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How was I supposed to know? They were too alike, father and son. How was I supposed to know?

I will be martyred like my brothers. Like Ferrus, charging headstrong into a blatant ambush. He is now the hero who was willing to die in the name of the Imperium. Like Vulkan, executed unceremoniously by an artillery barrage. He is now the hero who the Salamanders claim will return and save the Imperium in its time of need. Like Sanguinius, who sought to slay the Warmaster alone. He is now the Emperor’s favorite son who sacrificed himself to allow the Warmaster to be defeated.

The people need their heroes.

I am about to launch an assault that any competent tactician would regard as suicide. I am outnumbered ten to one. Here, vessels from all the Traitor Legions have amassed under Abaddon. After his brutal conquest of the Eye of Terror they have bestowed upon him the title of Despoiler. Despite him being their new Warmaster, they don’t like to call him that. The Traitors are afraid to face the fact their Warmaster is dead. In a way, he isn’t.

Across the galaxy, Gulliman is struggling against the forces of the Alpha Legion. Instead of fleeing to the Eye of Terror they instead slipped off to Eastern fringes of the galaxy, directly galactic north of Macragge. Gulliman is unwilling to deal with anything outside of Macragge anymore. He has lost faith in the Imperium, declaring the High Lords madmen and the galaxy doomed. The people don’t need to know this.

Russ is rampaging through the forces of the Greenskins; they made resurgence during the Battle of Terra. He still holds great spite for the Thousand Sons, dreaming of laying Magnus low. His obsession is unhealthy; it will undoubtedly be the doom of him. The people don’t need to know this.

Khan has slipped out of the limelight. When the Imperium is threatened he brings his forces where they are needed and fights without complaint. I admire him, remaining stalwart as the galaxy falls apart. He hasn’t been contacted in weeks following his interception of a Dark Eldar raid. There are rumors that he is dead, or worse has been captured by the sadistic creatures. The people don’t need to know this.

El’Jonson has gone mad. While the battle raged on Terra he remained on Caliban, claiming to be dealing with ‘unfinished business’ there. By the time he arrived the war was over. Now he hides within the Rock, wracked with guilt for some unknown crime. The people don’t need to know this.

Lastly, there is Corax. He has committed a crime of unspeakable nature, tampering the perfect genes of the Astartes and creating something horrible. Some of his Legion blame this failure on the meddling of the Alpha Legion, but we know only he is at fault. Much like the Dark Angels, his Legion fights without him now while he hides in his fortress. The people don’t need to know this.

The golden age is coming to an end. I don’t know how much longer the Imperium will last. It could be days, years, centuries. But the Imperium as we once knew it is long dead, having perished in the earliest days of the Warmaster’s treachery. The Traitors haven’t lost; the war has only begun.

When I found the aftermath of the Emperor and the Warmaster’s great battle aboard the Vengeful Spirit I saw only two horrid corpses, shells of once great entities burnt to oblivion. One reached out with a shouldering appendage of blackened meat and tried to speak. I leaned in close and he instructed me, weekly, to place him in the Golden Throne. His mouth was a slit in his deformed face, leaving him barely capable of speech.

Abaddon entered the room, tears streaming down his eyes, his gauntlet dripping with the blood of the faithful Custodians. Without saying a word, he launched into a furious attack. He was a fearsome opponent, on the same level of myself and brothers. If the melee had lasted, I don’t know who would’ve won. But that wasn’t the case.

I saw that the living one had gone silent, it’s blind eyes rolled back in its socket. Determined to save the Emperor, I threw him over my shoulder and fled. In his tactical dreadnought armor, Abaddon was unable to keep pace and instead remained with the corpse, sobbing.

With a team of the finest Tech Priests, I was able to save him. He was plugged into the Golden Throne and parts of its psychic machinery were diverted to keep him alive, as he had instructed. I remember very clearly the last thing he said to me.

“Thank you, brother.”

This took awhile to write, so I expected it to be longer. But yeah, C&C is appreciated. And I know this contradicts canon somewhat.

I've actually seen a few alternate stories where Horus was put on the Throne instead of the Emperor, but this one puts the rest to shame. The POV of Rogal Dorn was great.

Nice stuff lonelictor ( as always)

I like the recurring theme you had running throughout. The needs for heroes in a dark time, and the way propaganda pastes over unpleasant details. Very thematic for the way the Imperium was transforming in this time period.

And don't worry about canonical inaccuracies. When the BL eventually gets around to writing this stuff, the authors will inevitably take their own liberties with the fluff.

I like it.


Nom