Chapter 20: Index Astartes- Grey Knights
Index Astartes- Grey Knights: The Final Gift
Forged in the fires of the Leonine Heresy, the Grey Knights are a legion like no other. From their hidden fortress-monastery on Titan, they venture out amongst the stars, hunting the Neverborn and aiding the Inquisition in rooting out corruption wherever it festers. In a bygone age, their founders were taken from the champions of other legions, loyalist and traitor alike, to carry out the will of the Sigillite, laying the foundations of a loyalty beyond reproach in an era when trust had all but vanished. Now their descendants are a psychic brotherhood, an army of incorruptible champions whose purity burns the daemonic horrors which assail the Imperium on all sides. They are Humanity's unbreakable shield, a blade forged in defiance of fate whose sole purpose is to protect Mankind against the horrors of the Warp. However, their numbers have never been large, and as the perils of the Warp loom ever larger, the Grey Knights are stretched thin like never before. As hope wanes with the impending arrival of the Thirteenth Black Crusade, the Daemonhunters of Titan find themselves forced to make more and more impossible decisions, for in the darkness of the 41st Millennium, even they cannot save everyone.
Origins: The Order of the Sigillites
The Grey Knights are not akin to the other Legiones Astartes in many ways. In addition to their later creation, long after the Great Crusade and the Leonine Heresy, perhaps the greatest divergence of the Grey Knights is they never had one of the demigods known as Primarchs to give them shape and structure. Rather than a son of the Emperor, to find the founder of the Daemonhunters one must look at their origin and their rather different sort of circumstances. To trace the origins of the Grey Knights, one must look far into the distant past, to a time long before the being known as the Emperor of Man was ever known as such, to a time when nobody knew the name of Terra. This is an era hardly remembered, even by the wisest of scholars, and what little survived the ravages of time has been distorted by myth. Nonetheless, it is necessary to peer into this time to truly understand that the seeds of the Imperium were laid far before the first Space Marine or even Thunder Warrior ever set foot onto the battlefields of the Unification Wars.
In these ancient bygone days, the cradle of Mankind which we know as Terra once went by the name of Earth. Over the millennia, many civilizations rose and fell as the cycle of history rolled ever forward. When Mankind slowly took its first steps out among the stars, it did not forget its mother, for Earth served as the capital of every major Human polity. This was a golden age of progress and knowledge, seeing such advancements as the Warp-Drive and the Standard Template Construct, and none in the galaxy save the Aeldari Dominion could match their size and strength. Thousands of worlds were colonized and added to the realms of Man, a galaxy-spanning empire known as the Terran Federation. In their pride, Humanity sought a more grandiose title for their homeworld, and thus Old Earth became Terra just as the Age of Progress became the Age of Technology. The men of these days allied themselves with dozens of alien races, combining their knowledge and might in a new golden age.
As technology and progress marched ever onward, there were those who grew concerned with the hubris of Man. These scholars worried that the Federation was growing complacent, so secure in their power that they no longer heeded the lessons of the past. Ancient monuments were torn down without regard to their historical value, and the governance of many worlds were turned over to Artificial Intelligences, the so-called Men of Gold. These machine-minds, bound only by cold logic, eventually began to consolidate their own power, seeking to complete their tasks in the most efficient way possible, even if it meant enslaving or exterminating all of Humanity. Records of this time are scant indeed, though enough survived to implicate the Aeldari Dominion may have played a part in the corruption of the Men of Gold, no doubt seeking to destroy their greatest rival from within.
Thus began the Cybernetic Revolt, a galaxy-spanning war which erupted in M23. The Men of Gold swiftly took control of the Men of Iron, those robotic legions which served as Humanity's protectors. Terrible weapons of mass destruction were unleashed, destroying entire star systems and uncounted trillions of lives, and thus the Age of Technology gained the title we know it by today: the Dark Age of Technology. Bereft of their machine armies, Mankind turned to their alien allies, species which had been part of the Terran Federation for thousands of years, only to find themselves betrayed once more. The various races took advantage of the chaos to form their own realms, preying upon the scattered and divided worlds of Man. Many worlds were lost in those dark times, torn away from Terra's grasp forever by treachery and slaughter the likes of which the galaxy had not seen in millions of years.
After nearly two thousand years of warfare, the Men of Iron and their masters were destroyed, and all forms of cybernetic research was proscribed under pain of death. Humanity was no longer a hopeful race looking to the future: the tragedies of the Cybernetic Revolt had ingrained Mankind with an instinctual hatred of Abominable Intelligences. Science and progress was now suspect, just as the alien races which had betrayed them were now inherently untrustworthy: becoming xenos. Perhaps had the Terran Federation been able to reform, had a new human galactic power emerged, such attitudes would not have taken hold. However, a new disaster was about to unfold, for as M25 began, so too did a new Age: the Age of Strife.
Galactic colonization had mostly been achieved through the use of the Warp-Drive, an esoteric device that allowed starships to enter the dimension parallel to our own known as the Immaterium. However, as the centuries passed and the galaxy was ever-more convulsed by war, so too did the Warp become a more hostile place. Once-reliable currents became erratic as random storms and squalls swept through the Warp, rendering galactic travel all but impossible. Thus isolated from every other world, the realms of Man became like the islands of ancient times, a collection of backwaters where attitudes of xenophobia and hatred of scientific progress became ingrained. Soon enough the populations of these worlds began to cast down the relics and symbols of the old regime, whom they blamed for the Age of Strife. Yet rejecting the past did not protect them from hostile xenos races, who only intensified their predation of the worlds of Man
However, these attitudes of suspicion toward the past were not completely widespread. There were those who knew that Mankind would need technology if it were to ever emerge from the Dark Age., This desire to retain knowledge manifested in various forms, from the Machinolatry of the groups which we know today as the Cult Mechanicus, to the feudal realms of the Knight Worlds which transformed their records into myth and legend. Perhaps the most hidden and esoteric of these organizations was the group known as the Order of the Sigillites. Little is known of their founders or origins, or even ultimate goals, but what is known for sure is that they counted many beings known as Perpetuals among their ranks.
Perpetuals
The Age of Strife birthed many mutant strains of humanity, from the diminutive Ratlings to the hulking Ogryn to the psychic Navigator Houses. However, mutation had touched Humanity long before the Dark Age of Technology. In the earliest days of civilization, beings known as Homo Superior took up roles as warlords and kings, for they were blessed with great vision and knowledge accumulated from their inherent immortality, from which they derived their names. It is believed that the Emperor of Man was one of these beings, though his origins, like all the rest of the Perpetuals, remains shrouded in mystery. By the Age of Strife, there were perhaps a few hundred Perpetuals amongst the teeming trillions of Humanity. They were a proud and selfish people, who considered their own goals paramount over everything else. When two Perpetuals met, it would often end in a duel to the death, for while immortal, they were not invincible.
Spread far and wide across the galaxy, the Order of the Sigillites worked tirelessly to preserve the cultural heritage of Humanity. It is impossible to tell what they saved versus what survived by chance, but their contribution to Humanity is incalculable. The identity of only one Sigillite still remains to this day, a Perpetual by the name of Brahm al-Khadour, and it is from his records we know the fate which befell them. Considered young by the rest of the Perpetuals, al-Khadour was a diplomat at heart, though others would call him a schemer, and he was always a wanderer. Though inexperienced, al-Khadour was perhaps the most powerful human psyker ever recorded, save for another Perpetual known only as the Revelation. The two quickly formed a friendship based on their shared gifts, and it was al-Khadour who bestowed the name-title of Emperor upon the Perpetual, agreeing to become his advisor.
However, the history of the Master of Mankind, while important, is not entirely pertinent to the creation of the Grey Knights, and thus we must focus our attention elsewhere. Suffice it say, the Emperor of Mankind had many Perpetuals as his allies or partners over the years, but one by one, they left or betrayed him, all save al-Khadour, who by the end of the Age of Strife bore the name of Malcador. In return, Revelation had destroyed them, for they represented threats to his goals. The Sigillite Order's work eventually came under scrutiny, for they possessed a fortress atop the Himalazian Mountains. The records tell of great atrocities committed by the Sigillites, for which the Emperor wiped them out, sparing only Malcador.
Now serving as the right hand of the Master of Mankind, Malcador the Sigillite, as he came to be known, served in a variety of roles, though his first was Administrator of the Imperial Palace. He was the Emperor's closest confidant, an almost-sinister vizier in hooded robes always by the Emperor's side whose wisdom could not be matched. His opinions held the weight of law, for he was the first being to be invested with Magisterium, which meant his words were those of the Emperor himself. His influence cannot be overstated, for he had a role in every project and institution of what would one day be the Imperium. However, while all of the Emperor's projects were his, this did not mean all of his plans were known to the Emperor.
Great Crusade- The First Lord of Terra
It is said one can learn a lot about a man from his companions. This aphorism seems to hold true even for godly beings such as the Emperor of Mankind, for to study the history and actions of Malcador during this time unveils far more about his past and personality than one would imagine. During the centuries leading up to the Unification Wars, Malcador was long renowned as the Emperor's right hand, an outstretched palm bearing an olive branch whose sincerity was only somewhat detracted from by the dagger concealed in sleeves wreathed in arcane symbols. His was the hidden and unspoken threat, in comparison to the blunt armored gauntlet of his Left Hand, the towering avatar of martial perfection that was Captain-General Constantin Valdor, Chief of the Custodes-Companions, His Bodyguard and sworn defender.
Malcador the Sigillite served for many years as the Emperor's Right Hand, privy to his plans like no other. He was the Emperor's oldest and dearest friend, the moon to his Terra, and theirs was a student-master relationship of unparalleled closest. Only the Emperor's Left Hand, Captain-General Constantin Valdor of the Legio Custodes, could come close to having a bond of trust with the Emperor of Man as Malcador did. Thus the Sigillite was aware of the Primarch project from the beginning, no doubt playing a pivotal role in the form it took. It was he who oversaw the Emperor's plans as Regent while his master was away, for sources seem to indicate the Master of Mankind was not present on Terra for much of the Age of Strife, but where he might have gone has been lost to history. Nonetheless, Malcador loyally awaited the return of his master centuries later, having stewarded and protected the small palace atop the Himalazian Plateau against all threats, for he was a mighty psyker.
When the Emperor eventually returned, he was greater than he had ever been. If rumors are to be believed, the Master of Mankind initially departed Terra on a starship, but returned without one, traveling through the storm-choked seas of the Warp now under his own power. The Emperor and Malcador now set to work on what we now know as the Primarch Project, a labor of centuries designed to create a worthy son who would aid them in the Pacification of Terra. Soon enough, their work yielded fruit, producing a single being, a proof of concept for the project that they named the Angel due to its magnificent wings. The Angel was the perfect weapon: twice the height of a man, his features identical to the Emperor's own, possessing an unshakable loyalty to the Master of Mankind and an inimical hatred of Chaos.
Stretching his mighty mind's eye across Terra, the Emperor found his first target, a Warp-corrupted duchy ruled by a Daemon Prince named Pharaa'gueotla. Accompanied only by the Angel, the Emperor set his son loose against the puppet-armies of the Daemon Prince. To his delight, the Angel proved utterly immune to the sorceries of the daemon, casting him down in a colossal battle that left nothing but craters where a city of daemon-worshippers once resided. However, as the Emperor finished imprisoning Pharaa'gueotla, he noticed the Angel had not stopped fighting. In his thirst for vengeance and hatred of Chaos, the Angel had begun to wipe out not only the Chaos-corrupted minions of the Daemon Prince, but towns that happened to border the daemon's domain. With sweeps of its blade which burned with the fire of a sun, the Angel was systematically exterminating entire cities, reducing their armies and people to ash. The Angel had become consumed in its desire to destroy anything touched by the Warp, and when it refused to obey its creator when he ordered him to halt, the Emperor was left with no choice.
Recognizing the Angel had the potential to wipe out Humanity, the Emperor was forced to bind his creation within a glowing stasis coffin, sealing it away beneath the depths of his fortress. Nonetheless, the test was mostly successful, for while he had fought the Daemon Prince, Malcador had been able to obtain a great deal of data regarding the experiment, which was then put to use in what they called the Primarch Project. Thus the next generation of heirs was soon underway, twenty beings each imbued with a shard of the Emperor's personality so as to give them humanity in place of the single-minded hatred for Chaos that the Angel had received. This new plan was met with mixed feelings from Valdor and Malcador: where the Captain-General viewed the entire project as a mistake, the closest he would ever come to disagreeing with the Emperor, the Sigillite wished to modify it. Rather than twenty sons, he wished to produce some females in order to improve the relationship dynamics amongst the primarchs, but the Emperor overruled him.
Over the following decades, as the Primarch Project progressed, the Unification Wars began, a centuries-long process to claim Terra and its resources in the name of the Emperor. During this time, Malcador remained hard at work, scouring Terra for worthy individuals to serve the nascent Imperium in the various institutions he was founding. It was he who served as the Emperor's Voice and Regent, negotiating dozens of settlements and pacts. In nearly every facet of the nascent Imperium save for its armies and war plans, it was Malcador who oversaw the groundwork to add the domains conquered in the Unification Wars, a grand endeavor which united Terra and her resources under the banners of the Master of Mankind. However, what truly distressed the Regent was the Primarch Project, for as it grew nearer to completion, the humanity of the Emperor of Man seemed to slip further and further away, leaving only the cold, logical portions behind.
Thus when he detected a powerful Warp incursion in the bowels of the Palace, Malcador was concerned indeed. Teleporting himself to the Emperor's laboratories, the Regent was disturbed to find only ruins in place of the once-pristine chamber. The pods containing the Primarch Pods were all gone, while the cogitators containing the data had been shredded. The Emperor was kneeling in the middle of the room, cradling a small object, and as the Sigillite entered, he turned around. However, rather than the fury Malcador had expected to see, which would have been an understandable reaction given the nature of the Emperor and the destruction of his work, there was only an impersonal, analytical expression on the Master of Mankind's face. In his arms was a single infant, one of the Primarchs yet somehow different.
Rather than showing concern or explaining what had occurred, the Emperor merely handed the infant over to Malcador, telling him 'its' name was Omegon and ordering him to raise 'it'. Thus over the following years, the Sigillite raised the boy in an underground village he had constructed, treating him like a nephew while his 'father' remained largely away. The Master of Mankind gradually grew more compassionate toward Omegon, but whether it was genuine love, a sporadic burst of concern, or merely a front remained a mystery even to Malcador. The Sigillite taught Omegon many things, especially the secret arts of spycraft and assassination, and the two grew very close over the following decades.
As the Unification Wars progressed and drew nearer to completion, Malcador grew ever-busier, doing his best to relieve the Master of Mankind who had begun to scout nearby worlds as he planned future conquests. Soon enough, the Regent found himself raising another Primarch, a boy named Horus found on a squalid backwater named Cthonia. While relieved that the fruits of his labor had survived, the Master of Mankind had been most disturbed to find his primarch was merely a scrawny boy rather than the mighty conquerors he had planned. Thus Malcador was left to raise him for as long as it took him to devise a method of artificially spurring his growth. The relationship between the Regent and Horus never blossomed like the one he had with Omegon, for the boy resented the Regent as the poor substitute for his real father.
