Chapter 44: "Slaanesh—The Coffin Is Magnificent!"
Warp Dream
Erebus opened his eyes.
And immediately wished he hadn't.
Why… why was it her?!
He lay trapped within a narrow black coffin—one he now recognized all too well. Its interior pulsed faintly with warp-light, its surface etched with blasphemous sigils that drank in psychic resonance.
Above him—
A figure.
Graceful.
Terrible.
Perfect.
Skin the color of rich amethyst. A lithe, sinuous body that shifted between masculine and feminine perfection. A long, elegant tail coiled lazily as it moved.
And at its core—
Obscene, overwhelming excess.
Shaeluna.
The Slaaneshi entity from his past.
The one he had thought he escaped.
She smiled down at him, eyes glimmering with cruel amusement.
"Oh… little priest," she purred, her voice echoing directly into his soul, "did you miss me?"
Erebus tried to move.
He couldn't.
The coffin held him fast.
Then—
She moved.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
The coffin trembled—not physically, but existentially. Reality itself seemed to ripple with each motion. The warp screamed in pleasure.
Erebus didn't feel the impact.
But he saw it.
The speed.
The distortion.
The unbearable rhythm.
"No… no, no, no—"
A pale, luminous substance—warp-essence, raw sensation given form—began to spill down into the coffin.
"Don't absorb it… don't absorb it… DON'T—"
Too late.
The coffin drank it in.
Every drop.
And fed it directly into him.
Erebus convulsed.
Power surged through his veins—corrupt, ecstatic, overwhelming.
His soul expanded.
Strengthened.
Defiled.
He could feel it—his connection to the warp deepening, thickening like a chain around his throat.
Shaeluna laughed softly.
"See? You always become better when you surrender."
Erebus screamed—
Awakening
He jolted upright.
Sweat drenched his body.
The dream lingered.
The sensation—
Still there.
He felt stronger.
And that terrified him.
Around him, the sound of thunderous snoring echoed through the chamber.
Angron.
Lorgar.
Khârn.
Angron and Lorgar were somehow half-entangled, collapsed in exhaustion, while Khârn clutched a blanket like a war trophy.
Erebus stared at them.
"…I'm alive."
He exhaled slowly.
"…Thanks to these lunatics."
The Emperor's will had descended.
His punishment was clear.
Exile.
To Olympia.
Orders of the Emperor
Erebus frowned.
Olympia?
What was he supposed to learn there?
Siegecraft?
Fortification?
Or how to survive being beaten to death by Perturabo?
He didn't understand the Emperor's reasoning.
But one thing was clear—
This time, he wouldn't be going alone.
Angron was coming with him.
"…That makes it worse," Erebus muttered.
He didn't want to go.
Not even slightly.
But the Emperor had already anticipated that.
There was no escaping this.
If Erebus stayed on Terra any longer—
The Emperor might very well decide to personally correct him.
Departure from Terra
The day came quickly.
Erebus stood aboard the embarkation platform, looking out over Terra.
He had barely spent time here—
And yet, he was being driven away.
"…Why?" he muttered.
Why send him away?
Beside him stood Angron, unusually calm.
Nearby, Ahzek Ahriman stood as the sole representative of the Thousand Sons.
Ahriman gave him a long, unreadable look.
"Try not to die," Ahriman said flatly.
Erebus snorted.
"I'll do my best."
The boarding call sounded.
The two boarded.
The ship turned—
And departed for Olympia.
Terra — After Departure
The Emperor exhaled.
Relief.
Pure, unfiltered relief.
At last—
Silence.
He turned to a Custodian commander.
"I have a task for you."
The Custodian bowed.
The Emperor conjured an image.
Erebus' face.
"You will take a workforce and carve this visage into a statue."
The Custodian hesitated.
"…My lord?"
"Yes," the Emperor said flatly. "Exactly as you see it."
The Custodian nodded.
He did not understand.
But he would obey.
The Emperor rubbed his temples.
"When the Golden Throne is repaired… you may return."
