful build vanishing to show a frame wracked with pain and stress, before returning to how it was before. "Go, my son."

"I will come back for you, father. I will return to your side, I swear."

"I know you will, my son." The Emperor smiled sadly, and the vision vanished. Seemingly only seconds had gone by, and Omegon resumed his course towards the surface.

As Omegon and Vulkan reached the Imperial Strategium contained within the Bhab Bastion, auspexes had picked up the source of the disturbance: a fleet of Imperial Fists warships had breached the perimeter and were beginning to assault Pluto. None could say how they had avoided astropathic detection, but there was no time to investigate. A quick consensus was reached: Omegon agreed to lead the response, his blue-green armor shifting into the richer hues that marked the paint scheme of the Salamanders. Vulkan frowned at the sight of his brother wearing the colors of his sons, but ceded operational command to him while he began to attempt to muster forces to support the counter-attack. In orbit, Omegon's ships began to take on the appearance of Salamander vessels as holo-fields flickered into life around them and their IFF tags altered to match their new appearance. The small Salamanders fleet began transiting the three billion miles between Terra and Pluto, where it was joined along the way by a ragtag assortment of ships, anyone and everyone that could be spared. Looming Iron Hands warships, vast Ark Mechanicus hulks bristling with esoteric weaponry, and even some rogue trader ships which were essentially transports with guns. Omegon knew the key to defeating Dorn and his Fists was to disrupt their grand battle plans with unexpected variables: teamwork was vital, but cohesion was not. Any attempt to form a solid line would be picked apart with ease by the Fists who specialized in breaking defenses. Thus when the fleet began to enter the vicinity of Pluto, Omegon had them engage from all sides and unexpected vectors.

As the assault began, Omegon noted the changes in the enemy fleet. Instead of the bright yellow that he expected, the ships he faced were only partially yellow, streaked throughout with pitch black. They were not facing Dorn, but his favored sons, the Templar Brethren. The forces of the Seventh Legion had formed a formidable blockade around Pluto and its moons, though a defensive perimeter had been formed to repel the incoming Loyalist fleet. Omegon noted with distaste how lopsided the odds were: even split into two groups, the Fists vastly outnumbered them. In the place of honor at the center of the blockade stood the Eternal Crusader, the flagship of Dorn's chosen son, First Captain Sigismund. The imposing perimeter gave way almost immediately, the picketing ships throwing themselves forward to come into closer range with the Salamanders fleet. Alerts came pouring in, as many ships began to report hostile boarders as teams of breachers and terminator squads made their presence known. Omegon gave the order to scatter, pulling the defensive perimeter completely out of formation as the bloodthirsty Fists began to pursue. Though an opening had been created, it was too soon to go for Pluto yet, as half of the enemy fleet had not even begun to engage. Their guns were still trained on the fortresses which dotted Pluto, the few defensive guns left feebly spitting out occasional defiant shots at the invaders who pounded them mercilessly in return.

Days passed, and the odds slowly began turning in favor of the Loyalists. Omegon had received word from Vulkan, and it seemed help was coming, though their arrival remained unknown, subject to the hostile currents of the Warp. The traitors had broken the defenses of Pluto, but rather than moving on to attack the Loyalist fleets still engaged with the outer picket, they seemed content to stay in orbit around Pluto. Auspexes detected massive feedback from teleport chambers and shuttles traveling to and from the surface. Something was wrong, and Omegon intended to find out what. Calling together the other captains, Omegon laid out his strategy to break the traitor line and began to put it into place. Using the remaining Ark Mechanicus vessels as a shield, Omegon committed almost his full force into a central push straight through the Seventh Legion defensive perimeter, their defenses strained to breaking point. The ships orbiting Pluto began to enter the battle for the first time, rushing to reinforce the outer defense. The Eternal Crusader entered the melee, its powerful forward guns raking the Loyalist shields and shredding one of the Arks which began to fall out of position.

The trap finally sprung as the enemy flagship and its powerful escorts entered the fray, smashing into the Salamander line like sharks who had scented blood. During the past few days of combat, the Alpha Legion ships had been drifting, all power off to avoid detection while their holo-fields reflected space around them. Finally in position, they powered on, and began to rain shots as they engaged the traitors from all sides. The traitor line buckled, then broke altogether, and the Salamanders began to engage Pluto itself. The Fire Drakes of the Salamanders, their elite veterans bedecked in terminator armor, made their presence known, teleporting en masse onto the surface of Pluto, where they engaged in close combat with the elite Templar Brethren themselves. The armor of the Fists matched that of their ships battling out above, their proud yellow now scraped and scratched away to reveal the gray underneath, save for the black indicating their allegiance as well as a blood-red right hand. The Templar Brethren slammed into the Fire Drakes, as their leader Sigismund stalked the battlefield, challenging any foe of rank he could see. The arrogant swordsman slew many a hero that day, before inexplicably falling back to the command structure, abandoning his duel with Salamanders Lord Chaplain Rhy'tan before it could properly end.