Soon enough, the Emperor had discerned the best path forward, and so Malcador joined him, lending his psychic might to transfigure Horus from a youth into a demigod. It was now the ninth century of M30, and the armies of the Emperor had begun to make piecemeal incursions against the systems nearest to the Solar System. These were the first steps of what history calls the Great Crusade, and Malcador was there for it all, aiding and guiding the Legiones Astartes as they took systems such as the Beta-Garmon Cluster, Verzagen and Alpha Centauri, Necromunda, and beyond. Years turned into decades, and more and more primarchs began to turn up, each of which presented unique challenges due to their highly-unique upbringings. Some he was as close as family with, such as Leman Russ or Rogal Dorn, while others were companions, such as Sanguinius and Vulkan. Others he was merely neutral, such as Lorgar or the Lion, while many were actively hostile, such as Guilliman, Magnus, and Mortarion.
The Regent's relationships with the Primarchs became more strained over the years of the Great Crusade, for all were intensely proud men, and they reached their nadir as a result of the Rangdan Xenocides. The horrors of what befell / =][= REDACTED =][= / was terrible even for one as old as the Sigillite, for naturally the act of hiding the truth from the galaxy was a burden that fell upon his shoulders. Though most primarchs were sensible enough not to press him about it, there were those who could not leave well enough alone. On one occasion, Malcador had to demonstrate the strength of his resolve through psychic force to forestall the questions of Horus, Jaga Tikan, and Alpharius. Thus as the Great Crusade reached its zenith, the Regent found himself increasingly burdened by both secrets and labor.
Twilight of Unity- The Best-Laid Plans
In the eyes of the wider galaxy, the Ullanor Crusade was the pinnacle of Mankind's efforts to conquer the galaxy. In decades past, during the Rangdan Xenocides, the Great Crusade had seemed an uncertain thing, teetering on destruction in the face of the antediluvian horrors which assailed it on all sides. As Regent of Terra and the Right Hand of the Emperor, it was Malcador's duty to prepare for every eventuality, no matter how unthinkable. Thus in both danger and in glory, in the time of both Rangdan Xenocides and in the Ullanor Crusade, the Sigillite was kept busy laying the groundwork for future contingency plans. Though the unflagging vision of the Emperor meant he refused to contemplate such setbacks, the cynical Malcador was nonetheless given free reign to continue his projects, mostly public though with more than a few hidden in the shadows.
While the Master of Mankind looked the other way, both from disinterest and distaste, the Sigillite shaped what would become the Adeptus Terra into a network capable of exerting authority across the galaxy. Imperial High Command, that network of generals and admirals who acted more as messengers than any true powers in their own right, served as little more than Malcador's mouthpieces, announcing campaign strategies and directives as though they were their own. The Administratum, composed of the Departmento Munitorum and dozens of other branches, formed the interstitial branches of Imperial authority, connecting a million worlds together as one. And in the shadows, six Assassinorum Clades, whose Sires answered only to Malcador himself, served to keep the bureaucrats in line.
However, Malcador's influence was not limited to baseline mortals. The Regent had realized early on the threat represented by the Legiones Astartes. Unlike Captain-General Valdor, who made no secret of his distaste for the Primarchs due to the liability they presented, Malcador's own opinions of the Emperor's Sons was generally positive. However, he knew he would be remiss not to plan for every possible treachery, even from the most unthinkable, and thus even his contingencies had contingencies, wheels within wheels within wheels. For isolated incidents of trouble, there were the Assassins. Should a potential hazard prove too large for them, the Sigillite could reply upon Omegon and the Alpha Legion, many of whom he had trained since the days of the Unification Wars. However, Malcador was loath to entrust every task to a group as independent and willful as the Hydra, who had no doubt seeded their own operatives into his organizations just as he had theirs.
Thus the Crusader Host had been founded. Initially taken fully from the Alpha Legion, the Crusader Host continually expanded to include members from all twe-/ =][= REDACTED =][= /-eighteen legions, primarily Terrans whom the Sigillite had personally selected to become Astartes, along with more than a few mortal auxiliaries. This network initially served little purpose other than information gathering to keep the Regent apprised of legion activities, but began to take on new urgency after the appointment of the Warmaster and the Council of Nikaea. Suddenly what had once been idle speculation, the common grumbles amongst the enlisted ranks of the Legiones Astartes and Imperial Army, now became altogether more threatening. Secret societies of varying types began to spread across entire regiments, dozens of layers concealing the activities of their leaders from Malcador's Agents, while fraternal clubs known as Warrior Lodges played a similar role in the companies of the Legiones Astartes.
This sudden blank spot in the maps of Malcador's knowledge of galactic affairs was only compounded by an upsurge in Warp-storm activity. Soon enough, half a dozen legions out on campaign had ceased communicating with Terra, while others began to stop crusading entirely. The Regent attempted to bring such matters up to the Emperor, but the Master of Mankind repeatedly dismissed him. Since the Council of Nikaea, his attention had remained firmly fixed on the Human Webway Project, a personal project he had stepped back from the Great Crusade to work on. While the Sigillite recognized its importance to the future of Mankind, for it would free the Imperium from the crippling reliance upon the Warp for travel, he could not afford to ignore the problems of the present.
It was at this time Malcador recalled the Emperor's warning from long ago, back in the early years of the Unification Wars just before the Scattering, that fateful day when the Primarchs had been stolen away. The Regent had been away at the time, carrying out some unlauded but necessary work in his master's name. According to the Emperor's recounting, a man bearing a greatsword upon his back had appeared in the heart of his laboratories, his face concealed by a hood that hid it even from his superhuman vision. However, the most unbelievable part was that the Stranger reminded the Master of Mankind of himself more than anything, a man who spoke in many voices at once. The Stranger warned him the Primarch Project and its fruits would have terrible consequences, before vanishing once more. The Emperor believed it to be another version of himself, while Malcador had dismissed it as just one more of the galaxy's great mysteries. However, now centuries later, his warnings about the Primarchs seemed prophetic.
The threat posed by the conquerors of the galaxy now seemed to be more imminent than potential, for present on Terra was not just one but two legions. The Salamanders, whose primarch Vulkan had been named Praetorian of Terra, had been entrusted with building up the Imperial Palace; who was to say they were not seeding hidden flaws within its bulwarks? The Thousand Sons, whose primarch Magnus Rufus had been censured at Nikaea for sorcery, had been dispersed amongst the other legions, but the Fellowship on Terra counted the most powerful psykers in all the legions amongst their ranks, a threat far in excess of what their small numbers might otherwise present. The loyalty of the Eighteenth and Fifteenth, and all the other Legions for that matter, was too dangerous to leave to chance, and thus the Sigillite turned to more drastic measures, a monster from the Age of Strife he had hoped to never unearth: Basilio Fo.
Basilio Fo
Flesh Splicer. Father of Abominations. Scourge of the Selenar. These are but some of the many epithets accumulated over the centuries-long life of the self-titled Worker of Obscenity. Basilio Fo was a monster, even by the standards of the Dark Age of Technology, for the horrors he crafted warranted him the death sentence a thousand times over. As the Emperor of Mankind consolidated his hold over Terra, Fo saw the writing on the wall, fleeing into the blackness of deep space to escape justice, declaring he would find a new home whose people would appreciate his 'art' for what it was.
Presumed dead for decades, Fo was later discovered by a Crusade fleet led by Hastur Sejanus, favored son of Horus Lupercal, upon the world of Velich Tarn. Fo had not been idle, crafting hundreds of cyberzerkers, biome-cannibals, and Misbegots out of an uncountable number of innocent victims he had taken to be his test subjects. In response to this horror, Sejanus and the Sixteenth Legion destroyed each and every one of Fo's abominations before taking him to Lupercal as an unwilling captive, who returned him to the Blackstone Prison on Terra. Since then, the Last Lord of Old Night had evinced a desire for death repeatedly, proclaiming he 'did not want to live in a cosmos where things like (Lupercal and the Astartes) are loose'.
Now decades later, Malcador found himself forced to agree with Fo's assessment. The Order of Remembrancers, an organization founded by the Sigillite decades earlier that was dedicated to documenting the Legiones Astartes and covering up the mistakes they had made, had uncovered countless atrocities perpetrated by the legions that had been brushed over in the name of expediency. Malcador had spent many sleepless nights working to conceal the constant infighting between the primarchs, wondering more than once why the Emperor had allowed and even encouraged his sons to be at each other's throats so often. Such self-destructive rivalries now threatened the very fabric of the Imperium, as evidenced by all the legions that had stopped reporting, a problem that would need to be solved eventually.
Descending into the depths of the Imperial Dungeons, the Regent was unsurprised to find the Worker of Obscenity was still alive, for he had no doubt experimented upon himself to drastically increase his lifespan. After a night of negotiation, Fo was seized by the Custodes and taken away as all records of him ever being there were destroyed. Fo was hurried off to a secret fortress hidden amongst the Antarctic Wastes crewed by mortal agents of Malcador. There, under orders of the Regent, he turned his hatred of Astartes toward a new and more terrible purpose: a virus capable of destroying the Legions themselves. However, the fruits of this project would not be uncovered for many years to come, and thus other, more important events soon unfolded even while Fo remained hidden, laboring away in secret.
By 011.M31, barely a decade after the Triumph of Ullanor, the Imperium seemed to hold its breath as it hovered on the cusp of some great and terrible new epoch. While the Warmaster oversaw the Great Crusade, and the Master of Mankind busied himself building his Human Webway, the Regent had spent many long hours tending to Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Fifteenth Legion, who had been imprisoned in the Imperial Palace for repeatedly disobeying the Emperor. Malcador genuinely wished to make the Crimson King see reason, for he would be vital in maintaining the Human Webway Project as his psychic potential was as great as Malcador's own, but their conversations never seemed to make any progress toward rehabilitation. Hubris had gotten the better of the Sigillite, who doubted even one such as Magnus could escape Terra, and now they would pay the price for it, for on that day, the Regent of the Imperium of Man would receive a grim reminder.
Emerging unexpectedly from the Warp, a ship bearing the flag of the Sixteenth Legion entered the Solar System, bearing the comatose body of Warmaster Horus Lupercal in a stasis coffin. Even the Emperor had seemingly not foreseen this, and quickly set aside his work on the Human Webway Project to rush to his son's side in order to heal him. With the Master of Mankind now occupied, another petal of the disaster unfolded. Through careful sabotage long hidden, the Crimson King escaped his chambers, descending into the depths of the Palace to wreak havoc upon the esoteric devices of the Golden Throne. How Magnus possessed knowledge of its existence and why he sought to destroy it was entirely unknown, but the results were catastrophic.
As psychic alarms began to scream out, the Regent was alerted to the danger beneath the Palace. Already Malcador could sense the denizens of the Immaterium pressing toward Terra, threatening to swallow the homeworld and everything upon it. When he teleported to view the damage for himself, Malcador was dismayed at what Magnus had done, but there was no time to pursue him. After sending off a handful of mental commands to various agents, the Regent of Terra sat the Golden Throne, marshaling his prodigious psychic might to contain the catastrophic energies. As every cell of his body burned and shrieked with ever-growing intensity, Malcador simultaneously closed every leak through which the protean madness of the Warp sought to enter the Materium, while at the same time holding open the tunnels of the Human Webway Project, for he knew how much Humanity's future depended on its now-remote chances of success.
What was in reality no more than a few hours felt like an eternity of agony to him, and it was with grateful relief that Malcador tumbled off the Golden Throne, his burden eased by the Master of Mankind himself, who undid a great portion of the catastrophic psychopyric damage etched into the Regent's body with but the touch of his hand. The burden he had shouldered had brought him closer to true death than ever before, and as Malcador regained consciousness, he marveled at how readily his friend shouldered not only the agonizing burdens he had carried, but even more atop that, for added to them was the weight of directing the light of the Astronomican. His body still shaking as his Perpetual nature undid the remainder of the damage, Malcador was helped to his feet by a pair of Custodians.
The Regent now began the long walk back to the upper levels of the Imperial Palace, seeking to find Vulkan. When the disaster had first begun, Malcador had reached out to the Praetorian, a test of loyalty commanding him to make for the Imperial Dungeons, for his strength would be needed to hold back the horrors erupting from the Human Webway Portal should the Regent fail. Malcador was greatly relieved to find he had only been half-right in his suspicions, for Vulkan had obeyed the order and been proven loyal, whereas Magnus was a traitor beyond a doubt. Evidence of the Crimson King's treachery was everywhere, for the bodies of dozens of Thousand Sons lay strewn about the Warp-altered corridors, cut down by the Custodes while in their attempt to fight their way free of the Palace. The Fifteenth were now gone from Terra, escaping in the tumult of the Warmaster's arrival, all save a single legionary by the name of Revuel Arvida, who swiftly agreed to be inducted as one of Malcador's Agents now that his brothers were traitors.
While slowly hobbling up through the halls, Malcador found himself passed by hundreds of Custodes, no doubt hurrying to aid their Master down in the dungeons. It was here that he was found by Vulkan, who relayed how the Crimson King had attacked him. In turn, the Regent elucidated the Praetorian as to his Perpetual nature before swearing him to secrecy regarding the events of Magnus's treachery. As Vulkan hurried off to begin his tasks, Malcador made his way back to his quarters. There over the following weeks he spent most of his time in convalescence, overseeing governance while his body healed itself. It was for just such an occasion, one where both he and the Emperor were occupied or incapacitated, that Malcador had built up the Adeptus Terra, and to his pride, they carried out their tasks with efficiency, despite the fact news of the wider galaxy was ever-diminishing.
Thus when news of an assault on Mars reached the Palace, the Regent and the Praetorian were quickly alerted, for the Fabricator-General himself came to bear it, now exiled from his realm. Leery of relying upon another Astartes Legion, Malcador in the end yielded to Vulkan's suggestion of summoning Ferrus Manus and the Iron Hands to deal with the crisis after an initial attempt to retake the Forge World Principal had only partially succeeded in seizing vital supplies. However, with ever-increasing Warp-storm activity, it was nearly a year before the Tenth arrived to begin their assault upon the Red Planet, by which time Horus finally awoke from his coma. Long since healed, the Regent made his way to the Medical Wing to update the Warmaster on the status of the galaxy.
The humbled Lupercal quickly affirmed his obedience to the Emperor before departing with his legion and fleet, which had been billeted in the Jovian Shipyards while they waited for their primarch to recover. Thus while Lupercal went to assess the status of the Great Crusade in his absence, and Ferrus Manus dealt with the dogged resistance of the rebellion upon Mars, Malcador and Vulkan began to build up the Imperial Palace, preparing the Throneworld of the Imperium for the storm that seemed about to bear down upon them. However, preparation did not preclude attempting to avert the dangers. Thus Malcador summoned Constantin Valdor, investing him with the task of hunting down the traitorous Magnus the Red. The Captain-General quickly assented, for he more than anyone knew the danger Magnus presented to Terra, and soon departed, accompanied by a trio of Custodes vessels that carried agents of the Regent amongst the ranks of his Censure Host.
