When it came to dealing with the Thunder Warriors, the Emperor had indeed been merciless.
He dispatched the Custodian Guard, along with the newly created Astartes, to purge them. In fact, even the First Legion of the Astartes had taken part in this action.
Yet the Emperor had done all this for the sake of humanity's good, the unity of holy terra. The flaws within the Thunder Warriors were far too great, and their instability was incomparable to the Astartes.
"I do not wish to explain too much to you. You would not understand. Your vision is too narrow," Malcador said.
An ordinary soldier, whose head was alredy muddled, could never see things from the perspective of those above, nor could he grasp their burdens. Malcador had no intention of explaining further.
By now, more than a dozen Custodians clad in golden power armor had surrounded them. The Thunder Warriors' bodies were indeed powerful, yet that did not mean they could stand against the Custodian Guard.
Even against the Astartes, they only held an advantage in raw strength.
The nineteen superhuman implants granted the Astartes countless abilities that surpassed the limits of ordinary humanity.
"Utterly laughable. All I know is that we were betrayed by the one we swore to serve! We are nothing more than sacrifices in a political game," the leading Thunder Warrior roared.
Today, only a few of them had accompanied Erda here to Holy Terra.
The moment she revealed herself, they knew they would not leave alive. By rights, they should have died decades ago. Even so, if death was inevitable, they were determined to drag at least one Custodian down with them.
Their intent was clear. None of the Thunder Warriors rushed toward Horus, nor toward Malcador. Instead, they charged together at the nearest Custodian.
The Custodians did not betray a hint of emotion.
A spear traced a golden arc, and the Thunder Warrior in the lead was instantly pierced through the chest, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
The second Thunder Warrior was kicked flying, and the power weapon in the Custodian's hands left only golden afterimages in the air. In mere moments, five Thunder Warriors lay dismembered.
The other Custodians did not even bother to intervene.
The disparity between Thunder Warriors and Custodians was too great. Their true target was Erda.
By now, Malcador had already led more than a dozen Custodians to surround the Mother of the Primarchs.
Horus found himself at a loss, torn and bewildered.
"Malcador, what are you doing? The woman before you is my mother, not only mine, but the mother of all the Primarchs!" Horus said, his voice low.
"There are things you do not understand, Horus. Stand down at once. I must take this woman into custody.
"Surrender yourself, Erda!" Malcador declared.
In truth, he only needed her to resist slightly. Then, at the right moment, he would secretly help her escape, fulfilling the Emperor's will.
If this woman were truly meant to die, the Officio Assassinorum would already have struck.
Killing her outright would p[ossibly tear away the last shred of humanity within the Emperor, perhaps even drive him to irrevocably embrace godhood, becoming something he didn't wish to.
So long as she remained away from the Emperor, unable to influence him toward wrong choices or bring him pain again, Malcador would let her live.
But she must remain far from the Emperor, and far from the Imperium.
At that moment, Horus's expression turned ashen.
His eyes instinctively sought out his father, the Emperor, as if begging him for help.
Since childhood, as early as his life in the gang, Horus had longed for fatherly and motherly love.
In his youth, he had learned of his origins, that he was a Primarch, created by the Emperor, and brought back to Holy Terra by the Mechanicum.
Here, he had experienced fatherly love for the first time. The thirty years he had spent alone with the Emperor were the happiest of his life. For the first time, he had a father. He was no longer a lost child.
Yet one thing was still missing: the love of a mother. Among all the Primarchs, only Guilliman had ever known such affection.
Now, his mother stood before him, yet his father's most trusted regent sought to imprison her. It was something he could not, under any circumstance, accept.
Suddenly, a figure descended from above, before Horus.
It was Rogal Dorn. He stepped directly into Horus's path, his stern gaze warning him against doing anything rash.
"Stay here, brother. Do not move, do not act. This is the best outcome for you," Dorn said firmly.
"Rogal, don't tell me you cannot feel it, you know who she is!"
"So what if I do? What we do now is for the sake of all humanity. We need only obey Father's will. Nothing else matters," Dorn replied.
His loyalty lay only with the Emperor.
As for a mother, such things was beyond them, it was not for Primarchs.
Erda looked at Horus with a gaze full of quiet appreciation.
She could feel it, this son of hers had emotions, rich and genuine.
