My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 381: The Prologue Begins
[Cadia]
"By your own logic," Perturabo's calm voice rang out, cold as forged steel.
"Then gods do indeed exist in this universe, and They chose you long before that liar ever did."
He watched the struggle of his former brother—Lorgar.
Lorgar was kneeling awkwardly on one knee, a sharp dagger buried deep in his back. Pitch-black cracks, like fractures in shattered sculpture, spread outward from the wound.
Black blood spilled from Lorgar's mouth. He clung desperately to his crozius, which emitted a faint golden glow. His eyes burned with hatred—an aching desire to kill Perturabo.
More foul blood dripped down, splattering onto the yellow earth. Lorgar struggled, still trying to stand, but his pupils had already begun to lose focus.
Perturabo crouched down unhurriedly. He glanced at the crozius—of no consequence. Under the amplification of the blackstone pylon, it was nothing more than a block of ice beside a volcano.
Staring into Lorgar's violet eyes, he spoke as if to himself:
"How interesting. You should have been the first, brother."
No… Lorgar thought. No, no, no, no.
He seemed to understand at last—why Father had sent a Custodian to watch him, why the Reaper had appeared in the Perfect City…
The Perfect City was the first. It should have been him.
Lorgar vomited another mouthful of blood. Trembling, he tried to strike Perturabo with his crozius, yet deep in his heart despair screamed. Even at full strength, Lorgar knew he could not defeat Perturabo. Among all his brothers, only Lorgar had never called himself a general. He had never taken pride in his own martial prowess.
Perturabo lifted his gaze, glancing at the dagger.
A weapon designed to slay believers, who would have thought that the final Terran cathedral personally repudiated by the Emperor would, years later, become the blade that pierced His devout son?
The more decisively the Emperor had shattered religion back then, the greater the suffering Lorgar would now endure.
Perturabo could see the massive beads of sweat on Lorgar's brow, the blood-red ruptures bursting beneath his skin.
Perturabo shook his head gently.
"You never needed to suffer like this, Lorgar," he said.
"I don't wish to see this either. You still have a chance. You can choose to convert to Them of your own will—, hen you won't have to become an empty shell."
Lorgar's eyes trembled as he stared fixedly at Perturabo.
"…He…re…tic…"
His voice broke apart in blood and filth. Lorgar saw the corner of Perturabo's expressionless mouth curl into a cruel smile.
"You see, Lorgar." Perturabo said with interest.
"You claimed you believed in him because he was powerful enough, because he showed you the way and sheltered you. Now a being that fits your criteria even better has appeared, so why not submit to reality?"
Lorgar felt his consciousness slipping away. He struggled against the corruption. The crozius supporting him granted a feeble strength. In his heart, Lorgar tried to call upon the God-Emperor—
Grant me power. Let me kill the traitor!
There was no answer.
Lorgar coughed up blood once more.
"He didn't answer you, did he?" Perturabo's calm voice sounded again.
"That's why I say he's nothing but a fraud, a master of deception."
Perturabo's words blurred in Lorgar's ears. Solid ground turned into a mire. Lorgar began to sink, gradually suffocating in blasphemous, viscous filth…
No… God-Emperor… why have You abandoned Your faithful?
Lorgar's heart quivered for an instant, and he sank even faster. No—this cannot be. Lorgar forced his mind to steady itself, but at once an eerie white light flared before his eyes. Countless visions—of what had not yet happened, what was happening, what had already happened—flickered before him, as though echoing Perturabo's seductive words.
"I will reverse all the blackstone pylons around the Eye of Terror to amplification." Perturabo said, as Lorgar struggled amid the tides of the Warp.
"And then this bloated empire will be torn apart."
The Lord of Iron continued unhurriedly, "Some fortunate Legions will be exposed to the tides of the Warp. They will witness the shattering of a colossal lie—that Warp entities truly exist, and that they seem rather fond of humanity."
"After that… I can no longer calculate what will happen." Perturabo said softly.
"My brother."
Perturabo smiled. In Lorgar's violet eyes, he saw his own reflection.
"But you will know, won't you? After all, you were meant to be the beginning of everything. Look at the natives of Cadia—those rune-texts brimming with power could only be deciphered by you. Violet eyes. The same language."
Fall.
Countless voices scraped across Lorgar's soul.
He is nothing but a lie.
In a fleeting glance, Lorgar saw the immense Golden Throne, its machinery humming with cold indifference.
