False believers

"Captain Dakan, these don't look like the Astra Militarum."

"Your Highness, these are Sisters of Battle, the fighting force of the Ecclesiarchy."

"Mm, understood."

Just before the group entered the Great Cathedral, something unexpected happened.

Though perhaps unexpected wasn't quite the word.

An exceedingly fragile defensive line appeared before them, so fragile that even a single Chaos Cultist could have broken through it.

The ragged faithful joined hands to bar their way, while more and more people came from every direction to stand before them.

They sang hymns in unison, denouncing the traitors before them.

Their bodies were so frail that a gust of wind seemed enough to topple them, so short that they did not even reach the Thunder Warriors' waists.

Yet they stopped the murderous-looking Thunder Warriors.

Captain Dakan found himself in a difficult position.

They had been branded traitors, and had killed plenty of the Imperial Armed Forces, but they had never opened fire on unarmed Imperial Citizens.

If Bona gave the order...

Before he could react, Bona had already walked up to the gathered faithful.

With their great enemy right before them, the faithful were terrified, but they still stubbornly blocked his path, chanting hymns in near-screams to drown out the fear in their hearts.

Several priests also waved their scepters vigorously, rallying the people.

"Do not fear, brave and dauntless faithful."

"Praise the immortal Emperor, guardian of the light. Guide us with your radiance."

"Emperor of mankind, who oversees the workings of all things, whose might is without equal, we beseech you: save us from the hands of our enemies and give us courage."

As more and more faithful gathered, their praises seemed to fill the world, drowning out everything else.

Then they vanished.

Bona used psyker power to strip them of their ability to speak, then looked at them.

"You say the Emperor is immortal, the master of all things, the one true god."

"Yet you are nothing but utter heretics. In my eyes, you are scarcely less heretical than those cultists who worship the Chaos Gods."

"Ten thousand years ago, the great Emperor walked among us. He taught us knowledge, gave us new life, and armed us."

"The Great Crusade he launched liberated world after world, turning humans from livestock at the mercy of xenos back into people."

"In that glorious age, no one worshipped the Emperor as a god, because the word god meant only the Chaos Gods. Anyone who called the great Emperor a god would have been beaten to death without hesitation."

"Now you have forgotten the mission His Majesty gave you, groveling for a god's arrival like those impotent cultists."

"Ten thousand years ago, the great Emperor made you stand tall, no longer believers in gods."

"Ten thousand years later, you have knelt again, worshipping gods once more."

"Now, you fools who have defied the great Emperor's will, get out of my way!"

Having finished, Bona released his psychic hold and strode forward.

But the believers remained silent. They were easily pushed aside in their dazed despair, and even after falling to the ground, they did not react.

Horus, who had been watching from a distance in anticipation of a good show, raised his eyebrows slightly.

It seemed he had underestimated Bona.

Bona entered the sacred hall. An aged, decaying figure knelt before him, with others kneeling at his side.

Ignoring the Imperial Bishop deep in devout prayer, he walked straight toward the holy relic.

It was a skeleton lying in a coffin, with precious silk beneath it and a ring of candles fueled by holy oil around it.

Its hands clasped an entirely ordinary scepter.

With every step closer, Bona felt his body grow heavier, and even began to feel a faint burning sensation.

Yet it felt very comfortable. At least it silenced the chaotic voices in his head.

He walked over and picked up the scepter. The burning sensation all but scorched his hand.

Bona stepped aside and tore down a curtain, wrapped the scepter in it, then slung it onto his back.

Meanwhile, the bishop's prayers grew increasingly fervent, until he began weeping.

Bona looked at the strange things flying around them. Had he not sensed the absence of psychic fluctuations from them, he would almost have thought those lunatics in the Ecclesiarchy had really made them from infant corpses.

Still, the things were truly hideous.

Horus entered as well. Bona walked over to the bishop and pressed his pistol against the back of the bishop's head.

"Put that... what was it again? Put her down."

Horus tossed the Sister of Battle onto the floor. She panted heavily, her face flushed red.

"Bishop Corleone! Take your gun away, you damned heretic!"

Bona gently raised his index finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

"There's just one thing I want to know right now. I hope you can answer it for me."

"It's a simple question, too. It should be basic knowledge for you."

"Now, tell me everything about the Ecclesiarchy."

"Start with its origins."

At first, Horus thought little of it. He thought the Ecclesiarchy might have been something his father left behind, another means of controlling the Imperium after taking his seat on the Golden Throne.

That was not entirely unacceptable.

But when the scribe spoke of the Emperor's Salvationist faction flourishing, even acquiring its own territories, institutions, and armed forces, Horus began to sense something was wrong.

When the account reached the Ecclesiarch's admission to the High Lords of Terra, Horus decided that every last High Lord of Terra was vermin.

Finally, when the scribe, under Bona's psychic coercion, cautiously brought up the Age of Apostasy, the anger on Horus's face was plain for all to see.

"If I've understood correctly..."

"Those bastards in the Ecclesiarchy, in a fit of idiocy, made a bunch of Chapters that had merely mutated because of Warp Storms go into the Eye of Terror, handing Chaos more troops. Is that right?"

Horus asked with a smile, though it twitched so badly that he seemed to be forcing his muscles into the expression.

The scribe nodded shakily, while the Sister of Battle and the gathered faithful stared at the scribe in disbelief.

"Bishop Corleone, this is heresy! He's fabricating history however he pleases!" the Sister shouted.

But the louder she shouted, the more clearly Bona sensed her fear.

Bishop Corleone did not answer. He simply knelt in silent prayer.

"Bishop Corleone!" the Sister of Battle shouted.

But the bishop did not answer.

At that moment, she hoped this was surely a false history fabricated by the Chaos Gods, yet this account made so much sense.

Bona, meanwhile, looked at Horus with a frown.

"The two of us need somewhere to talk."

"I agree."