Erebus was supremely confident.
He knew exactly what the Chaos Gods feared. With the False Emperor still existing, even taking Holy Terra would not mean much.
They did not dare risk the False Emperor ascending to godhood by destroying Holy Terra and the Golden Throne—thereby unleashing an endless tide of Chaos Daemons in full.
However, the False Emperor was not an invincible existence. Across the galaxy there were far older relics that could threaten Him.
Erebus stared at the Chaos Gods before him. "Great true gods of the Warp, I have found a way to eliminate the False Emperor's threat.
"Granted, we cannot kill the False Emperor outright—but we can seal Him away and isolate His influence.
"Once the Imperium, and the Saviour besides, lose the False Emperor's authority as support, they will collapse at a touch!"
Erebus lifted a hand lightly. A small, smooth black object floated up into midair. It radiated an unmistakable sense of wrongness, excluding all surrounding light.
More than that—even Warp energy was pushed away.
The Chaos Gods watched the black object, and caution surfaced in their gaze. They could feel the might contained within it.
Then they shifted their attention back onto Erebus.
Waiting for his explanation.
Erebus felt the pressure on him steadily mounting. He drew a deep breath.
He knew he had to give the gods an answer that satisfied them—otherwise, he would be in danger.
Yet that sensation only made him more exhilarated.
Because risk so often came with greater reward. The gods' full support would grant him armies and power beyond imagination.
This kind of cooperation was far superior to so-called "Chosen." It was the difference between an ally and a slave.
"It is called the Shadowlight. What a wonderful name, is it not?"
Erebus looked at the black object before him and introduced its origins. "The Shadowlight was discovered on an Imperial planet called Perlia. It is a component of a far larger machine, scattered across that world.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus studied the Shadowlight and found that it can alter the structure of realspace itself.
"Any being that comes into contact with it may awaken latent psychic potential, but almost everyone dies from it—the side effects are terrifying.
"They suspected this device could absorb Warp energy and impose influence upon reality.
"The Imperium feared the Shadowlight's power and refused to use it. They sealed it away—until Abaddon that idiot and his forces attacked Perlia and stole part of the machine.
"After that, the Black Legion was attacked, and those pieces fell into the hands of the Necrons—those walking racks of metal…"
Erebus prattled on, fully aware of the gods' impatience, and enjoying it all the more.
Even the true gods of the Warp—those great beings—had to stop and listen to his words.
Such opportunities were rare.
He stroked the Shadowlight gently and continued, "In any case, this relic ultimately fell into my hands—into the hands of its true master.
"I gathered Chaos artificers and conducted deeper research.
"In the end, we confirmed the Shadowlight to be the work of the Old Ones. They forged this exceptionally powerful artifact in their war against the C'tan, as a final measure."
Erebus raised his head toward the Chaos Gods, his tone turning fervent. "That is to say—this exquisite creation was made, from the very beginning, for one purpose…"
His eyes burned.
"Godslaying!"
The instant those words fell, an indescribable suffocation seized him.
The Dark Apostle, the Hand of Destiny, was lifted into the air as though some invisible force had clamped around his throat. His skin blistered beneath searing, molten flame.
Khorne's patience was nearly spent. The Blood God bound Erebus in foul power. "Juggling clown. Do not think that because you have brushed the stairway, you can act so self-important.
"Tell us what that thing truly does!"
To the Chaos Gods, aside from the Cursed One, all other beings were lowly life-forms.
None were truly capable of contending with them.
Whether it was Erebus before them—or the Saviour.
That Saviour was, at most, an annoying little squirrel: hard to kill, and his Warp-shield tunnel-borer never stopped rattling. Irritating.
Their real enemies—the ones who could pose lethal threat—had always been one another, and the Cursed One.
Of course, one thing the Chaos Gods were unwilling to admit was that they very much wanted to remove the Cursed One's threat and kill the Saviour.
And so they needed help.
Erebus could not resist. The flames gnawed at him relentlessly.