Leonine Heresy- The Outcast Dead
It was the thirteenth year of a new millennium. Without fail, every reading of the Imperial Tarot, an esoteric means of divining the future through psycho-reactive cards, foretold impending and imminent doom. However, Malcador was not the sort of man to yield without a fight. With the Emperor of Man now fully occupied for over a year holding shut the Gateway ruined by Magnus the Red, governance of Terra and the Imperium as a whole was in the Regent's hands. However, such power was at the moment more theoretical than practical, for as warp-storm activity continued to intensify, more and more of the galaxy became more difficult to call upon. With his millennia of experience, Malcador knew full well that these storms were unlikely to be natural: it was all but certain the Primordial Annihilator was plotting.
The Regent knew it was vital to uncover their schemes before it was too late; to defeat such an enemy, information would be required. However, any substantial fleet would take too long to gather and would have very little chance at surviving the tides. Thus the Sigillite turned to the resources he had on Terra, descending into the depths of the Khangba Marwu, an ancient prison now being retrofitted into something capable of holding primarchs. In the meantime, its current occupants, the object of the Regent's attention, were far less impressive: a group of Astartes from the various legions known as the Outcast Dead. These Space Marines had been sent to Terra decades earlier as an honor guard, though the reason for such an assignment had been long forgotten. Now without any way to know which were loyal, they had all been imprisoned by the Custodes until their loyalty could be verified. Such confirmation was likely to be years in coming, if ever, hence the name Outcast Dead, but Malcador had a rather different plan for them.
After many hours of meetings, the Sigillite had confirmed the loyalties of most of the Outcast Dead. Those who seemed untrustworthy were executed, while those who had agreed to serve were dispatched across the galaxy, sent to gather information and other like-minded individuals from their legions. Over the following three years, very few of these Astartes ever returned, often carrying grim tidings of traitor activities. What happened to the others has been lost to history, but rumors and legends arising many decades after the Heresy speak of feats almost too incredible to be believed, from entering the Ruinstorm in order to infiltrate the realm of Ultramar, to an assault upon the Phalanx, the massive star fort that served as the flagship of Rogal Dorn.
Joining the Outcast Dead in these clandestine missions were the Astartes of the Crusader Host. These men, once part of the Warmaster's Legion Auxilia, returned alongside the Sons of Horus to the Throneworld after Lupercal returned to Terra following his defeat on the world of Molech. The Regent was quite dismayed to hear the grim tidings Horus and Mortarion brought with them, for he had hoped none would ever discover the dark secrets of that planet. Even more disturbing was the fact that Lion El'Jonson was one of the traitors, for while he had always been a loner, El'Jonson's loyalty had never been questioned. The Lord of the First had always been something of an enigma, an apex predator who unnerved even his brothers. Such was the Emperor's complete trust in the Lord of the First that he had been given perhaps more than any of his brothers, from a veritable trove of archeotech weapons, to the primary responsibility of handling the war against the Rangda, and even the knowledge of Chaos and the Warp, the only one of the primarchs to have been so entrusted.
The fact that the Emperor's judgment had been so completely wrong greatly disturbed Malcador. That Lion El'Jonson of all primarchs had not only turned his back on the Emperor but had obtained power at Molech was beyond grave. Though neither Horus nor Mortarion, nor Vulkan nor Ferrus understood the true implications of this, Malcador certainly did, for what had once been a rebellion had now been transformed into a war for survival, for whatever bargain El'Jonson had made with the Primordial Annihilator now made him a legitimate threat to reality itself. Though the future was as yet unsure, the Lion had already irreparably harmed the Imperium by destroying the fragile trust built over the centuries of the Great Crusade. The growing disruptions in the Warp were now revealed as part of a greater pattern, one visible only to a select knowledgeable few such as Malcador.
Soon enough, the Regent had ascertained the disposition of traitor forces, and with that knowledge, he could now begin planning for the future, an outcome tolerable if not favorable to the Emperor and himself. The Regent's goals were to provide adequate fail-safes for the worst case scenarios, and to that end, he provided the Praetorian with many schematics hailing from the Dark Age of Technology and even before. Should the traitors prove successful in conquering Terra, they would find no succor, their gods choking on the Throneworld like poison concealed within a sweet. Such desperate acts were all they had to place their trust in, for the news that both Dorn and Perturabo were traitors was a threat of nearly unimaginable danger.
Perhaps the only thing that kept the Regent and his people from giving into despair at that news was the knowledge that the Alpha Legion had remained loyal. With their aid, along with around nearly two hundred or so Astartes answering directly to him, Malcador transformed his Outcast Dead and Crusader Host into a new order, the Knights-Errant, tasked with retrieving vital relics and carrying out clandestine operations in his name. In the dark days of the Leonine Heresy, many acts of heroism often went unnoticed and unrewarded. The greatest of the Knights-Errant fought and died in the shadows, their sacrifices known only to their fellows. Such was the case with the Battle of Tallarn, where the largest mechanized engagement in recorded history served as the backdrop of a far greater threat. Located on the eastern edge of Segmentum Tempestus, Tallarn was once a verdant paradise, its vast plains given over to agriculture. It had little in the way of defenses aside from a few orbital platforms, for it had nothing to offer but the food it produced, harvested by millions of harvest engines. Such was its irrelevance that the people of Tallarn had barely heard of the Legiones Astartes when an entire fleet of warships entered its orbit without warning.
Intent on obtaining resources for upcoming offensives, or more likely just seeking an outlet for their hate and spite, a Seventh Legion fleet headed by Captain Alexis Polux of the Crimson Fists announced their presence with a salvo of warheads. Unaware of the Leonine Heresy, the governor of Tallarn was utterly confused at Polux's demands, but his hesitation engendered only catastrophe. The Crimson Fists unleashed a devastating bombardment of Tallarn, rendering it a toxic desert wasteland populated by the burnt corpses of tens of millions of farmers. Yet when the Seventh Legion descended to the surface to begin excavations, their landing parties came under attack from the vengeful survivors who had survived by hiding in the countless underground silo-complexes. Due to the deadly radiation on the surface, infantry combat was impossible, even for Astartes, so the people of Tallarn fought from within hastily-converted harvesters armed with various armaments from the planetary defense forces.
Polux's forces soon found themselves under attack from all sides, for the loyalists forces committed themselves to vengeance at any cost. The people of Tallarn quickly learned they could not match the Seventh Legion in open combat, and soon shifted to asymmetrical warfare, hit and run tactics which achieved victories at staggering cost. Calls for aid soon reached other worlds nearby, and soon Imperial reinforcements began to pour in, dumping tens of thousands of armored vehicles onto Tallarn to tip the scales in their favor. Amidst the choking dust storms, a series of running tank battles took place, a lesson in sunk-cost fallacy as both sides fought over a world seemingly utterly worthless. The Crimson Fists seemed to be searching the planet for something, determined to retain their foothold at any cost, and after the third Imperial assault to seize their stronghold known as the Sightless Warren failed, the loyalist Governor-Militant knew they would need help if they were to liberate Tallarn.
These renewed calls for aid were soon answered by a force of Legiones Astartes known as the Blackshields. Just over a year into the conflict, a mixed host of Raven Guard and Alpha Legionnaires arrived unannounced, quickly proving their worth. The Astartes of Nineteenth were masters of ambush warfare: in a little over two months, the legionary sniper known as Nykona Sharrowkyn picked off a dozen Crimson Fists captains. The Alpha Legion took a different approach, leveraging their skills at subterfuge to pose as traitors, luring the Crimson Fists into the storms where they were never seen again. In response, more vessels of the Seventh Legion began to arrive, forcing the loyalists to shepherd their resources so as to not be wiped out all at once. The Crimson Fists were denied the decisive battle they sought, but it seemed likely victory would be theirs, for the longer the Blackshields remained on Tallarn, the more worlds the traitors were able to take elsewhere in their absence.
Viewed from this angle, the Battle of Tallarn seems unremarkable compared to the rest of the engagements unfolding across the galaxy during the Leonine Heresy. However, the battle's true importance is revealed by the presence of nearly a dozen Knights-Errant hidden amongst the loyalist ranks. How they arrived is unknown, for even the Alpha Legion was seemingly unaware of their presence, but their goals were of paramount importance: to deny the Crimson Fists the power they sought. As Polux's forces dug deeper and deeper, daemonic whispers had begun to haunt the dreams of all presence, their immaterial whispers attracting the attention of the Regent. Leading the Knights-Errant was the former librarian Tylos Rubio, whose precognitive skills served to further draw out the campaign by averting many near-disasters. It was Rubio who provoked the beginning of the end by advising the Governor-Militant to commit his forces to an all-or-nothing strike, hundreds of thousands of tanks, walkers, and even Titans marching against the main traitor encampment, who were forced to respond in kind.
Faced with a chance to eliminate the loyalist holdouts once and for all, Polux seized the opportunity, deploying his entire force against them. For nearly two hundred continuous hours, the two foes grinded against each other, sundering war machines by the tens of thousands in a colossal mechanized engagement that rendered an entire continent a graveyard of rusting metal. In the shadows of this conflict, Rubio and his Knights-Errant struck at the Crimson Fists main excavation site, diverting enough of its defenders away for another of Malcador's agents, an Infocyte agent of the Vanus Clade of the Assassinorum, to infiltrate their flagship. Through complex data-alteration and pict-manipulation, a falsified transmission was created, an order purporting to originate from Rogal Dorn himself that commanded Captain Polux to recall his forces and return to his primarch's side. As the radiation slowly abated in the wake of the departure of the traitor force, Tallarn broadcast her defiance, wholly unaware her salvation was due to the work of Malcador's Agents.
Another instance of the hidden hands of Malcador at work came at the Battle of Trisolian, where Agents Iacton Qruze and Severian had rejoined their parent legion in secret even from their own father and brothers. Even as the Warmaster's Legion began to fall back from Trisolian to avoid encirclement, these two Sons of Horus remained, hiding amongst the dead for weeks. Now alone amidst the ashes of a world heavily bombarded by traitor warships and polluted beyond recovery by the Emperor's Children, Severian and Qruze searched the mountains of the dead, recovering the dog-tags of the slain and what little gene-seed they could. However, to their surprise, they discovered they were not the only living beings on Trisolian, for in one of the most toxic regions on the entire planet, they found one of their brothers still alive: Garviel Loken.
Pierced by the toxic blades of Lord-Commander Eidolon, the Captain of the Tenth Company had escaped death only by the narrowest of margins, spared by fate for some unknown reason. When Malcador's Agents discovered this sole survivor, they found a madman who believed himself to be the last remaining Son of Horus. The Astartes had renamed himself, becoming a Legion of One as the warrior Cerberus, sworn to destroy the minions of Chaos. Only some inchoate recollection of his former companions led Cerberus to spare Qruze when the Agents stumbled upon him, for their armor still bore faint marks of their former legion. With the amnesiac warrior in tow, Qruze and Severian continued to the next stage of their mission: infiltrating Caliban, homeworld of the Dark Angels. Accompanying the former Sons of Horus on such a perilous mission was the legionary known only as the Nemean, a disconcerting but loyal Dark Angel who had joined the Sigillite's cause for reasons known only to him. His knowledge was invaluable for infiltrating the Death World, where the four Knights-Errant linked up with Astelan, the First of the First whom they learned was leading a rebellion against his traitorous kin.
Upon learning of the depth of Luther's depravity, the Knights-Errant knew they could not allow the Chaos-corrupted Sons of Caliban to join the Heresy. Thus they pledged their service to Astelan's cause, aiding him in his struggle. The Knights-Errant were able to operate in the shadows, guided by the mysterious Nemean in a quest that led them across the forested Death World as they sought to uncover what the Grandmaster was plotting, often fighting beside the Unsullied while at other times on their own as they battled against his minions. Many of their operations saw them destroy rune-lined caves containing glowing green Wyrdstone along with vast chains that the traitorous Dark Angels were desperate to conceal. What purpose these stones and chains held was unknown to the Knights-Errant, but if the traitors were interested in them, they could not be allowed to remain.
Over the course of months, Cerberus slowly regained his former identity, the personality of Loken resurfacing more and more frequently until it became dominant once more. However, his dissociative amnesia would continue to plague him, provoking seizures and fits of rage when faced with particular instances of depravity and corruption. It was a great setback to the efforts of the Unsullied that one of these paroxysms occurred during a battle in a cave beneath the dismal swamp known as the Shadowmire, and soon Cerberus found himself in chains at the heart of Castle Camlann, Luther's personal fortress. Despite his unmarked grey power armor, the traitorous Grandmaster quickly recognized the Astartes as one of Horus's sons due to his Cthonian accent. However, Luther seemed unsure of his captive's loyalty, for while he knew of the Leonine Heresy, the Lion had seemingly failed to inform his foster-father which primarchs and legions were loyal to his cause.
Unwilling to immediately kill Cerberus lest he be an agent of the Lion sent to monitor his activities, Luther fixed his full attention upon the captive. The other Knights-Errant soon ascertained Loken's location, following the Grandmaster's minions into the heart of Castle Camlann. They were accompanied in their mission by Astelan's forces, who saw this as a chance to deal a setback to their traitorous brethren. The First of the First confronted Luther atop the ramparts of his lair, diverting his attention while Severian and the Nemean freed Loken from the dungeons. Meanwhile, Qruze and the Unsullied sabotage the reactors at the heart of Castle Camlann, unleashing a catastrophic chain reaction that destroyed Luther's fortress. Victory was not without its cost, for Luther slew Qruze through the use of sorcery before escaping the destruction of his fortress in a similar manner.
With Luther's plans dealt a substantial setback, the work of the Knights-Errant on Caliban seemed to complete. Though he wished more than anything to return to Terra, Astelan declined the Knights-Errant's offer to leave Caliban. The First of the First was sworn to free Caliban from the traitor's grasp or die trying, and thus the three Agents of the Sigillite left the Unsullied on their own to continue the fight. They returned to their shuttle, preparing to depart the forest world, and as they lifted off, they were watched by dozens of pairs of glowing red eyes. Only the Watchers in the Dark were aware of the threat that had inadvertently been unleashed, but such consequences would not be obvious for many years to come, an antediluvian horror which would come to haunt the Sigillite's men many centuries in the future.
The Second Founding- An Unbreakable Shield
Across the galaxy, the Agents of the Sigillite began to make their way through the Warp Storms, returning to Terra to report back to Malcador on the progress they had made. The information they had gathered painted a grim picture, their journey taking them through a galaxy convulsed by war, discovering countless dead worlds and even more systems in traitor hands. Though dismayed at such waste, the Sigillite seemed unsurprised by their reports. He had been far from idle while they were away, acting through mortal agents while he himself was occupied dealing with threats to Terra. Dozens of Chaotic cults had infiltrated the Throneworld, often subverting protests against the Praetorian's security measures into rebellions against the Imperium itself. The daemons of the Warp began to manifest upon Terra, called into being by foul sacrifices that had to be put down with extreme prejudice.
