"Why did you let that traitor leave?! And hand over technology that critical to him!"
Curze had been standing outside the door throughout and had heard the entire exchange.
As far as he was concerned, he'd rather fight 'Robert' to mutual destruction than make any kind of compromise with them.
"Work on that temper. Don't pull something like this again."
"Lucky I got there when I did, otherwise there'd have been no saving you."
Perturabo didn't answer Curze's question. His mood was foul.
"How are Saul and the others?"
"They took the Webway back to Terra. Why did you go out exploring alone, Legion Master? Your sons had to come rescue you personally."
"I told them all to run ahead of me — I could have gotten out on my own. How was I supposed to know they'd come back for me? And I had no idea 'Vulkan' was that formidable. I killed him twenty times. Twenty!"
"If you'd been a normal person about it and paid a little more attention to them, it wouldn't have come to this. Making your sons come rescue you one after another — and you call yourself a Legion Master. Don't you have any shame?"
It was rare for Curze to back down in an argument like this.
"So what do we do now? Is there really no way to counter him?"
This 'Robert' was genuinely powerful. Curze had thought the Emperor and Perturabo were formidable enough — and now here was someone even more terrifying. How were they supposed to fight this?
"Who does he think he is? Does he actually believe absorbing half the essence of Chaos and half the Emperor's power makes him invincible?"
"You actually have a way to deal with him?"
"The risk is enormous. If I actually did it, I wouldn't come out of it in good shape either."
"Then why didn't you do it just now? Is the current situation not dangerous enough? You clearly could have handled them!"
Curze was agitated. He had zero tolerance for evil and absolutely no patience for halfway measures.
"And then what?"
"You'd die and I'd die. Isn't trading two lives for all of them a winning deal?"
"I would only become a new danger. And so would you — a greater danger than any of them."
"So what's the point of saying any of this? We can't do anything about him either way."
Curze didn't know what to say. Watching these traitors walk free was more painful to him than being killed.
"What if we just hit them directly? If we move fast enough, they won't have time to react. And then going to the Eye of Terror afterward would still be fine."
"Too late. By now they've probably already completed their objectives and are preparing a coordinated assault. Whatever's waiting for us out there is a full ambush. Going now would accomplish nothing."
"So what do we do? Just sit here and passively wait for them to attack us? There's nothing we can do?"
Curze sat down on a nearby iron block, utterly despondent.
"We're completely on the back foot, with no idea where the enemy is, no Logis Engine communication, not even reliable astropathic transmission anymore. The Astronomican is about to go dark."
"You and Father can't beat them right now. Even the Legions might get torn apart. So what are we supposed to do?"
Perturabo looked at Curze. This brother's will, in these negative circumstances, was genuinely weak.
No other brother would come in and say something this defeatist. Not a single one.
"What are you panicking for? We still have you lot, don't we?"
"We can't win against them either. How are we supposed to fight?"
"Who said you can't win? Do you think they're really that powerful? If I weren't thinking about so many other things, I would have taken him down just now."
"But you said—"
"If I did that, the Imperium would likely fall into a danger greater than any these people represent. So what's the difference between killing them and not killing them?"
"Whether the Imperium is destroyed by them or by me — does that make a difference?"
"So what was any of that talk worth then? We're still helpless."
Curze was at a loss. Making him watch traitors live was worse than killing him.
"Why don't we hit them ourselves? As long as we're fast enough—"
"That's already done. Now they're probably all already converging on their targets. What's waiting for us is a net spread in every direction. Going now is useless."
"Then what do we do? Are we just going to sit here being passive, taking their attacks, doing nothing?"
Curze slumped onto the iron block, drained of energy.
Perturabo looked at him. This defeatist brother had genuinely questionable willpower.
"What's the rush? Aren't you lot still here?"
"You can't beat them. We can't beat them. How do we fight?"