While the Salamanders held the traitors' attention, Omegon slipped past the battlefield as he infiltrated the central structure that the Fists were fighting so hard to defend. Once the Chief Relay Station, the building had become a fortress, as the Fists showed their specialty by swiftly rebuilding it. Nonetheless, its defenses proved wholly inadequate to stopping one such as Omegon, who had trained with the Custodes themselves in their Blood Games, and he passed through their defenses unnoticed. It was rather easy by his standards: the Fists fought with a single-minded hatred for the Salamanders whom they saw as having stolen their role as Praetorians. Omegon knew the Fists had to have some sort of ulterior motive for attacking alone and unsupported, and he stalked through the twisting halls as he made his way to the central chamber.

When Omegon finally located and entered the heart of the complex, he saw something that staggered even him. It was not Sigismund or even Dorn, but rather a vast yellow orb, floating at the center of the chamber, opening up to reveal an eye which glared at him with hate. Below the Eye and covering the walls were hideous symbols which filled his mouth with the taste of bile. Omegon recognized that eye: it was the Eye of Magnus. As it fixated on him, Omegon felt an immense psychic pressure, as the Eye sought to break his mental defenses and pry open the secrets his mind contained. It was all he could do to remain in place, as the Eye whispered terrible things to him. Suddenly he felt the pressure recede as the Eye turned away, and he twisted just in time to dodge a blow from behind.

Sigismund began his assault, his hateful black sword nearly decapitating Omegon as he gave the primarch no time to recover. If Sigismund recognized that he was fighting anything more than another legionary, he gave no indication, his expressions hidden behind the hateful visage of the infamous Crusader's Helm. Their duel continued for minutes, Sigismund's body language beginning to convey doubt at what looked like a mere Salamander captain managing to hold him off in a way few others had in his storied career. Twisting his body, Sigismund allowed himself to be impaled in the shoulder as he slashed upward, cutting through Omegon's helm to reveal a face that was clearly not that of a Salamander. Sigismund stepped back in shock, and in response, Omegon rammed him, using his sheer bulk to rush Sigismund, throwing him backwards into the Eye in the center of the room, crushing the delicate instruments underneath. As Sigismund picked himself up, a piercing mental scream rang out across Pluto, as the Eye began to collapse in on itself. His mission compromised, Sigismund spoke for the first time, and in a calm voice told Omegon that they would resume this another time. The Templar vanished, an actinic flash indicating he had teleported away, while in orbit above, the Seventh Legion fleet began to break away, sailing at full speed to the Mandeville point of the Khthonic Gate where they could safely enter the Warp.

The battered loyalist fleet had retaken Pluto at great cost, and Omegon took his leave, making his way back to Terra to speak with Vulkan. The Eye of Magnus had seen their defenses up close, and it was only a matter of time before the full might of the traitors descended. Omegon and the surviving Alpha Legionnaires re-equipped, and they began to aid in slowing down the enemy as they closed in from all directions towards Bastion Omega, the final line of defense guarding the Solar System. Though not in contact with each other and thousands of light years apart, Omegon knew his twin was doing much the same, working tirelessly wherever he may be at the same goal of slowing the traitors.

Ruinstorm Revealed: Gathering the Lost

Far from Omegon and Segmentum Solar, the Alpha Legion Third Fleet under First Captain Ingo Pech made its way into the Ultramar sector on the far southeastern edge of the galactic plane. As the fleet drew ever closer to the outlying systems, the Warp storms became ever-stronger in intensity. Ship astropaths described it as a whirlpool, drawing everything inwards towards Ultramar and making it next to impossible to return outwards; it was though that region was thirsting, pulling more and more systems into its gaping maw. As to what lay beyond the walls of this ruinous storm, none could say: astropaths and librarians alike proved unable to peer beyond, as their mortal minds struggled to remain sane in the face of such tumult. Omegon had not revealed much to Pech, but he knew his primarch was counting on him, so he gave the order to continue.

The fleet began to scatter as it entered the storm. It takes incredible precision and no small amount of luck to keep a fleet together even when the Warp is relatively calm, and it was anything but now. As the ships braved the currents, sensors indicated constant pressure on the Gellar fields, and all aboard felt a sense of hunger as though something wanted to get inside. Several ships were lost, their shields flickering and dying as the infinite energies of the immaterium poured in, their screams filling the vox until Pech ordered them disabled for the remainder of the journey. After what seemed like a lifetime, the pressure receded, and the ships were able to transition out of the warp and back into realspace. As the port shutters retracted and vox communication was reestablished, the Alpha Legion found themselves to be in the eastern edges of Ultramar. As satisfying as it would be to begin assaulting traitor worlds, Pech knew accomplishing his task took priority. Thus began their journey through the once-proud kingdom of Ultramar, sailing almost blindly from star system to star system under low power to avoid detection. Evidence of corruption was everywhere, and the legion psykers dared not peer too closely at the worlds they passed. Evidence of the missing Lorgar and Konrad was not hard to find: depressions in the warp where the storms were unusually calm gave evidence of rapid destruction and thus possible locations as to where the legions might have been.

