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Chapter 73: The Strife of the Firstborn
The sky that had always stayed dark in Commorragh now turned crimson, illuminated by the burning fires of Imperial wrath.
Many weapons of mass destruction, such as torpedo salvos, missile barrages, and lance strikes, devastated the shadowed spires of Commorragh.
The air was thick with chaos and destruction.
The Dark City's magnificent architecture, monuments to ten millennia of cruelty, excess hedonism, and vile debauchery, crumbled beneath the Emperor's judgment.
On this day, the Imperium brought illumination to countless Dark Eldar and their chattel who had dwelt their entire existence in the lower reaches of the webway metropolis, never knowing the warmth of a star's embrace.
In that golden light, they found their salvation and walked free from bondage.
The vaults of Commorragh thundered with the symphony of war.
Storm clouds of ordnance curled through the air like iron serpents. Las-fire streaked across the vast halls, creating brilliant arcs similar to fireworks in the sky, while explosions blossomed like deadly flowers throughout the alien realm.
Obsidian Emperor-class Titans advanced with ponderous majesty through the shattered streets.
Their massive forms, armoured in blessed ceramite and adamantium, carved paths of unstoppable destruction through the xenos stronghold.
These were war machines consecrated for one single purpose: absolute annihilation.
Ā From the moment of their creation in the forges of Mars, they existed to erase all enemies of mankind.
Each Emperor Titan bore armour plating several meters thick, armed with weapon systems capable of levelling city blocks, and Void Shields rivalling those of Imperial battleships.
They were mobile fortresses of the Omnissiah's wrath, instruments of the Great Crusade's unstoppable advance. Behind the god-machines strode cohorts of Warlord-class Titans and entire Knight households.
Ā Like a spear tip, they penetrated the outer districts of Commorragh, driving toward the Dark City's heart without pause or mercy.
Tens of thousands of Dark Eldar fled in fear as they fell like mere ants before the advancing war engines.
Those xenos warriors brave enough to lead resistance were crushed beneath adamantine feet or vaporised in the crossfire of macro weapons.
The Titan crews paid no heed to such insignificant opposition.
The follow-up forces would eliminate whatever remaining vermin forces were left.
The Legio's main goals were to destroy key structures and eliminate the Engines of Pain as they progressed to engage them.
The Dark Eldar had inherited much from their fallen empire.
Among these legacies were colossal war constructs made from psychically responsive wraithbone.
Unlike their Craftworld counterparts, the denizens of Commorragh could not use the souls of their ancestors to control these titans.
Ā Their rejection of psychic arts deprived them of the primary way to operate wraithbone constructs.
To bypass this limitation, they used forbidden alchemy and heretical technologies to create Pain Cores, abominations that fed on despair, agony, and terror.
Through these vile abominations of machines, they corrupted the elegant wraithbone titans into Engines of Pain, then bound tormented souls within to serve as pilots.
The clash between Imperial god-machines and xenos abominations erupted across Commorragh's sprawl.
Titan weapons fired with the brightness of newborn stars, casting stark shadows across the battlefield. Both forces fought like gods of war, their exchanges shattering spires and reducing city blocks to rubble.
As the battle entered a brutal stalemate, the Emperor's grand design continued to unfold.
Through the Rakarth's tireless entreaties, both the Master of Mankind and Raven had agreed to his audacious proposal.
They would assemble an elite strike force to assault the Spire District directly and eliminate the ancient noble dynasty of Commorragh.
After capturing those high-ranking xenos, I humbly request that you entrust them into my custody, as was promised.
"They are yours, Rakarth, do as you please", Raven replied.
The haemonculus smiled with satisfaction but immediately knelt to demonstrate complete servitude. "You honour me with your mercy, Lord Raven."
'Why did you agree to this xeno's request?' the Emperor inquired through their psychic link.
'Why should I not? Those creatures have perpetrated atrocities beyond counting for ten millennia. Would it not be wasteful to grant them swift death?'
Raven's mental voice carried unmistakable anticipation.
"It is way better to deliver them to this artisan of suffering than killing them in one go. We should let them experience the pain and terror they have inflicted upon countless other souls."
Moreover, this Rakarth could be valuable in future endeavours through the webway. Perhaps we should keep his services as a consultant for interrogating Warp entities.
"Your capacity for calculated cruelty rivals my own," the Emperor observed after considering Raven's explanation.
"Exactly!! Or else, how could we function as such effective partners?" Raven responded with obvious satisfaction.
"Say!! Emperor, would you like to bear the honour of being my 'Partners in Eternity'?"
