Chapter 918 - 917: Three Wyvachs for One Magister Templi, I Made a Killing

Rain poured down in sheets as tens of thousands of Imperial soldiers gathered around Delfus.

Nine days had passed since Hastur Sejanus's death. The Primarch's Eqquery, Maloghurst, First Captain Ezekyle Abaddon, and Horus Aximand, with the support of the warrior lodges, had carried the Warmaster into the temple of the Serpent's Coil.

Thunder had rumbled over the Sons of Horus for nine days.

Auxiliaries in uniform and remembrancers kneeling in the mud were scattered about.

Abaddon, Aximand, and Torgaddon stood together at the edge of the pool before the temple's gates.

They anxiously looked towards the shrine.

The Serpent Coils atop the pillars seemed to writhe with electricity.

Then the thunder ceassed.

The lightning filling the sky vanished in an instant.

The heavens became impossibly calm, and a full moon reflected across the dark surface of the water.

A thin black line suddenly appeared across the temple gates, dividing them in two.

The doors slowly opened.

The Sons of Horus held their breath, their entire world focused on the widening gap.

Then they opened completely.

White and gold armor emerged from the darkness.

Horus Lupercal's shoulders were draped in a magnificent purple cloak. The golden sword forged by Ferrus Manus hung at his waist.

The eye on his breastplate blazed with flame. He was crowned with laurels, magnificent and awe-inspiring.

Horus strode out, his form more powerful than ever.

He smiled. "My sons, it is good to see you."

Aximand wept, "Father!"

Torgaddon raised his fist. "Wolf Lord!"

Abaddon roared, "Warmaster!"

The three surviving members of the Mournival rushed towards their father. Garviel Loken and the other Sons of Horus followed.

The news of the Warmaster's recovery spread like wildfire, reaching the expeditionary forces surrounding the temple in an instant.

Tens of thousands of voices shouted the Warmaster's and the Wolf Lord's names. The thunderous cheers lasted the entire night.

At that same moment, the nine-day storm over Tizca also came to an end.

Until now, the mechanized psychic arrays that predicted and controlled the climate of the entire planet without the slightest error had never failed since their creation.

On the sixth day of torrential rain, citizens who had never experienced such weather before stripped off their clothes and ran wildly through the Occullum Square in a frenzy.

Tizca had no law enforcement. The Prospero Spireguard had to be mobilized to send them home.

On the seventh day, several people fell ill with a deadly viral form pneumonia.

Medical spires affiliated with the Pavoni Pyramid intervened, but sixty-three perished.

On the ninth day, the black clouds pressing down on Tizca were pierced by a beam of golden light.

The light shot down, plunging into the brazier atop the central pillar of the Occullum Square. Its radiance illuminated the entire city.

Deep within the Reflecting Caves, the light returned to its source. Magnus opened his eye.

The ritual dagger embedded in his chest sprang free, its blade dissolving upon contact with the air.

The nine captains finally relaxed. Azek Ahriman silently sighed.

Only eighty-one of the thousand psychic thralls remained alive. They were aged and decaying, their crystals dull.

Ahriman asked: "Was it worth it? Did you succeed?"

Magnus's blue eye, dim, looked at him. He shook his head.

"When I tried to save my brother, someone pushed him into the abyss."

Hathor Maat asked, "Who?"

"A beast."

"Erebus," Magnus spat.

"The power attempting to ensnare Horus has clearly been preparing for this for a long time. Lorgar and the Word Bearers have already fallen and become pieces on Chaos's board."

"Chaos?" Kalophis, asked.

"Chaos is the Primordial Annihilator. It has lurked in the deepest reaches of the Great Ocean since the dawn of creation, and now it is extending its tendrils into the material world."

"Primordial Annihilator. I've never heard of it," Phosis T'Kar said.

"Neither had I, until I faced Horus and Erebus."

Hathor, with his "Spectator's" perspective, caught a flicker of something in Magnus's words.

"What do we do now? Should we warn the Emperor?" Uthizzar asked.

"Of course. We must." Magnus nodded.

"If my father knows in time, he can intervene before the situation spirals out of control."

Exhausted, he said, "Return to your cult sanctuaries. Await my summons."

"Ahriman, gather all the strength of the Corvidae Cult to divine the future. Do whatever it takes. We must know what is to come."

Hathor reluctantly returned the Book of Magnus to Magnus and left the Reflecting Cave with the other Magister Templi.

Back in the top of the Pavoni Pyramid, he induced a trance and lay down on his bed.

Within moments, he was dreaming.

In the hazy mist, the "Dreamwalker" became lucid.

This time, he had not returned to the amphitheater of Nikaea. Instead, he was walking through the Occullum Square.

He drew his force staff, staring at the edge of the grey mist.

Crackle!

The psychic crystal blazed. The Hator Maat swung his ornate staff at the dozen grey-armored warriors charging out of the mist.

Bang, bang, bang...

The Space Wolves twisted and convulsed, their oxygen-rich blood vaporizing.

Roar, roar!

