[Note: Sorry guys I couldn't update for a few weeks, my friend just died, and my other friend is still in a coma, so I did some mourning. I'll be posting 1-2 chapters every week starting now until I reach the last updated translation of this fanfic. Hope you enjoy the chapter!]
The images on the screen gradually faded, finally freezing on Horus's face, which was filled with frustration and self-doubt.
The Warmaster had just been forced to personally intervene, knocking his own brother Angron unconscious like a street brawler, simply to prevent him from tipping off the enemy.
The absurdity of this scene even diluted the sorrow brought by the previous Istvaan III massacre.
A bizarre atmosphere fell over the Throne Room. It wasn't simple fear, but a complex mix of disbelief, contempt, and deep strategic regret.
It was Guilliman who broke the silence.The Primarch of the Ultramarines, the finest administrator in the galaxy, was currently looking at the screen with the same expression one would have when looking at a "pile of messy accounts."
"Unbelievable."
Guilliman shook his head, his voice filled with the professional anger of a Commander.
"This isn't an army at all. This is a pack of thugs, addicts, and psychopaths wearing Power Armor."
"There is no chain of command, no discipline, and no unified strategic objective."
Guilliman stood up, pointing at the chaotic scenes just displayed on the screen.
The Emperor's Children attacking the World Eaters to steal glands, the Death Guard turning a blind eye to their allies, and Angron even trying to help the enemy.
"Brothers, do you realize?"
Guilliman looked toward Ferrus, Vulkan, and Corax, his tone somber.
"If we... if our future selves could have been just a little bit calmer. If Ferrus hadn't been so hasty to charge in."
"We wouldn't even have needed to lift a finger."
"Simply blockading the Istvaan system and waiting for a month... no, perhaps only two weeks."
"This so-called 'rebel army' would have destroyed itself through infighting, withdrawal symptoms, and the paralysis of their command system.
"These words were like salt rubbed into Ferrus Manus's wounds.
The Primarch of the Iron Hands looked at his own hands, his face ashen. The Fury he once took pride in had now become the most foolish of catalysts.
"I lost to a pack of lunatics..." Ferrus gritted his teeth, his voice low. "Not because their tactics were superior, but simply because... I was more impatient than they were."
On the other side, the real-world Horus felt an unprecedented, bone-deep sense of shame.
As the Warmaster, the Imperium's most perfect Commander, he had always taken pride in his Legions' absolute coordination.
But that future version of himself on the screen, that so-called "Warmaster of Chaos," looked like a pathetic kindergarten principal responsible for cleaning up after children who had wet themselves.
"Look at them..."
Horus pointed at the screen, giving Maloghurst a bitter smile.
"Can such a team be led? Can such a war be won?"
"Angron wants to tip off the enemy, Fulgrim is busy with art and drugs, Mortarion is skulking in the dark... and I'm supposed to rely on this lot to attack Terra? To challenge Father?"
Horus covered his face.
"This hurts more than failure. It's... embarrassing. To hand the fate of humanity over to these creatures with no sense of honor or discipline is a complete joke."
The most complex gazes in the room were focused on Angron.
Before, everyone would have simply dismissed him as a mad dog.
But that scene just now—where he tried to warn Ferrus for the sake of a "fair fight," even at the cost of being beaten by Horus—made everyone see him in a strange new light.
"You're a bastard, Angron."
Leman Russ looked at the bound Lord of the Red Sands, his tone holding slightly less mockery and a hint more respect. "But you're a principled bastard."
"In that cesspool of a rebel army, you were actually the only one still concerned with 'warrior's honor.'
"Russ grinned, baring his fangs. "Even though your brain is broken and only a fool would try to tip off the enemy... I have to say, well done."
The real-world Angron snorted coldly and turned his head away. "I don't need your evaluation, Wolf-cub. I just didn't want to win like a coward."
Everyone realized one thing: this catastrophe could have been avoided, or at least contained.
If Horus hadn't been wounded by that dagger.
If Lorgar hadn't gone searching for so-called "gods."
If Ferrus could have controlled his rage.
These countless "ifs" were like shackles, locking the fate of the Imperium of Man onto a path toward destruction.
And the Angron, Fulgrim, and Mortarion on the screen... they were no longer the high-spirited heroes of the Great Crusade; they had become pathetic, laughable, and hateful monsters.
Like a group of madmen throwing a frantic party right before the Titanic sank.
"This is Chaos."
Malcador's voice rang out in the silence, old and cautionary. "It grants no glory; it only grants madness. It promises power, but it takes away dignity."
"Look at them, My Lords."
Malcador pointed at the twisted figures on the screen.
"This is the price of betrayal. Not Death, but becoming a joke."
Marvel Universe
Captain America set his shield heavily on the table.
"This reminds me of why Red Skull failed."
The Captain evaluated.
"Evil can never truly coexist because they are all self-centered. That man named Fulgrim harmed his allies for the sake of pleasure; that one named Angron sabotaged the big picture for personal honor."
"Such a loose alliance wouldn't even be worth fearing if it weren't for the internal misjudgments of the loyalist faction."
Nick Fury wrote a line in his notebook: On the Importance of Team Psychological Construction.
"If the Avengers became like this, I would have resigned long ago," Fury remarked. "That bald Warmaster's mental fortitude is impressive for not having a stroke on the spot."
DC Universe
Batman's gaze remained cold.
"The essence of Chaos is disorder."
He analyzed in front of the Batcomputer."
Though they gained great power, they also lost the most core element of an army—discipline. These are Beasts possessing divine power."
"If we were to face such an enemy,"
Batman looked toward Superman.
"There would be no need for a direct confrontation. Simply cut their supplies and sow discord among them, and they will tear each other to pieces."
Wonder Woman Diana was nauseated by the actions of the Emperor's Children.
"They have lost the soul of a warrior."
Diana said.
"Indulging in drugs and sensory stimulation is a sacrilege against the body and spirit. Ares was cruel, but at least he was still a warrior. But these people... they are merely slaves to their desires."
Land of Light
Father of Ultra felt a deep sorrow seeing those once-glorious giants turned into what they were now.
"They were once Guardians."
Father of Ultra sighed. "The Land of Light also once faced the fall of Belial. Power without the guidance of the heart becomes the most terrible poison.
"Zoffy made a judgment from a military perspective:
"If the loyalist army could have held their ground and not let anger cloud their judgment, this rebel army would have collapsed from internal attrition before ever reaching Terra."
"Alas... anger is also one of the weapons of Chaos."