This is not to say the Alpha Legion did not encounter anyone. Indeed, they fought in more systems than they avoided, though their opponents usually consisted of ships once belonging to the Ultramar Defense Fleet, the naval arm of the Ultramar Auxilia. These foes proved to be not much of a challenge, their mortal crews unprepared to face trained Astartes, who pounded the defiled ships of the enemy until there was nothing left but debris. The ships of other Legions proved to be a much greater threat. The Alpha Legion fleet clashed with a great many Ultramarine ships, their once uniform and orderly hulls now a variety of colors, each painted to the desire of their vainglorious captains and daubed in hideous symbols. Even more threatening was the encounters with Star Hunter ships, whose unique engines made them difficult to counter as they outmaneuvered the more damaged Alpha Legion ships.

Months passed and the Alpha Legion ships grew ever smaller in number, attrition from both extensive Warp travel and enemy engagements both taking their toll. From Talassa Prime to Espandor, the fleet sailed, searching endlessly, linking up with scattered elements of the Word Bearers and Night Lords, though none of them knew the location of their primarchs. Pech began to despair of the task he was assigned: Ultramar was vast, and the further east they sailed, the more spread out the worlds were and thus it became harder and harder to find their targets. Long-range sensors continued to give anomalous readings as the raw madness of the warp had begun to seep in to the entire sector. Massive surges in the Warp were periodically recorded from many different sides, though the largest came from the far northeast, where star charts said the world of Sotha lay. A massive flash of 'light' briefly appeared then disappeared, accompanied by a feeling of wrongness that drove many mortal crewmembers utterly insane as they began to act on long-hidden desires. In the days after this inexplicable phenomenon as the Astartes put down revolts on their own ships, sensors began to notice the endlessly-churning vortex that surrounded Ultramar had begun to slow down after that flash. For the first time in months, long-range vox was available, and the fleet began to pick up calls from many angles.

It had been two years since they had arrived, and a renewed sense of determination filled the crew as Pech announced they had picked up faint echoes of transmissions bearing the signature of a primarch. The fleet began to make their way westward again, and eventually tracked the messages to the world of Armatura, where they fought with the largest concentration of traitors yet seen. The conflict was nearly lost before the arrival of Lorgar himself, whose timely intervention turned the tide and forced the traitors to flee. After annihilating the corrupted world below, Pech, along with the leaders of the two other legions, met with Lorgar, telling him of their exploits before informing him of the danger which now threatened Terra. Having completed his mission, Pech agreed to turn over command to the primarch, and they began to sail back towards Terra, through the dissipating walls of the Ruinstorm to face whatever lay beyond.

The Unseen Heresy: War in the Webway

Long before the Battles of Pluto and Ultramar, when the Acuity registered that Horus had not fallen to Chaos, the Cabal realized something had changed. The Cabal began to argue among itself, scheming to decide what path it should take now that the future would not play out as they had anticipated. The debate was settled, as many things were in those days, by the sword. Alpharius himself, with Eldrad and a troupe of Harlequins, entered the council chamber, annihilating the Cabal by force and putting an end to their scheming, though a few of its members escaped and would need to be dealt with in the future. War was coming, and loose ends needed to be tied up. Alpharius returned to the Webway, traversing its endless tunnels, all the while avoiding the forces of the Fifteenth Legion. Something had happened to make the Thousand Sons throw away all pretense of restraint, as thousands of them had invaded the Webway. Their goal was clear: they sought the ultimate prize hidden in its trackless depths: the Black Library. The Harlequin companions of Eldrad spoke of an assault on the Library, a red giant with only one eye who had attempted entry only to be halted by its ever-shifting tunnels. Thus his sons had entered the Webway, seeking a new path to the Library that might be taken by force and the knowledge it contained used for whatever dark designs Magnus might have. Such an event would have disastrous consequences, and with the forces of the Aeldari still reeling from the destruction of their Empire, no force capable of opposing the Thousand Sons could be gathered in time. Nor could their Dark Kin in Commorragh be trusted. A new savior would have to step up.

As much as he wished to return to aid his father, Alpharius knew Magnus had to be stopped. Thus the War in the Webway began as Alpharius and the Harlequins sabotaged the efforts of the Thousand Sons. On the eve of their first assault, Alpharius was visited by a Harlequin Solitaire, who presented him with a relic known as the Yngir-shad, the Mirror-Devil Spear, though it is best known today as the Pale Spear, for the weapon was a pale whitish-chrome in appearance.

The Pale Spear

The Pale Spear is a mysterious weapon, unique among the armory of the Primarchs in that this weapon was not forged by human hands. Quite the opposite, this weapon is theorized to be older than the Human species itself. The spear itself is a tall thin rod composed of some alien alloy that is far harder and more durable than any metal known to man. The rod is tipped with two heads that arc towards a single point in a strange, alien shape that glows green as combat begins, and is uncommonly deadly, piercing ceramite and adamantium as though they were cloth. The most surprising aspect is its hidden ability, allowing it, at a mental command from the user, to shatter into dozens of pieces and reform in the space of a second, allowing the wielder to slip past enemy defenses and strike from an unexpected angle. So too can it reform if it should happen to be shattered by an enemy. The origin of this weapon is unknown, and though Alpharius received it from Aeldari, it is certainly not like the weapons they design, for is it made from neither wraithbone nor any substance that they are known for using. Though Alpharius was the original bearer, Omegon too began using a spear in combat, though it is unknown which twin bore the original Pale Spear afterwards.

