Chapter 205: Another Emperor??
The storm of online outrage placed immense pressure upon the Human Empire's leadership.
Horus was commanded to resolve the matter.
During the campaign against the Endless-Taraxin, the expeditionary fleet had stumbled upon an unexpected discovery. A sudden warp storm forced the fleet to alter course, translating into a star system containing nine worlds, a fortuitous twist of fate.
Nine planets orbited a yellow sun. On the third world dwelt a human regime.
That regime called itself the Human Empire. Its ruler bore the title of Emperor.
When the Sixteenth Expeditionary Fleet discovered the local civilization, the Emperor likewise became aware of their presence. The two sides swiftly established contact.
After initial exchanges, the Emperor demanded the Sixteenth Fleet pledge fealty to him.
According to his account, he was humanity's rightful lord, the Great Emperor. He had steadfastly guided his people through the suffering wrought by the warp storms' ravages, endured the cruel trials of Old Night, and consistently upheld stable rule and strict law among his subjects.
He had protected the flame of human civilization, keeping it burning throughout the long darkness. He had ensured the fragments of civilization survived intact to the present day.
The Sixteenth Fleet needs only to swear allegiance to advance humanity's great resurgence.
Such claims struck everyone in the Sixteenth Fleet as absurd.
Fleet Commander Komenus reiterated multiple times that they already served the Human Empire, one that possessed a true lord of humanity, an even greater Emperor who had already embarked upon a grand crusade, leading human civilization toward new glory.
Negotiations proceeded many times but achieved nothing.
Horus considered the matter carefully and ultimately chose not to initiate hostilities. Instead, he appointed Hastur Sejanus as a diplomat to negotiate with the locals.
Sejanus was one of Horus's most trusted sons, not as prideful and volatile as Abaddon, nor as rough-edged as Torgaddon.
He served as both warrior and envoy, possessing an impressive combat record second only to Abaddon himself. He was also handsome and well-loved, a man without apparent flaw, truly perfect in every regard.
Sejanus led the diplomatic delegation aboard a gilded vessel for the negotiations.
In the Golden Palace upon the third planet, he met the "Emperor."
The false sovereign demanded Sejanus swear fealty. When refused, murderous intent flickered in his eyes, and he commanded his invisible Custodians to attack.
Yet Sejanus had been implanted with a third-generation gene-engine, granting him an immortal body.
Despite being outnumbered, he fought his way clear. Mindful of local sentiment and determined to protect the delegation's vulnerable members, Sejanus refrained from striking the Emperor directly.
Instead, he planned to withdraw and seek the Primarch's wisdom.
The enraged Emperor, however, ordered Sejanus's transport shot down and surrounded the survivors, determined to annihilate them at any cost.
Sejanus and his warriors chose to mount a defense, protecting the mortal envoys while transmitting a distress signal.
Upon receiving the message, Abaddon's fury ignited. He immediately opened a channel and personally delivered a final warning to the "Emperor."
"False Emperor, cease your foolish actions. Our patience and benevolence have limits."
The response came in fiercer offensives and a prepared enemy fleet.
"Commander, we have no choice," Abaddon said, standing before Horus. "That impostor has gone mad."
"Then we shall enlighten them through force," Horus sighed. "Minimize the killing as much as possible. I will not have the Sixteenth Legion seen by the Empire's citizens as one that revels in slaughter and destruction."
"Understood." Abaddon nodded and departed to execute the order.
The Sixteenth Fleet, having received authorization, moved swiftly. Leveraging their second-generation warships' superiority, they suppressed the enemy fleet and deployed several companies groundside, including Loken's Tenth Company.
Loken bore a second-generation gene-engine that had undergone multiple optimizations and upgrades.
Its combat capability fell slightly short of third-generation standards but far exceeded ordinary second-generation models.
Combined with his extensive battlefield experience and the engine's enhancements, he led Tenth Company in a devastating advance, sweeping aside resistance.
After destroying a defensive platform and breaching the Imperial Palace's outer perimeter, Loken paused to assess the tactical situation.
The enemy's weapons and equipment were Golden Age relics.
He observed large formations of soldiers armed with energy weapons and clad in substantial armor. Tracked artillery vehicles, automated weapon systems, and gun platforms mounted on hydraulic legs advanced methodically across the battlefield.
Such forces would be considered formidable on a galactic scale. Many xenos and human regimes lacked comparable military strength.
Unfortunately for them, they faced Astartes, demigods made manifest.
Defeat was inevitable.
Loken withdrew his gaze from the battlefield and studied the majestic Imperial Palace, then checked the positions of the other companies.
