Chapter 417: Prospero — Extermination Order! A Ruthless Break!
After understanding the full scope of the situation, the Emperor paused for a moment, clearly stunned by the information Paul had just delivered.
But soon, he issued a formal order to Malcador: "Send Guilliman to Prospero immediately. Investigate the Thousand Sons' mutation incident."
"If the reports are confirmed—exterminate every living thing on that planet. Wipe out the evil completely. Leave no room for future threats."
Prospero was the primary base of the Thousand Sons and served as Magnus' personal domain. His Legion usually trained and stood ready on that very world.
While the Emperor remained only partially convinced by Paul's report, he still decided to send his most intelligent and capable son—Roboute Guilliman—for a thorough investigation.
However, to guard against the worst-case scenario, he opted to dispatch an additional Primarch, ensuring no one slipped through the net.
"Also, send Leman Russ along with his Space Wolves Legion, and draw a squad of Sisters of Silence from the palace to support the mission."
"If Magnus is truly guilty—Prospero must be purged down to the last."
Leman Russ, Primarch of the Space Wolves, commanded warriors whose ferocity rivaled even Horus' Lunar Wolves.
Fierce, savage, and ruthless—those were the best words to describe the Space Wolves.
Among the many Legions of the Imperium, the Space Wolves easily ranked among the top three in sheer combat prowess.
The Emperor's decision to deploy both the Space Wolves and the Ultramarines in this operation demonstrated his decisiveness and unwavering resolve.
"Yes, my lord."
Malcador wasn't surprised by the Emperor's verdict.
The Emperor had already shown remarkable patience and compassion toward these flawed yet powerful Primarchs.
During the more than two-hundred-year-long Great Crusade, many of the Primarchs had committed grave, disastrous errors. Yet the Emperor had forgiven them time and again, still offering them support.
Malcador knew full well: the Emperor had gone to great lengths to guide, correct, and redeem his sons. He had given them opportunities—time and again—to repent.
As long as they didn't cross certain lines, even if a Primarch slaughtered humans or sought to carve out his own kingdom, the Emperor would only issue a warning. He had countless ways to punish his sons without outright destruction.
But when it came to the Warp's Chaos Gods, daemons, or any form of collusion with them—that was something the Emperor could never tolerate.
"Magnus... don't say the Emperor never gave you a chance. Everything that's happening now—you brought this on yourself."
Malcador sighed inwardly.
The Emperor's love for the Primarchs was real, but his love wasn't limited to them. It extended to the entire human species.
If these unruly sons of his endangered humanity as a whole, then—even if they were his own flesh and blood—the Emperor would strike them down without hesitation.
At this point, Magnus stood only one step from death.
Meanwhile, the Emperor struggled to maintain control over his emotions as his mind raced, rapidly calculating all future possibilities.
Without the star-faring technology offered by the Universal Megacorp, the Webway Project would be reduced to a mere backup option for interstellar travel.
He wasn't willing to risk the Webway shattering, allowing the Warp and its daemons to pour into Terra's palace.
"Magnus, you've truly disappointed me."
The Emperor closed his eyes and shook his head.
He had long warned Magnus not to delve too deeply into the study of the Warp and psychic powers. But the wayward son had only pretended to listen while disregarding everything he said.
Now, he'd been completely manipulated by Tzeentch—even his Thousand Sons had paid the price.
Had Magnus admitted from the start that the Thousand Sons had fallen victim to Tzeentch's flesh-warping curse, the Emperor might've had a chance to salvage the situation.
He might not have saved everyone, but he could've preserved the majority of the Legion instead of letting them all be swept away.
Unfortunately, Magnus had vanished, and the Thousand Sons were now suffering from grotesque physical mutations. From top to bottom, the entire Legion seemed too far gone to redeem.
And knowing Tzeentch's methods, the Emperor suspected Magnus was already lost.
"Send Mortarion and Lion El'Jonson as well," the Emperor added after a moment's thought.
Mortarion, commander of the Death Guard's 14th Legion, specialized in defensive counterattacks. If the battle escalated, he could hold the line until reinforcements arrived.
