On Terra, Fabius Bile was currently preoccupied with hunting the gene-seed of the Emperor's Children. On one hand, he loathed these fallen creatures whose depravity ensured the Legion could never be truly reconstituted; on the other, he was exhilarated by the sheer bounty laid before him.
Lucius watched as Bile gathered his "specimens." The Great Horned Rat could be generous, but he always demanded a far greater tribute in return.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions thundered incessantly in his ears, but Lucius remained indifferent. After all, Horus and the Emperor were currently locked in a struggle to the death; it had nothing to do with him. If anything, he found the spectacle quite entertaining.
The future Imperium would never again claw its way back to the zenith of power it held this day.
"Are you finished? It is time to depart. Horus will soon descend upon Terra, and in his current state, he is... formidable," Lucius said with a chuckle to the harvesting Fabius. The Chief Apothecary was already draped in gene-seed flasks from every Legion he could scavenge.
Hearing Lucius, the "Spider" snapped back to reality and nodded. "Very well. This is sufficient."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A volley of bolter fire erupted as a group of warriors emerged from the ruins. A squad of Iron Warriors had deployed boarding shields and begun a merciless suppression fire toward their position.
"They don't recognize the power armor you're wearing?" Lucius didn't even blink. The stream of bolter shells simply froze in mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. He plucked a shell from the air like a man picking a flower, turning it over in his fingers.
"Heh. What unity or cooperation exists among traitors? Besides, at this stage, the Iron Warriors are likely preparing their withdrawal," Fabius said, his chirurgeon tools whirring with anticipation.
Lucius scoffed inwardly. Though Perturabo was a twisted, bitter soul, he had been the most reliable asset in the Great Rebellion aside from Horus himself. Without Perturabo and his Iron Warriors, which of these fractured, bickering Legions could have achieved anything?
Just as the Apothecary secured the last of the gene-seed and Lucius prepared to warp him back to the proper timeline, a steady, resonant male voice echoed in Lucius's mind.
"Son of Man, Shadow of the Horn... come and meet me."
"Hmm?" Lucius's body stiffened. He turned his head toward the Sanctum Imperialis, the direction where the bombardment was most ferocious. You still want to trouble me at a time like this? Goldie, you certainly have some ideas.
However, the Lucius of today did not fear him. He accepted the invitation without hesitation.
With a flick of his wrist, Fabius felt a sudden, uncontrollable weightlessness as he was swallowed by the Warp and vanished. Lucius simply shrugged, leaned on his cane, and began his trek toward the Imperial Palace.
Though he appeared to walk at a leisurely pace, his speed was supernatural. As he drew closer, the mounds of corpses grew into mountains. It wasn't just mortals; the bodies of the demigod Astartes lay heaped in craters like common rats in a gutter.
Hundreds of Titans, tall as hills, exchanged fire with devastating weaponry outside the leveled palace walls. Beneath the feet of these God-Machines, Astartes fought in swarming masses.
Lucius reached the Eternity Gate. Naturally, the stranger was met with concentrated fire, but a moment later, the defenders realized not even a speck of dust had soiled his hem. He passed through the reinforced adamantium gates as if they were mist.
"Unknown hostile breach! Intercept immediately!"
The commanding officer of the Imperial Fists bellowed orders for Librarians and other defenders to halt the intruder. Soon, a circle of Librarians leading a tactical squad surrounded the black-robed figure.
Yet, the Librarians did not give the order to fire. After a heavy silence, one spoke: "Escort him to the Custodes."
Well played, old man. You've arranged everything, Lucius thought with a smirk.
Though the others were confused, they complied. They escorted him into the Inner Palace until a dozen Legio Custodes and Sisters of Silence appeared.
"We thank you for your assistance. We shall take him from here."
These Custodians were drenched in gore, evidently fresh from purging Daemons in the webway beneath the Golden Throne. Lucius had a fair inkling of what the "Corpse-to-be" wanted. He wouldn't ask me to sit on that Throne for him, would he? If so, I'll give his backside a few warp-tainted surprises.
The Emperor had likely briefed the Custodes; they kept a distance of at least thirty meters, their stance one of extreme vigilance. Lucius found it impossible to strike up a conversation or pry for any palace gossip.
Finally, he entered the Throneroom. There, he saw the Emperor seated upon the Golden Throne, his form flickering like a titanic lightning bolt as his psychic essence was drained away.
"Truly beautiful and powerful. My respects to your greatness, Emperor~"
Lucius stood at the foot of the soaring stairs of the Golden Throne, bowing with a humility that bordered on mockery.
The Emperor, not yet struck by Horus's final blow, maintained a pained consciousness. His eyes, burning with psychic radiance, fell upon Lucius. Though this was technically their first meeting (as the entity in the Warp was not the Emperor's full self), the Emperor spoke with the tone of an old acquaintance.
"You have come. Son of Man, Shadow of the Horn. I call upon you with a request."
"The Great Horned Rat is always generous, but never a fool." Lucius smiled, stepping up the dais. The Custodians nearby moved to intervene but found their limbs instantly locked in place.
When Lucius finally reached the Emperor, he found he still had to look up at the towering figure, even while the latter was seated.
"What do I gain? And I have no desire to waste my power on humanity. I am not their god."
"But only humanity can expand your domain. In the wake of the Great Crusade, the vermin have spread across the galaxy," the Emperor countered. "And my gift is prepared. We require only a small exchange of mutual aid—you gain power, and humanity gains safety."
A psychic vision manifested before Lucius. He saw a naked primitive man wielding a stone axe, striking another from behind, crushing his skull. Then, a name appeared in Lucius's mind:
Drach'nyen.
Looking up again, Lucius asked, "You want me to eliminate it?"
"Betrayal and murder are the fonts of your power. Devouring it serves you," the Emperor said with solemn conviction. "Moreover, it bears a specific lethality toward mankind. Son of Man, you were once human, but you have become something 'other.' Its power belongs to you. Let safety belong to humanity. What say you?"
Lucius rubbed his chin and nodded. "A specialist's task. No one commands the Great Horned Rat... save for profit. The vermin always fight to the death for a scrap of gain, but it is that very hunger that makes us strong."
The Emperor was correct. The Under-Empire of the Skaven still relied on the Imperium. The vermin needed a surface enemy to constantly struggle against; they needed to scavenge human refuse and skulk within the foundations of human architecture. If the Under-Empire were ever fully exposed to the light, it would signal its doom.
Lucius had no desire to destroy the Imperium of Man. Without this massive meat-shield enduring the brunt of the galaxy's horrors on the surface, the Skaven would become the next vulnerable empire.
The Emperor nodded and opened the Warp rift behind the Golden Throne.
Lucius cast aside his black robe. His ordinary face of a human youth shifted instantly into a rat-skulled horror crowned with thirteen pairs of twisted horns. His body swelled into a colossal, towering verminous avatar.
Only within the Warp can the Great Horned Rat fully manifest its true essence.
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