"Who said you can't beat them? Do they think they're that powerful? If I weren't holding back for other reasons, I would have just ended it right there."
"But you said..."
"Exactly because if I did that, the Imperium would end up in far greater danger. So what difference does it make, whether I kill them or not? Either way, the Imperium gets destroyed — does it matter who pulls the trigger?"
Curze went quiet.
"So what do we do? We can't touch him, and we can't do anything."
Perturabo looked at him for a long moment.
"I was being too conservative before. I have such a powerful Legion in my hands, I've given the Astartes this many surgical upgrades — our forces are this strong — and I'm still sitting here playing defence like an idiot."
"Now I've worked it out. If these bastards were really this formidable, would they need to pull all these schemes and conspiracies?"
"So?"
"Defend my ass — we're going on the offensive!"
"I don't believe they can survive a few shots from the star fortress's electromagnetic nova cannons. I don't believe they can shrug off lance fire and plasma macrocannons from multiple warships."
"And on the ground, do they honestly think they can beat our Legions and Abominable Intelligence cohorts?"
"Rather than sit here passively taking whatever they throw at us, let's hit out in all four directions and deal with every single one of them!"
"I'm going to blow this wide open. Since nobody wants to be civilised about this, I have nothing left to hold back. If we all go down — we all go down together!"
Perturabo's eyes were filled with barely-contained violence. Once he went to the Eye of Terror and smashed those wretched Gods to pieces, he'd come back and kill every last one of these traitors.
Dark King, is it? When I twist your head off, let's see how you—
If something goes wrong, deal with it when it goes wrong.
"Curze — go back through the Webway. Tell every assembled Primarch that except for Dorn who holds the defences, everyone else advances. Take every Legion and every fleet. No orders needed when you see a traitor — just open fire."
"What about you? Going to the Eye of Terror right now?"
"I'm leaving this to all of you. Main thing is — listen. Whoever has the best tactical sense, follow them. If Ferrus is still standing, follow Ferrus. If not, follow Horus. If neither of them are available, follow Leman. If Leman's gone too, then Dorn. And if none of them remain — use your own judgement."
"Just one thing — don't listen to the Emperor. Understood?"
"Don't get overexcited and throw the Legions away for nothing. With the forces I've given you, as long as you don't do anything reckless, holding even ground or even winning decisively is entirely feasible. I just need you not to be reckless."
"Whatever happens, hold the line first. If you can't, let the Emperor step out and hold it. Endure until I get back from the Eye of Terror — and we win this."
"When I get back I'll assess whether the situation requires what I'm thinking. And if everything really does fall apart — we all fall apart together. All you need to do is advance steadily and carefully. Don't get overexcited. Don't get overexcited. Are you hearing me?"
Perturabo looked at the furious Curze and placed a hand on his shoulder. He thought sometimes this group of overgrown-child brothers was genuinely dangerous. No wonder 'Robert' had such contempt for his version of them.
"Now go. My Legion should have already pulled back to Terra. Tell Dantioch and the others — don't get overexcited."
"Can you manage that?"
Perturabo looked Curze in the eyes. He genuinely didn't want any of these younger brothers to come to harm.
"Yes."
Curze couldn't hold Perturabo's gaze, because he knew perfectly well he was exactly the kind of person who couldn't keep himself steady.
Perturabo had never expected much from these brothers in a critical moment, but his only requirement was that they hold the situation stable. As long as they could hold it, he'd come back and clean up the mess.
"Can I trust you all with this?"
Please, have some confidence in yourselves. Settle down for once.
"Yes."
Curze's face carried a trace of hesitation.
They were finished.
Perturabo could practically already see what state the Imperium would be in when he returned from dealing with the Eye of Terror.
Well. As long as people were alive, he could still turn the tide. He could only hope they managed not to do anything catastrophic, and held on until he got back.
"Go. Remember to pass on what I've said."
Watching Curze disappear into the Webway entrance, Perturabo felt an inexplicable hollow unease he couldn't shake.