Lion El'Jonson, Primarch of the Dark Angels, was known for his calm and composed nature. Among the Primarchs, his loyalty to the Emperor ran deeper than most.
When Tzeentch tempted the Primarchs and Horus rebelled, the Lion was one of the few who remained steadfast. The Emperor trusted him immensely.
"Mortarion and the Lion are to keep an eye on Magnus and the Warp's dark powers. If Magnus appears—they are to capture him immediately."
"Do not let him escape."
The Emperor was already anticipating Tzeentch's next move.
During the Exterminatus assault led by Guilliman on Prospero, Tzeentch would likely let Magnus reappear—forcing him to witness his home world's annihilation and the death of his Legion.
That kind of psychological devastation would be the perfect bait to push Magnus fully into Chaos' embrace.
It was a classic, time-tested trick—one the Emperor expected.
But rather than try to outmaneuver it, the Emperor planned to go along with it, using Tzeentch's own strategy against him. He would destroy Prospero and the Thousand Sons in one strike.
Cruel as it was, this was the only way to draw Magnus out quickly.
Through psychic foresight, the Emperor had seen a murky glimpse of the future.
If left unchecked, Magnus would fall utterly into corruption and become nothing more than a pawn of the Chaos Gods.
Guilliman might be brilliant at governance, but his psychic talents were negligible.
If Magnus appeared, neither Guilliman nor Russ would be able to stop him alone.
That's why two more allies had to be assigned.
Mortarion, with his proven anti-psyker combat skills, was a perfect choice. Due to his own traumatic upbringing, he despised psykers with a visceral hatred—none more so than Magnus.
In Mortarion's view, all psykers deserved one fate: tied to a stake and burned alive.
Sending him to capture Magnus wasn't just about strategy—it was also about giving Mortarion a chance to vent his long-held fury.
Meanwhile, the calm, methodical Lion would be nearby to make sure Mortarion didn't go too far and accidentally kill Magnus.
"The Megacorp's technology can suppress the Warp. Borrow one of their battleships—we must bring Magnus back at once."
The Emperor had already taken notice of the anti-Warp field emitters aboard the Megacorp's vessels. Aside from their warp-jumping systems, this was the technology he desired most.
The mechanism behind the anti-Warp dimension functioned much like blowing a bubble underwater. By expanding a bulge within the Warp, a stable, self-contained pocket dimension was rapidly constructed inside it.
This newly-formed subspace was like a resilient little bubble—repelling the surrounding Warp and isolating itself completely. It had no direct contact with the chaotic sea around it.
Ultimately, Magnus the Red—being a psyker Primarch—still relied on the Warp's response to wield his power for offense, defense, and more.
But once the anti-Warp device "blew a bubble" around him, no matter how powerful he was, he'd be like the Monkey King trapped under the Buddha's palm—completely powerless to escape.
All Mortarion and the Lion needed to do was move in and apprehend him. Even if Tzeentch tried to intervene, it would be utterly useless.
As long as the Warp was isolated, Magnus would lose all contact with Tzeentch. Even if Tzeentch tried to snatch him away, it would already be too late.
Malcador gave a firm nod of approval.
He had to admit—the Emperor had considered every angle meticulously. From the personnel chosen to the contingency plans, nothing was left to chance.
Still, knowing the Universal Megacorp's business practices, borrowing their warships wouldn't come cheap. The Imperium would almost certainly have to pay a steep price.
"I'll make the arrangements as soon as possible," Malcador affirmed.
Unless absolutely necessary, the Emperor was clearly unwilling to give up on Magnus.
After all, Magnus was a rare psyker Primarch, with an exceptional psychic talent. If used properly, this piece on the board could still bring immense benefit to the Imperium.
"If we succeed in capturing him, lock him in Terra's deepest dungeons and keep him under strict surveillance. He must never be allowed to touch the Warp again," the Emperor snapped coldly.
Malcador remained silent. For Magnus, this was already the best possible outcome—better than being killed by his fellow Primarchs.
At such a critical juncture, it was best to have Magnus lie low in the dungeons for now. Once the Imperium completed its new navigation system, then perhaps… they could reconsider his future.
"Yes, I'll see to it immediately."
