Three days later, inside an Ork warship.
Francis stood before a gigantic green containment tank, repeatedly recalling what he had said to Kelbor earlier.
"Emperor, please remember how good I've been."
"For your sake, I've said far too many things I didn't mean. Deep down, I'm just a conservative technology researcher."
Francis sighed. He really had sacrificed too much.
Kelbor walked in from outside and heard Francis muttering to himself. He immediately asked, "Brother, is this giving you a hard time?"
"After all, Ork genes are extremely unstable. They're more like a fungus."
That was right.
Over the past three days, Francis had been modifying Ork genes to create Ork arms.
There had, however, been a little hiccup along the way.
Because of the Orks' powerful regenerative abilities, a single Ork arm would quickly grow into a complete Ork embryo all by itself.
Even when combined with other genes, it would only create a new kind of Ork.
So Francis had called Kelbor over to help, since Kelbor had been studying Ork technology. Together, they held a proper technical discussion.
"Yes, the initial approach really wasn't right. This time, by drawing on the principles behind Servitors, we might be able to make biomechanical arms to assist with work."
Francis rubbed his chin as he looked at the bag-shaped Ork creature in the tank, which resembled a glove with an attached arm.
Its broad, two-fingered hands had mutated from the Orks' arms. Its legs had softened and mutated into tentacles wrapped around the upper arms, holding them in place.
A protrusion resembling an Ork face had grown on the forearm. Inside was a lobotomized Ork brain, its self-awareness removed and replaced by countless mechanical chips and biological tendrils.
When someone inserted an arm into the creature, its tendrils would connect to the wearer's neural network.
The remaining Ork brain would serve as a secondary brain, assisting the wearer in using Ork technology.
"This is art! Brother, are you really sure you won't join the Adeptus Mechanicus?"
"I can set up a gene technology department just for you."
Kelbor came over to Francis in a few strides. Gazing at the bag-shaped creature in the tank, he couldn't help but marvel. "What are you going to call this new life-form?"
"Heh, let's call it 'Orkbrain.'"
"It still has flaws. We can't mass-produce it yet."
Francis patted Kelbor, then continued recording his findings and preserving the creature's genetic sequence.
"Besides, it has a very short lifespan. I still have to make each one myself, since the mutations aren't very heritable."
Seeing how meticulous Francis was, Kelbor fell silent. He had never met such a cautious researcher before.
Suddenly,
Francis blurted out, "Brother, how about we become sworn brothers?"
Kelbor: ???
Outside the Ork warship.
"Why haven't they come out yet? The battleship's almost repaired, so why are they still on the Ork ship?" Magnus was completely baffled.
He couldn't understand why Francis was willing to spend time with that bunch of metal lumps.
"It was the Adeptus Mechanicus who started all this that day. I don't know what Francis said to them, but somehow he actually got them to help repair our battleship."
A trace of weariness showed on Leman Russ's stubbled face.
Francis used to take him along everywhere. Who knew that once they got to Prospero, he'd stop bringing him along to anything?
People really did forget their old friends once they found new ones.
Even the fact that Horus had been corrupted was something Magnus had been going on about for the past two days, pacing back and forth.
He kept asking what they should do. If he knew what to do, he wouldn't be standing here waiting for Francis.
Although he had already sent people to Terra to deliver the news,
no one knew how things would turn out.
In the Warp, a small battleship piloted by the Space Wolves circled through a vortex of energy.
"What do we do? It looks like we're trapped here." Several Astartes turned to the Librarian behind them.
"The Primarch's orders are clear: we must complete the mission as quickly as possible!"
"But under these circumstances, we clearly can't." The Librarian's answer made everyone lower their heads.
There was a snap.
They looked up and saw the Librarian inside the deck's protective barrier.
"What are you doing? Get back here! We're still in the Warp!"
"You'll die if you go out there!"
"Don't do anything foolish! We can still get out!"
They hurried to the control panel, repeatedly pressing the button to open the barrier.
Unfortunately, the Geller Field around the deck was in the middle of shutting down completely.
The system wouldn't let them turn it back on.
The Librarian saluted in the direction of the Imperium, then in the direction of the Primarch, and finally toward his brothers.