Two great wolves, with a grey-armored giant, emerged from the mist.

Leman Russ.

'My Lord's prophecy has prepared me, yet I still feel fear.' Hathor examined his own dream with a "Psychologist's" perspective.

'The Thousand Sons will not vanish like that other Legion.'

'The Black Emperor protects me.'

Hathor's eyes blazed with golden light, aimed at Russ's ice-blue eyes.

"Roar!"

Russ howled in fury, "madly" turning and charging into the mist, chasing an enemy.

Hathor watched the Wolf King vanish, a smile touching his lips.

The gold in his eyes grew pure, blazing brighter.

The grey mist churned, its reach expanding by a fifth.

'I have fully mastered the power my Lord has given me.' The "Dreamwalker" thought with joy.

With the Wolves coming, his mastery of the Black Emperor's power would help him survive the coming battle and fulfill his Lord's task.

He walked to the edge of his dreamscape, to the cliff's rim, and raised his arm.

The grey mist churned, revealing a staircase.

He descended, looking at the red, one-eyed giant, and the half-sized image of the Black Emperor in the Thousand Sons' collective subconscious.

He clasped his hands in an inverted hold, praying to the Black Emperor.

With his Pavoni techniques, he turned his eyes obsidian, walking towards the black-armored, golden-winged giant.

A point of brilliant light caught his eye, a spiraling flame, its trail blazing in the sky.

"Kalophis!"

Hathor's eyes lit up. He approached with interest.

The "Dreamwalker" extended his spirituality, gently touching the flame. "What do you think of Lord Nareth?"

A spark of gold flared within the crimson flame.

The "Dreamwalker" was not surprised by the vision. Though Kalophis's mastery of the Enumeration was not as high as Ignis's, he had reached the Eighth Level. He couldn't penetrate his dreams quickly.

But he had received a revelation, remembering Kalophis's only encounter with Lord Nareth, on Ahgoru.

Kalophis had seen the fire from Nareth's golden wings, and worshipped his overwhelming power.

Hathor then wandered between the subconscious images of the Black Emperor and his gene-father, searching for Phosis T'kar.

Finally, he found a hawk with spread wings on Magnus's back.

Hathor shook his head slightly, then climbed back to his own consciousness.

He activated the "Euclidean Runes," knelt, and prayed to the Black Emperor.

In the fourth layer of the Kingdom of Disorder, Nareth sat upon his throne, having listened to Hathor's report.

'Kalophis... not the best outcome, but not a bad result.'

Among the Shadows of Order, most Librarians who inherited Nareth's perceptive talents specialized in the mental disciplines favored by the Athanaean Cult.

As for Beyonder pathways corresponding to the other four Thousand Sons Cults, the prophecy-focused Corvidae Cult had counterparts such as the Sequence 9 "Seer" of the Fool Pathway, who began mastering divination from the very beginning; the Sequence 8 "Robot" of the Wheel of Fortune Pathway; and the Sequence 7 "Astrologer" of the Door Pathway.

Flamini, Chapter Master of the Sixthth, and William Wood, Chapter Master of the Twelfth, both specialized in prophecy and possessed beyonder abilities related to divination.

The Shadows of Order were therefore not lacking in that area.

The "Rose Bishops" had begun to master flesh-magic, similar to the Pavoni Cult.

With Hathor already under his control, and Ramsey, Chapter Master of the Tenth, the Shadows of Order were not lacking in Biomancy expertise either.

The Sequence 7 "Pyromaniacs" of the Red Priest Pathway could control flames, while the Sequence 7 "Witches of the Demoness Pathway could manipulate black flames capable of burning spiritual bodies.

Sanchez, Lord of the 7th Chapter, was a master of fire, but Kalophis of the "Phoenix" school had his own expertise.

Sanchez, Chapter Master of the Seventh, was a master of fire, but Khalophis and the Pyrae Cult possessed their own unique strengths.

Nareth recalled that Kalophis, during the Burning of Prospero, had, with the aid of his Tutelary, accomplished alone what would normally require a Titan crew: piloting the Warlord Titan Canis Vertex.

However, as Nareth had already forged an alliance with the Forge World Lucius, the Legio Astorum had always fought alongside the Shadows of Order, so Kalophis had never had the chance to pilot the Canis Vertex.

What the Shadows of Order lacked most was the telekinetic mastery of the Raptora Cult.

Only Sequence 6 "Barons of Corruption" could wield similar beyonder abilities, "Force" and "Multi-Prism."

There were, naturally, fewer Sequence 6 beyonders than those of lower Sequences.

'I may still be able to snare another Magister Templi. It was worth gifting those "linked" and "corroded" Wyvachs on Ahgoru.

'Hmm... besides Hathor, there's Ahriman, Phosis's, and Kalophis. Three Wyvachs for one Magister Templi.'

'I came out ahead. Way ahead.'

"When the Wolves strike Prospero, keep an eye on Kalophis's situation."

"By Your will," Hathor bowed in acknowledgment.

....

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

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