Even as Omegon began to move his fleets into place as though they were pieces in a vast game of regicide on a scale heretofore unseen, Alpharius, with the aid of his Harlequin allies, continued his assaults on the Thousand Sons who infested the Webway. Though Magnus himself never entered the Webway, seemingly preferring to concentrate his efforts on the war elsewhere, he had sent some of his most powerful sons to prosecute the war on his behalf, the entire 2nd and 3rd Fellowships under the sorcerers Phosis T'kar and Hathor Maat. Finally freed from feigned compliance to the Edict of Nikaea, T'Kar and his sorcerers took full advantage of the opportunity to unleash their full psychic potential in pursuit of their goals. These magisters templi were masters of battle magic, summoning powerful waves of telekinetic force to reshape the world around them. Their strength on the battlefield was simply unmatched, the poor foes unlucky enough to step within range twisted and crushed into shattered fragments of gore and armor.

Nonetheless, they were completely unsuited for the task of facing a foe such as the Harlequins. The first wave of ambushes were specifically targeted at any members of Cult of the Corvidae, those who specialized in precognition. Their ability to see the future all but neutered, the Harlequins were free to spring their devastating ambushes as they led the Traitor Astartes down all the wrong paths. The lucky ones were released into the icy depths of space, or led into corridors leading the opposite direction of their goal. Less lucky were those led into ambushes, as spinning and capering troupes assaulted the marines from every angle, shredding them with blasts from their shuriken catapults before slicing them into pieces in close combat. The truly unlucky were deposited into Commorragh, where the denizens of the Dark City were always eager to have new prey.

This is not to say it all went their way. The Thousand Sons, though immensely arrogant, were still Astartes, and they reaped a heavy toll on the Harlequins. Bolters proved just as effective on Harlequins as they did on their Craftworld cousins, while heavier weapons such as missiles shattered the crystalline warp spiders that periodically attacked the source of the Chaos infecting the Webway. The psychic powers of the Sorcerers proved equally as deadly, the cults combining their mental might into ripping open Harlequin transports, exposing their inhabitants to withering counter attacks. In addition, the Thousand Sons began to employ daemons in battle, their unassuming familiars warping into monstrous beasts with all-too-many eyes and mouths. The conflict dragged on as the casualty rates began to turn in favor of the Thousand Sons, and the Harlequins could not continue to sustain such losses. Thus Alpharius threw his reserves to the conflict, the fleet of his sons led by Harrowmaster Armillus Dynat.

Armillus Dynat

Known as the Griefbringer, Armillus Dynat was one of the most trusted of Alpharius's sons. The Alpha Legion has always had a more fluid structure than most other legions: it was said every line soldier carried an iron halo or terminator's honors in his pack. Thus even the lowest soldier might, with enough effort, rise to command his brothers and enjoy the approval of his primarch. Alpharius did not play favorites, recognizing only merit, and Dynat swiftly showed his, rising through the ranks in record time. Highlights of his career include masterminding the Tesstra Campaign and Oanessi Genocide.

However, his finest action, one which brought him the status of Harrowmaster, was his public rebuke of First Captain Marius Gage, shaming the Ultramarines at the Battle of Asarna Bay. The Thirteenth Legion had been stymied for months, taking heavy losses as they struggled to pin their mobile adversaries down. Unknown to them, Dynat had been using the data gathered from the many engagements, and used this to predict where the enemy's leaders were hiding. Using a combination of fast-armor and close air-support, Dynat led a spear-tip which crushed the enemy's command structure in one quick strike. Dynat and his forces swiftly left after the battle, leaving Gage to face his primarch's displeasure for being shown up in such a manner. Since that battle, the Griefbringer has been in the Alpha Legion's high command, and was especially chosen for this mission by Omegon.

As the Thousand Sons began to press their advantage, they were met by the hammer of the Alpha Legion. The Thousand Sons had shifted their forces into small groups, perfect for quick reaction and suited for crushing the small troupes of the slippery Aeldari. Thus they were completely unprepared for the heavily armored formations of the Alpha Legion, who dealt such a blow that the Thousand Sons were forced away from the Black Library. Their cabals were shattered and forced into retreat across the theater, forced into using their fell magic to breach holes in the Webway to summon daemons to cover their retreat. As for Alpharius himself, he led from the rear, allowing his Harrowmaster to prosecute the campaign, waiting until the end to make a precision strike at the Thousand Sons leadership, personally killing T'Kar with the Pale Spear, its strange metal glowing as it absorbed and redirected the Sorcerer's dark magic before piercing through his armor. Hathor Maat and the rest of the sorcerers used this opportunity to escape, pumping their vile energies into the dying T'kar which mutated into a hideous chaos spawn that rampaged through the Alpha Legion lines before Alpharius put the beast down.