With a hiss, the field around the deck shut off. The Librarian stood alone on the deck as his body visibly began to rot and mutate.
Even with half his face already rotten, the Librarian still shouted his battle cry.
"For Russ and the Allfather!"
Then he leaped off the deck and unleashed his psychic power with all his might, until a thunderous explosion rang out!
The Librarian's self-destruction triggered a psychic storm that instantly blasted the battleship out of the energy vortex.
Once again, the Space Wolves had upheld their promise to the Primarch.
But some force seemed to be affecting them, and they still couldn't escape the Warp.
Then they saw a heart, beating and pulsing, floating in the Warp.
A deep-seated dread in their souls made them unwilling to stay there.
Unfortunately, an invisible force crushed them utterly, and their scarlet blood became nourishment for the beating heart.
As the heart beat faster and faster, it suddenly burst apart!
A towering figure emerged from within—Horus!
An invisible pressure swirled around him, a terrifying aura released by the Chaos power coursing through his body.
The Chaos creatures around him felt awe and fear, as though he had become the undisputed ruler of this realm.
After falling to Chaos, Horus's appearance had changed dramatically.
He was no longer the loyal Warmaster he had once been.
Baptized by the power of Chaos, his frame had grown even more massive. His muscles were sharply defined, radiating an arrogant, overwhelming might.
The dark power of Chaos had ravaged his skin, turning it a deep gray-black, as if it had merged with the backdrop of the Warp.
His head, once the glorious symbol of a warrior of the Imperium of Man, had now been remade by the power of Chaos.
His eyes glimmered with an uncanny light, proof that the fires of Chaos were burning deep within his soul. They revealed a profound, unfathomable intelligence—and madness.
His armor, once a masterwork of the Imperium of Man, had been empowered by Chaos, making it tougher and imbued with an evil aura.
Countless runes and designs representing the power of Chaos were inlaid across the armor. They flickered as Horus moved through the Warp, as if rejoicing at his arrival.
His weapons, the great hammer Worldbreaker and the power claw Talon of Horus, had become even sharper and more destructive under the influence of Chaos, as though they could tear through anything in his path.
"I've told you over and over: I will not join you."
"I will give humanity a new beginning!"
"I will conquer this realm, so I will never join you."
The corrupted Horus stood there, speaking to someone no one could see. The only thing anyone knew was that he was incredibly powerful now!
So powerful that Horus believed he could defeat the Emperor.
Four different surges of energy rushed toward Horus, without any regard for whether he could withstand their power.
Countless psychic storms erupted in the Warp, completely cutting off all those who might have entered.
Strange voices filled the Warp, seeming to celebrate something.
Then the storm dissipated.
Horus had vanished from the Warp.
Meanwhile,
On Davin, outside the Serpent Lodge.
"Damn Erebus! It's been days. Why hasn't the Primarch woken up yet?"
"What are you trying to do?"
"Are you trying to start a war between the Legions?"
Abaddon angrily seized Erebus by the collar, glaring at him with a vicious look.
"I told you, the Warmaster's condition is serious. He needs more time."
"You can all see that the Warmaster's presence is growing stronger. That means he's almost recovered!"
Erebus of the Word Bearers kept trying to explain.
Unfortunately, the four of them weren't buying it. They were gradually closing in around Erebus.
Erebus tightened his grip on his power maul, as though they were about to fight for real. He was sure that if he used the power of Chaos, he could get away unscathed.
Just then, familiar yet unfamiliar footsteps sounded behind them.
All four of them stiffened, their eyes lighting up with joy.
"It's the Primarch! The Primarch is standing!"
"That's right, it has to be the Primarch!"
"Emperor, thank you! The Primarch's finally recovered!"
"Primarch! Sob..."
When the four of them finally turned around, confusion flickered in their eyes.
The ominous aura surrounding the figure felt unfamiliar. And the power he radiated was so immense, it seemed like something they had only ever seen in the Emperor.
Was the man standing before them really the Primarch—Horus?
Then—
"I'm back, my sons."
His voice, infused with the power of Chaos, made them immediately drop to one knee and bow their heads.
Only Erebus of the Word Bearers remained standing there, smiling. It was as though he were declaring that he and Horus stood as equals.
Unfortunately, Horus didn't see it that way.
Before you continue