Chapter 6: Heretic
How does one comfort a man who weeps?
Erebus did not know.
Lorgar knelt upon the stone floor, shoulders shaking, his face buried in his hands. His sobs echoed through the chamber—raw, broken sounds that did not belong to a primarch. Around him, the Word Bearers stood frozen. Warriors who had faced orbital fire and xenos horrors could not bring themselves to step forward. None dared approach while Erebus watched them with eyes cold enough to kill.
"I have sinned," Lorgar whispered between gasps."I have failed the God-Emperor.""How did I not see it sooner?""I have violated His divine will."
The words spilled from him without order, confession tumbling into confession.
Erebus had intended to guide him gently, to whisper truths and half-truths until Lorgar found his footing again. Instead, the primarch had collapsed completely—faith imploding under its own impossible weight.
"Brother," Erebus said quietly.
"I am guilty," Lorgar sobbed."Do not look at me.""I am unworthy of His light."
Enough.
Erebus knelt before him, gripping Lorgar's wrists, trying to force him to look up. The primarch did not respond. His crying only worsened, like a man possessed.
Erebus lost patience.
He struck Lorgar—once, then again. The sharp crack echoed through the hall.
The blow stunned Lorgar into silence. His head snapped to the side, then slowly turned back. Confusion replaced despair.
"Is this… punishment?" Lorgar murmured. "Has the Emperor judged me?"
Behind them, a groan sounded.
Kor Phaeron was stirring.
The old priest struggled onto one elbow, his vision swimming. As his sight cleared, he saw Erebus standing over Lorgar—and the unmistakable marks of violence upon the primarch's face.
Kor Phaeron inhaled sharply.
Erebus turned.
He crouched beside Kor Phaeron and forced the man's eyelids open with his fingers.
"Where is your courage now?" Erebus hissed. "The courage you had when you called me a heretic?"
Kor Phaeron tried to speak.
Erebus punched him.
The blow dropped him flat, consciousness fleeing once more. Erebus straightened with a satisfied breath and turned back to Lorgar, who still knelt in stunned silence.
"Enough tears," Erebus snapped. He kicked Lorgar lightly. "If you keep crying, I'll tell the Emperor you've learned nothing."
The effect was immediate.
Lorgar wiped his face and looked up, eyes red but focused.
"Tell me," he said hoarsely. "How do I atone?"
Erebus paused.
He did not know.
Then he remembered Monarchia—the perfect city, the Emperor's wrath, the ashes of faith turned to dust. An idea formed.
"Build," Erebus said."A statue of the Emperor.""A city devoted entirely to Him."
Hope flickered across Lorgar's face.
"And then?" Lorgar asked.
Erebus's smile was thin.
"Then wait for the Emperor to destroy it."
Silence fell.
"What?" Lorgar whispered.
"You were disloyal," Erebus said coldly. "You must pay the price. Do you think the Emperor needs worship? Faith is not stone and gold. If He were a god who demanded monuments, He would be no god worth believing in."
The words settled deep.
Lorgar rose unsteadily. He crossed the chamber and took a barbed scourge from one of the guards. He returned and pressed it into Erebus's hands.
"Punish me," Lorgar said. "As Kor Phaeron once punished me. Let my flesh pay for my failure."
Erebus froze.
He knew Kor Phaeron had been harsh—but this?
Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
Can I truly save him? Erebus wondered.
His doubt hardened into resolve.
Instead of turning the whip on Lorgar, Erebus stepped toward Kor Phaeron.
The whip cracked.
Kor Phaeron screamed as pain tore him back into consciousness.
"If the son is flawed," Erebus said, striking again, "then the father has failed. Your so-called guidance shaped this misery."
Kor Phaeron gasped, mind reeling. Confusion warred with rage.
Erebus thrust the whip into Lorgar's hands.
"Do it," he commanded. "Strike him. Break his hold over you. His pain is your atonement."
Lorgar's hands trembled.
Kor Phaeron could bear no more.
With a roar, he surged to his feet, psychic energy blazing around him.
"Heretics!" he screamed. "Die!"
Warp-light flared—
—and vanished.
Erebus had already turned.
His hand closed around Kor Phaeron's throat, lifting him from the ground.
"You will never call me that again," Erebus snarled. "On this world, that word is a death sentence."
His grip tightened.
"I do not seek faith," Erebus whispered. "I seek survival. And anyone who stands in my way will fall."
Kor Phaeron choked, eyes wide with terror.
Erebus did not look away.