Chapter 28: The Emperor's Wrath — Every Blow Lands True
For the first time in tens of thousands of years, the Emperor of Mankind wanted to kill someone.
The wind stirred the hem of His golden robes. Erebus stood before Him and saw it clearly — anger, yes, but also exhaustion. A weariness that did not belong to a man, but to a being who had carried humanity on His shoulders since before recorded history.
The golden circlet upon His brow glinted beneath Colchis' light. His gaze fixed upon Erebus.
It made the scalp prickle.
Erebus had a strange thought.
This is a man who has worked too many overtime shifts and is one inconvenience away from resigning from reality.
"Erebus, is it?" the Emperor asked.
His voice was deep, controlled — almost ordinary. That made it worse.
Erebus nodded.
"You organized this display?"
"It was Lorgar," Erebus replied instantly. "Entirely Lorgar."
He did not hesitate. The Emperor's eyes were full of doubt — and something dangerously close to sarcasm.
Beside him, Lorgar Aurelian looked radiant.
"The One True God! Yes, Father, it was I!"
Erebus felt his eyelids twitch.
Such shameless enthusiasm.
The Emperor slowly turned His gaze toward Lorgar.
He had only just reunited with this son — and already banners fluttered across an entire world proclaiming Him divine.
His eyes shifted to the enormous golden standard rising above the plaza.
WELCOME, GOLDEN GOD OF MANKIND.
The Emperor closed His eyes briefly.
"Lorgar," He said at last, voice measured. "Are you certain this is necessary?"
It was phrased as a question.
It was not a question.
"Great Emperor," Lorgar answered earnestly, "these are Your faithful. Erebus taught us how to guide them properly."
The Emperor's attention returned to Erebus.
There it is.
The source.
He stepped forward.
Erebus stepped back.
He could feel it now — the pressure of the Emperor's psychic presence concentrating solely upon him. It was not merely anger.
It was judgment.
"Erebus," the Emperor said softly. "You have done… very well."
Sweat formed at Erebus' temples.
Behind the Emperor, Lorgar discreetly gave him an approving nod.
Idiot, Erebus thought. That was not praise.
The pressure intensified. Erebus felt as if gravity itself had increased tenfold around him.
He could not simply wait to be crushed.
"My Lord," Erebus blurted suddenly, "I am from Terra."
The words came out sharp and deliberate.
He was gambling.
Confession, revelation — whatever it took. If the Emperor intended to end him, then at least answers would be demanded first.
The pressure vanished instantly.
The Emperor studied him carefully now.
"I will speak with you alone," He said.
Erebus exhaled slowly.
He was not dead yet.
"Follow."
Magnus the Red took a step to accompany them, but immediately halted. An invisible command pressed against his mind.
Not you.
He inclined his head slightly and turned instead toward Lorgar.
"I am Magnus," he said.
"Lorgar Aurelian."
They clasped forearms.
Magnus glanced toward the departing figures. "Whose idea was the… presentation?"
"Erebus," Lorgar answered without hesitation.
Magnus nodded solemnly.
"My condolences."
"He is blessed to receive Father's personal guidance," Lorgar replied with genuine envy.
Magnus said nothing.
He had seen the Emperor angry before.
He had never seen Him like this.
Inside the transport barge, the air felt heavier.
Erebus followed the Emperor up the ramp and into the vessel's interior. The hatch sealed behind them with a metallic finality.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The Emperor turned.
"Erebus," He said calmly, "you publicly invoked My name alongside that of the Prince of Excess. Do you understand what that implies?"
Erebus swallowed.
"I do not, my Lord."
A lie.
The Emperor's expression hardened.
He had not summoned Erebus here to debate theology.
He had summoned him to vent.
"Erebus."
The shift in tone was subtle.
Erebus glanced at the hatch behind him. In that instant, instinct overrode dignity. He took a step toward it.
The Emperor's eyes met his.
Time seemed to slow.
Erebus lunged.
"Help—"
Golden psychic energy lashed out like chains of sunlight. It wrapped around him instantly, binding his limbs, sealing his mouth. The hatch fused shut with a hiss of molten metal.
The Emperor approached slowly.
"Golden God?" He repeated flatly.
The psychic restraints tightened.
"Divine Emperor? Worship? Loyal believer?
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
Erebus shook his head violently.
He had made a miscalculation.
A significant one.
The Emperor rolled up His sleeves.
The psychic gag loosened briefly.
"What do you have to say?"
"You false Emperor! Kill me if you dare! I am—"
The gag returned.
The Emperor exhaled once, long and slow.
He moved to a storage compartment within the chamber and retrieved a pair of massive auramite gauntlets — relic war-plate components suited for His immense strength.
When He drew them on, the metal sang softly with power.
Erebus' eyes widened.
The gag loosened again.
"My Lord! Emperor! Master of Mankind! I erred! I was misguided! I—"
The psychic restraint sealed his mouth once more.
"I do not care what you are," the Emperor said quietly. "I care what you have done."
The first punch landed.
It was not symbolic.
It was not restrained.
It was physical.
The blow hurled Erebus across the chamber, the restraints dragging him back like a tether.
For the next hour, the Emperor of Mankind personally educated Erebus on the consequences of theological innovation.
Every blow landed.
Every strike carried both strength and psychic force.
There was no divine aura.
No golden radiance.
Just controlled, precise fury.
When at last the Emperor stepped back, Erebus lay suspended in midair, bruised, bloodied, barely conscious.
The Emperor removed the gauntlets slowly.
He felt… marginally better.
Then He noticed something.
Across Erebus' battered form flickered a faint, prismatic shimmer.
Five hues of warp-light.
Subtle.
But unmistakable.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed.
He struck Erebus once more — sharply across the face.
Erebus' head snapped sideways.
He blinked weakly.
"Ah… False Emperor… you are finished…"
The Emperor's jaw tightened.
His fist clenched.
Another punch followed.
This one deliberate.
This one thoughtful.
The shimmer remained.
And for the first time since stepping onto Colchis, the Emperor's anger cooled into something far more dangerous.
Concern.
(End of Chapter)
Picture of Erebus