"Are you really going alone, Abo?"
His sister asked from beside him.
"Yes. I have to."
"Why not find someone—"
"Can't. They put everything into this one. Winning won't be easy, but we will win. A bunch of dregs — when I get back I'll reduce them to mincemeat."
"How long before you're back?"
"Uncertain."
Perturabo shook his head.
"They're weakened. But taking on all four of them alone isn't easy. There will be a prolonged standoff."
"Sister — I'm leaving Olympia in your hands. Remember — be careful of those traitors. Especially 'Robert.' He absolutely has other plans. Until I'm back, don't do anything."
"If Olympia falls into crisis and you think there's no saving it, take whoever's left through the Webway. Go to Terra. And if Terra isn't safe either — do you remember that safe location I mentioned?"
"Yes."
"Go there. I've placed three Ark-Worlds there — enough to save a great many people. Promise me — no impulsive decisions."
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
"When are you going to make your move?"
'The Lion' looked at 'Dorn.'
'Dorn' was enormously built. His yellow-and-black armour bore not a trace of mutation — immaculate and clean.
In his right hand he carried a massive banner. The emblem of the Imperial Fists moved without wind.
"Robert will certainly betray us. He never trusted us."
'Dorn' said.
"That's not your concern. Even if he betrays us, if you and I strike together, he can't win."
"What about with Perturabo added?"
"How could they possibly cooperate?"
"You still underestimate Robert. If it weren't for him back then, you probably wouldn't have walked out of Terra alive. And that's the version of Robert from our reality — not this one."
"What do you mean?"
'The Lion' was never the patient type.
"Our plan has almost certainly been compromised."
"So what? The Astronomican going dark is already inevitable. Their communications can't be restored. Even without the Four Gods tearing open the Eye of Terror, we can push our assault all the way to Terra."
"We'll fight and conscript as we go. We'll grind them down."
'Dorn' looked at this brother — enormous magnetism and nerve, tactical and strategic ability at their peak — and thought that if the Lion could do something about that temper, their old competition for Warmaster would have been genuinely difficult to win. But the Leman Russ from their reality was nothing close to what stood before him now.
"The timing isn't right yet. We need to wait a little longer."
"What are you waiting for? Those fool Legions are degenerating further by the day. At this rate they won't even be worth using as cannon fodder."
'The Lion' thought of those brothers — barely distinguishable from addicts at this point — and felt a wave of revulsion.
He genuinely couldn't fathom how this version of them had become this way. The contrast with the unbending, formidable brothers he remembered was almost incomprehensible.
"Robert has definitely betrayed us. Otherwise Perturabo would have come for us during the hunt. Vulkan is gone. The Angel is an idiot who'll take time to recover even if he does come back, and his Legion is mostly destroyed."
"What we can actually rely on is just you and my Legions — plus Mortarion and Kovossk. And don't forget — the Imperial side has Perturabo's Abominable Intelligence cohorts, and the Astartes surgical augmentations there are considerably stronger than ours."
"So what do you propose?"
"Perturabo has certainly already gone to the Eye of Terror. Once we hear word from that front, we move. Extinguish the Astronomican and begin."
"But the Ultramarines will definitely come to interfere. We need to plan for that."
Both 'Dorn' and 'the Lion' thought of the seemingly inexhaustible Ultramarines, and found themselves with a headache. Worse still, this traitor had already reclaimed all five hundred worlds of Ultramar.
If he chose to intervene, the situation would become considerably more unpredictable. Nobody liked surprises — especially not people with no margin for error.
"What do you want to do?"
'The Lion' asked.
"Those cannon fodder can't only ever be cannon fodder."
"Them? You're actually thinking about using them to guard against Robert? If he moves on them seriously, not even their masters could save them."
"Just a precaution. Warning and buying time — that much they can manage. We just need enough time to take the Emperor and the Imperium before the window closes."