Just as his cloned body was about to be destroyed, the Blood God finally released him.
Erebus slammed into the ground—yet he wore a broad smile.
He had won the gamble. The Chaos Gods needed him.
He understood how deeply they hated the False Emperor, and how much they needed him to serve as a lever within the galaxy—to remove that being's threat.
"The Shadowlight, once fully assembled, has a powerful capacity to reshape. It can affect the veil between the Warp and realspace, making it far harder to pierce.
"As long as we can bring the assembled Shadowlight into the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra, we can use it to completely seal and isolate the False Emperor.
"Make Him a true prisoner.
"So what if He is strong? At most, He will become an eternal sun held in captivity."
Erebus slowly climbed to his feet, lighting the galaxy's star-map above with sorcery.
"Of course, because the Saviour has redeployed defenses, the Sol System's fortifications are stronger than before.
"But it is not unbreakable. I have already found the optimal route—an incomplete Webway passage that leads into the Sol System.
"The Saviour favors grand army operations and often uses Webway routes to reposition the Imperium's forces at high frequency. That inevitably causes a certain degree of weakening in defenses across relevant sectors.
"That is his weakness."
As he spoke, Erebus marked one Imperial defense zone after another on the star-map.
So clear.
For years he had studied the Saviour's temperament, and the Imperium's deployments and movement routes.
This was the authority he possessed: the ability to analyze the laws governing things, and guide them toward destruction.
And his target was the Imperium.
"With the aid of the Great Changer of Ways, I have obtained even more Imperial intelligence.
"The Saviour desperately needs blackstone. He will inevitably launch a campaign into the Vigilus region and dispatch more forces there."
Erebus pointed at the star-map of the Vigilus region. "With the forces the Saviour currently has, he is very likely to take that place—but he will probably proceed cautiously.
"So we must make the war there more bitter still. Draw in more powers and more conflict, forcing the Saviour to commit even more Imperial troops."
As he spoke, movement routes for Imperial forces appeared on the star-map—predictions from the Hand of Destiny.
"This is not enough. I will also ignite more crises and catastrophes elsewhere, exhausting the Saviour and the Imperium, leaving them scrambling to respond—drawing out batch after batch of Imperial troops."
Erebus's voice turned cold. "There will be more war, more torment, more death. We do not need to win. We only need to draw out more Imperial troops.
"And we must also rely on xenos strength to create more defensive breaches."
In an instant, one red point after another lit up across the star-map—crises erupting in sector after sector, especially within the Pariah Nexus of the Necrons.
He would detonate vast numbers of vortex torpedoes there, enraging those Necrons and stoking the hatred those detestable machine-lifeforms bore toward the Imperium.
That was Erebus's plan.
He would seize the defense gaps in the Saviour's and the Imperium's posture—then lead Horus and the cloned Primarchs, along with the united Chaos host, toward Holy Terra.
Until they breached the Imperial Palace itself.
It would inflict damage more severe than the Horus Heresy. The Sol System would become a sea of fire. Holy Terra would fall. The Custodians would die one after another.
And he would activate the Shadowlight, severing the False Emperor's connection to reality—then drag the False Emperor's bones down from the Golden Throne and grind them beneath his heel.
The Saviour would regret becoming the enemy of the Hand of Destiny.
"Great true gods—this is my plan."
Erebus raised his head toward the Chaos Gods, and there was something different in his eyes now. "A plan of this magnitude cannot be completed by me alone. I need your full support.
"And the final spoils are the False Emperor—imprisoned, trampled. What a magnificent bargain!"
Erebus's gaze brimmed with anticipation. The Chaos Gods' support was the final piece of this grand design.
The daemonic effigies of the Chaos Gods exchanged looks, and then reached an accord.
"Erebus, sly little thing. We will support any action you take. You had best pray you can complete all of this.
"Otherwise, what you lose will be ten thousand times more cruel than what you gain…"
After promising their help, the Chaos Gods slowly faded away. They had to marshal the daemonic legions and resources required from the Empyrean.