Such assaults were often highly-psychic in nature, requiring Malcador's attention as Vulkan and his Astartes had comparatively little experience in dealing with the daemonic. Even as the walls of Terra rose ever-higher, its depths were being purged in clandestine operations spearheaded by the Custodes assisted by Agents of the Sigillite. Theirs was a silent war, always hidden from the wider galaxy and even from the Praetorian and his sons at times, for Vulkan did not approve of the Regent's increasing subversion of his orders. Despite their role as the Guardians of Terra, the Salamanders were not privy to all of the Sigillite's actions, and more than a few met violent ends at the hands of the Sigillite's Agents, drastic actions that Malcador tacitly orchestrated in order to keep his activities secret. Acting on his authority as Regent, the Sigillite laid the groundwork for the future, determined to carry on the torch of the Emperor's vision even if the Imperium should be overcome by its treacherous legions.
As the years of the Heresy ground on, Vulkan's attention was more and more diverted, until the day finally came when he ventured into the Webway to fight for the Emperor directly. With the Praetorian now fully occupied, Malcador was free to put the final stages of his preparations into effect. As one, his agents across the Solar System and beyond began to seize the last of supplies by any means necessary, for secrecy was beyond paramount in this endeavor. Dozens of ships were diverted to the Outer Solar System, to the ring-world of Saturn, where they deposited their cargoes onto the icy moon of Titan before having their crews mind-wiped upon departure. This vast expenditure went towards the creation of a massive fortress, one designed to safeguard the best hope for the future. Its stones were taken from dying worlds as their legacy to the Imperium, each brick inscribed with the name of a planet lost to the forces of Chaos as a symbol of Humanity's resilience and desire to endure in the face of unimaginable horrors.
From vast stores of gene-seed and power armor, to towering stacks of tomes and ancient lore, to the facilities needed to outfit and repair whole armies and fleets, the Agents of the Regent gathered enough resources to supply an entire legion. All was kept secret from loyalists and traitors alike, preparing to make the end coming upon them into a new beginning. Malcador could sense the Lion's forces preparing to enter the Solar System, and thus he hurried to complete his preparations, gathering what he required to face the future. Thus the Regent called his Knights-Errant to his side once more. The years of conflict had not been kind to them, whittling their numbers down from a few hundred down to only a handful. Many had perished halting daemonic incursions, which were growing ever-more frequent, such as the pestilent daemonhost known as the Lord of the Flies, the latest in a long line of assaults designed to wear down the loyalists before the Traitor Legions had even arrived.
As the last of the supply ships were being unloaded on Titan, Malcador issued his orders to the gathered Knights-Errant deep within the Imperial Palace, hidden far from any wandering eyes. To each was given a choice: to serve Malcador and the Emperor to the bitter end, and have their very names forgotten, or to return to their parent legions, to win everlasting glories atop the Palace Walls. The choice was easy for those Knights-Errant hailing from traitor legions, for they had renounced their past long ago, but others found their choice more difficult. It was to the credit of the Regent's judgment that the vast majority of legionaries elected to keep serving. These Astartes received their new assignment, dispersing across the various wings of the Palace in preparation to answer the call when needed. However, for nine of the Knights-Errant, fate held a different role for them.
Following the Sigillite into his private quarters, these Astartes descended down and down into the depths of the Palace, through hidden passageways known only to the Regent. When they emerged, the Astartes saw they were not alone, for four mortals waited for them, along with two altogether more awe-inspiring presences. Mortarion, Primarch of the Death Guard, stood at the base of a colossal pyramid, whose summit was wreathed in psychic storms, his omnipresent scowl as fearsome as ever. Beside him stood Vulkan, Praetorian of Terra, slightly shorter than his brother but far broader in a suit of armor whose scales were almost entirely covered by gore and ichor. As Malcador emerged from behind his chosen champions, the Death Lord confronted him, demanding answers. Undaunted by the threatening aura of the giant primarch, Malcador remained calm, answering his questions before redirecting the conversation.
Now speaking to both the primarchs and the Knights-Errant, Malcador unveiled his vision of the future: a new legion of warriors, dedicated to fighting Chaos and the depredations of the Warp. Even the ill-tempered Mortarion seemed mollified as he learned these secrets, a process helped along by hidden psykana on the part of Malcador. The Sigillite was visibly strained as his will contended with that of Mortarion's, a contest obscured by the visions filling the minds of all present. The Regent showed them the fates he had foreseen should they fail, of the Warp swamping all reality as daemons rampaged across the galaxy unhindered, of primarchs crucified to the walls of the Imperial Palace as the sky and ground split forth. Malcador's expression was one of sorrow long hidden now unveiled, for such measures meant the end was approaching in such a way that they were unprepared to meet it.
Yet hope still remained in the wizened Sigillite. By the time the Regent finished speaking, the Death Lord seemed almost hypnotized, and the Knights-Errant stood amazed as Malcador finished imprinting a series of subconscious commands into the psyche of a primarch, laying the groundwork for the future. His purpose here fulfilled, Mortarion turned away and left the chamber. Malcador assured his champions the primarch would have no memory of this encounter, and as the imposing presence of the primarch faded, the nine Knights-Errant found themselves able to perceive what lay at the height of the pyramid for the first time. Looking up and up and up, the Astartes were astounded to see the Emperor himself, rising up from a towering Golden Throne.
Loken stared upward, his aching body now soothed at long last. The lingering pains inflicted by the Soul-Severed's blades vanished, healed by the mere presence of his Creator, who seemed to smile as he gazed upon him. Tearing his gaze away from the golden giant, Loken could tell his eight companions were similarly affected, for they had all fallen to their knees at the sight of the Master of Mankind.
+Rise, my children. I would not have my loyal warriors stare at the ground while I converse with them.+
"You have been Chosen." The familiar voice of the Regent rang out. Cerberus and his brothers turned to look back at Malcador, leaning heavily upon his staff. Beside him was a figure none of them recognized, a tall and rake-thin man with dull, violet eyes staring blankly into the distance. "You are bound by fate to become Titans, to be the Nine Who Are Named. It is you who would avert the deep future where humanity has lost, tempered in the crucible of the most brutal war the galaxy has ever known, in order to carry out the duties of a conflict of such scope that it dwarfs that conflict. You will be the foundations of a legion, a knightly order to fight the war that never ends."
"But we are only nine. A legion cannot be forged overnight, it would take generations, time that we do not have with the traitors upon our doorstep." A heavily-accented voice rang out from beside Cerberus. Looking over, the former Son of Horus found he knew the legionary's name despite having never met him before: Yotun.
+Time you shall have, centuries of it. Along with all the resources you will need. I will forge your souls into swords, your minds into shields.+ The Master of Mankind turned, gazing upon each of the Nine in turn. Malcador's attendant stepped forward, laying long-fingered hands upon a gateway of ancient bone which began to glow in response.
+My Friend, My Regent, has judged you, as have I, and you have been found Worthy. Take these coins, and become Titans of a new legion. Koios, Iapto, Khyron, Epithemius, Yotun, Cerberus, Pangu, Crius, and Ianius: together you shall be my Knights of Grey, forever loyal, forever veiled in secrecy. One unbreakable shield against the coming darkness, one last blade forged in defiance of fate. Be my legacy to the galaxy I conquered, and my final gift to the species I failed.+
As the Emperor finished speaking, he seemed to fade away, and with a start, the Nine realized no time at all had passed, nor had he even stepped down from the Golden Throne. The Regent beckoned them toward the gateway, and one by one, they passed through it, stepping over the withered body of Malcador's attendant. As the last of them stepped through, the Sigillite turned to Vulkan, who had yet to say a word. Malcador nodded to the Praetorian, who bent down to attach a talisman to the intricate mechanisms of the Golden Throne. His task complete, the Praetorian left the room, leaving Malcador with the four mortals who had been standing silently at the back of the chamber. To each of these men and women were given the same choice as that of the Knights-Errant, to which all accepted. Their loyalty assured, the Regent entrusted them with his personal sigil, tasking them with scouring Terra and keeping it safe in his absence.
As the portal began to flicker, Malcador gave his friend one final look, noting with pity the strain the Master of Mankind was under as he held back the consequences of Magnus's treachery. Part of him wished to stay, to shoulder the burden that the Emperor might step off the Throne once more and defeat his errant children. Yet having sat the Throne before, the Regent knew all too well the agony would destroy him. Casting his mind out, he observed the Death Lord marching through the corridors, unaware of the geas placed upon him. Mortarion of Barbarus, Mortarion the Hero, shouldering the burdens no others could stand, the Regent thought to himself as he stepped through the portal, leaving Terra to its fate. He had done all he could for its defense these past few years, rooting out treachery and laying the foundations for the Imperium to come. Now it was up to the Praetorian and his brothers to hold the walls so that the Sigillite and his Knights would have something to come back to.
Refuge From the Storm: Othrys
Stepping through the bone gateway, the Regent and his Chosen left behind the baroque splendor of the Imperial Palace to a far more spartan locale. Around them lay nothing but half-constructed fortifications rising up from the midst of barren rocky plains, while up in the hazy twilight sky, the colossal bulk of the gas giant Saturn filled the heavens, its rings serenely spinning in the void above. As the amazed Knights-Errant watched, Malcador raised his staff, which began to coruscate with barely-contained energies. A blanket of impossible colors began to fill the void, a sheath stretching around the entirety of Saturn and her moons. Though only the Regent grasped the magnitude of what he had accomplished, a Warp-storm of frightening potency had enclosed the ringworld, shielding it from the forces of Hell that were even now pouring into the outskirts of the Solar System.
Shielded from their storm by Macro-Gellar Fields enclosing the entirety of Titan, the Regent and his Titans trained for many centuries. This painstaking process saw each of them unlock their psychic potentials, allowing them to master the use of force weapons and other such esoteric tools that would be needed to combat the malign forces of the Warp. While the Titans received the personal wisdom of the Sigillite, thousands of others were undergoing the process of becoming Space Marines. All the experience and knowledge gathered by the Legiones Astartes was condensed and modified to create the perfect soldiers to combat the Warp, warriors whose minds and bodies were shielded from psychic assault and the temptations of the daemonic.
While this new legion grew, so too did their fortifications. The planet of Saturn had suffered greatly during the Age of Strife, its moons enslaved by cruel xenos that were exterminated during the Great Crusade. Thus by the time of the Leonine Heresy, only small outposts had been reestablished, meaning they were easily co-opted for the Regent's purposes. Such was Malcador's power and influence that the moon of Deimos, once a satellite of Mars, had been stolen from its original position to orbit Titan, a Forge World capable of producing all the armaments necessary to outfit a legion. A vast basalt fortress-monastery quickly sprung up, nestled on the flanks of Mount Anarch, whose halls were filled with countless tomes of knowledge containing all the wisdom the Imperium had gathered regarding the Warp.
As the sixth century of their exile became the seventh, the Warp-storms enclosing Saturn began to dissipate. What had once been Nine Warriors were now Grand Masters, each a powerful warrior who had mastered both the physical, mental, and the spiritual. Those who were once untested recruits had now become a Legion filled with powerful psychic warriors older than any Astartes that existed elsewhere, the mighty Grey Knights. Dozens of warships, purpose-built in the shipyards of Iapetus, stood ready to ferry them to Terra, to strike down with great vengeance against the forces of Chaos tainting the Throneworld. They had become the perfect fighting force, one rivaled perhaps only by the Emperor's guardians, the venerable Custodes, standing ready to respond to whatever their Grand Masters ordered. Even the grounds of Titan itself had been transformed, hallowed and blessed with psychic wards to repel any daemons.
However, as the chronometers and other sensors began to scan the stars around Saturn, they picked up most unusual readings. According to every report, what had been seven centuries for the Grey Knights had been but seven months for the rest of the Solar System. The hurricanes of madness choking the Warp were still present, but were far less intense than they had been before the Regent and his Knights had left Terra. The psychic brotherhoods could sense the presence of the Emperor, but it seemed weaker and more faint than before. Thus after consulting with his Grand Masters, Malcador made the decision to return to Terra on his own so as to learn what had occurred while still keeping the Grey Knights in reserve.
Thus concealed aboard a small shuttle, the Regent of Terra returned to the Throneworld, noting with resignation the colossal damage inflicted upon Terra, Mars, and the rest of the Solar System in general. In many places, daemons still lurked, mostly in the outer Gas Giants and Jupiter especially, where the Great Red Spot held the unmistakable psychic residue of Magnus the Red. Using his mind's eye, the Sigillite noted the locations of thousands of traitor legionaries, trapped aboard derelict ships that had been unable to escape the Solar System, though none on Terra itself. Even more disturbing was the absence of Basilio Fo from the laboratory hidden amidst the Antarctic Wastes. However, tracking him down would have to wait, for Malcador's greatest concern was that of the Emperor, whose voice was now silent even though the Astronomican continued to shine. Thus as his shuttle touched down on the corpse-choked ruins of the Raven's Gate landing pads, Malcador made for the Throne Room, desperate to uncover the truth of what had become of his companion and master.
"Father is alive, but only just." rumbled the avalanche voice of the Praetorian. Malcador spared a glance at Vulkan, who alone of the primarchs was unwounded as he had apparently remained within his command center as opposed to joining the fighting on the frontlines. Casting his mind out, Malcador quickly located the other primarchs: Mortarion and Horus, grievously wounded by the Golden Throne and by daemons respectively; Ferrus and Lorgar, exhausted beyond compare by battle but still overseeing the triage efforts amidst the ruins of the Palace; Konrad, pale and lifeless; and Constantin, poor, poor Valdor who stood before them, disconsolate at the state of his master.
"Have you tried to communicate with him?" asked Malcador, not taking his eyes off the scars inflicted on the Master of Mankind's body.
"He does not respond to any verbal or psychic stimuli. Ferrus and I created a device that would allow him to transmit his thoughts into synthesized speech, but when we connected it to the Throne, all that came out was constant screaming, an unending agony that even Lorgar seems unable to relieve." Malcador grimaced at Vulkan's words.
"It is up to us then, to see that his legacy survives. We will free him one day, I swear it." The Praetorian's frown lifted slightly at the Regent's words, both men staring up at the unmoving cadaver of the Emperor of Mankind, seated high above them upon his Golden Throne.
With the defeat of the Traitor Legions, the Imperium was now able to sift through the ashes of the greatest war in human history in order to undo at least some of the damage inflicted upon it during the Leonine Heresy. Though militarily safe, Terra was far from being cleansed of the taint of Chaos, and thus the other half of the Regent's plans had begun to bear fruit. During the Siege of Terra, the four mortal lords had been kept busy suppressing traitor cults, many of which had sought to infiltrate the Imperial Palace itself. It was through the tireless watch of these men and women, who had begun to be known as Inquisitors, that the Walls had stood firm against these moral threats, a duty no less vital than the Astartes who manned the walls against physical dangers. With the Regent now returned to Terra, this Inquisition could begin to expand, a process which sped up exponentially with the arrival of the Alpha Legion.