"Let the father's boy and the madman go probe the Emperor's current state first. We observe from behind. Since free cannon fodder is available, no reason not to use it."
"The Luna Wolves for the Imperium — and for Robert, what's the plan?"
"Fulgrim and Mortarion are still around, aren't they? They've been resentful of Robert for a long time. I doubt they'd refuse this assignment."
"That's all well and good, but they may not listen to us. And even if they do, they probably won't accomplish much."
"Which is why we need to be fast. We need to end this war before Perturabo gets back, before Robert and the Emperor can react."
"The Sol System isn't going to fall easily. Even at full strength it might take us twenty years. How do we do this fast? What else are you planning?"
"Five years. Five years is enough."
"Even with our Legions at full strength, that's not achievable."
"It is. We don't need to take the entire Sol System. One breakthrough corridor is sufficient."
"You're insane. We'd be fighting in an encirclement."
"As long as we move fast enough, encirclement isn't a threat. Don't forget — they have no way to coordinate anymore. Five years is enough to finish this war."
'The Lion' fell silent, thinking through the feasibility of this plan.
"One wrong step and we—"
"Has the Chaos Warmaster become hesitant? The Lion I knew wasn't like this."
"I have no intention of bleeding my Legion dry here."
"We can't afford to wait. The moment Perturabo has his hands free, holding back to preserve your strength won't be as simple as you'd like."
'Dorn's' tone was calm. But 'the Lion' could easily sense the madness beneath it.
"Let Horus and Angron lead the charge. Don't let Russ and Magnus come into contact — if they do, there'll be infighting again."
'The Lion' said.
"Ferrus and Sanguinius can go on a roving hunt. Their Legions aren't going to be much use to us in the main offensive anyway."
"Curze and his people can ambush the reinforcements. The main strike force will be our two Legions and the Luna Wolves. Kovossk and Mortarion take the Khan and push out front. Draw the bulk of the other Legions' strength and use them as cannon fodder."
The two of them settled on the battle plan and the arrangement of their brothers' sons as expendable assets. Now they simply waited for word from the Eye of Terror. The moment it came, the Astronomican would be extinguished — and the Imperium would be rendered completely blind.
"So Perturabo has already gone to intercept Chaos?"
The Emperor, Malcador, and the assembled Primarchs had all pulled back to Terra's defence.
"Yes. We need to go on the offensive now. Whatever the traitors are planning, there's no reason for us to keep absorbing their attacks passively."
"Ferrus — the Warmaster said in person that when he's not here, you're first in command. So — where do you think we should strike first?"
Curze looked at Ferrus, who was already studying the star charts in search of the traitors' positions.
"If the traitors have already completed their preparations and the Eye of Terror has been torn open, the points they can attack from are only these."
"And they'll almost certainly concentrate force on one primary objective, using several Legions as decoys to make us split our strength. So we split ours as well."
"Split our forces again?"
"Yes. If we can eliminate more traitors this way, why wouldn't we? Our Abominable Intelligence cohorts and fleet strength aren't lacking."
"But the Warmaster also said not to be overconfident—"
Vulkan tried to counsel moderation, but Ferrus had complete confidence in Perturabo and in the current Imperium.
"Even if they all come at us at once — as long as they're willing to face us in a proper engagement, I'll show them what true despair looks like."
Watching Ferrus's absolute confidence, even the Emperor almost said something — but then thought of Perturabo's "advice" regarding the Primarchs, and decided that whatever he said, once they marched out, they'd do whatever they were going to do anyway.
Well. The chick had grown too old for the nest. And psychic charisma only worked so long before it wore off.
"Father."
Cassius was currently stationed at the Eye of Terror, leading half the strength of the Fourth Chapter, keeping the entire region firmly in hand. He'd even excavated some of what had once been the Eldar's death worlds, and had located several of the Blackstone Fortresses Perturabo had long desired.