With the Emperor's orders in hand, Malcador hurried out of the palace. As the Chancellor of the Imperium, he was already well-versed in the administrative machinery of the empire.
He knew exactly which protocols to trigger to mobilize the other Primarchs quickly and coordinate troop deployments.
Before long, he drafted four dispatch orders in the Emperor's name—assigning Guilliman, Russ, the Lion, and Mortarion to each lead their respective Legions to Prospero at once.
If the Thousand Sons were confirmed to be suffering from severe Warp-induced mutation, they were to initiate an immediate Exterminatus of the planet—and capture Magnus if he appeared.
Next, Malcador reached out to Paul to explain the situation and make a formal request.
In order to appeal to Paul's sympathy—and hopefully reduce the cost of borrowing Megacorp warships—Malcador deliberately emphasized the weight of the Exterminatus Order.
The Emperor was sacrificing his own son for the sake of humanity—cutting off a diseased limb to save the body. Surely a sovereign with such righteous conviction deserved the Megacorp's support.
"Exterminatus…"
Paul fell into deep thought.
Given the Emperor's decisiveness and resolve, the Thousand Sons on Prospero likely wouldn't escape this purge. What truly shocked him, however, was the sheer speed of the Emperor's response.
It hadn't even been two hours.
And yet, the Emperor had already analyzed the intel, arranged personnel deployments, and issued detailed orders.
Such razor-sharp administrative precision—Paul had only seen it before in his own Supreme Leader, Li Ang.
"Lord Paul, the Exterminatus Order is the Imperium's highest-level warfare directive. This operation is not to be taken lightly."
Malcador spoke with grave seriousness.
Though the Imperium was cautious in issuing Exterminatus Orders, in practice, they were often used.
The galaxy was overrun with xenos species and human traitors. Without ruthless crackdowns, the strategic deterrence of Exterminatus would lose its effect.
Whenever a situation crossed the Emperor's red line, even the mass slaughter of innocents would not stop him from pressing the button.
In most disasters, before they spiraled out of control, sacrificing the few to protect the many had always proven effective.
This lesson had been affirmed countless times throughout human history.
"You're not worried this could spark resentment from the other Primarchs?" Paul asked, unable to hold back.
On the surface, the Imperium's political system was highly centralized around the Emperor—but in truth, power often fragmented.
Each Primarch held military command and governed their own home world fiefdoms. In many ways, their roles resembled that of Imperial warlords.
Only because the Emperor was immortal and unmatched could he keep these powerful vassals in line.
Had it been anyone else, the Imperium's political system would've been torn apart long ago by the Primarchs.
One of the Empire's deepest internal tensions had always been the friction between the Emperor and the Primarchs.
Many of them didn't truly obey the Emperor's word.
Besides the self-destructive Magnus, there was Horus—deeply dissatisfied with the way power was distributed in the Imperium.
Horus' hostility toward Malcador stemmed largely from the High Lords Council of Terra—the Imperium's supreme ruling body—containing no Primarchs whatsoever.
It was filled entirely with administrators and mortal humans chosen by the Emperor and Malcador.
As it had always been—civil officials ruled over military generals.
The Primarchs might appear to bask in glory on the battlefield, earning Infinity praise and prestige, but in truth, they were never given access to the Imperium's true power core.
They could only enjoy themselves on their own little planets.
That's why Horus grew resentful. He longed to be the first Primarch to break into the core of Imperial power.
Li Ang had already analyzed this political undercurrent long ago, which is why Paul was now so familiar with the Imperium's political ecology.
He knew that once Prospero was purged, the other Primarchs were bound to feel nervous.
None of them were spotless behind closed doors. And who was to say the Emperor wouldn't turn on them next—dragging out old crimes and punishing them too?
"This whole mess is Magnus' fault. If he hadn't dabbled with Tzeentch and allowed the Thousand Sons to become corrupted, the Emperor would never have issued Exterminatus against his own son's home world."
Malcador sighed in frustration. He fully understood the massive political shockwaves this move could cause—and knew full well the other Primarchs might grow uneasy or even rebellious.
But there was no alternative.
No matter how difficult the decision, Prospero had to be washed in blood. No one could be spared.
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