The Beginning of the Istvaan III Campaign

"Don't be afraid, with Angron and two Legions added, we can retreat safely even if things go south," Francis tried to persuade Leman Russ.

"Won't that be too dangerous? We still don't know who's involved in the rebellion."

"If everyone rebels, won't you be in great danger?"

Leman Russ didn't trust many people right now. Besides the Emperor, only Francis was worthy of his trust.

"..." Francis fell silent. "If everyone rebels, I'll persuade you to surrender then. No matter who wins, we'll be safe."

!!!

Leman Russ looked at him, his face pale, his fingers trembling. "You... you actually intend to rebel!"

Leman Russ's killing intent flared. His hand already reached for his great axe.

"How could that be! I only have the Emperor in my heart. I was just joking with you. Look how nervous you got."

Francis patted his shoulder. It was just scaremongering; how could everyone possibly betray them?

"That joke alone is enough for the Inquisition to arrest you!" Leman Russ finally breathed a sigh of relief. After all, Francis was unreliable.

However, his gene-tech was indeed hair-raising.

"Heh heh, the Inquisition? Aren't they just fast food delivered to our doorstep?" A shadow fell over Francis's face as he smiled excitedly.

Leman Russ: ...

Hiss!

The door opened, and the Space Wolves warriors saw Francis's smile and felt a chill run down their spines.

"Do you need something?" Leman Russ asked.

"Yes, Wolf King. We received orders from the Warmaster."

"He knows the Soul Drinkers Legion is with us and has ordered the Soul Drinkers Legion and their Primarch to rendezvous near Isstvan III."

"Three days have passed since the order was issued, and we haven't received a reply. We request the Wolf King's command."

The Space Wolves repeated the Warmaster's order like a recording.

Leman Russ looked at Francis, who nodded. Leman Russ pondered for a moment.

Then he said, "Go reply to the Warmaster. We will head to the vicinity of Isstvan III to rendezvous with them."

"Yes!"

The Space Wolves warrior immediately replied.

However, they didn't leave and stood there motionlessly.

This confused Leman Russ. "Why are you still standing here? Go prepare to depart."

Then, the Space Wolves bashfully parted, making way for Bjorn, the third company captain of the Space Wolves, to walk out.

He still had both arms, seemingly because the Thousand Sons Legion hadn't rebelled, so he hadn't lost his precious left arm!

He offered Francis his highest respects and presented him with some bottles and jars.

Francis: ???

Leman Russ: ???

"We are very grateful that you rescued our Primarch in the previous battle."

"These are some spoils of war we captured previously. We learned from the Soul Drinkers that you are quite interested in such things."

Francis looked at Leman Russ in surprise. The latter looked at him just as confusedly.

He took the items, which were labeled with names, and muttered, "Xenos: Normans, Warp Parasitic Xenos: Enslavors."

"Excellent, excellent! Hiss These are all treasures."

Who gives away alien body parts as gifts?

Leman Russ reached out to take them, but Francis stopped him and said arrogantly, "These are the children's tokens of appreciation. I must accept them. If you want them, get your own."

With that, Francis ran off, clutching the items.

Bjorn looked confused. "Primarch, what is he...?"

"Sigh~ Don't ask. Someone's probably going to suffer again. You should stay away from him in the future; he's a man-eater." Leman Russ covered his face in anguish. Fortunately, those people hadn't seen this.

After he finished giving his orders, the Space Wolves warriors also left.

Just as Leman Russ was about to zone out.

Suddenly.

A head poked in from outside the door. Francis said, "Remember to prepare plenty of anti-toxin gear. You'll be going to support the Astartes on Isstvan III then."

Leman Russ nodded. "Alright! But why not directly summon everyone to stop Horus on Isstvan III?"

"Sixth Brother, how can you be so un-sixth!"

"If you tell the other Primarchs now that Horus has rebelled, will they believe you? Do you think they'll listen to the Warmaster's orders or yours?"

"Or perhaps you think you have a good relationship with your other brothers? I recall you first with..."