Over the following years, Malcador spent a great deal of time working alongside the loyalist primarchs to rebuild the Imperium and reaffirm its control over its million worlds. With the Emperor now entombed upon the Golden Throne, it was left to the Regent of Terra to craft the Adeptus Terra into a tool capable of governing the galaxy. The Legiones Astartes were now shells of their former glory, and the Grey Knights, while powerful, still lacked the numbers the Regent desired. Thus he began to act in secret, taking advantage of the incapacity of Horus Lupercal and Mortarion in order to siphon their gene-seed for his own purposes. While this underhanded method likely prolonged their comas much longer, the Regent knew the growth of the Grey Knights would be vital for the defense of the Imperium, as well as giving him vital time to reassert his authority on Terra. It also amused him that one such as Mortarion, who had always favored the Pale Sons of Barbarus and fostered such a corrosive distrust of psykers, would be instrumental in supporting the growth of the Psychic Brotherhood of Titan.
One by one, the traitor legions were routed from their remaining holdings in the century-long grand campaign known as the Scouring. The Grey Knights remained hidden during this time, continuing to build up their strength. Only against the most foul threats did they join the other Legiones Astartes, clandestine strike teams to destroy powerful Daemon Princes who had carved out domains of their own in the Material Realms. None were allowed to approach Saturn, which was turned over to the exclusive jurisdiction of the Sigillite and his Inquisition, a secret kept so thoroughly that even Astartes vessels were directed through the Solar System on alternative routes. Thus none were allowed to disturb the scholars of the Grey Knights and Inquisition, or their master, who spent much of his time amidst the libraries of Titan. It disturbed Malcador to no end how easily the daemonic presence had been expunged from Terra, for while countless spawn of the Immaterium had manifested across the Solar System, they had receded just as quickly after the Archtraitor's defeat, as though he and his allies had made no real effort to cement the corruption of the Throneworld.
Whatever the case, the threat of Chaos slowly slipped from the minds of the wider public as the Scouring came to a close. The terrors of the Leonine Heresy became a thing of the past, a dark age now replaced by the Age of the Imperium. The Custodes were slowly built up once more alongside the Palace, though shortly after the Scouring, Constantin Valdor resigned his position as Captain-General of the Emperor's Companions in order to track down Basilio Fo. Malcador was quick to support him in this endeavor, for detailed investigation had revealed agents of the Firewing, those dreaded intelligence legionaries of the Dark Angels, had been present at the shattered remnants of Fo's laboratory-prison. Valdor disappeared shortly thereafter, and was never seen again.
As the centuries of M31 slowly slipped away, Malcador felt the burden of his age continue to grow. Much of his energies were given over to the Emperor, fortifying his friend upon the Golden Throne through psychic nourishment, as though he were offering water to a man dying of thirst in a desert. However, the longer he did so, the weaker he became, and thus the Regent devised an alternative solution, a method partially-tested during the Heresy that would now be expanded to a scale never-before seen. The wounds inflicted upon the Master of Mankind had splintered his mind and stripped him of much of his power, and thus a substitute would be needed. Therefore, the Regent and his Inquisition devoted much of their resources towards rebuilding the Black Fleet of the Silent Sisterhood, those one-in-ten-million nulls whose ships would ply the galaxy in search of psykers to feed to power the Golden Throne.
The Emperor's desire to see mortals govern the Imperium had seemingly come into full bloom, for the Administratum and the High Lords of Terra now governed themselves, requiring less and less input from Vulkan, the sole remaining primarch, or Malcador himself, who was increasingly occupied in his studies upon Titan. The Legiones Astartes dispersed amongst the stars, patrolling their respective regions of space against the ever-present danger of xenos and rebels, and their primarchs slowly vanished, becoming half-remembered heroes of legend deified by the growing church-body that had transformed from the persecuted Imperial Cult to the powerful Ecclesiarchy in the wake of Lorgar's death. While it disgusted him to see his friend's ideals twisted so, Malcador was far too practical to allow such an opportunity go to waste, wasting no time in seeding the Ecclesiarchy with his representatives.
Defenders of the Long War: The Grey Knights Revealed
Whilst their master directed them from the shadows, the Inquisition kept the realms of Man safe from internal threat, growing in complexity to include dozens of cells dedicated to protecting the sectors from hidden dangers and keeping the peace. However, this tenuous calm was to come to an end as M32 dawned, for with it came the nightmares of the past the rest of the galaxy, save for the Inquisition, had forgotten about. Long overshadowing dozens of systems, including the Dark Angels' shattered homeworld of Caliban, the hellish Warp-rift known as the Eye of Terror blinked open, disgorging hundreds of corrupted vessels just as the Imperium was distracted and complacent in their celebration of the millennial anniversary of the Emperor's Ascension to the Golden Throne. The prescience of the Night Lords did little to slow a force of that magnitude, and it did not save them, for they were wiped out to the last man, unable to get out the call for aid.
Unfortunately for the traitor host calling itself the Black Templars, there were those still vigilant for the taint of Chaos no matter what new mantle it wore. Even before the hosts of Sigismund the Destroyer began their ravages of neighboring systems, the far-seeing eyes of the Sigillite and his Inquisition had readied themselves for the return of the traitor legions. By M32, the Regent was nearing the end of his lifespan, nearly eight thousand years old and looking every year of it, for most of his prodigious psychic ability had been drained to support the Emperor of Mankind on the Golden Throne. Nonetheless, his mind was as sharp as ever, and thus with all the wisdom of the ages, he directed his silver legion of Grey Knights to meet this new threat. As one, the Nine Grand Masters rallied their hosts, and ventured forth to oppose the Black Templars and their daemonic allies.
Many were the battles fought in these dark days, hidden away from the rest of the Imperium still struggling to respond in kind. The Sons of Titan were a legion unto themselves by this point, tens of thousands of mighty warriors fighting as one vast psychic brotherhood. Their arrival, and the potency of their weapons, was a great setback to the forces of Chaos, for not even the mightiest Chaos Warlords could match the Nine, the Chosen of Malcador. Such was the case where the First of the Nine, Supreme Grand Master Janus, matched blades with the dreaded High Executioner Fafnir Rann, in a climactic battle that saw the traitor warband shattered above the world of Yarant. Dozens of Sigismund's lieutenants met similar fates, their rampages halted by carefully-coordinated strikes that allowed the Grey Knights to leverage their psychic prowess and foresight to make up for their smaller numbers. However, the Destroyer himself remained elusive, seemingly absent save for the initial battle above Cadia.
Unfortunately for the Imperium, the Grey Knights could not be everywhere at once. Even more traitor fleets had begun to spew forth elsewhere, the abominable Ultramarines emerging from the Maelstrom and the Hadex Anomaly to corrupt and conquer. As the mighty juggernaut of the Emperor's armies strained to meet this threat, lurching ever-closer to Terra, the Sons of Titan were forced to sustain increasingly-heavy losses in order to slow the traitor advance. Many mighty warriors were lost in harrowing confrontations against unstoppable tides of daemons, fighting doomed last-stands to prevent planets from becoming Daemon Worlds. Such was the case with Grand Master Satre, who boldly faced down Doombreed, the Skull Lord, one of the Blood God's most ancient and powerful servants. The maddening rage of the Khornate Daemon Prince found no purchase in the impenetrable mental walls of the Grand Master, but Satre's physical defenses could not withstand the mountain-felling blows fueled by the most elemental fury. Satre became the first of the Nine to fall, though he would not be the last, for by the end of the First Black Crusade, two more Grand Masters would perish: Khyron died dueling Sigismund the Destroyer, while Iapto fell battling Kho'ren Kraad and his Null Knights. However, the Imperium would have to bear an altogether more devastating loss for the Imperium before this conflict would come to an end.
As the Destroyer's forces pierced ever-closer to entering Segmentum Solar, the Inquisition began to treat it for the apocalyptic threat it truly was. The last remaining loyalist primarch, the Praetorian of Terra Vulkan, emerged from seclusion, preparing his legion to meet the first traitor hosts intruding into Segmentum Solar. Slowly but surely, the Destroyer's hosts began to slow, a gradual, grinding war of attrition that favored the Imperium with its greater resource base, although at tremendous cost. As they continued their assault, slowed but still unbent, Malcador departed Titan for the first time in centuries. He devoted his full attention to overseeing the Imperium's response, directing the Administratum and all its prodigious resources toward countering the threat. Malcador knew full well that every day that passed was that much more of the Imperium's strength drained away, that to continue like this would see the realms of Man left vulnerable for the next threat arising in the outer darkness.
Thus the Regent bent his prodigious intellect to divining the future, to pierce the tides of darkness in order to discern how best to break the Traitor Legions once again. To his surprise, such knowledge came much more easily than he had expected, his visions revealing the existence of a weapon of great power: a Shard of a Primarch. In the forbidden lore contained within Titan's libraries, it was said such splinters of power were among the rarest and most esoteric creations in the galaxy, for it took immense might to carve out a piece of a soul, especially one as powerful as a primarch's. One such Shard had been used to empower Janus, First and Greatest of the Nine; a second relic might be able to bless another of the Nine with similar might, or better still, restore at least some of the power Malcador had spent upon the Emperor.
Such an opportunity could not be allowed to go to waste. There was little time to spare, for the visions had foretold the Destroyer also sought this power, dispatching a host of Thousand Sons led by the powerful sorcerer Ctesias to reclaim it. Only one of the Nine, Cerberus, was close enough to return to the Regent's side, and thus accompanied only by a single company of Grey Knights, Malcador left the Solar System for the first time in millennia. Their fleet sailed far into the dark, following the Regent's visions, for it seemed only he was capable of piercing the shadows to locate the shard. Their quest eventually took them to the Charadon Sector, to the Knightly World of Kolossi, where the Grey Knights discovered their foes had arrived before them. Already, a colossal battle between the forces of the Thousand Sons and the loyal Questor Mechanicus Knights had erupted, towering war machines matching strength against daemonic abominations in the shadow of the towering Keep Inviolate, the fortress of House Raven.
Recognizing they had no time to spare, Cerberus led his brethren against the forces of Ctesias, Sanctic Astartes battling against Arcana Astartes in the first of many conflicts. The two psychic legions strained against each other for supremacy, while the Regent descended deep below the surface of Kolossi, his seal of office granting him access to the Vault Transcendent, the hallowed halls at the heart of the Keep Inviolate. How a shard of a Primarch had come to be in this vault even Malcador couldn't say, but its retrieval would ensure Imperial victory. As Cerberus and Ctesias crossed blades on the surface, the Regent and his Knightly allies entered the heart of the Vault, passing by dozens of artifacts as they desperately searched for the object of their quest, for here at the end of the road, the Regent's visions were now clouded like never before.
"It has to be here, it just has to be!" Malcador all but shouted, his usual composure vanished. The Seneschal of House Raven, a woman long used to the rigors of war, recoiled, taken aback by the vehemence in the old man's voice. She took a deep breath, preparing to respond, but as she opened her mouth, no words came out. In fact, she couldn't breathe, or see for that matter. All the light in the room seemed to have gone out, a darkness that was choking in every sense of the word, and as the Seneschal gasped out her final, desperate breaths, the shadows began to coalesce.
Before the astounded eyes of the Regent, an umbral form began to take shape, a being of Encroaching Ruin who embodied every irrational fear of the dark. As chained wings stretched forth to fill the confined halls of the Vault, Malcador found himself struggling to control his dread. It was a losing battle, for he recognized all too well the identity of the primordial being that stood before him. As the last of the shadows combined, the Sigillite beheld the unmistakable spikes of the Crown of Shadows, mounted atop the snarling visage of the First-Damned Harbinger of Doom: Be'lakor, the Dark Master. Before Malcador could react, the daemon plunged his Blade of Shadows into the Regent's heart, a mortal wound made all the more painful by the knowledge this had been a trap.
Transfixed by the Daemon's blade, Malcador could only listen as Be'lakor gloated before him. There had never been any Shard upon Kolossi, merely a temptation designed to be the perfect bait, a deceit crafted to ensnare and assassinate the liar, the plotter, the master of assassins that was Malcador. All that had transpired had been eons in the making, every step according to the Master of Shadows's design, a grand victory that achieved the death of dozens of Grey Knights, the corruption and enslavement of Ctesias and dozens of the Knights of House Raven, who had sworn themselves to Chaos in exchange for survival. And most of all, Be'lakor continued, the removal of Malcador himself, without whose vision and steadying hand would see the Imperium slide further into darkness, leaving him to operate more freely than ever before in the shadows. The Regent attempted to strike back with what remained of his still-prodigious psychic acumen, but to his despair, the powers did not come, negated by one of the many wards inscribed upon the walls of the Vault Transcendent.
With a squelch of blood, the Daemon Prince withdrew his Blade, allowing Malcador to slide to the floor. As unconsciousness threatened to overtake him, darker than even Be'lakor's shadows, the Regent saw brief blazes of light, the armored form of Cerberus and his brothers driving back the creatures of the Warp. Now on the verge of death, the Regent's body was borne back to his ship by the Grey Knights, who rushed him back to Titan in hopes of undoing the damage. By chance or fate, Malcador clung to life, but only by the slimmest of margins, no longer able to guide the Grey Knights or the Imperium as he once had. With great solemnity, the six remaining Grand Masters entombed Malcador upon an Argent Throne nestled deep at the heart of their fortress, his withered hands still clutching the Scepter Imperial denoting his rank as Regent. Now psychically connected to their fortress-monastery in the hopes that his spirit would guide them in the years to come, the Emperor's greatest companion was thus laid to rest.
In the years to come, the Grey Knights would continue to uphold their founders' legacy, repelling the daemonic at every turn. Sigismund's Black Crusade came to an end, but it would not be the last, and thus began the Long War, an endless struggle between the Imperium and the forces of darkness. As the millennia pass, their foes continue to grow in strength while their numbers weaken, but the Grey Knights remain undaunted, slowly transforming to meet every threat. With the Thirteenth Black Crusade on the verge of arriving, the sons of Titan stand to meet the Destroyer's latest assault, ready to halt the Thirteenth Black Crusade just as they halted the First and all the others. They are the hammer, they are the hate, they are the woes of daemonkind; the Enemy hates the Grey Knights like no other, for they are the Imperium's greatest hope, its soldiers for the battle at the end of time. They are the Exitus, the Sons of Titan armored in truesilver and righteousness, and they will uphold the Emperor's honor no matter the odds.