Having dealt a severe blow to the Thousand Sons, Alpharius knew the Webway would be safe for now, and that his fleet was needed elsewhere. Thus the fleet began to withdraw, leaving the Harlequins to their own devices. Alpharius and Dynat took their fleet back into realspace in the galactic south, slowly moving through the outer reaches of the Imperium. They knew the warp storms would never allow them to reach Terra in time, nor did they have forces at their disposal to tip the scales in any major way. Alpharius therefore resolved to play the long game, trusting in his brothers to hold Terra while the Alpha Legion did what they do best. As they traveled, they joined forces with their allies the Raven Guard, and together they fought their way across Segmentum Tempestus. Along the way, they stopped to deposit teams of legionaries on many worlds, sometimes a company, but usually only a squad. Thus hundreds of planets became part of a vast network, a spider web spanning thousands of light-years that worked to maintain the structure of the Imperium while monitoring traitor movements.

Siege of Terra and Post-Heresy

As the Alpha Legion made their presence known across the galaxy, the traitors were forced to divert their forces to deal with them, and a cat and mouse game across the galaxy began. At the forefront of these efforts were Guilliman and to a lesser extent Magnus, each determined to enact his vengeance on the brother whose tireless efforts had proved a constant thorn in their side. They believed if they could just catch and kill Alpharius, his legion would crumble. Thus the twins were reported killed on many different battlefields, though such reports rang hollow with the continued appearances of one calling himself Alpharius. Neither the precognitive powers of Magnus nor the daemon-twisted scions of Guilliman proved able to conclusively locate the twins. Though their efforts kept a large part of the galaxy safe and strained the traitor logistics, neither primarch was able to make it to Terra in time for the final confrontation.

Though the Twin Primarchs were not present, many of their sons were. Vulkan made good use of the soldiers Omegon had left behind, using them to root out hidden nests of traitors before the enemy arrived. As the Siege of Terra itself began, the sons of the Hydra fought alongside their fellow legions upon Terra. Many traitors died to hidden ambushes from hives thought taken, swarmed by civilians strapped with explosives who died by the dozens to take out even one Traitor Astartes. The sons of Alpharius and Omegon fought on all battlefields, both in their own colors and those of other legions, both Loyal and Traitor. Those who had given way to Chaos had sacrificed cohesion for power, and the Alpha Legion found it gratifyingly easy to convince them to turn on each other.

At the end of the Siege, the Lion was vanquished, and the traitor fleets were broken and sent fleeing by the arrival of the loyalist fleets. The forces of Lorgar struck the traitors like a bolt of lightning from above, and the Alpha Legion on Terra rallied to the newly arrived First Captain Pech. Together they fought at the side of the Word Bearers and Night Lords, forging a bond of kinship between the three legions. Later on, after the conclusion of the Siege, came Alpharius himself, though he remained hidden, entering the Imperial Palace by stealth to reestablish his networks across the Throneworld. Finally came Omegon, appearing publicly as Alpharius and reuniting with his brothers and standing at their side as they announced the beginning of the Scouring. The Alpha Legion proved invaluable in directing the Imperial fleets where to strike with incredible precision. Strike teams secured the questionable loyalty of many worlds, toppling traitor puppet governments and liberating the oppressed masses of Humanity forced to labor in service to the enemy. Back on Terra, Omegon assisted in the reconstruction of the Imperial bureaucracy, lending his particular expertise to the establishment of the Inquisition and the Assassinorum.

Officio Assassinorum

The Emperor has many tools at his disposal, though few are as secretive and feared as the Officio Assassinorum, the hidden dagger in the back of the foes of Mankind. The origins of this order predate the Heresy, and sources point to Malcador the Sigillite as the original patron and founder. However, in the wake of the Siege of Terra, as with many organizations, it was refounded and given official status under the resurgent Imperium with new ideals and objectives. The Assassinorum remains an open secret of the Imperium, ruled over by the Grandmaster who oversees the various Clades.

Divided into six major temples, though some whisper of other, more esoteric groups hidden in their shadow, the Assassinorum has a wide range of methods at its disposal to enact its bloody work. It only takes the actions of one man to damn a world to extinction, and therefore it takes but one man to prevent such damnation. Depending on the type of target, the Clades will dispatch various agents to secure a bloody end to those who would do violence to the fabric of the Imperium.

The Alpha Legion maintains close ties with the Assassinorum, keeping a close eye on these dangerous weapons as they make sure they are not deployed incorrectly. During the War of the Beast the entirety of the High Lords of Terra were executed after it became known they wished to surrender to the orkish invaders. In their place stepped up Grandmaster Drakan Vangorich, who ruled Terra with the quiet approval of the Alpha Legion, though they stepped aside to allow the Salamanders to remove him from power when he went too far. The temptation to use such powerful tools is ever-present; to prevent future abuse, the Alpha Legion also spearheaded the creation of the Ordo Sicarius, an Ordo Minoris of the Inquisition dedicated to keeping watch over the Clades, thus ensuring such valuable assets are used in the service of mankind and not for mere personal gain.

