Chapter 45: Angron — Erebus Is Actually Useful
"Blasted—!"
The Conqueror shook violently.
A detonation ripped through one of the internal decks—specifically, the ship's primary mess hall.
By the time the World Eaters arrived, the place was in ruins.
Tables overturned.
Metal plating warped.
And more importantly—
Residual psychic energy.
That alone was enough to set alarms ringing.
Angron frowned.
Erebus narrowed his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Something was on the ship.
Suspicion
Since boarding, Angron had kept Erebus close.
Very close.
They slept in the same chamber.
Ate at the same table.
Even—
Bathed in the same facilities.
(At Erebus' insistence that "ritual purity" improved warp resistance—something Angron didn't fully understand, but tolerated.)
The closer Khârn watched, the more something felt off.
There had been no direct conflict.
No arguments.
No violence.
And that was the problem.
Khârn looked at the reports in his hands.
Fewer documents.
Fewer orders.
Fewer meetings with Angron.
Even administrative burdens—
Gone.
"…Erebus…"
His grip tightened.
"…Erebus…"
His eye twitched.
"…EREBUS!"
Khârn's Breaking Point
In a quiet corner of the ship—
Khârn stabbed a crude paper effigy repeatedly.
"Erebus! Erebus! DIE! I'll stab you to death! Give me back my father!"
He was losing it.
Completely.
At this rate, the World Eaters would be renamed the Word Bearers Auxiliary Legion.
Yes, Erebus had helped stabilize Angron.
Yes, the Butcher's Nails were… quieter.
But—
That respect?
That attention?
Khârn had never received that in his life.
What was Erebus doing while Khârn slept?
Sleeping on the floor beside Angron.
What was Erebus doing at meals?
Serving food.
Pouring drinks.
Managing everything.
What about during Angron's recovery rituals?
Providing supplies.
Even—
Soap.
Khârn's face twisted in anguish.
"When… will the World Eaters rise again…?"
The Whisper
"Boy… do you want to win your father's favor?"
Khârn froze.
"…Who said that?"
The voice was right beside his ear.
Soft.
Mocking.
Wrong.
Every instinct screamed danger.
Without hesitation, Khârn armed himself and went to find Erebus.
Because if something warp-related was happening—
Erebus was the expert.
The Message
"If you wish," the voice whispered again, "bring food to Deck Three, Chamber Five."
A pause.
"Oh—and bring two portions."
Khârn's grip tightened.
"And who are you?"
A soft chuckle.
"The Crimson King."
Khârn's eyes narrowed.
"…I don't trust you."
Breach
Bolter loaded.
Chainaxe ready.
Khârn kicked the door open with a squad of World Eaters.
Inside—
Silence.
Then—
Magnus the Red.
Lorgar Aurelian.
"…?"
The room froze.
Magnus and Lorgar looked at each other.
Then—
They moved.
Khârn and his squad were dragged inside—
And promptly beaten.
Negotiation (Violent)
"Listen, Khârn!" Lorgar said, pressing him into the ground. "I will reclaim Erebus!"
"You will reclaim your father's attention!" Magnus added.
"Our goals align!"
Khârn, face pressed into the floor, thought:
That actually makes sense…
"…Can you take your foot off my face first?"
The Plan
Soon, an agreement was reached.
Temporary separation.
Poison.
Nothing lethal.
Just enough to—
Create distance.
As they debated methods—
Discovery
"Lorgar? Magnus?!"
Erebus' voice.
Shock.
Suspicion.
"How did he find us?" Lorgar muttered.
Erebus stepped into view.
"Oh, I saw the alert system trigger in this sector," he said calmly. "Angron gave me full administrative control over the ship."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Chaos
"Erebus! You cannot betray the Word Bearers!" Lorgar shouted.
"Erebus! The Thousand Sons need you!" Magnus added.
"Erebus! You belong to my father!" Khârn roared.
Erebus stared at them.
"…What is wrong with all of you?"
Without hesitation—
He slammed the hatch shut.
Locked it.
"…Hallucination."
"It's just a hallucination."
He walked away.
"…Everything is normal."
Breach (Again)
BOOM.
The door exploded inward.
"EREBUS!"
Three voices.
Unified.
Terrifying.
Erebus ran.
Immediately.
Straight back to—
Angron.
Confrontation
Angron stood waiting.
Arms crossed.
Expression dark.
"So," he said slowly, "you two snuck onto my ship… and blew up my mess hall?"
Magnus looked away.
Lorgar coughed.
"…Does the Emperor know?" Angron asked.
They both shook their heads.
Angron sighed.
"…He will."
A pause.
"I won't report you."
Relief.
"But," Angron continued, "Erebus is not joining the World Eaters permanently."
Silence.
"He's useful," Angron added bluntly. "He suppresses the Butcher's Nails."
Magnus and Lorgar exchanged a glance.
Then nodded.
"…Fair."
Angron extended a hand.
"Welcome to the World Eaters."
They shook it.
Immediate Betrayal
Then—
Angron yanked them forward.
"YOU BASTARDS!"
His roar shook the chamber.
"Stealing my people?!"
Magnus snapped back instantly:
"Do you know how much administrative work Erebus handles for me?!"
Lorgar added:
"And for me?!"
Angron blinked.
"…Oh."
A pause.
"…That explains a lot."
Reflection
Later—
Angron sat quietly.
For once, his mind was… still.
The Nails—
Quieter.
Fading.
Healing.
Slowly.
He could think.
Feel.
Remember.
He smiled faintly.
"…Erebus…"
A rare admission.
"…You're actually useful."
Olympia
Far away—
On the cold, iron world of Olympia—
Perturabo read the Emperor's message.
His expression darkened.
"…Erebus."
He remembered him.
A sycophant.
A manipulator.
A priest.
Useless.
And now—
Being sent to him.
"…A test."
Of course it was.
Everything was a test.
Perturabo exhaled slowly.
He hated this.
Hated war.
Hated politics.
Hated—
Everything.
But he endured.
Because he had to.
Because he would prove himself.
Because he would not be forgotten.
His Legion—
The Iron Warriors—
Would stand above all others.
Cold.
Perfect.
Unbreakable.
"…Let them come," he muttered.
He opened another report.
Horus required reinforcements.
Of course he did.
Perturabo closed his eyes.
Then opened them again.
Sharp.
Focused.
"I will not fall behind."
"I will not fail."
"I will not be overlooked."
End of Chapter 45
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