Homeworld, Recruitment, and Gene-seed
The largest moon in the shadow of the gas giant Saturn, the hazy orb of Titan is one of the most classified realms in the Emperor's domain. Long the domain of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition, the ringworld is home to the greatest fortresses of the Ordos, shipyards and dungeons and headquarters spread across over a hundred moons kept a closely-guarded secret. However, even the Inquisitors who call Saturn home are barred from knowing the layout and geography of Titan,which has been systematically purged from every database, hidden from all but the most august and puissant Inquisitors of the Ordo Malleus. Amidst dozens of lesser orbital platforms, the voidspace of Titan is dominated by the mighty Broadsword Station, the lynchpin and center of the first line of defense. The Inquisition has spared no expense in procuring the most talented and efficient crew to man the guns of this mighty void-fortress, which is home to an entire Navigator House sworn to their service by millennia-old accords. Broadsword Station is equipped to supply an entire fleet at once, and is capable of rapidly reorienting to face any direction, even Titan itself should the worst happen.
Orbiting on the opposite side of Titan, the Forge World of Deimos supplies the Grey Knights with the weapons of war they need to prosecute campaigns across the galaxy. How this moon, once a satellite of Holy Mars, came to orbit Saturn, is a secret known only to the Inquisition, but it has proved vital, churning out materiel far in excess of its compact size. The Steel Forge has been mass-mined and quarried for millennia, hollowed out and fortified until it has become more of a star fort than a moon. Within its hallowed halls, the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus work day and night to produce everything an Astartes Legion might need, from aircraft to tanks to the anointed bolters inscribed with holy litanies. Only the Nemesis Force Weapons, the psychically-powered melee weapons unique to the Grey Knights, are not crafted here, for these are hand-forged by the Grey Knights themselves.
Beneath Broadsword Station and Deimos, underneath a thick orangish atmosphere, a vast network of defenses lies concealed, home to the mighty Grey Knights. Every square meter of Titan has been sanctified and hallowed, and its fortifications constructed in ritualistically-significant shapes that ward off the daemonic. Though it has never come under assault, its rocky plains are filled with countless traps, including a vast network of concealed vents, designed to open up to suck away any attempted viral assault, a failsafe designed by the Inquisition, who has long utilized such weapons themselves. Other passages reveal countless weapons turrets, orbital lasers of rare power capable of gutting enemy vessels in a single shot, while beneath them, countless tunnels crisscross to connect and power the various weapons platforms.
Rising amidst the slopes of Mt. Anarch, the mighty fortress-monastery of the Grey Knights dominates the landscapes of Titan. To describe its majesty is nearly-impossible, for only the Sons of Titan themselves are permitted access to its corridors; even the Inquisition meets with them either remotely or in one of the lesser watch-stations studded about Titan. Its very structure is ritualistically-significant, designed to help the Knights hone their psychic gifts, and at its peak, a silvered pinnacle known as the Augurium conducts information and visions from amidst the roiling tides of the Warp. The mirrored halls of the Augurium are home to the specialized legionary oracles known as the Prognosticars, who have honed their gifts, rare even amongst their brethren, to pick out fluctuations in the Warp, tracking the movements of powerful daemons and fleets. The legion relies upon the men of the Augurium to pick out calls for help, for their psychic foresight allows them to foresee dangers often years before it occurs, enabling legion command to respond in time to avert disaster.
Beneath the spire of the Augurium, the vast chamber known as the Hall of Champions houses the bulk of the legion, containing all the dormitories, training halls, forges, and relics the legion has accumulated over the millennia. Countless stone statues line its walls, heroes of renown who watch over the vast array of icons and litanies carved into the marble walls and floors. Dozens of chapels worthy of any Shrine World connect to this central chamber, while colonnades lead down to the hallowed crypts known as the Dead Fields, where the honored departed are interred after a lifetime of service. Perhaps the greatest of these cathedrals is the Mandulian Chapel, whose starry ceiling is held up by a towering colossus carved in the image of Grand Master Mandulis himself, a metaphor carved in stone that symbolized how he and the Grey Knights keep the Imperium from collapsing.
Descending into the depths of Mount Anarch, one discovers the Sanctum Sanctorum, home to the legion's secret knowledge inscribed upon ancient tomes. The Sanctum houses one of the largest libraries in the entire Imperium, whose shelves contain countless secrets gathered by the legion over ten thousand years, including the knowledge of how to construct Nemesis Force Weapons and even works said to have been penned by the Emperor of Mankind himself. Various chambers branch off from the main hall, containing dozens of esoteric cubes known as tesseract labyrinths, used to seal away powerful daemons, along with other ancient relics sealed away behind warded melta-proof doors. The heart of the Sanctum houses the Librarium Daemonica, whose forbidden volumes record the True Names of every daemon ever encountered by the Grey Knights, along with information related to summoning and banishing rituals, all protected by the most powerful librarians of the legion.
Beneath the Sanctum Sanctorum, the holy Chamber of Purity serves as the quarters of the legionaries known as the Purifiers. Said to be the noblest of the Grey Knights, the very presence of a Purifier burns the corrupted hides of daemons, and it is here that the most dangerous trophies, such as the undying heads of daemons, are kept, held in stasis caskets ceaselessly guarded by the vigilant Purifiers. Among these profane artifacts is also kept a number of holy tomes written by Malcador the Sigillite himself, accessible only to the Grand Masters, who consult them in times of great danger. Perhaps the most important of these antiques housed in the Chamber of Purity is a simple wooden box, inside of which is contained an ancient parchment known as the Terminus Decree. What is written on this parchment is unknown, but is said to contain a secret so terrible that it will either save or destroy the Imperium. It is for this reason that only the Supreme Grand Master knows how to open this box, which is marked with a golden seal whose shape is said to match an emblem found only upon the Golden Throne on Terra.
Even further down, at the heart of the Grey Knights fortress-monastery, there lies a star-shaped chamber known as the Warp Nexus, the oldest part of the entire citadel. Inscribed with countless mandalas, the very air of the Nexus thrums with power, for it is the spiritual heart of Titan. The Warp Nexus is home to the Mausoleum of the Nine, housing the remains of the first Grand Masters, along with one of the legion's greatest secrets, for in truth, not all of the Grand Masters are truly dead. Of the Nine Who Were Chosen, seven of them have since passed on to be at the Emperor's side, their bodies interred in the Warp Nexus. The remaining two paragons, Supreme Grand Master Ianius and Grand Master Cerberus, still live, encased within stasis fields that are deactivated in times of the legion's most dire need. Only two times in ten millennia has this occurred, and never both at the same time: in M34, Ianius was loosed to battle the xenos horror known as the Cacodominus, while Cerberus was the sole survivor in a battle against the Daemon Primarch Sanguinius in M41 during the First War for Armageddon. However, as the Thirteenth Black Crusade looms, the Grand Masters have begun to consider once more freeing one of these mighty champions.
However, even more important than the barrows of the Nine is the energy tube that forms the center of the Warp Nexus, an esoteric relic housing the still-living remains of Malcador the Sigillite. Like the remains of the Nine, the Regent of Terra is kept in stasis. His body sits upon the Argent Throne, a focusing device of unknown origin that aids the legion in foretelling the future, a smaller parallel to the Golden Throne on Terra. Only his sleeping head is visible, peering out through a tower of light, and from here, the Sigillite guides his sons, his stasis field somehow deactivating on its own that he might speak to the Grand Masters when they seek his guidance. At other times, the ancient Regent issues demands for particular tasks, often nonsensical at first only to be later revealed as crucial steps toward averting disaster many centuries into the future.
Knowledge of the Warp Nexus is among the most closely-kept secrets in the galaxy, for most of the Grey Knights do not even know it exists, much less what it contains, and most legionaries go their entire lives unaware of what lies deep below their feet. Far above the Nexus, inside the Hall of Champions is housed the Chamber of Trials, where new aspirants are tested and inducted into the legion. The testing these youth undergo is perhaps the most rigorous in the entire Imperium, for the burden they bear demands no less. Aspirants are collected from a variety of sources, from any one of the million worlds in the Imperium, to the dreaded Black Ships of the Silent Sisterhood, long practiced in collecting powerful psykers. This process is aided by the Inquisition, for the Ordo Malleus has a vested interest in maintaining the strength of the Daemonhunters.
Once a suitable recruit has been found, he is taken to the Chamber of Trials upon Titan itself. There the recruits are released onto the desolate, freezing plains of the rocky moon, forced to trek through the barren wilderness to reach the fortress itself. Titan is home to many dangers, from toxic chem-wastes to roaming packs of servitors driven mad by the horrors they operate around. Perhaps most treacherous of all are the aspirants themselves, who must learn to master their psychic gifts amidst a landscape that amplifies them far beyond what most of them are used to. Those who cannot contain their power either kill themselves in accidental outbursts of their own power, or have their heads remotely detonated by the explosive collars around their necks designed to prevent any daemons from gaining a potential foothold in their unguarded souls.
Aspirants that do reach the fortress-monastery are then subjected to rigorous training and dozens of surgeries to transform them into true Astartes. It is a laborious process, costing far beyond that of other Astartes, for only one in a million will ever become a full brother of the legion. Each recruit must survive the six hundred and sixty-six Rituals of Detestation, a laborious process that wards their souls against the wiles of the Great Enemy; though difficult in the extreme, such is its effectiveness that not a single Grey Knight has ever fallen to Chaos. All Grey Knights are psykers, and thus a great deal of their training focuses on harnessing their gifts; they must all undergo extensive mind-wipes, destroying every trace of their pasts including their very birth names, for to retain those would only endanger the legionaries to the daemons of the Warp. Only when they become a full legionary do they receive new names, until then only bearing a numerical designation; it is a rare honor to be granted the name of one of Saturn's moons, and those brothers often go on to become great heroes.
Exorcists
In view of the daunting, if not outright impossible, odds facing them, Malcador knew from the beginning he would need to rapidly increase the numbers of the Grey Knights. The rituals that empowered the Nine were far too time-consuming to be replicated in any large amounts; thus stopgap measures would need to be introduced. Originally taken from the various companies of Blackshields, those legionaries who, for one reason or another, had become cut off from their parent legions, the Agents of the Sigillite collected hundreds of Astartes from all eighteen legions, loyalist and traitor alike. Perhaps the greatest amount came from the World Eaters, whose loyalist members lacked a future but still sought to fight for the Imperium.
Thus even as the true Grey Knights were being trained on Titans, the Regent's Agents prepared to bring these forces to their master as soon as possible. Once the Leonine Heresy had come to an end, these forgotten sons were taken to Titan, where they received mind-wipes and an abridged version of the training the actual Grey Knights received. There they were combined into companies alongside those Astartes who had been given the gene-seed Malcador had acquired from Horus, Mortarion, and other sources. However, as the centuries passed and these brave warriors gave their lives in service to the Imperium, the ever-pragmatic Inquisition devised a way to continue their legacy and not let their gene-seed go to waste.
Thus the Exorcist Project was founded by a radical branch of the Ordo Malleus known as the Plutonians. Through trial and error, these borderline heretics learned that those who had been possessed by daemons, and then exorcized, became utterly immune to future daemonic possession. Through this risky process, the Plutonians enabled the Grey Knights to increase their legion size far beyond what it might otherwise have been, as well as make use of resources that otherwise would have been discarded. The fact they have not received the Emperor's Gift as part of their gene-seed makes them substantially cheaper to produce, another point in their favor. The ranks of the Exorcists are thus filled not only by those who hail from other gene-lines, but also those legionaries who did not quite measure up to Grey Knight standards, often in psychic skill.
The gene-seed of the Grey Knights is far different than that of the other nine Legiones Astartes. In the days of the Leonine Heresy, there were only the Nine, who of course bore the gene-seed of their original legions. However, during their centuries of training upon Titan, this was supplemented by additional genetic data from the Master of Mankind himself, the so-called 'Emperor's Gift'. This template is refined and pure far beyond any others, a unique process that has ensured the genetic flaws that plague the Legiones Astartes are entirely absent in the Grey Knights, along with boosting their psychic prowess by granting them an instinctual control of their gifts and a sense of unity with their brothers. The Emperor's Gift was then given to the thousands of other legionaries inducted during the Time of Refuge, transforming diverse gene-templates into a unified whole. Thus these Astartes left their past identities behind, legions and primarchs included, in order to become Sons of Titan, the Grey Knights. The Exorcists also receive a refined chimeric gene-seed, one that is highly purified though still lacking the rare and esoteric quintessence stemming from the Emperor's Gift.
Combat Doctrines and Organization
As the greatest weapon the Imperium possesses in the war against Chaos, the operations of the Grey Knights are incredibly scrutinized. The lessons of the Leonine Heresy greatly influenced the Sigillite and his associations, who had learned firsthand the dangers presented by the Legiones Astartes. Thus rather than a legion unchecked by conventional authority existing beyond the grasp of law and polity, the Grey Knights had, from the beginning, a clearly-defined niche for them. The operations of the Grey Knights are, at least on paper, subject to the will of the Inquisition, specifically the Ordo Malleus, who oversee operations to root out and exterminate the taint of Chaos. In practice, the Daemonhunters of Titan often deploy on their own, for their aid is generally only called upon in the worst case scenarios which they often foresee well before any Inquisitors do. However, the Ordo Malleus Inquisitors have the de jure right to call upon the Grey Knights for aid in their missions, which take place across the galaxy, for the Sons of Titan must journey wherever the Neverborn seek to despoil.
This obligation, while often exercised as a form of soft power rather than outright demands, is but one of the many changes introduced by the Sigillite and his Inquisition to differentiate the Grey Knights from the other Legiones Astartes. In place of the Principia Belicosa, that venerable codex penned by the Emperor to govern his Legiones Astartes, the Grey Knights have their own particular set of laws and strictures that determines their legion structure. Organized by the decrees of the Sigillite, the Grey Knights have a number of formations unique to them, while lacking many of those found in other legions. For example, armored companies and siege battalions are all but absent, for daemons rarely remain in one place for long and certainly don't build structures.
Grey Knights are almost entirely focused on infantry squads, with preeminent attention given to the role of the brotherhood of psykers that unites them all. The Daemonhunters number perhaps fifty thousand Astartes in total, but this sum is deceiving, for not only does it include aspirants, who do not join battles as do the scout companies in other legions, but also does not reveal the division of the legion between proper Grey Knights and the warriors known as Exorcists. Generally less-psychically powerful than the Grey Knights, the Exorcists are the heart of any Grey Knights force: while they often lack the offensive punch that their brethren possess, they are tenacious fighters, excelling at being the anvil to their brothers' hammer. Thus they are most often deployed to hold the flanks, for being immune to possession and resistant to corruption means they can fortify positions that would be too morally-hazardous to other Astartes. They have also found a niche operating the Stormraven Gunships that transport their brethren and provide aerial fire support, as well as crewing the Rhinos and Land Raiders that fill the same function on the ground.