As the Scouring drew to a close, the various primarchs began to withdraw from active governance, preferring to leave the Imperium in the hands of mortal men, just as the Emperor had intended. The Alpha Legion was no exception, and its nature made it easier than most to allow Alpharius and Omegon to slide back into obscurity, back into the shadows to continue their work unimpeded. Few in the Imperium even noted their absence; compared to such giants as Horus and Lorgar, the heads of the Hydra remain as unresolved data points in the galactic ledger, their deeds forgotten to most, but not all. The surviving primarchs mourned their loss of course, but none were particularly close to the twins. According to Inquisitorial reports, Alpharius was last spotted in M33, in the company of the mysterious Aeldari known as the Harlequins, where he was surely stopping some sinister plot, for what other reason would a son of the Emperor have to consort with xenos? The Alpha Legion itself is silent on the fate of their progenitors.

The centuries turned into millennia, and the bloody days of the Heresy became legends. The Alpha Legion continue to prosecute their wars in the furthest reaches of space, guarding the borders of Man from those who would do it harm. The remnants of the Cabal were hunted down, their sinister plots finally ended. From Chaos warbands to xenos threats such as the Cacodominus, the foes of Mankind continue to curse the mysterious Astartes who seem to thwart their malefic intentions. The secret archives of the Inquisition are filled with knowledge forwarded to them by the Astartes of the Alpha Legion and their agents, some of which are simply too fantastic to be believed. Many inquisitors cast a suspicious eye towards the most secretive of legions, but the Last Legion has never given them cause to act openly against these hidden defenders of Mankind.

Homeworld, Recruitment, and Gene-seed

It is believed the Alpha Legion itself lacks a homeworld. This is not altogether uncommon: most legions recruit from multiple worlds for reasons of flexibility and reduced risk or due to loss of a world during the Heresy. The Alpha Legion however have never had a recorded homeworld. Rather, the Hydra collects from a variety of worlds across the length of the Imperium. This is believed to be a legacy of their actions during the Heresy, when the legion seeded cells on literally thousands of worlds in an effort to protect them. In return, many of these worlds offer their best and brightest sons to the Legion recruiters, a practice which frustrates the Lords Militant of the Imperial Guard, whose influence is limited on worlds known for tithing to the Alpha Legion.

Training of recruits is believed to follow the same basic structure as other legions, but with more of an emphasis on flexibility and clandestine operations. Though never confirmed, it is believed that recruits are seconded to the Scales of the Hydra, the mysterious affiliate organization of the Alpha Legion, where they can receive first-hand experience of waging war in places other than the battlefield. They are also believed to make the most extensive use of hypno-indoctrination of any legion, a practice necessary for the type of warfare they wage. The Alpha Legion fights all foes, same as any other legion, but as they specialize in counter-espionage and special operations, they have naturally gravitated towards countering the insidious threat of rebellion and the taint of Chaos. Together with their contacts in the Inquisition, the Alpha Legion has specialized in breaking the backs of rebellions before they are allowed to spread. As with other legions, recruits with mechanical aptitude are seconded to Mars to be trained as Techmarines, though these are generally older recruits who have already become full Astartes so as to better safeguard the secrets of the legion.

The Alpha Legion is believed to have one of the most pure gene-seeds, likely a result of being the last legion created by the Emperor, and as such, is incredibly compatible. The proof of this comes from their widespread recruiting net, as the aspirants can come from hundreds of different worlds. There are no obvious mutations, though certain legionaries tend to be slightly larger than other Space Marines. It is believed that these larger Astartes were utilized as a disguise to allow Alpharius to blend in among his sons in a way his brothers could not. Their lack of unique traits or identifying features is exacerbated by the legion's recruitment habits, as there is no 'set' look for a son of the Hydra compared to, for example, his cousins in the Raven Guard. The sons of Alpharius have no known gene-seed defects or malfunctioning organs.

This 'generic' look possessed by the Alpha Legion has an additional component kept secret from most outsiders. Their Apothecaries have mastered the art of surgery, using their skills to change the appearance of legionaries to appear more like others. Most often this is done as mere disguise, to hide the true faces of their agents. However, the true secret of the Apothecaries is their ability to change a face to resemble that of their primarch. Through both surgery, as well as an even more hidden method, a common legionary is able to assume the mantle of Alpharius, possessing their father's memories and mannerisms to a degree that even other primarchs could not tell the difference. The Inquisition has concluded such techniques are how the Heads of the Hydra were able to appear in many different places at once.

Combat Doctrines and Organization

The Astartes of the Alpha Legion have the most hidden command structure of all the legions, even compared to other secretive legions such as the Raven Guard or Night Lords. As such, the High Lords of Terra have no real way of keeping track of their numbers and deployment, which is an eternal frustration to them. Nor are the Alpha Legion as quick to answer summons as other legions such as the Sons of Horus or Word Bearers. Nevertheless, the Inquisition has managed to piece together a rough framework. The legion is believed to have maintained their Great Crusade-era command structure, as most legions did, so all the typical ranks have been observed with minor but expected variations in name. The Legion is ruled by council, whose members bear the rank of Harrowmaster and presided over by the First Captain, who acts as primus inter pares and the 'face' of the legion when it must interact with others. Such a gathering is highly irregular though, called only a handful of times in the past ten thousand years when necessity outweighs the detriment of withdrawing them from active duty.

