"Great master, everything proceeds as planned. We have captured Abaddon," Tartarus reported to Rhodes via distant link, detailing the operation.
"Well done. Proceed exactly to plan. There must be no mistakes," Rhodes answered from Holy Terra.
This Alien Barbarue had been specially exchanged by Rhodes to deal with Abaddon, with all attributes and skills enhanced to the maximum.
All that remained was to obtain Abaddon's genetic sample for a perfect transformation. After all, the Warmaster was not so unique as to be inimitable.
Impersonation was a specialty of the Alien Barbarues. One had taken Rhodes's form before; an earlier one even impersonated a Necron with no issue.
There were drawbacks: the impersonation couldn't last long—at most through the Vigilus campaign before exposure. Abaddon, after all, was the Chosen of the Chaos Gods. Though Aisha no longer blessed him, the other three still did—and a certain lesser god named Vashtorr was in the mix as well.
So even with Abaddon's appearance, the impersonator couldn't command his true power or receive the Chaos blessings.
Aisha had shed most of her divine authority and could no longer choose a champion—barely capable of elevating a Chaos Champion at all.
But for the Vigilus war, it would suffice. Rhodes intended the fake Abaddon to squander the Black Fleet and collapse the Black Legion's armada.
He struck now because Abaddon was about to lead most of the Black Legion out to war and would not be in contact with Vashtorr—giving Rhodes the chance to swap him out.
…
Elsewhere, after extracting the Warmaster's tissue sample, the Barbarue flashed with black light and became Abaddon.
With a powerful soul, he could channel some dark energies. Clad in Abaddon's Terminator plate, he was nearly indistinguishable—even in combat, scarcely inferior to the real thing.
"Truly Abaddon himself. Here—take Drach'nyen. With it, you are the Warmaster," Sidonis said, smiling as he picked the black daemonblade off the floor.
The sword was tremendously potent—one of the galaxy's finest artifacts, said to have been born from humanity's first murder. During the First Black Crusade, Abaddon restored its power, and since then the blade had recognized him as its master.
The Barbarue-turned-Abaddon nodded and reached for the hilt—but Drach'nyen shuddered violently, straining to tear free of his grip.
Startled, the Barbarue seized the weapon with both hands, trying to suppress it.
"The weapon resists me! It has its own will—it refuses to serve me," he said.
No one had expected a hitch at the final step. Abaddon's accessory refused to accept a new master. This daemonblade belonged to Abaddon alone.
Clang!
Drach'nyen fell to the floor.
"You've got to be kidding—this weapon's that stubborn? Use my rune-sword for now. The Lady herself blessed it and inscribed Chaos runes; it's made of extradimensional metal—quite powerful," Sidonis offered, drawing his violet blade.
"No. Drach'nyen is Abaddon's sigil. It never leaves his side," Rhodes said, shaking his head. Impersonating Abaddon had another hurdle: taming Drach'nyen. It would not easily bow. Of his people, the Slaanesh Killer could handle it; the Dark Emperor of the shadow universe could, too—indeed, the latter could likely subdue and corrupt it with his dark energies.
"What now, master?" the Barbarue asked.
A minor snag at the end—perhaps he should head the fleet to Vigilus first, dealing with Drach'nyen later?
"Or we could seal it—drain all its energy, force it into dormancy, then make it a prop," the Barbarue suggested.
He didn't intend to use the weapon; sheathed, it would serve as decoration.
"No. The blade exudes a potent aura palpable to Chaos Astartes outside. Such a trick could fool mortals, but not Chaos Astartes, sorcerers, or daemons," Rhodes refused.
"Master, I have a solution," Tartarus said after a moment's thought.
"Speak," Rhodes replied.
"This blade is powerful. We can siphon off its warp-energies to induce dormancy. It will lose much of its might, but its aura will remain enough to fool most. We'll also seal it to suppress its sentience," Tartarus proposed.
Reduce its energy signature to a minimum; its spirit sleeps and won't know its bearer. The aura remains Drach'nyen's, merely weaker—unlikely to arouse suspicion among most Chaos Astartes and sorcerers.
"Good. Do it—and add a seal. No mishaps," Rhodes ordered.
Tartarus nodded. He and Sidonis employed warp techniques to drain the blade's Chaos energy, which they repurposed by infusing Sidonis's sword, enhancing it.
Poor Drach'nyen—paired with a mediocre master, its power squandered, its energies siphoned. After draining eighty percent of its might, Tartarus sealed the blade, suppressing its sentience and leaving it a warped weapon that would no longer resist its bearer.
Armed with Drach'nyen, the Talon of Horus, and Terminator plate, the Barbarue truly looked the Warmaster's part.
"Good. All is ready. Barbarue: lead the fleets to Vigilus," Rhodes commanded.
In Abaddon's guise, the Barbarue strode out with confidence, summoned his Terminator bodyguard, and boarded the flagship Vengeful Spirit. He led the Black Legion armada toward Vigilus. They would sail the Warp for months to reach the target.
Chaos sails the Warp more deftly than the Imperium; under the Chaos Gods' aegis, there is no peril—no foolish daemon would attack their fleet.
The Vigilus front: the fake Abaddon plan was in place.
…
On Holy Terra, Regent Guilliman donned the Armor of Fate and boarded the Gloriana-class battleship, the Macragge's Honour, ready to depart for Vigilus.
"Guilliman, I'll hide in the shadows. When the battle is fiercest, I'll appear at your side," Rhodes said.
"Understood. I'll be careful. Calgar will depart from Macragge and rendezvous with me at Vigilus," Guilliman replied.
As bait, he had to play his role convincingly, so he'd bring the former Ultramarines Chapter Master Marneus Calgar along—though Calgar didn't know the full picture.
After decades of fusion with the Cosmic Beast, Guilliman could freely command its energy—his strength, especially his defenses, had grown immensely.
Rhodes nodded. He and the Emperor watched as Guilliman departed with the extradimensional avatar Rhodes had manufactured on Mars.
"Rhodes, will you only head to the front when the war begins?" the Emperor asked.
"No. I'm going now. I need to prepare the battlefield—I must arrive before everyone else," Rhodes said.
With Tartarus, the galaxy held no distance for Rhodes; he could appear anywhere at will. That's the swagger of instant transit.
Vigilus is a mess—Orks, the crafty ones, local powers, the Ecclesiarchy, the Mechanicus—a grand melee of many sides.