The true Grey Knights, also known as Sanctic Astartes, number around ten thousand in total, led by a council under the overall command of the Supreme Grand Master. There are nine Grand Masters, a tradition stemming from the Nine Who Were Chosen, who each oversee a chapter known as a Brotherhood that is composed of ten companies each led by a captain. These relatively small numbers are supplemented by their Exorcist auxiliaries, numbering perhaps forty thousand in total, and are led by chapter masters and captains, though they do not have the honor of being named Grand Masters. However, the Council but rarely meets, for daemonic incursions constantly threaten the Imperium, and the current Supreme Grand Master has been absent for nearly a century.
Kaldor Draigo
Commander of all of Titan's Sons, Supreme Grand Master Kaldor Draigo is perhaps the greatest and most honored Grey Knight since the Nine themselves. Wielder of the legendary Titansword, Draigo assumed his position over two centuries ago, defeating countless daemons along the way. It is for this reason that the forces of Chaos hate and fear him like no other, and through the wiles of the Daemon Prince M'kar the Reborn, he was hurled into the Warp itself. Though corruption has found no purchase in the Emperor's Herald, Draigo's Sisyphean heroism leaves no trace behind as he roams the Realms of Chaos in search of freedom. Yet for brief interludes he is able to escape his prison, arriving to aid his brothers in their time of need before departing once more.
The coldly-logical Grey Knights are well-trained in the calculus of war, and do not hesitate to expend the lives of the Exorcists in order to save themselves, for they know even the least Sanctic Astartes is worth is any ten Exorcists. One of the reasons they are so valuable compared to other Astartes is the fact every Grey Knight is a psyker. Rather than the independent and solitary nature of Librarians in the other Legiones Astartes, who are kept apart from their battle-brothers for safety and logistical reasons, every squad of Grey Knights is versed in the lore of the Warp in such a way as to form a gestalt, the so-called Brotherhood of Psykers that allows them to work in perfect unity both in physical and mental combat. They are masters of the Sanctic Daemonology Discipline of Psykana, using the Warp to banish and destroy daemons by unraveling their hold on reality at its source.
Likewise, their combined minds are capable of shaping the tides of the warp to protect themselves, both in a spiritual sense and in a literal sense, for they are capable of mighty mental feats such as shrouding themselves in shadows, teleporting entire squads or mighty war machines across the battlefield, or empowering their fists with incredible force. The most powerful among their ranks are even capable of unleashing a psychic holocaust fashioned from their very hatred that incinerates mortal souls and banishes daemons like a lesser version of the burst of psychic power used by the Master of Mankind to destroy his wayward son at the end of the Leonine Heresy.
Perhaps the most powerful weapon of the Grey Knights, aside from their faith, is their mighty fleet. From stem to stern, every armored plating, every bulkhead, every macrocannon and lance turret of a Grey Knights vessel has been blessed, inscribed with hexagrammic wards in the same way the Sons of Titan themselves have sanctic tattoos inscribed upon their skin and armor. Deimos and Mars itself have contributed to ensuring their fleet is among the most advanced in the galaxy, with Gellar Shields of unsurpassed strength, to modified engines that ferry them to battlefields with deceptive speed. Like the Grey Knights themselves, the men and women who crew these vessels routinely undergo mind-wipes to prevent corruption, and thus the Warp-madness commonly seen in other vessels as they transit the Immaterium has never been observed on the ships of their fleet.
As mentioned before, the Grey Knights bear a number of marked differences between them and the other Legiones Astartes. This can be seen even in the humble bolter, for rather than regular ammunition, the Grey Knights utilize psybolt ammunition, infusing into every shot their righteous repugnance that is especially effective against the denizens of the Warp and Chaos Space Marines. Nearly every Son of Titan wields a wrist-mounted storm bolter, allowing them to lay down a hail of firepower far in excess of their limited numbers. Most Grey Knights are part of Strike Squads led by Justicars rather than sergeants, armed with these storm bolters as well as Nemesis Force Weapons, which, by channeling the user's psychic might into the very swords and halberds themselves, allows every squad to be extremely deadly both at range and in melee.
The Sons of Titan have multiple ways of dealing with foes at range. In place of devastator squads, the role of heavy fire support is filled by purgation squads, who bear relic weapons designed to unravel a daemon's grasp on reality, thus making them ten thousand times as valuable in this limited context. Rather than heavy bolters, they utilize psycannons; in place of heavy flamers, incinerators burning with blessed fire purge molten daemons out of existence. To root out foes cowering or entrenched behind walls and barricades, the Grey Knights are extensively versed in the use of teleportation to gain the advantage. Whether it be squadrons of terminators teleporting down from orbit, or Interceptor squads utilizing their personal teleporters to shunt across the battlefield, few foes can remain beyond their reach for long.
However, while such squads are well-suited for handling lesser daemons, the denizens of the Warp are more than capable of assuming the form of colossal monstrosities, whose thick hides are immune to small arms fire. In such cases, the Grey Knights turn to their war machines, from spearheads of armored ceramite-plated land raiders, to talons of Aegis Dreadnought whose fists are limned with a silvery aura of righteousness. However, perhaps their most unique weapon for dealing with greater daemons are the towering combat walkers known as Nemesis Dreadknights. These exoskeletons appear similar to dreadnoughts, but are much taller, and come with the added advantage that their users do not need to be entombed to operate them. These knightly lords often wade into the thick of combat, spitting out a withering barrage from their psilencers before laying into the foe with twin swords or smashing them down with a greathammer the size of an Astartes, or even with just their mighty fists. Even captains have been known to utilize these awesome engines, as is the case with Grand Master Mordrak, commander of the Second Brotherhood.
Vorth Mordrak
The legend of Grand Master Mordrak began on the Fortress World of Mortain, where he and his demi-company were deployed to halt the schemes of a warband of Red Corsairs, who sought to sacrifice a young psyker to open a Warp rift. Their initial assault went well, quickly exterminating the Heretic Astartes. However, things quickly changed when they were caught in an unintended ambush, for a vast armada led by Huron Blackheart arrived without warning. Still thinking his rivals were in control of Mortain, Blackheart's fleet unleashed a devastating salvo of fusion bombs, killing all but Mordrak and the woman they had come to save.
Gripped by survivor's guilt, Mordrak swore an oath to avenge his brothers, pursuing Blackheart. However, the Tyrant of Badab was proved elusive, luring Mordrak into a trap. Surrounded by countless daemons, Mordrak prepared for the end, but as the enemy closed in, ghostly manifestations began to appear. As the Grand Master watched in amazement, he realized these spirits were none other than his fallen brethren, come to protect their commander even beyond the grave until the battle was won, at which point they vanished once more. Since then, these ghostly bodyguards have appeared on every battlefield Mordrak has taken part in, fighting beside the Grand Master in his Dreadknight, continuing their duty even beyond death as they seek to bring Blackheart to justice.
One formation unique to the Grey Knights is the fighting body known as the Paladins. Out of ten thousand Sons of Titan, there are rarely more than five hundred Paladins, and when their numbers increase, it is said a great calamity is about to ensue. They are a brotherhood unto themselves, each with a specific purpose that they dedicate themselves to after proving their worth. For the Paladins, mastery of war is their life's work, serving as champions and bodyguards for the Grand Masters, Brother-Captains, and the all-important apothecaries, who have been trained to prioritize the gene-seed bearing the Emperor's Gift above that of their Exorcist auxiliaries. Only those warriors who complete eight trials are permitted to join their ranks: after proving their dedication by matching their will against the haunted tome Abbiallach chained with the Sanctum Sanctorum, they must then survive the Warp-spawned horrors of Tethys. Once confirmed in their quest, they must then hunt down and banish a Daemon Herald, one from each of the Four Ruinous Powers, before doing the same with one of the six hundred and sixty-sixth most powerful daemons, whose names are recorded in the Iron Grimoire. Then and only then are they permitted to join the honored ranks of the Paladins, where they are assigned into squadrons led by Paragons.
However, even rarer than the Paladins is the group known as the Purifiers. No more than a hundred have ever existed at any one time, and with good reason, for as their name suggests, only the most pure of heart and clear of purpose can hope to do what they do. Most of their time is spent in the shadowy vaults of the Chambers of Purity upon Titan, guarding ancient relics and corrupted artifacts which whisper foul blasphemies in hopes of tempting their wardens. They are single-minded and fanatical in this duty, not hesitating to beat down any who would attempt to break into their vaults, even other legionaries, and it is said their eyes burn with black fire. These squadrons are each led by a warrior known as a Knight of the Flame, who are often entrusted with bearing esoteric weapons into battle, turning the enemy's weapons against them in cases where destruction is not an option. Perhaps the best example of this phenomenon is the most famous Purifier among the Grey Knights, the warrior known as Castellan-Champion Garran Crowe, who carries the heavy burden of wielding the ancient daemon sword known as the Black Blade of Antwyr lest it find its way back into the hands of a Chaos Champion once more.
Angyls
As evidenced by the powers wielded by the Emperor of Mankind and Malcador the Sigillite, the Warp is not inherently corrupting to those who wield it. Ten thousand years of history have taught the Sons of Titan much of the Immaterium and how to use it, especially against itself. Thus among the Purifiers, those who have fully renounced Chaos, there are individuals capable of manifesting unique powers to summon familiars known as Angyls, spirits of Order that repel daemons by their very nature. In contrast to the multifarious and maddening abominations that are the servants of Chaos, the Angyls are of uniform appearance, blank-masked spirits of silver and gold that blaze with argent light radiating from folded wings of bladed pinions.
Very little is known about these creatures, who are invisible to all save psykers. Some scholars believe they are visual manifestations of the souls of the Grey Knights themselves, their hatred for Chaos creating a powerful tutelary from their life energy. Where they pass, the Warp is stilled, forced into conformity in stark contrast to the roiling tumult that follows daemons. Only the Purifiers are capable of summoning these beings, but as the millennia pass, it becomes easier and easier, though why this is the case remains unknown.
As a result of their secretive nature, the Grey Knights do not often fight alongside allies. Their very existence has been carefully concealed, because to reveal to the populace of the Imperium the existence of Daemonhunters would necessitate admitting the existence of the Daemons of Chaos. The location of their base on Titan is beyond forbidden, so as to forestall any potential attacks on their base from heretics that might draw attention to them. Even the High Lords of Terra hesitate to deploy the Grey Knights, for the Imperium faces so many threats that to misallocate even a single Son of Titan could spell the death of an entire world. Thus they often leave them to their own devices or to the oversight of the Inquisition, since as the militant arm of the Ordo Malleus, the Grey Knights most often work alongside that branch.
On other occasions, the Grey Knights have worked alongside the Ordo Hereticus, who hunt the traitors and rebels attempting to summon the daemons they fight. On rare occasions have they battled beside Inquisitors of the Ordo Xenos, for worship of the Ruinous Powers is not unique to humanity. A few xenos races have been exterminated in their entirety by the Sons of Titan, whose foresight determined it was prudent to annihilate them before they could become too great a threat. The militant arm of the Ordo Xenos, the Deathwatch, as well as the Nine Loyal Legions are all aware of the Grey Knights, though generally only their commanders rather than the entire legion. Of the Nine, the Grey Knights are closest to the Space Wolves, often fighting alongside them in their ceaseless vigil around the Eye of Terror, and the Death Guard, who like the Sons of Titan serve as the final sanction against traitors and heretics.
Aside from attempting to avert future threats, the Sons of Titan are almost never deployed against xenos. However, those threats that do arise are met with a serious response from the Grey Knights, who deploy entire companies alongside allies such as the Death Guard in order to exterminate every last trace of their existence. The assaults of Chaos are often unexpected, and thus there have been more than a few occasions where the Grey Knights are forced to fight alongside mortals such as the Adepta Sororitas, Adeptus Mechanius, or the Imperial Guard. However, these are the exception, rather than the rule, and in order to preserve the secret of their existence, those forces involved are given the option between mass mind-wipes or total extermination. Even other Astartes must undergo these procedures, and the Grey Knights have more than once had to enforce their laws by force, a regrettable but necessary expenditure of the Emperor's resources.
As the name 'Daemonhunters' suggests, the greatest enemy of the Grey Knights are the forces of Chaos, including both Heretic Astartes and the Daemons they worship and serve. The Sons of Titan despise all such abominations equally, for they know full well were they to grade one of these evils as the worst, then they might be tempted to kinship with the least. Thus where certain Radical Inquisitors might relativise by working alongside one foe in order to forestall the schemes of another, the Grey Knights refuse to contemplate their foes as anything other than what they are: the enemies of Mankind, that must be destroyed at any cost. Likewise, those Radical Inquisitors who stray too far in their use of the tools of the enemy have found themselves on the receiving end of the Grey Knight's blades for their madness. However, that does not mean their foes see things the same way, and it is for that reason that the Thousand Sons, Black Templars, and the War Hounds Traitor Legions hate the Grey Knights more than the rest of their kin, for the Grey Knights have stymied countless schemes and plots over the millennia.
Beliefs and Warcry
Ten millennia of nonstop warfare against the forces of Chaos have taught the Grey Knights much. The libraries of Titan are positively bursting with the names, habits, and schemes of daemons and their puppets, a collection so large it would either amaze even the most cynical man at how many dangers have been averted, or drive a man to despair at the infinite malice of the creatures of the Warp. The Sigillite's successors, including both the Grey Knights and their Inquisitor allies, are constantly debating on the best way to undo the foul designs of Chaos, during the course of which they have uncovered many dark secrets and discerned even more dangers.
During the relatively-peaceful centuries of M31, that time between the end of the Scouring and the First Black Crusade, Malcador the Sigillite ruled the Imperium nearly unopposed. Though on paper groups such as the High Lords of Terra oversaw the various polities of the Imperium, they knew full well they were answerable to the Regent of Terra, who would not hesitate to remove them for incompetency or corruption in one way or another. It was he who introduced the system of checks and balances to the highest echelons of command by not specifying the particular duties and powers each High Lord possessed, This power structure of the Regent's own design has carried on even in his absence, continuing to devolve over the years so that mass rebellions such as the Leonine Heresy can never occur again. It is a system of Social Darwinism that continues to this day, playing rulers off of each other to create the most ruthless and effective leaders possible. While some may foolishly believe that the Imperium would be more efficient if the High Lords worked together, the learned men and women of the Inquisition can point to the negligible rate of Chaos-corruption among the High Lords of Terra.
With this self-correcting system in place, Malcador and the Inquisition were able to turn their attention to rectifying the Imperium's greatest problem: its reliance on the Warp. In the Age of Strife, the sudden explosion in the psyker population across the galaxy resulted in many worlds being dragged into the Warp, victims of their people's unguarded minds. While this also resulted in the creation of the Navigators and astropaths, who aid in guiding ships across the Warp and transmitting messages from world to world, it also made Mankind dependent on them, and upon the same source of corruption that had destroyed so many in the past. Thus after naming Horus Lupercal as Warmaster of the Great Crusade, the Emperor of Mankind in his wisdom turned his attention toward rectifying this dangerous dependency in the secret operation known as the Human Webway Project.