That was no small number.
"As you wish!"
Erebus bowed respectfully, seeing off those allies.
He walked to a vat and looked with excitement at Horus sleeping within. "My dear Warmaster. This time you will fulfill your long-cherished wish—under the guidance of the Hand of Destiny.
"As for that Saviour—an idiot who is not quite so stupid—he will be spun around and around by the great Erebus."
Erebus paced within the grand hall, savoring the fullness of power within him. The influence was already taking effect.
Now, what should he do next?
He thought of something, and his flayed face split into a wider grin. "I should send the Saviour a formal challenge first—let him know the miserable fate awaiting him…"
Erebus looked forward to it. That Saviour surely did not know that he had already grasped the other party's psychic frequency.
Humm—
A veil of foul power rose. The Saviour's startled face appeared within it.
Erebus forcibly projected his sorcery onto the Saviour and established contact—an extreme provocation.
He stared at the Saviour, his voice hoarse. "Saviour, your brilliance has ended. The Imperium's last hope will be crushed by the great—"
"What are you even babbling about? Who are you? Can't you see I'm busy? Psychic harassment is forbidden from now on. Keep it up and the Grey Knights will come knocking.
"Get lost!"
Erebus had not even finished when the Saviour, wearing an impatient expression, cut the connection—then blocked him with smooth, practiced ease.
???
Erebus fell silent for a long moment. His withered features visibly flushed with heat.
That Saviour dared ignore him. What humiliation!
"Fine. Fine. Fine."
Erebus drew a deep, deep breath, forcing down his fury.
He issued orders to the Word Bearers under his command, his voice slipping out of control. "Detonate the vortex torpedoes in the Silent King's territory at once. And… you will go to the Vigilus region.
"Gather more troops there. Summon more daemons.
"Chaos. I want more chaos…"
Erebus wanted the Vigilus region to become an unprecedented maelstrom.
And the Silent King, and the disasters flaring up everywhere, would leave the Saviour overwhelmed.
That arrogant Saviour thought he could seize advantage in the Vigilus region.
In reality, he would suffer a defeat unlike any before.
Under Erebus's guidance, he would face every enemy in the galaxy and the Warp.
…
Dreamweaver, War Council Chamber.
"…Get lost!"
Eden cursed at the heretic renegade who had tried to harass him, cut the connection, and blocked it—clean and effortless.
He waved at his speechless aide Tarko and the Primarch brothers beside him. "It's nothing. Continue."
After speaking, Eden sat back down, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a faint exhaustion.
There had been too many affairs lately.
The Vigilus campaign, the Imperium's deepening reform agenda, major projects spanning multiple sectors, the overall relocation plan for Holy Terra, and all manner of crises about to erupt—
Everything had piled up at once.
It exceeded what the Saviour's domain could process. Many projects would likely need to pause—major works, the relocation plan, and so on.
Eden, of course, knew the one who had just contacted him was Erebus.
Brother Corax had gone missing for some reason, and it was highly likely he had fallen into Erebus's trap.
That shameless wretch was certainly calling to mock him. Why give him the satisfaction?
When dealing with disgusting, hateful heretic renegades like that, the best solution was isolation—or permanent physical annihilation.
Things had to be handled one by one. For now, he would take Vigilus and its blackstone deposits first—otherwise he could not sleep soundly.
Eden raised his head and looked at the star-map of the Vigilus region above the war council chamber. One red mark after another was pinned across it—dense, almost suffocating.
Every red mark represented an army, belonging to different species and factions, tangled beyond measure.
Nearly every power in the galaxy—and the Warp—was involved.
Vigilus, the fortress world. New Zircon. Qudi-12. Skyring. Omis. Neling, and more besides.
Across dozens of planets and planetoids in that sector, forces from all sides were everywhere, wars erupting so violently that brains were being spilled.
In the Vigilus region, hundreds or thousands of battles were happening every single moment. It was simply the galaxy's largest meat grinder—and the Imperium was only one participant.
