On the way back to the Vengeful Spirit, Horus saw the Sons of Horus busily constructing fortifications. Their armor gleamed cold black and gold in the sunlight.
"Why is it only our men here? What are the World Eaters, Emperor's Children, and Death Guard doing?" Horus frowned, clearly displeased.
"The other Legions are all tied up because of their Primarchs." Aishmande finished speaking, his expression darkening as well.
"Lead the way. I'll see what's going on."
Those would probably be the words Horus regretted most that day.
The two of them first went to the Death Guard. Before they even got close, they caught a pungent stench, like a pair of filthy socks that had gone unwashed for thirty days, soaked in water, and left to rot for another half month.
They could hear the argument from far away.
"Mortarion, embrace the loving Father! The loving Father will give you everything." Typhon, captain of the Death Guard's First Company, stood there as foul-smelling fumes poured from the gaps in his Power Armour.
"Fine! Let your loving Father come out and defeat the Emperor, and then I'll believe you! Can it do that?!" the Death Guard Primarch Mortarion roared furiously.
"Why did you take them to Istvaan III without my permission?!"
Typhon said, "If they believe in the loving Father after they die, they can still gain eternal life! I'm helping them understand the loving Father!"
"Get out! I don't want to see you! Get out!"
"..."
After witnessing all this, Horus let out a long sigh, then turned and walked away.
"Phew... There really is nothing we can do about this. It's obvious that this was handled very badly."
"Angron is fine, at least, right? His men never disobey him when he takes action." Horus asked.
"Uh, Angron's men do obey him. It's just that he's not in a very good state of mind..."
As he spoke, they arrived at the World Eaters' camp.
"I hate this! I hate that it had to be me!"
"Why did those damned Xenos have to attack me?!"
"I hate this! Why did the Emperor stop me?! Aaaaaah!"
With every roar, Angron swung his fists, each blow accompanied by the World Eaters' anguished cries. Every charge of his was like an earthquake.
The World Eaters charged him in wave after wave, only to be punched back. Wounded World Eaters littered the ground.
Yet they still couldn't stop Angron's rampage. The sounds of bones breaking and muscles tearing rang out without pause.
"Primarch, you're the only one who can stop him now. What do you think?" Aishmande scratched his head awkwardly. After all, only a Primarch could stop a Primarch.
"Ah... Fulgrim should be all right, shouldn't he? He's usually the most reliable and level-headed."
Horus turned and headed toward the Emperor's Children.
"Maybe we shouldn't go and look. They really are busy..." Aishmande tried to stop Horus, but Horus shoved him aside.
"Being busy is no excuse not to help build fortifications! I only need obedience." Horus's anger continued to build. He felt that nothing should be going this wrong.
When they reached the Emperor's Children, they found a massive group party underway.
Bottles of super-dopamine hormones lay scattered everywhere. At the center of the party, a super pineal gland had even been hung up high. A crowd played games beneath it, and whoever won got to use the super pineal gland for a while.
"To Dick! Cheers!"
"Cheers! To the Primarch!"
The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and rotting food. Fulgrim lay naked on a huge cushion, reclining on his side with his head propped on one arm. His arm stretched out beyond the cushion, where the Emperor's Children knelt in reverence, like something out of a medieval painting.
Horus stared at it all without expression. If the loyalists came now, could they really hold them off?
"It's fine. The Word Bearers are still hiding in the shadows. When the time comes, we'll attack from both sides and wipe out three Legions in one fell swoop."
"Then we'll set our sights on Terra. It'll be a piece of cake!"
Horus took a deep breath and patted Aishmande, as if everything were under his control.
Just then, Abaddon came running over in a hurry and shouted,
"Warmaster, we have a problem!"
"The Word Bearers have been discovered!"
"They're fighting the Salamanders, Iron Hands, Raven Guard, and White Scars!"
???
"Why are the White Scars involved too? How were they discovered?" Horus asked, breathing hard, his eyes bloodshot.
"I heard Francis gave them information about the traitors."