Alas for Mankind, the treachery of Magnus the Red and the other primarchs during the Leonine Heresy sundered that dream, confining the Master of Mankind to the Golden Throne which otherwise might have been the instrument of the Imperium's survival. Thus one of Malcador's goals was to undo this calamity, either by freeing the Emperor from his Throne to walk among his people once more, or to at least relieve his burden. To that end, the Regent of Terra commissioned not only the Argent Throne upon Titan, which serves as the Heart of the Warp Nexus there, but dozens of other projects in various attempts to replace the Golden Throne. Most of these projects did not amount to much before being abandoned or destroyed, but the Inquisition has not forgotten their Founder's goals of freeing the Emperor from the Golden Throne.
Other secrets collected by the Grey Knights include a great deal of information regarding the Ruinous Powers. This information ranges from the practical, such as estimations of Traitor Legion strength, to possible targets/sites of future incursions, to more esoteric theories that are merely conjectural, debated in the halls of Titan by the most learned. For example, the nature of the Warp is perhaps the most deeply-studied subject across the entire legion. As a realm of symbols and emotions, it is hard to determine any truths as being anything other than subjective, but some speculations hold true more often than not. It is undeniable that the worship of the Master of Mankind as the God-Emperor has had drastic effects on the Immaterium, a change that has affected even the Grey Knights themselves.
In the decades after the Leonine Heresy, the Imperial Cult was a small, persecuted organization whose members were often exterminated by the Inquisition. However, after Lorgar Aurelian issued his Edict of Toleration, the Cult was free to expand, soon spanning the entire galaxy as the Ecclesiarchy. Men and women known as Living Saints began to emerge, figures somehow manifesting what appeared to be the power of the Emperor himself in order to smite Chaos. Naturally interested in the source of this power, the Grey Knights and their Inquisitor allies captured more than a few of these so-called Saints, dissecting them in order to discover the source of their power, though they never succeeded in replicating it. The emergence of the Adepta Sororitas after the Age of Apostasy was the final straw in convincing most of the Inquisition that these Living Saints were genuine, leading to the creation of the Ordo Hereticus to determine the legitimacy of such miracles.
This development of the Ecclesiarchy also resulted in the widespread worship of the God-Emperor by the Grey Knights. Particularly prevalent amongst the Exorcist auxiliaries, these beliefs are also most common in the legionaries who join the ranks of the Purifiers, for they believe their faith is what proofs their souls against the wiles of the Enemy. The Purifiers believe the Emperor is somehow connected to their familiars, the Angyls, and there have been many debates as to how or what the relationship of the God-Emperor is to the Ruinous Powers. However, these Radical Inquisitors often step too far beyond the realms of orthodoxy, and wind up being declared heretics by the very Grey Knights under their command, leading to a swift and summary execution when the full depth of their treachery is revealed. A rare few Radicals have managed to escape such a fate, declaring themselves beholden to none and allying themselves with apostates such as Arguleon Veq, a Chaos Warlord hailing from the Sons of Fuzon warband.
One subject that greatly intrigues the Inquisition regarding the divinity of the Emperor is his mental state. While he was active before and during the Great Crusade, the Master of Mankind steadfastly denied his divinity, going so far as to chastise Lorgar and his legion for erecting religious monuments in his name rather than properly prosecute their wars. However, following his entombment upon the Golden Throne, the strong psychic presence and force of will, something even his foes were forced to admit and contend with, seems to have all but vanished, as those large portions of himself and his power were somehow cut away. His duel with his treacherous Firstborn, while inflicting deadly wounds, should not have affected his mind, and yet the Inquisition has recorded multiple occasions where those psykers granted the privilege of entering the Throne Room and speaking to him have noted almost a split personality, as though dozens of opposing wills were clamoring for attention as he spoke to his visitors. Such a cacophony of wills seems eerily reminiscent of the tortured confessions of heretics who have claimed to hear the voices of their foul deities.
The increasing activity of Chaos and the Warp over the millennia is another subject of concern for the Grey Knights. Those well-versed in the symbology connected to each of the Ruinous Powers are familiar with the numerology that seems to empower them: from Nine in the case of the Infernal Tempest, to Six in the case of the Rapturous Sensation. Those who hold to this philosophy are greatly worried by the fact the Numbers seem to be counting down, each new Chaos God a further strengthening of the Warp and greater strain on reality. Others take a different approach, believing the Ruinous Powers to be part of a greater whole, so-called Chaos Undivided. They believe that what appears to be separate and opposed powers are in reality merely fingers poking up from the surface of an ocean that wiggle at each other for their own amusement, each new finger merely an addition to keep things interesting. What then might happen when the hand they are connected to emerges entirely, revealed as a single entity too abominable to comprehend?
Such an outcome would surely spell the end of not just the Imperium, but the Materium itself, and it is for this reason that this Thing Must Not Be. Thus the Grey Knights are constantly watching for entities seeking to claim the mantle of Chaos God for themselves, lest this theory regarding steps down a path to dissolution turn out to be correct. The emergence of Slaanesh is perhaps the greatest source of information regarding this process: a gradual accumulation of power, followed by a sudden eruption as they join the so-called Great Game, struggling against the other Ruinous Powers for dominance. More Radical Inquisitors have posited that the Great Crusade was no different than the eruption of She-Who-Thirsts, a rapid accumulation of strength and territory followed by equilibrium after the other powers learned to cope with this new power. From this angle, the addition of a new planet to the Imperium, where its resources are harnessed and transformed to be something useful to the Emperor, seems little different to what the Chaos Gods do when their daemonic legions create a Daemon World.
Amongst the libraries of Titan are recorded the names of many Warp-beings with delusions of grandeur who have been deemed likely to claim the mantle of godhood. These would-be Ruinous Powers can often be observed by the fact they have managed to carve out their own realms in the Warp rather than simply be absorbed or conquered by the Chaos Gods. First and foremost of these is Be'lakor, the Dark Master, an antediluvian Daemon Prince who was the first creature elevated to that role. The First Everchosen, the fickle favor of the Ruinous Powers deserted him long ago, and it is for this reason he seeks revenge against them and the elevation to godhood would most definitely aid him in this pursuit. Other such entities include the daemon known as Vashtorr the Arkifane, an abomination serving the cause of Malevolent Artifice; Kweethul, a horned, muroid obscenity that desires to scheme its way to the ruin of all civilization; the Chaosbringer, a mysterious being served by the War Hounds; and dozens of other, more obscure beings of which little is known, such as Madail, the Damnation of Pythos; the Dark King; or the Screaming God-Child.
Just why the Warp continually produces more and more of these foul entities is unknown, but it is suspected to be a result of unfathomable depth of the Immaterium. To use an imperfect metaphor, when ships enter the Warp, they often skim along the surface of a vast ocean, within which lurk predators of incredible size and malice. Servants of the Chaos Gods are free to dive much deeper than any sane person would delve, but even they can be crushed by the pressure or hostile attention of rival powers or even by accident, obliterated from existence by some leviathan that does not even register them at all let alone regard them as a threat. Beneath even that lies the theoretical realm known as the Deep Warp, of which the umbilical cord at the heart of the whirlpool known as the Well of Eternity descends into such madness that even the Chaos Gods dare not look. Occasional upwellings from the Deep Warp push up currents of madness, of which scraps of information scrawled in blood by the truly insane have then filtered back to the Sons of Titan.
"When a whale dies, it falls to the ocean floor and its body becomes an oasis of life in a desert of cold and darkness. When a deity dies, their dense tapestry of psychic patterns begin to sink into the Deep Warp where it unravels and loses coherence. Who knows what strange, benthic entities live down there, subsisting on the billowing animus of rotting gods?" -Last words uttered before the execution of Cognomifex the Deranged
The sheer number of threats faced by the Grey Knights, of which these are but some of the most notable, has kept the Grey Knights constantly busy for ten thousand years. To expound all the research conducted regarding these threats would and has filled entire libraries, for which reason this text can only ever be a summary. Suffice it to say that the Sons of Titan are sworn to destroy all forms of Chaos, to forestall the Numbers Counting Down toward the galaxy being subsumed into a seething, infinite ocean of tormented souls as a result of the Immaterium spilling into realspace. The Grey Knights know the Imperium is the best chance of averting this future, a mantle of responsibility that in millennia past was carried by the Aeldari until they abandoned it in search of pleasure.
The Grey Knights have long since realized that the Leonine Heresy was merely the beginning of a new phase of a long war, one that had been going on long before the Imperium of Man came to be, and one that will continue far into the future. Until that day comes, they will continue to oppose Chaos and its minions, uprooting them at every opportunity and handing down that information to their successors that they may do the same. It is for this reason that the legion's heraldry is that of an open book with a sword through it, to represent the weapon that is knowledge. However, it is more than symbolic, for every Grey Knight bears a literal copy of this book within his breastplate, a psychic talisman known as the Liber Daemonicum which contains the legion's prayers, litanies, rituals, and lore they have accumulated. The greatest and most powerful tome is known as the Domina Liber Daemonicum, an ancient relic used by the original Supreme Grand Master Ianius, who recorded in it all six hundred and sixty six words of banishment that he alone was able to master, and which he put to great use in his epic duel against the Daemon Primarch Sanguinius upon Armageddon.
The legion colors of the Grey Knights are, as their name suggests, steel gray. This appears to be an evolution from the colors worn by the Knights-Errant and Crusader Host, who wore unpainted gray armor to show they no longer belonged to a legion. A more poetic name for this livery is Truesilver, which is related to their legion's legendary purity. Highlights of red, black, and gold are also present, often changing to form the various heraldic devices known as Oath Shields that are worn by the various legionaries. The Exorcists auxiliaries on the other hand wear armor painted as red as the blood of the innocents they are sworn to avenge, with black trim and more conventional legion-symbols indicating company and chapter. The Aegis Armor of both Grey Knights and Exorcists is heavily engraved with hexagrammic wards and sigils, which protects them in battle from the corruption and malice of daemons and their psychic powers.
The war cries of the Grey Knights are most often chanted litanies of banishment. Their very presence burns the forces of Chaos, beacons of purity arriving in brilliant flashes of silver light that begin to unravel the essence of daemons in a process that accelerates exponentially as their prayers take effect, subtly tuned to be effective against a Neverborn's particular Choir. The usage of a daemon's True Name in this process of banishment renders it far more effective than simple discorporation, meaning the daemon will not be able to take physical form once more for much longer than if it had been slain in a more conventional fashion. Such was the skill and mastery of Supreme Grand Master Ianius that he could weave several of the six hundred and sixty six words of banishment he knew into every war cry he uttered, a feat no other Grey Knight has been able to replicate. Nonetheless, their faith and strength of will still hammers painful wounds into heretics as surely and as deadly as their blessed bolt rounds and Nemesis Force Weapons. Their communal psychic mind-links means each squad prays and utters the words of psychic powers in unison, remaining unshaken even in the face of horrors that would destroy the sanity of even other Astartes.
999.M41, Segmentum Obscurus
The stars rolled on in the heavens above the Cadian System, dots of calm only faintly visible from amidst the swirling vortex that surrounded Cadia on all sides but one. The Eye of Terror was its name, and it was an Eye that never left the sight of its observers for long. It was a hole in space-time ripped open countless eons ago, though one that had once been sewn shut for most of its existence, both a stopgap measure to safeguard reality and as an act of bitterest spite and ancient jealousy. Now it yawned wider than ever, a wound torn open once more by millennia of conflict, like a scab that had been picked at until it bled once more.
All around the sore, countless watch stations took turns pointing auspex scanners at it, listening posts stationed across seven entire sectors devoted to observing fluctuations in hopes of foretelling signs of imminent eruption. The baleful nature of their subject was an ongoing concern for the stations, forcing them to constantly cycle components out, be they biological or mechanical, lest the illumination of the abyss corrupt that which looked upon it. Once merely observers, these watchposts had now become something of an early warning system. Ten millennia of incursions had provoked the creation of an extensive containment system, and all the signs pointed to a new catastrophe just on the horizon.
Hence more ships than ever before now crowded the void throughout Cadia and her sister systems. The space lanes were crawling with countless ships of every class and size, from sleek battle barges bearing companies of Astartes, to hulking Ark Mechanicums filled to the brim with skitarii cyborg-warriors, to the teeming masses of Imperial Navy cruisers that hovered above every world of the Cadia System, hastily unloading troops and armor as fast as they could.
Thus the presence of a flotilla of half a dozen silver-hulled strike cruisers went almost unnoticed, their ships obscured by the fearsome presence of a vast armada of Inquisition vessels. Half a dozen Inquisitor-Lords had congregated at Cadia, planning contingencies for every eventuality. None of them doubted the Grey Knights would be sorely required in the days to come, but when and where they would join the battle was one of the most hotly-debated subjects. The Emperor's Tarot foretold great danger, and as such a great portion of Titan's strength now mustered in the dozens of systems surrounding the Eye, though in absolute numbers they were positively miniscule beside the tens of thousands of other ships from all the other branches of the Imperial war machine.
Thus within the sanctified chapel at the heart of the strike cruiser Blade of Victory was a full company of Sanctic Astartes, along with nearly a thousand Exorcist auxiliaries. They were led by the veteran warrior-monk known as Brother-Captain Castano, who had been hand-picked for this role by the Council of Grand Masters, who continued to oversee the legion in the absence of Supreme Grand Master Kaldor Draigo. He was a veteran of three centuries, known for his impressive litanies, which even now he chanted alongside his brothers as they prepared for battle. They knew they were all that could be spared for Cadia itself, a small light in the darkness of a galaxy torn asunder by war, but they knew no doubt. Duty was all that mattered here, selling their lives for as great a price as they could manage. After death, they would go to the God-Emperor's side, the just reward for a lifetime of service given to the martyrs whose blood watered the seedbed of the Imperium.
Across Cadia and the other systems around the Eye of Terror, hymns of praise and vengeance were ringing out. It was the end of the year, by the Imperial calendar, and far away on Terra, the Bell of Lost Souls was no doubt ringing out to signal the end of the 41st Millennium. Across the vox-waves, billions of loyal sons and daughters of the Emperor raised their voices in songs of defiance, and to their psalms, Castano and his brothers lent their voices, the Sons of Titan joining in the choir of fervent prayers as they beseeched the God-Emperor to grant them the strength to drive back the encroaching tides of darkness, and to weather the gathering storm. Thus ended the 41st Millennium.
A/N: And with that, we have twenty chapters, one for each of the legions plus a starting and ending story. Have no fear though, for the tales of the Leonine Heresy are far from over. The grimdarkness of the far future will continue, and as a hint and teaser for the tales to come, I leave you with a poem. Thank you once again for sticking with me. As always, please leave reviews and comments. Sharrowkyn, out.
As Fenris burns her people cry
Zealous hate strangles all hope
Rogue Inquisitors misread signs
As they satisfy a hoax
Ere the Sorcerers come to play
Laughing as their schemes uncloak
Coming soon: The Doom of Fenris
On and on the sands of time
Move to unleash Ahriman's schemes
Every plot to undo Fate
Serving the Court of the Crimson King