The Imperium would collapse.
Upon the battlefield, he saw the fall of the final blackstone pylon. The entire world inverted itself. The giant called the Imperium shattered in an instant, torn into pieces amid rolling smoke. And at the site of the final loss, he saw a familiar corpse—
The Reaper.
Lorgar froze. In that instant, the Warp-tides surrounding him dimmed for a moment, granting him one final, precious span of thought.
No. I must not die. Lorgar thought.
There was still a trace of faith-power left within his crozius, but it could not free him. Perturabo had surely prepared thoroughly—escape would require defeating Perturabo himself.
The Imperium had to be warned. The Iron Warriors had betrayed it. If they were not stopped, the Imperium would be torn apart by an unprecedented Warp storm.
Lorgar's soul let out a groan on the brink of shattering.
Then… then there was only one choice left.
Lorgar silently recited the names of the God-Emperor and the Reaper. This granted him the final control of his body. Crushing exhaustion and weakness flooded in as he fixed his gaze upon Perturabo.
"You…" Lorgar gasped. "…you do not understand believers."
No… this was as far as he could go. Lorgar's soul rapidly dimmed, curling into a corner of his shell…
He clung desperately to the memory of those two figures, trying to preserve his soul. This was a believer's final extravagance toward his gods.
Using the very last of his strength, Lorgar revealed a mocking smile. Perturabo hurriedly raised his weapon as the crozius in Lorgar's hand flared with blinding light—
Bang!
Lorgar collapsed onto the defiled ground, blood flowing out beneath him.
Nothing happened.
After a brief silence, Perturabo burst into loud laughter. A Primarch's laughter pierced through the roaring arcs of the pylon. The violet-eyed people turned their heads, silently watching the center of the altar.
The monster that Ingethel had become stepped forward slowly. She bowed elegantly, signaling for Perturabo to help arrange his brother's body into a posture suitable for possession.
So the last thing his brother did was mock him?
Perturabo could not help but laugh again. He felt even greater contempt in his heart for his brothers.
. . .
[Terra]
This had been an ordinary day. People noisily packed the crowded hive-cities, merchants calling endlessly as trade flowed without pause.
Clang—
A bell rang.
Those who reacted first looked up in confusion. As far as the eye could see, every bell was swaying.
"What's going on?!"
No one had struck those bells, the old bell towers had not been climbed in a hundred years!
Clang—
The second peal rang out, long and lingering.
People frowned, trying to find the bell-ringer—but there was no one. No one had gone near the great bells.
The crowd grew restless.
Clang—
The third peal! Chaos erupted completely. On Terra, any anomaly was a sign that something momentous was about to happen!
Clang—
The icy winds of the Himalazia tugged at the robes of the Imperial Regent. Malcador frowned as he stood upon an open balcony, the distant tolling of bells carried to him on the biting wind.
Malcador stirred slightly. When the fifth peal rang out, the old man lifted his head and began to search the star-sea.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
The old man bowed slightly, his deeply lined mouth muttering,
"My lord, something has happened."
The Emperor raised His head. Golden flames burned within His eyes, as though they pierced across the infinite star-sea.
The Emperor murmured softly, as if confirming something.
At last, a single word lingered on His lips:
"Lorgar."
The Emperor frowned in disbelief. He paused for a fraction of a second—and in the next instant, the Master of Mankind issued His commands.
"Summon Hades to the Eye of Terror at once!" the Emperor shouted.
"Tell him not to proceed to the Sixteenth Legion yet! Now—inform all Legions near the Eye of Terror to move there immediately. They are to act under Hades' unified command."
This time, their primary objective was the Eye of Terror—not a Primarch!
If the Eye of Terror were to open, half of the Imperium would be swallowed by Warp storms. Countless Legions would be dragged into a physical reality intertwined with the Warp. And now—now the Imperial Cult had not yet spread on a wide scale. If those caught in the Warp storms were to behold the truth of the Warp…
The Emperor drew in a deep breath.
What was more—such a massive concentration of psychic power, if used correctly…
"Bring Russ to me!" He said.
When the hurried footsteps of Leman Russ echoed at the far end of the corridor, the bells fell silent.
The bells of Terra had rung a total of thirteen times, and the Emperor spared not a moment to mourn their toll.
. . .
Argel Tal stared at the Primarch returning alongside Perturabo in the distance.
Something felt… wrong.
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