Eden had previously considered using Webway routes to draw up the largest Imperial legion force in history, shove it in with a single massive push, and be done.
But now he felt that would be unwise—especially after Erebus resurfaced. It was too risky.
Better to deploy an appropriate force and win by strategy.
That would be steadier.
In simple terms: this Saviour was going to put on a micromanagement display.
On the most chaotic battlefield in the galaxy, he would gradually bite off territory piece by piece—
Until victory was secured.
That meant accounting for the balance among all factions—alliances, pacts, leverage, and counter-leverage.
From a certain angle, he did have "friends" on Vigilus.
Eden's gaze settled on one planet on the map—Omis. It was, astonishingly, the homeworld of the T'au Empire.
But it had been out of contact for a long time.
There was no helping it. Because of the rich blackstone deposits and the intense Warp energies, time behaved strangely in the Vigilus region.
Time there was completely out of sync with the Imperium.
The flow rates were different.
That was also why Eden did not want to send too many troops in. If the Imperium's main host stayed in that region for too long, who knew how much time would pass back home—or what might happen in the meantime?
So he planned to go personally, leading an Imperial host himself. As for Lion and the other Primarch brothers, they would remain to guard Imperial territory.
Eden had assessed it—he still had room to operate.
The T'au Empire, the Drukhari, the Orks… all of them could potentially be brought into play. That would let him expand his forces continuously.
He could even recruit local labor in the name of Diablo the Destroyer.
That way, he could achieve the goal of growing stronger as he fought—until he seized the Vigilus region outright.
Of course, it would not be easy. That region had been cut off from the wider galaxy for a long time and had developed its own unique ecology.
"This war will be a war that matters above all.
"Once I take Vigilus, Imperial technology will take a great leap forward. Many concepts for suppressing the Warp can be realized, and we can forge powerful weapons to resist the threats to come.
"There are not many great wars like this left. This one must be finished under my hand…"
Eden thought about it and felt eager for the spoils soon to be his.
He had been drooling over blackstone for a long time.
The Imperium's odds were high—but he could not be blindly optimistic.
Because the intelligence in hand was outdated. No one knew how much time had passed in the Vigilus region, or what had changed there.
And the xenos presence was terrifyingly vast—especially the Necrons. They were the Imperium's gravest hidden danger. No one knew whether the Silent King would set his sights on that place.
They could only take it step by step.
Not long after, Eden received bad news: the Pariah Nexus was stirring, and seemed to be expanding outward again.
Fortunately, with so many Primarch brothers now available, he sent Lion to investigate with an army and, as far as possible, establish defensive lines to prepare for a possible war.
Meanwhile, the Khan and Perturabo continued to hold Imperial territory, strengthening defenses everywhere and standing ready to reinforce at any time.
After making these arrangements—
Eden led an Imperial host toward the Vigilus region. Accompanying him were also elite contingents of Chaos Space Marines, Drukhari, Orks, and Tyranids.
He had to arrive as soon as possible, grasp the latest situation, and ideally finish this fast.
Luckily, the Imperium was not without foundation in the Vigilus region. Years ago, the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, Marneus Calgar, had gone there to stabilize the situation.
—
Outer voidspace of the Vigilus region.
The void was filled with dim, scar-like stains, and within them one could faintly see numerous whirlpools formed by gravity.
They continuously distorted time throughout this region.
An indescribable darkness and irritation blanketed the stars, so oppressive that one could almost smell blood.
The life of this sector had spent countless years in war, to the point it had become routine.
Humm—
Dreamweaver and a large fleet burst out of the Warp, shattering the stillness here.
Observation dome.
"So this is the Vigilus region. It certainly has… character."
Eden stared at the distant, chaotic, uncanny void, filled with emotion.
He had only just arrived—and he had already run into a "local specialty."
In the far voidspace ahead, a Chaos warband and a Tyranid splinter tendril were ganging up on an Aeldari craftworld the size of an asteroid.
(End of Chapter)
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