"When the Iron Warriors were on their way here, they ran into the White Scars, who had just crushed a rebellion..." Abaddon trailed off.
Horus felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. He couldn't help taking two steps backward.
From turning Angron into such a wreck, to driving Fulgrim deeper into his desires, to letting the loyalists learn of his plans ahead of time—
Francis had been behind it all.
"Was the plan to rescue those loyalists from Istvaan III also something Francis prepared in advance?" Horus asked in a trembling voice. He didn't want to admit that Francis had done all this.
He looked so pure and innocent. How could he possibly...
"Yes. Erebus said that mad dog Leman Russ attacked them. They let it slip while they had the upper hand."
Abaddon's final words struck Horus's heart like a heavy hammer.
Horus's eyes split at the corners, and blood seeped from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth as he roared,
"You beast!"
"Francis, you beast! May you die horribly!"
"Order every Son of Horus to stop building fortifications! All forces, attack the Adeptus Mechanicus on Mars and capture Francis alive!"
His furious roar knocked every living creature within a hundred meters unconscious.
At that moment, Horus didn't want to deal with them anymore. Even if he had to go alone, he would tear Francis apart!
Now, Horus hated Francis even more than he hated the Emperor!
Unfortunately, the rope always snapped at its weakest point.
Rumble—
A series of explosions erupted from the Vengeful Spirit.
"What's going on? Can anyone tell me what's going on now?" Horus roared, glaring around at everyone. Abaddon and the others could only shake their heads.
When they finally reached the scene, flames were shooting everywhere, lighting up the dark sky. Each burning ship looked like a falling star, trailing a long tail of fire.
Explosions rang out one after another, deafeningly loud. Amid the metallic groans of twisting metal, the wreckage of the ships lay scattered across the ground.
Horus grabbed a Tech-Priest and roared, "What's going on? How can a ship explode just from being maintained?! What's wrong with the Adeptus Mechanicus?!"
The Tech-Priest snapped back angrily, "I should be asking you that! Who's been dismantling the screws and parts from the machinery for no reason? You've only been here a short time, and machines have been breaking every day!"
"Was it your people deliberately breaking them? If not, were we deliberately breaking them?"
At that, Horus remembered how he'd told Francis and Fulgrim to build fortifications together.
He'd even asked Francis why his warriors liked wandering around so much. Francis had answered that it was a side effect of being confined to Terra for too long.
Horus felt a fire in his chest, ready to burst out. "Francis!!! You've ruined everything! Pfft—"
"Warmaster!"
"Warmaster! What's wrong?"
"Warmaster! Don't scare us!"
Aboard the Dictator-class battleship.
"Hm? Why do I have this uneasy feeling?" Francis's heart suddenly gave a few hard thumps.
As the daemon horde surged toward them like a tide, the Soul Drinkers fearlessly charged to meet it. They swung their Power Mauls and fought the daemons fiercely.
They used their Power Armour's mobility and the firepower of their bolters to strike the daemons with precision.
The daemons slashed at the Power Armour with their thick, hard claws. After a shrill metallic groan, they left a huge gash in the armor.
The largest daemon raised its bone scythe and swung it down, knocking dozens of Soul Drinkers back.
Just as it was about to charge onward, the Soul Drinkers parted to make way.
Then they saw Francis sitting there, dozens of enormous eyes across his body beginning to radiate a terrifying aura.
Voom—
Before it could dodge, a thick beam of Chaos energy slammed into it. The immense force sent it and the daemons behind it flying off the battleship.
At the same time, the Soul Drinkers raised their Power Shields and kept battering the daemons, driving them off the battleship.
"Phew... Being with Horus and the others was just too stifling. I feel much better now!"
Francis stood up, the aroma of roasting meat wafting from his body.
"Those are a Navigator's eyes, aren't they? Esteemed Primarch, where did you get them?"
Fabius Bile, who had been hiding behind them just moments ago, now stood before Francis, closely examining the biological armor on his body.
"Want to learn? I can teach you."
Francis's voice came from above him. Fabius looked up at him.
Before you continue