Leman Russ immediately ran over and covered Francis's mouth, whispering, "Holy crap, how do you know everything? I believe you, okay?"

"Heh heh, believing is enough. That's the power of prophecy." With that, Francis ran off again.

When Leman Russ walked back, ready to space out again.

Francis poked his head out and said, "Oh right, you need to go to Istvaan V immediately after this to rendezvous with them, and then tell Ferrus Manus."

"Tell him what?" Leman Russ asked, annoyed that Francis always spoke in halves.

"Tell him it's not shameful to run if you can't win!" After saying that, Francis fled the scene once more.

Leman Russ: ??!

Meanwhile.

In the void near Istvaan III, aboard the Vengeful Spirit.

The pitch-black room was a mess, with shattered objects strewn everywhere, occasionally accompanied by grating sounds of teeth grinding.

"By calculation, you cannot win this war. Only by joining me can you win~"

"Hiss~ Come play~ There is no pain here~"

"Skull-offering thrones will grant you power~"

"Oh, come closer, my child, and I shall grant you eternal life~"

Whispers from the Warp were constantly eroding Horus's sanity.

Horus lay on the bed, curled into a ball, resisting the strange murmurs in his mind.

"Get out! All of you, get out!"

"I will not join you! Pant pant pant~"

"The power is mine! My soul is mine too!"

"The Imperium is mine too!"

"Pant pant pant~"

"I will slay the False Emperor!"

"And then I'll charge into the Warp and steal all your power!"

"Pant pant pant~"

Horus clutched his head in agony, hurling everything within reach away, roaring.

He even saw illusions, seeing Magnus sitting on the Emperor's throne, smiling at him.

He saw the Emperor looking kindly upon all his brothers except him.

"No, no, no!!"

"That's mine! That's mine!"

"Magnus doesn't deserve it!"

Horus roared in fury, tearing apart the alloy bed frame, destroying everything in the dark room, causing the entire battleship to tremble.

Outside, the Sons of Horus shivered, not understanding why.

Why had Horus's fits of madness become more frequent since leaving the Serpent Temple?

They couldn't comprehend it.

Until two hours later.

Screech~

The already warped and deformed door opened, and Horus calmly walked out.

There was no trace of the earlier commotion.

"How are things? When are the World Eaters arriving?" Horus walked ahead of them, slowly heading to the conference room.

"Just received word. Their Primarch seems to be having some issues, so they haven't decided when they'll arrive."

Hearing this answer, Horus clenched his fist tightly, then slammed it onto the table and roared.

"Useless! Absolutely useless! He should have been purged like those two Primarchs!"

Suddenly.

Horus paused, then sat down again and asked, "What about the Eleventh Primarch?"

"The Eleventh Primarch is with the Space Wolves. They have received their orders and are heading here immediately to rendezvous with us."

Not only that, but the Sons of Horus had also gathered information on Francis's recent activities.

When Horus saw Francis's obsession with gene-tech, his eyes narrowed as he pondered something.

All the Sons of Horus stood motionless, watching their Primarch, awaiting his next command.

"Perhaps Francis will agree to join us. He will understand the rot within the Imperium!"

"The False Emperor purged his own offspring. He will surely understand what I'm saying."

"As long as he knows the Warmaster's hypocritical goal, he will definitely join us."

Horus grew more excited the more he read. He was quite certain Francis was also dissatisfied with the Imperium.

Below, the Sons of Horus all shouted in unison, "For the Warmaster!"

"For the Warmaster!"

"For the Warmaster!"

On Mal Koya.

"Achoo!"

"Achoo! Who's thinking of me again? Are you cursing me in your heart?" Francis pointed at Angron, who was still sobbing nearby.

"I'm not, I'm just sad. Simply sad~" Angron sat in a corner, holding a small flower he'd somehow found, plucking its petals.

"Hold on for a moment, I have something big to tell you."

"What big thing?" Angron looked at him with watery eyes.

"Twelfth Brother, do you want to be the Warmaster?"