966.M30.
The Word Bearers, licking their wounds from the humiliation of Monarchia, dispersed into independent fleets.
The 1301st Expedition Fleet arrived in a strange region of the galactic north.
A vast expanse of space, encompassing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of star systems.
A Warp anomaly manifested as a nebulous mist, tainting the stars, coiling around a core of boiling energy.
It resembled an eye in the void.
The fleet, traversing violent storms, reached a position of relative safety.
The Serrated Sun Chapter spent three years laying waste to seven planets in the system.
The Chapter's sub-commander, Ekket Tarr, Captain of the 7th Assault Company, and his brothers, transformed into wolves, turned world after world to ash.
Like the World Eaters, they butchered countless millions.
They vented their shame from the ruins of Monarchia upon these seven worlds.
The eighth world was not destroyed.
It was the twelfth world conquered by the 1301st Fleet, designated 1301-12 in Imperial records.
1301-12 was spared because the language of its primitive inhabitants was the same as Colchisian, the tongue of the Word Bearers' homeworld.
Their beliefs, too, mirrored those of Colchis.
Lorgar Aurelian, intrigued by the reports, came in person.
Upon his arrival, he immediately convened the fleet's high command for a briefing.
Sotha Davir, the leader of the Astropaths, spoke slowly.
"My lord, this is no mere Warp storm that surrounds this region. It has raged for a long time and has already seeped into realspace."
"This region is both real and unreal. It is the Warp, and it is the material universe."
Lorgar's grey eyes held a light not seen for a long time. "I see genesis. This is what the galaxy looked like at its birth."
"My brother Magnus showed me images like this, in his villa by Cold Lake, within the Imperial Palace."
"The difference is that this genesis is not real. It is the galaxy's ghost."
His tone projected a feverish intensity. "You see an eye, or a vortex. You are both right and wrong."
"It is a psychic imprint. Its power is enough to tear open the universe, to allow the Warp to seep into the material galaxy."
The Astropath drew a shuddering breath. "Something on the world below is screaming. Loudly."
Lorgar's eyes glowed. He cut him off.
"This region is unexplored. Unnamed."
"What ships did we lose during our passage through the storms?"
Ekket Tarr answered, his voice heavy with grief. "The Undying Reverence, the Litany, and the Concordia."
"Ensure the star charts sent back to Terra are updated. From now on, this region will be known as the Scarus Sector."
The Word Bearers bowed their heads in mourning. The Concordia had carried Captain Scarus and his 52nd Company.
His death was a heavy blow to the Serrated Sun Chapter. The Warp had mercilessly swallowed one-third of the Chapter's strength.
Lorgar carefully unrolled a scroll from a wooden tube at his belt.
On the papyrus, a spiral pattern had been sketched in charcoal.
Every man recognized it. It was what they had just seen, the stain among the stars.
Boom!
The entire ship shuddered violently. Emergency lighting bathed everything in red.
The holographic projection vanished, then reappeared after a few seconds.
"This was drawn from memory," Lorgar said, staring at them. "But my Word Bearers should know it."
"The Heavenly Realm," the high-ranking officers of the Chapter said in unison.
The Gate of Heaven, from the ancient scrolls of Colchis.
"We were summoned," Lorgar's voice was low and clear.
"Something waits for us on the world below."
"It calls my name through the psychic storm."
Lorgar descended to the surface with Deumos, Chapter Master of the Serrated Sun, Ekket Tarr, Captain of the 7th Company, Shale Kuri, Captain of the 39th Company, and their Chaplains.
As the grey, granite-hulled gunship landed and Lorgar set foot on the ground, he noticed that the natives' eyes were a distinctive purple.
Vendatha, a golden-armored Custodes with a guardian spear, followed at a distance. Since being assigned to Lorgar, Aquillon had ensured at least one Custodes accompanied the Primarch at all times.
Vendatha stared at the crowd, wrapped in animal furs. "It is the storms that have turned their eyes purple."
"They are mutants. They must be destroyed."
The Word Bearers looked at the Custodes with disgust. Since they had joined the fleet, none of them, except Ekket Tarr, had shown them any respect.
Ekket Tarr stepped in front of the guardian spear. "Are you not curious?"
"The world below us borders a Warp storm. Those who come to greet us all have the same color eyes."
"How can you condemn them without even asking why?"
"The fact that they exist is answer enough," Vendatha stared at Lorgar. "Primarch Lorgar, we must purge this world."
Lorgar shook his head. "I will see these people for myself. I will be the judge of their fate."
"I will not slaughter an entire world because our father's war dog grumbles about the color of their eyes."
"The Emperor's Eyes will learn of this," Vendatha said, his face grim. "And so will the Emperor."
"The Emperor, and the Imperium, will never forget what we learn here," Lorgar said, watching the approaching woman.
"I promise you that, Custodes Vendatha."
Lorgar walked towards her. The cloak on the woman's shoulders was the pale brown of a rotting peach.
Her beautiful, uncanny purple eyes were rimmed with pale white pigment, depicting the totems of various tribes.
Vendatha opened the vox channel. "That is human skin."
"Her cloak is made of tanned, cured human hide."
Ekket Tarr tried to calm him. "I know. Lower your weapon."
"How can Lorgar even speak with these beasts?" Vendatha asked, incredulous.
"They are skinners. Mutants."
Lorgar inclined his head towards the young woman with jet-black hair.
The skulls on her belt clinked. She was tall for a human, but only reached the Primarch's waist.
She looked up at the giant, unruffled.
"I have been waiting for you, Lorgar Aurelian."
Lorgar was startled. "You know my name."
The woman nodded. "We have waited many years."
"This night was foretold. Look around you. The tribes have gathered."
The sky shimmered with light. The woman continued.
"Lorgar. A blessed name. The favorite son of the Four True Gods."
"I do not have four fathers. I am a son of the Emperor of Mankind, and nothing more." Lorgar's voice was controlled.
The woman gave a beautiful laugh. "You are the favorite of the Four."
"Your first father has rebuked you. But your four fathers are proud of you."
Lorgar's smile vanished. "Who are you?"
"I am Ingethel the Chosen." Her face radiated warmth.
"Soon, I will be Ingethel the Ascended."
"I am the Guide, appointed by the gods." Her pigment-stained hands pointed at the ground below.
"This world is called Cadia."
"Lorgar, favored son of the Four, you are too late. What was meant for you has already been taken by your brother Nareth."
Lorgar asked, astonished, "You know Nareth as well?"
"My things?"
"What did he take?"
Ingethel's smile was radiant and innocent. "I will tell you everything. Come with me to the Sanctuary of the Great Eye."
She turned and walked towards a cave.
There were no structures on Cadia's surface.
Lorgar led the Word Bearers, following Ingethel into the Sanctuary of the Great Eye. They found it was a natural cathedral of deep caverns and underground rivers.
The sanctuary was primitive, as befitting the Cadian's simple civilization.
The stone walls were covered in hieroglyphs and cuneiform runes, complex patterns, charcoal murals, and engraved totems.
Custodes Vendatha stared at the crude drawings. His eyes stung. He gripped his guardian spear uneasily.
Lorgar's fingertips traced the charcoal murals. He stopped.
He stared at two crudely drawn images: one of a robed figure standing beside a one-eyed giant in chainmail.
The other mural was clearer.
Between two tall figures, a claw and an eye.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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