"Loken to commander," he opened the channel. "Tenth Company has breached and reached the designated coordinates."
After a brief pause, Horus's voice resonated through the vox.
"You have performed admirably, Loken. Enter the palace. Should you be first to reach that False Emperor, perhaps I should consider petitioning Terra to have you implanted with a third-generation gene-engine."
"Understood, Commander," Loken replied.
As Horus's transmission ended, Abaddon's voice crackled across the channel.
"Loken, Loken—are you so eager to humiliate me?"
"Not at all," Loken quickly responded.
The Legion maintained a strict hierarchy. Even as a senior officer, Loken owed proper respect to the Mournival.
"I'm merely jesting with you, Loken!" Abaddon's tone carried unmistakable amusement. "Haha! You'd better accelerate, or I might claim that reward myself."
Loken couldn't suppress a smile.
Abaddon was notoriously short-tempered, and few could share levity with him. Clearly, Loken's performance in this assault had impressed the Primarch and earned him favor with Abaddon and the others.
If he secured the honor of a third-generation engine implantation, it would vastly benefit his future. The second-generation engine had already elevated him to near-demigod status, the third generation would grant far more.
Energized by the prospect, Loken accelerated Tenth Company's advance.
After breaching several palace gates, his warriors became entangled with the False Emperor's guard while he alone penetrated the throne room.
An elderly man in purple robes stood by the window, gazing upon the majestic and prosperous palace now consumed by flames, grief written across his features.
When Loken entered, the old man turned to face him.
"Why? Why unleash destruction upon this world? You are human, the same as us."
"We attempted peaceful resolution," Loken said, securing his weapon. "But you refused and attempted to murder our envoy. Why question us now?"
"Because you speak only lies!" the old man shouted. "You are merely grotesque monsters intent on destroying civilization, while the Emperor we serve is humanity's savior and protector!"
"We have reunified human civilization," Loken replied calmly. "The glory of the Human Empire spreads across the entire galaxy and beyond. We are simply soldiers serving another Emperor, nothing more. And what has your Emperor accomplished?"
"What purpose does argument serve now? The war is over. You have lost. Surrender and spare needless bloodshed."
Defeat shadowed the old man's face. "Are you the supreme commander?"
"I am not. I command Tenth Company," Loken explained.
"I cannot surrender to you. I demand to see your supreme commander. I will surrender only to him."
The old man's words drew a frown from Loken. His gaze instinctively shifted to the Golden Throne dominating the chamber, and an engine prompt materialized in his vision.
[Detecting spatial anomaly. Analyze?]
"You are not the Emperor. Where is he?"
Loken advanced toward the Golden Throne.
Anxiety flashed across the old man's features as he rushed forward, attempting to intercept Loken.
"Stand back! You cannot approach the Throne!"
At that moment, a thunderous impact resonated through the chamber.
The throne room's dome shattered, debris cascading downward. Several figures plummeted from above like meteors, cratering the floor with terrifying force as dust billowed outward.
Abaddon emerged from the smoke and debris, unleashing a deafening roar.
"Slay the False Emperor! Unify the galaxy!"
"No! You must retreat!"
The old man screamed, surging forward with desperate speed.
A thunderous impact.
His chest collapsed inward, blood and charred silk and shattered flesh spraying outward. He swayed, his tattered purple robes catching fire as his broken body collapsed onto the gleaming floor. Crimson blood spread rapidly across the polished surface.
Sorrow crossed Loken's features.
It need not have come to this.
"Has the False Emperor been executed?" Abaddon demanded.
"No! That wasn't the Emperor," Loken shook his head, striding rapidly toward the Throne.
The almost-perfect, indistinct silhouette upon the Throne retreated frantically. The seemingly flawless illusion betrayed itself through subtly distorted shadows surrounding it.
That "Emperor" had concealed himself within a pocket dimension, intending to use himself as bait, hoping to trap the Primarch himself.
The Throne trembled, erupting with a powerful shockwave that burst forth like a storm, hurling the Astartes warriors across the chamber before slamming them heavily to the floor.
BOOM!
An earth-shaking detonation.
Loken and Abaddon raised their weapons and fired upon the Throne. The anti-matter rounds struck the storm's epicenter, triggering an explosion that consumed everything in annihilation.
The terrible energy storm gradually dissipated, scattering debris across the floor. The once-noble Throne was reduced to smoking wreckage, its hidden arcane mechanisms utterly destroyed.
A charred corpse sat amid twisted metal and shattered components, its skeletal arm still clutching the armrest of the ruined Throne.
[End of Chapter]
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