False Gods

heart what awaits you when the Great Crusade is over. You will become a gaoler who polices the Emperor's regime while he ascends to godhood and abandons you all. What sort of reward is that for someone who conquered the galaxy?'

'It is no reward at all,’ snarled Horus, hammering his hand into the side of the silver tank before him. The metal buckled and a hairline crack split the toughened glass under his assault. He could hear a desperate drumming from inside, and a hiss of escaping gas whined from the frosted panel of the tank.

'Look around you, Horus,’ said Sejanus. 'Do you think that the science of man alone could have created a being such as a primarch? If such technology existed, why not create a hundred Horuses, a thousand? No, a bargain was made that saw you emerge from its forg­ing. I know, for the masters of the warp are as much your father as the Emperor,’

'No!' shouted Horas. 'I won't believe you. The pri-marchs are my brothers, the Emperor's sons created from his own flesh and blood and each a part of him.'

'Each a part of him, yes, but where did such power come from? He bargained with the gods of the warp for a measure of their power. That is what he invested in you, not his paltry human power.'

The gods of the warp? What are you talking about, Sejanus?'

The entities whose realm is being destroyed by the Emperor,' said Sejanus. 'Intelligences, xenos creatures, gods? Does it matter what terminology we use for them? They have such incredible power that they might as well be gods by your reckoning. They command the secrets of life and death and all that lies between. Experience, change, war and decay, they are all are part of the end­less cycle of existence, and the gods of the warp hold dominion over them all. Their power flows through your veins and bestows incredible abilities upon you. The Emperor has long known of them and he came to them many centuries ago, offering friendship and devotion.'

'He would never do such a thing!' denied Horas.

'You underestimate his lust for power, my friend,’ said Sejanus as they made their way back towards the steps that led down to the laboratory floor. 'The gods of the warp are powerful, but they do not understand this material universe, and the Emperor was able to betray them, stealing away their power for himself. In creating you, he passed on but a tiny measure of that power.'

Horas felt his breath come in short, painful bursts. He wanted to deny Sejanus's words, but part of him knew that this was no lie. Like any man, his future was uncer­tain, but his past had always been his own. His glories and life had been forged with his own two hands, but even now, they were being stripped away from him by the Emperor's treachery.

'So we are tainted,’ whispered Horas. 'All of us.'

Tainted, no,’ said Sejanus, shaking his head. 'The power of the warp simply is. Used wisely and by a man of power it can be a weapon like no other. It can be mas­ tered and it can be a powerful tool for one with the will to use it,’

Then why did the Emperor not use it well?'

'Because he was weak,’ said Sejanus, leaning in close to Horas. 'Unlike you, he lacked the will to master it, and the gods of the warp do not take kindly to those who betray them. The Emperor had taken a measure of their power for himself, but they struck back at him,’

'How?'

You will see. With the power he stole from them, he was too powerful for them to attack directly, but they had foreseen a measure of his plans and they struck at what he needed most to realise those plans,’

The primarchs?'

The primarchs,’ agreed Sejanus, walking back down the length of walkway. Horas heard distant sirens blare and felt the air within the chamber become more agi­tated, as if a cold electric current whipped from molecule to molecule.

'What's going on?' he asked, as the sirens grew louder.

'Justice,’ said Sejanus.

The reflective surfaces of the tanks lit up as an actinic blue light appeared above them, and Horas looked up to see a blob of dirty light swirling into existence just below the ceiling. Like a miniature galaxy, it hung sus­pended above the silver incubation tanks, growing larger with every passing second. A powerful wind tugged at Horas and he hung onto the railing as a shrieking howl issued from the spreading vortex above him.

'What is that?' he shouted, working his way along the railing towards the stairs. You know what it is, Horas,’ said Sejanus.

'We have to get out of here,’

'It's too late for that,’ said Sejanus, taking his arm in an iron grip.

'Take your hand off me, Sejanus,’ warned Horus, 'or whatever your name is. I know you're not Sejanus, so you might as well stop pretending,’

Even as he spoke, he saw a group of armoured warriors rushing through the chamber's doorway towards them. There were six of them, each with the build of an Astartes, but without a suit of battle plate, they were less bulked out and gigantic. They wore fabulously ornate gold breastplates decorated with eagles and lightning bolts, and each wore a tall, peaked helm of bronze with a red, horsehair plume. Scarlet cloaks billowed behind them in the cyclone that swept through the chamber. Long spears with boltguns slung beneath long, crackling blades were aimed at him, and he instantly recognised the warriors for what they were – the Custodian Guard, the Praetorians of the Emperor himself.

'Halt, fiends and face thy judgement!' shouted the lead warrior, aiming his guardian spear at Horus's heart. Though the warrior wore an enclosing helm, Horus would have recognised his eyes and that voice any­where.

Valdor!' cried Horus. 'Constantin Valdor. It's me, it's Horus,’

'Be silent!' shouted Valdor. 'End this foul conjuration now!'

Horus looked up at the ceiling, feeling the power con­tained within that swirling maelstrom tugging at him like the call of a long lost friend. He forced its siren song from his mind, dropped to the floor of the chamber and took a step forward.

Pdpping blasts of light erupted from the Custodians' spears, and Horus was forced to his knees by the ham­mering impacts of their shells. The howling gale

swallowed the noise of the shots, and Horus cried out, not with pain, but with the knowledge that fellow war­riors of the Imperium had fired upon him.

More blasts struck him, tearing great chunks from his armour, but none was able to defeat its protection. The Custodians advanced in disciplined ranks, pouring their fire into him and keeping him pinned beneath its weight. Sejanus ducked behind the stairs, sparks and smoking chunks ripping from the metal as the explosive bolts tore through it.

Horus roared in anger and surged to his feet, all thoughts of restraint forgotten as he found himself at the centre of the deafening storm. A bolt clipped his gorget and almost spun him around, but it was not enough to stop him. He ripped the guardian spear from the nearest Custodian and smashed his skull to splinters with a sin­gle blow from his fist.

He reversed his grip on the spear and slashed the next Custodian from collarbone to groin, the two shorn halves swept up by the howling winds and vanishing into the crackling vortex. Another Custodian died as Horus rammed the spear through his chest and split him in two.

A blade lanced for his head, but he shattered it with a swipe of his fist and ripped the arm from his attacker with casual ease. Another Custodian died as Horus tore his head off in his mighty fist, blood gushing from the neck, as if from a geyser, as he tossed the severed head aside.

Only Valdor remained, and Horus snarled as he rounded on the Chief Custodian. A blaze of light erupted from the barrel of Valdor's guardian spear. Horus granted at the impacts and raised his fist to strike Valdor down, hearing metal squeal and tear as the force of the hurricane reaching from the vortex above finally achieved its goal.