He was a human being of flesh and blood, not a mere tool or machine.
But the other one, clad in golden armor, was nothing but a cold and merciless executioner. He had become the very image of what Erda had never wished her children to be.
"I only ever wished for you to be free," Erda said, "I wanted you to have the freedom to choose your own lives, not to become your father's instruments. I wished for you to remain human, real humans of flesh and blood."
"The Primarchs were born for the Great Crusade. Their existence is to serve the Emperor, and through him, to serve humanity. Nothing more," Rogal Dorn replied.
"Father! Can we not speak of this? We are a family, let us sit and talk! Whatever wrongs my mother has committed, at least grant her a chance to atone!" Horus cried out to the Emperor.
But he knew Dorn could ruin everything.
Rogal was not his equal, but he could stall him long enough.
"I was never wrong," Erda answered firmly, "I did not betray your father, it was he who betrayed me.
"My son, I am proud you have grown to be who you are today. You are a man of flesh and blood, a man with true freedom of thought.
"But you must remember this: I want you to be free, to live as a normal person, not as someone else's pawn. You must never let yourself become a tool, not your father's tool."
"Enough!" The Emperor's voice boomed like thunder.
Horus had never seen his father so furious.
Instinctively, he took half a step back, yet the stubbornness in his blood forced him to halt and stand his ground, staring directly at his father.
"Father, I need an answer. She—"
"She is nothing!" The Emperor's psychic pressure washed over Horus, nearly knocking him off his feet.
But his first and most headstrong son gritted his teeth, refusing to fall, his gaze fixed on the Emperor, unshaken.
In truth, after decades of sharing time with Horus alone, the Emperor had come to see him as more than a tool. Unlike the other Primarchs, Horus was his true son.
He was even chosen as the heir, the second Emperor of Mankind.
Horus might not have been the most gifted in every aspect, but he was the most balanced, the only one capable of commanding the loyalty of all his brothers.
The Emperor had already decided Horus's path: after more time spent on the Great Crusade, once all the Primarchs had been found and reunited, he would return to Holy Terra to complete the Webway and ftl projects.
The powers of the Crusade would be passed entirely to Horus, making him Warmaster of the Imperium.
"Return to your place at once. You disappoint me, Horus. Since when have you become so reckless?" the Emperor's voice thundered, shaking Horus's eardrums.
He had never witnessed his father so terrifying.
From a distance, Axis watched with amusement. Truly, family drama was always great to watch fromthe sidelines.
Pushing Horus into this was certainly the right choice. Now then, how would the old man end this scene?
Kasha pinched his side hard. "You bastard, what are you smirking at?"
Axis wore the face of a spectator enjoying the spectacle, and it infuriated her.
Her mother's life was at stake, and he was treating it like a play.
Still, she reassured herself. The Emperor would not kill Erda. At most, he would imprison her, just as He had once imprisoned Kasha.
"Hey, can't you do something!" Kasha asked, holding Axis' hand tighter.
"You want me to do something? Fine, then I'll do something." A sly smile crept onto Axis's lips.
After all, she had asked for it. So he would step in.
"Erda! Even now, you do not realize the scale of your mistakes. Because of you…. You truly have no idea.
"You were deceived, blinded by…" The Emperor wansn't able to utter the word chaos.
"My will has always been my own!" Erda shot back, not letting the Emperor finish, "I have never been swayed by anyone. I saw through your ambition, your hunger for power. And I was right!
"Look at what you have turned the Primarchs into, our sons, now nothing more than your instruments of war!
"I know of a certain kind of fool," Axis interjected calmly as he stepped forward, down to the ground from the dias, landing like lightly with the heavy armour, "who loves to strut about the streets, ruler in hand, measuring the stature of others, yet never once thinking to measure himself."
His words froze everyone in place for a moment.
Then, one by one, they turned to look at Erda.
"Or perhaps," Axis continued with a smile, "a fool so stupid that after being sold off, he still helps count the money for the very man who sold him."
Erda's face darkened, her gaze growing cold as she glared at Axis.
The meaning behind his words was very clear. He was mocking her directly.
A fool with a ruler, forever measuring others while refusing to measure herself.
A fool sold off, yet still tallying the coins for her betrayer.
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WAARRRGGGGHHH We're still some ps short of bonus chapters!!!! have a great day/night!