Chapter 919 - 918: I Once Took Pride in Having Seen What Nareth Failed To See; Now I Have Destroyed My Father's Dream

After meditating for two days and two nights to restore himself, Magnus once again summoned the captains of the nine Fellowships.

Ahzek Ahriman's gaze swept over the nine hundred psychic thralls in the Reflecting Cave, the entirety of the Thousand Sons' stock. Each held a glowing psychic crystal, pouring their life force into it without reservation.

'After this ritual, how many would survive?'

Magnus's eye scanned the thralls. Nine hundred was far from his ideal number, but it would have to do.

Just as he had no other choice now.

"Begin."

Ahriman, stepped forward. "Father, if we are to use this spell to break through the xenos Webway, we will have to bargain with one of the most dangerous entities in the Great Ocean. In Gothic, beings such as these are called daemons."

"Daemon is a word coined by the ignorant." Magnus's eye shifted to blue, gleaming with wisdom.

"Long ago, I encountered an entity within the Great Ocean. It was a vast and immeasurably intelligent existence."

"Its power was as boundless as the sea itself. Even the brightest stars of the material universe could not compare to it. Such a being can be bargained with."

Ahriman did not withdraw. "If he is so powerful, are you certain you can gain the upper hand?"

"I am certain I can." Magnus promised.

"I have bargained with it before. This time will be no different."

"We are using forbidden power to warn the Emperor. Will He believe us?" Ahriman continued to question.

"We have no choice. Vague astropathic messages cannot convey the truth accurately enough." Magnus's eye shifted to gold.

"I will carry the news of Horus's rebellion to Terra. When my father sees what I have seen, He will surely understand."

As he spoke, Magnus handed the Book of Magnus to Chief Librarian Hathor Maat. Only he and Ahriman possessed the mental clarity and mastery over the Enumeration, to recite the ritual incantations with absolute precision.

But Ahriman was plainly filled with misgivings about the ritual. Hathor, meanwhile, had recently even begun touching the threshold of the tenth level of the mental state.

Magnus had thought Ahriman might one day reach the highest levels, but he had not expected Hathor to arrive there first.

'Hathor continues to surpass my expectations. Hopefully, with his assistance this time, I can bring about a positive change for the Imperium.'

Magnus walked to stand directly beneath the bronze instrument, staring at the green gem at its base.

He ascended to the Tenth Level of the Enumeration, freeing his spirit from his body as Hathor chanted.

He focused his consciousness into a single arrow, shooting it towards distant Terra.

His consciousness raced through the surging light and shifting colors of the Great Ocean.

Suddenly, the radiance around the arrow dimmed slightly. He knew he had lost some of the psychic thralls.

The sudden extinguishing of soul-fire slowed his advance.

"I can do this," Magnus whispered.

"On Ahgoru, I once discovered a secret that even the perceptive Nareth failed to see.

His mind's eye blazed, illuminating the vast, shimmering Great Ocean.

A glaring, golden thread caught his attention. He moved his mind. The arrow shot towards the golden passage.

Bang!

The arrow struck an invisible wall. Dozens of psychic thralls died.

Bang!

Another dozen died.

Yet the barrier of the xenos' Webway remained unyielding.

Magnus knew he could not break through on his own. He called out to a distant corner of the Great Ocean.

A familiar presence enveloped him. A vast intelligence moved through the tides, like a continental plate crossing an ocean.

Its hiss was like the last grains of sand falling through an hourglass.

It was boundless in depth and width, without beginning or end, as if it had always been with Magnus. It did not speak, but sent a surge of power.

Light radiated from the depths of the Great Ocean, converging upon the arrow.

Magnus felt the power the great being so generously offered him. This time, the cost was far smaller than he had expected.

He didn't even have to sacrifice an eye, as he had before.

The arrow shattered the xenos' barrier. The damaged Webway shrieked.

Beneath the Imperial Palace on Terra, two massive golden doors stood within a chamber, like the entrance to a magnificent fortress.

Countless cables converged on a ten-meter-tall golden throne.

Within the room, impossibly complex dimensional inhibitors and void buffers were intertwined. Thousands of technicians worked to maintain them.

The Emperor, seated upon the golden throne, rose abruptly, staring at the light erupting from within the golden doors.

Incredibly intricate, irreplaceable circuits overloaded and exploded. Arcane machinery was reduced to dust. The intricate runes carved into the cave walls, placed there by the Emperor Himself, vanished without a trace.

With a bang, the chamber's lighting failed.

The Emperor stared at the doors. His grand plan, centuries of work, were destroyed.

A surge of flame erupted from the doors, incinerating those who could not retreat. A massive crimson figure, wreathed in the flames of his arduous journey, stood within.

Magnus's eye blazed gold as it swept over the Custodes rushing to the golden doors.

"Father."

"Magnus."

Father and son touched minds, as they had so many times in the Great Ocean before their first meeting on Prospero.

In an instant, Magnus understood everything. He saw himself seated upon the golden throne, using his transcendent psychic power to guide humanity to its destiny, to rule the galaxy.

He would have been the key to the Emperor's ultimate victory. But he had shattered that grand dream himself.

He knew the warning he had come to deliver could not make up for the crime of his intrusion on Terra.

Horus's rebellion was insignificant compared to what his father had planned for him.

Tears streamed down Magnus's face.

His will wavered. The spell that had carried him to Terra lost its anchor.

Magnus did not resist, letting his consciousness be pulled back to his body.

He had once prided himself on his psychic supremacy among the Primarchs.

'I once took pride in having seen what Nareth failed to see. Now I have destroyed my father's dream.'

Now, only endless regret remained.

In the Reflecting Cave, all the psychic thralls were dead.

Their souls had been drained by the spell, offered to the vast being of the Great Ocean. Only their withered husks remained.

"Father..."

Magnus strode away through the crimson mist, his tears falling like pearls.

Hathor watched their father leave, ignoring their questions, almost like a fugitive.

His gaze swept over the shimmering psychic crystals lining the cave walls.

'Just as my Lord said, my father has made a terrible mistake.'

'The Wolves are coming.'

'I must act quickly. I must complete my Lord's task.'

....

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