Unfortunately, there was no time to study them properly right now. And they'd also found numerous Necron World Engines — he could only blame this group of traitors, because otherwise he'd be sitting comfortably at home studying all this advanced technology.
"Any anomalies recently?"
"Nothing. Warp contamination remains somewhat elevated, but compared to when we first arrived, it is declining."
"The great rift — monitoring shows the diameter has contracted by four centimetres."
Had 'Robert' lied to him? Was Chaos not planning to strike through the Eye of Terror, but through the Maelstrom instead?
But the Maelstrom had been sealed. Where would they find the strength to tear open a rift that large?
No — it had to be the Eye of Terror.
Perturabo couldn't think of anywhere more suitable for breaching the defences of realspace.
"Cassius — hold this position with the Chapter. Don't get too close to the rift. Pull your strength back — just monitor the perimeter. Leave everything else to me."
"Has something happened, Father?"
"Yes. Chaos has turned some of the Primarchs from other realities and pulled them here. The Imperium is in serious danger right now. Logis Engine communication has been severed. The Astronomican may very likely go dark. And Chaos intends to tear through here to make their attack run more smoothly."
"But we're not without teeth. I've already sent Curze back to Terra to get everyone moving. The galaxy is about to be at war again. And I've prepared multiple redundancies for the Astronomican."
"You don't need to worry about anything else. Just remember — holding the Eye of Terror is your responsibility. Wait for me to return. I'll deal with the traitors."
"Yes, Father."
Cassius had no fear for the Imperium's current situation. If Father said it, then however powerful those traitors were — Father would handle them.
The Iron Warriors' blind and almost unhinged trust and reverence for Perturabo had reached extraordinary levels.
But then, suddenly, Perturabo's expression shifted. He turned toward the great rift. The heavy Chaos contamination had begun spreading in a way that could no longer be suppressed.
"Get everyone out immediately. They're coming."
Perturabo spoke, and his form vanished from where he stood.
At the deepest point of the Eye of Terror, Perturabo appeared. The Daemonic Forge had already sealed the rift tight.
Looking at the four wretched entities — weakened to the point of exhaustion yet still attempting to project power — Perturabo felt the frustration and rage that had been building for days finally overwhelm him completely.
"You miserable wretches — your day has finally come!"
Perturabo transformed instantly into a colossal machine, lethal weapons covering every surface, black flames and black smoke pouring from him.
Plasma macrocannons and electromagnetic nova cannons fired without pause, their indiscriminate saturation fire swallowing the daemon legions of all four Gods in an instant.
"Let's see you make a sound now. Go ahead — try!"
Perturabo's heavy boltgun was jammed under Khorne's throat, pouring bolt rounds into him continuously in an endless stream.
The Blood God's crimson body was filled with the yellow light of detonating bolts. Countless skulls and rivers of blood cascaded from his form.
Khorne wanted to roar — but Perturabo had locked both hands on his horns, driving a knee into his chest and pinning him in place.
Already weakened, Khorne had absolutely no resistance left against an enraged Perturabo.
The Four Gods had expected at minimum a close contest. But the Lord of Iron was stronger than they had anticipated.
He had been evolving at a furious pace during this time. He had even touched domains that should never have been within his reach.
They could sense it. The Lord of Iron carried the signatures of more than one "brother."
Perturabo wrenched Khorne off him like a dead dog, drove both hands into the Brass Throne, tore it from its moorings with a single eruption of force, and brought it crashing down onto Khorne's immobilised form.
The mechanical arms behind him caught an incoming sword strike. Perturabo's thunder hammer drove into Slaanesh's body.
Moving at a fraction of previous speed, Slaanesh had no way to block or evade. Feeling a massive chunk of essence simply vanish from their being, the Prince of Chaos began to panic.
But Perturabo was already on top of them, the colossal hammer pinning them beneath him.
"Your turn next, you bastard!"