Chapter 32: Magnus's Defenses Collapse
Magnus the Red came to a troubling realization.
Erebus possessed no combat technique whatsoever.
None.
The man fought entirely on instinct—charging, dodging, and striking like a tavern brawler rather than a warrior trained in the arts of war.
Yet something about him was deeply wrong.
Magnus's psychic attacks should have ended the fight in seconds. A primarch's mind was a weapon capable of crushing armored vehicles or tearing daemons apart.
Instead, every strike of Warp energy behaved strangely when it touched Erebus.
It did not explode.
It did not burn.
It simply… faded.
Like rain vanishing into dry sand.
Magnus frowned.
Is this even a human?
His attacks struck Erebus and dispersed as if absorbed by something invisible. The sensation was deeply uncomfortable—like striking an empty void.
"You red giant!" Erebus shouted while dodging another psychic lash. "Is running away all you can do?"
Magnus's patience snapped.
Now he understood why the Emperor had ordered him to discipline this man.
Magnus raised his hand slowly.
A sphere of condensed Warp energy formed above his palm. It grew rapidly—swirling currents of power tearing loose stones from the arena floor. Psychic shockwaves rippled through the air.
Erebus watched quietly.
Then he drew the sword at his waist.
He silently hoped that Lorgar's gift would last longer than the previous ones.
High above the arena, the Emperor observed the battle beside Lorgar.
"Who do you believe will win," the Emperor asked calmly, "your brother or Erebus?"
"Erebus," Lorgar answered immediately.
The Emperor narrowed His eyes.
Then—very subtly—He strengthened Magnus's psychic field with a whisper of His own power.
Lorgar noticed nothing.
Below them, the battlefield had become a storm of psychic energy.
Warp-tendrils erupted from the ground, reaching toward Erebus like grasping hands. Magnus manipulated them effortlessly, attempting to bind his opponent.
Erebus darted between them.
"You're worse than Lorgar in a fight!" he shouted.
Insulting two primarchs at once proved extremely effective.
Magnus's eyes glowed with furious Warp-light.
Wave after wave of psychic force surged forward. Magnus vanished in flashes of teleportation, striking from different angles like a crimson specter.
Erebus blocked with his sword—
—and the blade shattered.
Again.
Erebus sighed internally.
At this point he wanted to punch both Magnus and Lorgar.
Magnus gathered a massive surge of psychic force and hurled it forward.
Erebus closed his eyes and ran straight into it.
Nothing happened.
Well… almost nothing.
The Warp energy struck him, burned faintly across his skin—
—and then vanished.
Somewhere deep within the Immaterium, the black coffin absorbed the energy like a starving beast.
Erebus had discovered this peculiar ability years ago.
Psychic power did not harm him.
It charged him.
Which made Magnus, unfortunately, the best possible opponent.
"You're so red you barely look human," Erebus continued cheerfully.
Psychic energy slammed into his face.
Nothing.
"How did the Emperor produce something like you?"
More psychic blasts struck him.
Still nothing.
Magnus sat half-upright in a crater, trembling with rage. His mind could not process what he was seeing.
A human being immune to psychic power?
Impossible.
The Emperor had raised Magnus well.
A primarch must maintain discipline.
A primarch must not curse.
A Primarch must—
"A pale emperor produces a crimson son," Erebus continued loudly. "Are you sure you're actually related?"
Magnus's mind snapped.
"Damn you, Erebus!" he roared. "I will end you!"
The psychic technique that escaped Magnus's mind in that moment was something he had never used before.
Pure rage.
Unfiltered Warp fury.
Even he did not recognize it.
Erebus had been waiting for exactly this moment.
He stepped forward and punched Magnus directly in the face.
Then he punched him again.
"For the Emperor!"
The instant the words left his mouth—
A tremendous impact struck Erebus from behind.
The Emperor's psychic kick launched him across the arena like artillery fire. He smashed through walls, tore across a street, and finally embedded himself halfway into the city wall.
His vision dimmed.
Through fading consciousness he saw Magnus standing amid a pillar of rising Warp energy.
And in the distance—
The Emperor walking calmly away beside Lorgar.
"Petty…" Erebus muttered weakly.
A final psychic bolt knocked him unconscious.
Far away, the Emperor had reached a private chamber.
For the first time in many years, he entertained a very sincere thought.
Perhaps my sons should not participate in the Great Crusade.
The Emperor studied a stack of parchment recovered by His Custodians.
Each page contained hymns praising the God-Emperor of Mankind.
Every line made His temples ache.
He considered leaving the planet immediately.
Perhaps even ordering extermination.
But He could not.
Not now.
Not with the possibilities Erebus represented.
The Emperor placed the parchment down and looked toward His two sons.
Lorgar was apologizing to Magnus.
"It is merely our local style of combat," Lorgar explained carefully. "Erebus can be… enthusiastic."
Magnus's face was red with humiliation.
He still could not forgive a single insult Erebus had spoken.
"Enough," the Emperor said.
"Magnus, you will forgive him."
Magnus clenched his fists.
In truth, the Emperor Himself had already decided he would never forgive Erebus for the rest of eternity.
Even if He one day sat upon the Golden Throne…
Even if Erebus died…
He would drag the man's soul back and make him work for ten thousand years.
But discipline required appearances.
"As you command, Father," Magnus said stiffly.
"I will ensure Erebus offers you a proper apology," Lorgar promised.
Then he glanced at the time.
"My brother… Father… a feast awaits us."
It was already well past midnight.
None of them had eaten all day.
Outside the chamber, Kor Phaeron shook the sleeping Garrulek.
"Wake up."
"Dinner is ready."
Garrulek jolted awake instantly.
He rubbed his stomach, muttering quietly as he stood.
One day, he thought, the Emperor would ascend as a god.
When that happened, sacrifices could simply be offered in His name.
Then no one would have to wait for Him to sit down before eating.
Still grumbling softly, Garrulek followed the others toward the banquet hall.
Behind them, somewhere on the city wall—
Erebus remained embedded in stone.