He muttered to himself:
"I need someone else to deal with that problem."
The Thousand Sons' Confusion
Inside Magnus the Red's chambers—
Ahriman burst in.
"Lord Magnus! Something is wrong—Lord Lorgar is missing!"
Silence.
A flickering projection turned toward him.
Magnus.
A hologram.
Ahriman froze.
"…Wait."
Where was the real Magnus?
"Lord Magnus…?"
Before the projection could respond—
Another voice cut in.
"Where is Lorgar?"
Kor Phaeron.
Ahriman turned slowly.
"…He left."
"Left? Left where?! The Legions are in the middle of the Great Crusade!"
Ahriman hesitated.
Then said it.
"Olympia."
The Conqueror — Warp Transit
Magnus rubbed his temple.
This was a mistake.
A terrible mistake.
Beside him, Lorgar paced, muttering scripture and half-formed theological theories.
Magnus sighed.
Why had he agreed to this?
Because—
They were brothers.
They had studied the warp together.
Summoned things they should not have.
Shared knowledge.
Shared rebellion.
And now—
He wasn't about to let Erebus be "reassigned" like a piece of equipment.
Especially not when—
"Do you realize," Magnus muttered, "that Erebus handles nearly half the administrative functions of both our Legions?"
Lorgar paused.
"…Yes."
"And the other half?"
"…Also him."
Magnus closed his eye.
"…We are doomed."
Still—
They had left a message for Ahriman.
Hopefully, he would understand.
If not—
Well.
Magnus smiled faintly.
That would be Ahriman's problem.
Angron's Flagship
Khârn watched in disbelief.
Angron—
Calm.
Composed.
Reading.
Drinking tea.
This was unnatural.
Disturbing.
Terrifying.
But worse—
Erebus was still here.
Erebus noticed Khârn staring.
"…What?"
Khârn said nothing.
But his eyes promised violence.
Erebus grimaced.
Do you think I want to be here?!
He would rather be back with Lorgar.
With Magnus.
Even with Kor Phaeron.
Anything was better than being surrounded by World Eaters.
Observation Deck — Mechanicum Analysis
Behind Erebus, a Tech-Priest Magos observed him carefully.
Magos Zerra-9.
Her mechadendrites adjusted instruments rapidly.
"…Curious."
His biometrics—
Impossible.
Exceeding even Primarch baselines in certain warp-linked metrics.
"Perhaps… the Omnissiah's blessing?"
Then—
Her sensors spiked.
Erebus' heart rate surged.
"Alert. Anomaly detected."
Warp Echo
Erebus blinked.
His vision blurred.
He saw—
A figure.
A massive World Eater in armor too small for him.
Holding a familiar crozius.
Watching him.
"…Lorgar?"
Then—
The figure was dragged away by another Astartes.
Gone.
Erebus blinked.
"…No."
That was impossible.
Lorgar was on Terra.
Not here.
Not on the Conqueror.
"…Right?"
Terra — Realization
The Emperor's expression darkened.
Reports had arrived.
Magnus.
Lorgar.
A group of Astartes.
All aboard the Conqueror.
And the ship?
Already in the Warp.
"…Lorgar."
The Emperor exhaled slowly.
"…Of course."
He considered intervention.
Then—
Dismissed it.
"They are my sons."
Let them run.
Let them make mistakes.
They would learn.
Eventually.
The Emperor's Decision
The Emperor leaned back.
"…Retirement…"
The word felt distant.
Tempting.
Perhaps—
One day—
Erebus could sit upon the Golden Throne.
The thought lingered.
Disturbing.
Amusing.
He chuckled softly.
Then—
Paused.
The black coffin.
Still connected.
Still active.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes.
"…What is that?"
A flicker.
Purple.
Something pressing against the seams of reality.
Trying to enter.
"…No."
He immediately forced a surge of psychic power into the coffin.
Sealing it.
Suppressing it.
For now.
"…I saw nothing."
He leaned back again.
"…Absolutely nothing."
End of Chapter 44
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