Just as the leadership rarely comes together, so too does the Legion remain separate and divided most of the time. Instead of larger groupings such as chapters typical to other legions, the Alpha Legion is split up into small cells spread out across the galaxy. With no (known) central homeworld to direct operations from, the Hydra is present in all five Segmentums, though the bulk of their known forces are deployed in the galactic east in the outer rim. The true number of legionaries is unknown, but rarely do they muster in numbers greater than a chapter. This is due to not only how spread out their forces are, but also to their more specialized method of fighting. The massed attrition warfare of the Death Guard or the armored spearhead of the Iron Hands is simply not their style, though this is not to say they are incapable of such combat styles when the situation calls for it. Most cells continue to defend their assigned region of the Imperium, acting on their own as they have for millennia, continuing to uphold the legacy of their twin primarchs far from the eyes of the wider Imperium. The legion has long since stopped pretending to be Alpharius to their allies, as the age of the primarchs has ended; it is similarly irrelevant in wars prosecuted against xenos and rebels. An exception is made, however, when facing Heretic Astartes, especially the Ultramarines; here every member of the legion is Alpharius, arriving from nowhere to halt the designs of the Great Enemy once more.

The Alpha Legion has shaped its entire way of waging war around achieving victory at any cost, and thus makes use of a wide variety of units and formations, gleaned from millennia of waging war in myriad battlefields. From heavy spearheads of Lernaean Terminator squads to small groups of Headhunter Eliminators, the Alpha Legion tailors its methods of war to whatever foe it faces no matter where in the galaxy it operates. Though their training methods remain unknown, it is speculated that there must be some common knowledge passed amongst them, a manual sometimes referred to as the 'Codex Hydra'. Such a document must be how the disparate cells of the legion remain unified in the way they wage war. Though most cells of the legion are itinerant, some are permanently stationed at certain locations that come under attack more often than others. One example of this is the chapter stationed at the Cadian Gate, which has fought alongside other Imperial forces many times against the Black Templars and their vile Black Crusades. Thus they honor their father's legacy from millennia before when he stood against Sigismund at Pluto.

As stated above, the legion specializes in uprooting the taint of heresy and rebellion. Though they most often see action in uprooting Chaotic cults, the sons of the Hydra have proved especially adept in recent years at identifying and eliminating Genestealer cults, those insidious forerunners of the Tyranid swarms. The Legion itself and their Scales of the Hydra continue their tireless efforts to check the advances of xenos in the Eastern Fringe, a change in priority that has left many Inquisitor Lords worried, for an uptick in Alpha Legion activity in any region of the galaxy is always a sign of trouble. They have mostly recently been recorded countering the influence of the insidious Tau, who continue to spread their influence across the Eastern Fringe. Such advances must be halted before they can enter the forbidden regions near the ruins of what was once Ultramar, for who knows what evils might be unleashed there?

The legion continues to monitor threats throughout the galaxy, a task they are assisted in by their fellow legions, though they are not especially close with any, keeping most at arm's length. Even legions which were once close such as the Word Bearers and Night Lords became distant, likely intentional on the part of the Twentieth. The Legion has neutral relations with the Ecclesiarchy, mostly due to lack of information on their part. Similar relations are maintained with the Imperial Guard, where many lord-generals have never even heard of the legion, though they are smart enough not to question their unexpected support. In contrast, the sons of the Hydra are disliked by the Adeptus Mechanicus, and are suspected of hoarding technologies which should by law be turned over to Mars. The Alpha Legion is believed to have their own forge worlds who are not subject to the oversight of Mars, though nothing has ever been proven. Of particular note is the legion's seeming ability to blend in to other legions, a feat which the Mechanicus suspect comes from technology, though no evidence has ever been presented to make a claim. The High Lords of Terra look upon them with equal suspicion as the legion continues to operate essentially independently. No official actions against them have ever been taken, the votes of the Inquisitorial and Assassinorum representatives enough to stymie any attempts at sanction. Their most common foes are traitors, both Chaotic and basic rebellions. Their least common foes are Aeldari of any sort, though there is precious little information regarding their interactions. This is generally attributed to pure happenstance, though there is precious little information detailing interactions of this nature.

Beliefs and Warcry

Like most things relating to the Alpha Legion, the truth is hidden behind layers of half-truths and deceptions. It is believed that, like most Astartes, the space marines of the Alpha Legion do not believe in the divinity of the Emperor. Polite indifference or skepticism is the general attitude on the few occasions they have been asked. This is not to say they are ignorant of the Church's belief system, keeping close tabs on their actions as they do on all other institutions. Indeed, many legionaries are extremely knowledgeable, not only about matters of war but also culture, such as philosophy and art. Their flagship, the battle-barge Beta, continues to serve the Legion as the personal vessel of the First Captain, and is generally the point of contact when groups such as the High Lords wish to contact them. Their fleet doctrine is unknown, as they rarely enter open battle, and it is unknown how many ships they possess.

