On Terra.
Rogal Dorn, Primarch of the Imperial Fists, was in communication with the Word Bearers, Night Lords, Iron Warriors, Alpha Legion, Raven Guard, Iron Hands, and Salamanders.
"We've received word that Horus has betrayed the Imperium!"
"The Emperor has ordered us to destroy the traitors and bring Horus back to stand trial!"
The news sent the legions into an uproar.
"How is that possible? How could Horus betray the Imperium?"
"Exactly! He already had everything. What more could he want?"
"..."
They could hardly believe that the Imperium's Warmaster had betrayed it. What on earth had happened?
A few of the legions, however, didn't seem particularly surprised. If anything, they appeared rather unfazed.
Soon, they were shown footage from Isstvan III. Only then were they convinced that Horus had truly betrayed them.
Then Rogal Dorn continued.
"Ahem! Everyone, quiet down. I can confirm that it's true."
"Before we draw up a battle plan, there's one more thing you must remember."
"Do not harm Francis or his Soul Drinkers during the fighting. They're our own people, undercover with Horus."
"When the time comes, he'll help us from within and without, and we'll destroy the enemy!"
At that, the legions grew even more restless.
"Wasn't the 11th Legion wiped out?"
"Right! When did they reappear? Why haven't we seen them during the Great Crusade?"
"Dorn, tell us what's going on!"
The barrage of questions left them struggling to accept the news.
Once everyone had had time to absorb it, they began drawing up a series of plans.
After the first orbital bombardment, the Raven Guard, Iron Hands, and Salamanders would be the first to engage.
Then the Word Bearers, Night Lords, Iron Warriors, and Alpha Legion would charge in as the second wave.
Meanwhile, the Ultramarines, Blood Angels, and Dark Angels were already on their way back to reinforce them.
When the meeting ended,
Rogal Dorn turned to Leman Russ. "Don't worry. Eight legions against four. We have the advantage."
"Let's hope so. I feel like I've forgotten something important!"
"Francis seemed to say something else, but I can't remember what."
Leman Russ scratched his head frantically. He could tell it was very important, yet he couldn't recall a thing.
Meanwhile,
the Word Bearers, Night Lords, Iron Warriors, and Alpha Legion held a separate meeting.
"There's a traitor right beside the Warmaster! An entire Legion! Are they all idiots? How could they not see it?" The Iron Warriors' vox emitted a deep, rumbling growl.
"Didn't you Word Bearers ever try to corrupt them?" The Night Lords' feeble voice came through the vox.
"We've never even seen anyone from the 11th Legion! How the hell could we have corrupted them? The important thing now is to report this to the Warmaster!" Erebus's voice came through the vox.
"Obviously! If we don't report it, the Warmaster might—"
"..."
After a frank and friendly exchange, they ultimately decided that the Word Bearers would send the Warmaster all the information about the battle, including the fact that Francis was a traitor.
Erebus looked at the message before him and sighed. "The Warmaster is still fumbling around, and he hasn't even noticed the enemy right in front of him."
"Perhaps we should launch a true crusade in his place!"
Erebus's disappointment in Horus kept growing. He decided to talk to Lorgar, then send the message to the Warmaster.
Meanwhile, the Alpha Legion, which had remained silent until then, acted first. They sent a message to their hidden operatives on Isstvan V, telling them to inform the Soul Drinkers that their cover had been blown.
The message soon reached Sarpedon, Chief Librarian of the Soul Drinkers. He looked at the World Eater opposite him and asked, "Why are you telling us this?"
The other man said nothing. He simply turned and left.
After a brief moment of thought, Sarpedon decided he couldn't risk it being a lie. Gritting his teeth, he ran straight to where Francis was.
"What's your plan? Hurry up and tell me!" Fulgrim's eyes had clearly lit up.
"First, get rid of the silver sword in your hand."
Francis's words struck Fulgrim's heart like a heavy hammer.
"He'll never put down the silver sword! He can't resist the pleasure bestowed by the gods." Fulgrim's expression suddenly turned sinister as he let out a series of mocking chuckles.
"Mm. I know. He slaughtered all the Aeldari, didn't he? That upset your god, right? It's obvious you lot really like those aliens with long tails and four arms."
"Third brother, maybe you'll turn into one of them someday. Damn, you'd look hideous. Too hideous to look at."
Francis rubbed his chin. Fulgrim really would end up looking like that.
"No!!!"
"No! That's too ugly! I can't accept it!"
Fulgrim's face went deathly pale. He stared at his own body in panic.
He wasn't perfect enough yet. How could he let himself become ugly?
Francis slung an arm over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. "You and Ferrus Manus are very close, aren't you? I heard you even exchanged weapons."
Fulgrim whipped around, nearly colliding with him. Fortunately, Francis was quick enough to dodge.
"How do you know? Only our two legions were there. Who told you?" Fulgrim looked puzzled. Not many Emperor's Children had known what happened.
"Because just now, I saw a vision. I saw you personally kill Ferrus Manus here, using that very silver sword to cut off his head."
"Alas, how tragic."
As he spoke, Francis shook his head with deep regret.
"Impossible! He's my dearest friend, my brother in arms."
"Why would I kill him? Are you lying to me? Do you actually worship ■■■■? Are you trying to please it?"
Fulgrim trembled as he pointed at Francis. He couldn't believe he would kill Ferrus. How could he kill Ferrus?
He couldn't believe that he would kill the Ferrus Manus who had been by his side day after day. They had both been striving for perfection.
It had to be a lie! Francis was only toying with his feelings to please ■■■■!
Francis: "..."
If Francis had to choose someone to please, he'd rather please Gork and Mork. As for the one Fulgrim had mentioned—
Tsk.
"Of course you won't do it yourself. But the one inside the silver sword might." Francis's words burned themselves deep into Fulgrim's mind.
Fulgrim was thrown into turmoil. He was certain that the moment his will faltered, the other one would seize control of his body.
Then Francis drew what Fulgrim would look like after his ascension: a huge daemon with a purple serpentine tail, four arms, and bluish-green skin.
Fulgrim: "..."
He was nearly in tears over how ugly his future self looked. Compared with his current handsome appearance, the daemon Francis had drawn was hideous.
Seeing the look on Fulgrim's face, as if he'd just swallowed a fly, Francis continued. "Actually, you could go to the Aeldari. They have ways to resist temptation. If you learn their secret techniques..."
"Uh, but I've already destroyed many of their Maiden Worlds, and even drove off their old prophet." Fulgrim looked surprised. He hadn't expected those thin, bean-sprout-like aliens to be capable of that.
"..." Francis took a deep breath, trying to come up with another plan.
"Maybe toss it into Chaos. Or you could go into the Warp and throw a big orgy, turn into a daemon first, then come back and eat it. How about that?"
"Can't you freeload off a god? You know, get the blessings without giving up your soul."
"Or you could convert to another—"
Listening to these suggestions, Fulgrim's mind grew muddled. He could no longer tell what Francis even worshipped.
Until—
"Primarch, we have something extremely important to discuss with you. Come out, quick!" Sarpedon's urgent voice came from outside the door.
Before you continue