"That will not be necessary, our cooperation is most efficient as it is, any further and it will be a pointless ceremony," the Emperor declined immediately.
His experiences in the Eternal Universe had instilled in him a profound respect for Raven's vocal performances.
By the Throne, the Master of Mankind actually expressed gratitude, Holy Terra! Is the sun rising in the West or what?" Raven exclaimed with exaggerated shock through their psychic connection.
The Emperor considered it wise to maintain dignified silence.
While Raven continued to ask the Emperor whether the sun rose from the west, on the other side, the final strike force had assembled on the teleportation deck.
The Primarchs were honoured to accompany their father into battle.
Horus participated in pre-combat rituals as Mechanicus adepts blessed his war plate with sacred oils and incense.
Among those present with Primarch Horus were First Captain Abaddon, Fourth Captain Hastur Sejanus, Fifth Captain Horus Aximand, and many other warriors of the Sixteenth Legion, who gathered in respectful attendance around their gene father.
With the successive recovery of the Primarchs and the triumphs of the Great Crusade, the Legiones Astartes had earned names to match their numbered designations.
The Sixteenth Legion, through exemplary conduct in a recent campaign, had received the Emperor's commendation and the title of Luna Wolves.
Across the staging area, the First Legion bore their honours as the Dark Angels.
Horus observed his brother and rival, Lion El'Jonson, who was conducting his preparations.
A circle of First Legion warriors attended their Primarch, Merir Astelan, and Corswain from Terra, alongside Luther, Sar Daviel, and other knights who had been recruited from Caliban, which now served as their home world.
The Lion's preternatural awareness detected Horus's scrutiny, and he turned to meet his brother's gaze.
"Lion," Horus acknowledged his brother.
"Horus," came the measured reply from Primarch Lion El'Johnson
"Commorragh presents us with an ideal proving ground for our capabilities. It also offers us our most anticipated opportunity."
"What manner of opportunity do you speak of?" Lion asked his brother, though he already knew the answer.
"A CHANCE !!, a chance to determine which of us truly deserves the title of Firstborn."
"Hmph, you're still reacting to that like a child, brother. You should now accept that such determination isn't needed," Lion replied with his usual dignified straightforwardness.
That matter was decided at the moment of our Creation, and you already know I am the Primarch of the First Legion, and you are of the Sixteenth.
"The number our Legion bears no credibility as to who is first. We are all brothers created simultaneously; yet it was I who first bore the banners of our father," Horus countered with evident conviction.
"The sequence of our reunion holds no ground for who is the First Son. Tell me, Horus, do no better proposal answer this question of precedence?"
"Or has it become your habit to waste our time in your childish banters?"
Horus' eyes gained a sharp edge as he closed the distance between him and Lion and spoke, "The title of First Born of our Father is not a matter of childish banter, Lion and if you want a challenge, that's exactly what you'll get."
He raised his arm, pointing towards the Commoragh below, which has turned into the land of Hellfire.
"We both will lead a strike team to the Spire District of Commorragh and the Victory shall belong to whoever arrives first and captures the most high-value prisoners."
"This will be the battle, to finally decide who holds the right to be called the First son of the Emperor."
"Do you accept it?"
Horus's proposal struck a chord in the Knightly heart of the Primarch, as visible anticipation flickered in the Lion's pale eyes.
He looked at his assembled Gene-Sons. "Can I depend on you to bring this honour to the First Legion?"
"Without question, my lord," Astelan spoke immediately with no moment wasted on hesitation. "Victory shall be ours if you will it.
Perhaps you should consider choosing your words more carefully before making such bold claims, Abaddon interjected, his Cthonian temperament flaring at the perceived arrogance.
Astelan replied without backing down, saying, "I can prove the truth of my words right now, if you'd like."
"Gladly," Abaddon began to advance, but Horus raised a restraining hand.
"Stand down, the Teleportation will commence momentarily."
Lion also commanded Astelan to stop his provocations before they jeopardized the mission.
The Lion held Horus with a steady gaze, and Horus returned the stare. Both demigods in mortal form, eager to assert their First Born rights, looked at each other with such focus that any mortal would have fainted, overwhelmed by the aura radiating from both Primarchs.
Lion spoke his final words: "The victor shall bear the title of Firstborn, and the defeated will never mention this again. Do you agree, Brother?"
Horus responded, "You stole my words, Brother. And I will prove to all that I am Father's greatest son."
Lion looked at Horus of Cthonia with a condescending gaze, and Horus took one final look at the Lion of Caliban.
Ā The warriors of both legions stared across from each other, their eyes showing no doubt, only fiery, absolute confidence that victory would be theirs to command.
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