First Captain Kernax Voldorius

Little is known of the shadowy figure who leads the Alpha Legion at the close of the 41st Millennium. He bears a different name on every world he has fought: the Hand of Night, the Vindictor, the Unyielding Storm, though to the Inquisition he is known by the less dramatic alias of Voldorius. He is most known for his successful defense of Quintus V against the White Scars warband known as the Bloodtide. This infamous warband had taken their name from an ancient artifact which they used to kill billions in a short timespan, and were led by the daemon prince Kor'sarro.

Forces of the Raven Guard Third Chapter had been dispatched to bring the vile traitors to justice, and had clashed many times with the Bloodtide in pursuit of the traitors. Utilizing their fellow legion as a distraction without their knowledge, forces of the Alpha Legion under Voldorius cornered the traitors in the underhive, defeating the warband and mounting the daemon prince's blaspheming head on a spear before disappearing, leaving the confused Raven Guard under Captain Shrike to claim the glory in the eyes of the wider Imperium.

Voldorius exemplifies the Alpha Legion credo of the slow and hidden blade, waiting for just the right time to strike to achieve the only thing that matters: victory. The Alpha Legion has drifted in and out of prominence throughout the centuries, and Voldorius is only the latest in a long line of First Captains who feel it necessary to reduce the attention given to the Hydra's presence on the galactic stage.

What is certain is their dedication to defending the Imperium. The Alpha Legion is believed to have the smallest number of traitors of any legion, generally attributed to their extensive indoctrination and training. Though the Inquisition and other Legions are aware of the Alpha Legion's proclivity towards disguising their members as Astartes of other legions, one of their best-kept secrets is the existence of infiltrators in Traitor Legions as well. A step beyond simple espionage, such actions are taken only by trusted veterans capable of handling the extreme moral risks. The Inquisition believes this is accomplished through extreme mental conditioning, the chosen agents trained to repress their true identities underneath a façade or 'war-mask', in a similar manner as an Aeldari Aspect Warrior. The marine is secreted in their chosen targets, either consciously or as a sleeper agent, ready to activate at a chosen time known only to the handlers. This process is not perfect, and sometimes the new identity is too strong and assumes the dominant role in the unfortunate marine's mind, his original psyche lost forever as his alter-ego is corrupted by the vile deeds he performs to establish credibility, slowly becoming that which he hates. However, the risks are well worth it, and many a rebellion or black crusade has been smothered before it could begin thanks to the efforts of the Hydra.

The Alpha Legion utilizes a wide variety of paints and armor colors, each no more than a mask designed to fool their enemies. This practice has been maintained since the Heresy, though they most often fight in light blue armor with highlights of green. Their most common symbol remains the three-headed hydra, symbolic of the legion's many heads, and this icon is utilized by mortal agents in the form of tattoos showing their allegiance. So too do they have many warcries, generally appropriated from others in yet another attempt to confuse the enemy. However, one motto rises above all others, chanted in an emotionless monotone: "I am Alpharius". These words serve to confuse foes, while traitor Astartes are enraged at such seeming hubris. In the dark days of the 41st millennium, these words are a reminder to every Alpha Legionary, a reminder of their long-lost father, and the role they must portray.

The whistle blows. Colonel Brom of the Tartarus Defense Forces clambers up over the trench walls, rallying his men through his example as they run through the muddy fields and around craters. In the skies above them, Thunderbolt fighters scream overhead as they chase their traitor counterparts in aerial dogfights. Ahead of them stands no-man's land, pockmarked with craters as the artillery shells rain around them. This is the fourteenth charge, and it won't be the last, as loyal soldiers of the Guard die all around them on this bloody battlefield on the war-torn world of Tartarus. In the distance stands their objective, the trenches of the enemy, and behind that, the covered bunkers which launch shells into the Imperial lines from afar.

Eventually, the wave of Guardsmen crash into the enemy lines, and hand-to-hand fighting begins, the sharpened bayonets plunging into ork flesh. Colonel Brom fights with desperation as his soldiers do their duty and hold the line, buying time with their lives as they begin to die in droves. The wave shatters like the thirteen before it, ripped into pieces by blade and explosions.

As Brom falls, thrown backwards from a stray artillery shell which renders his torso a bloody mess, he lands on his back. His eyes stare up into the sky as he struggles to turn his head back towards the enemy, his fingers squeezing the trigger of a lasgun which is no longer in his hands. A shadow looms over him, as a serpentine green helmet peers down at the mortal man that looks back up. Mustering his last breath, Brom mutters his last words.

"For the Emperor." His duty done, the loyal soldier dies like so many of his comrades have before him. The armored figure reaches down, and retrieves the dog-tags which bear the soldier's designation. He probes the dead guardsman's mind, extracting any useful information before moving on. Librarian Sindri Myr turns his gaze upon the enemy, and unleashes his fury in crackling bolts of lightning, while all around him land Alpha Legion drop pods. Though the Colonel can no longer hear him, Sindri speaks.

"For the Emperor."

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AN: Surely you didn't expect a story called the Leonine Heresy to start with the Dark Angels Index? No, that index will be the grand finale! I wish to make my story unique, and thus one way of doing that will be to count down through the legions instead of counting up like everyone else does. Thus the last shall be first and the First shall be last. Feel free to keep posting comments, I love to read them. Next up is the Raven Guard, and they're definitely different to their canon counterparts.