Davin. The emerald sphere stood in quiet contempt to the rest of the galaxy, an isolated ball of unnatural energy far away from the rest of the Imperium, leaning in the unnatural yawning chasm that was the destructive Maelstrom. It was a quiet world, brought to compliance by Horus himself and given as a fiefdom to Eugen Temba, a loyal and patriotic man from Terra itself. Roboute Guilliman couldn't quite imagine why of all worlds, did the truth - or at least Lorgar's truth - exist here.
Not even several systems away, Iron Warriors lay under siege, desperately fighting off a colossal Ork invasion with the rest of the Imperium watching in stunned awe as Perturabo raised his fleets and took to one of the largest battles against the greenskins since Ullanor. Yet, Perturabo was not here, not on nearby Golgotha, not on distant Badab, he was also going to Ultramar, and that worried Guilliman deeply, yet he did not show it. The Battle-King strode through the decks of Macragge's Honour - it was quiet, empty, even, for only five hundred of his sons traveled him, not even enough to ward off a potential boarding action by raiders should they slip past the monstrous amount of guns that the ship fielded. Not that it mattered to Roboute, he had the protection of his brother and his quiet brother's word that his home would be spared. They were honorable enough to keep that, at least.
A message comes in from the Chronicles of Ash, it wasn't much but it was to the point. "Brother, I shall meet you upon the surface of the Planet. I trust that you know that you must come alone, for now, otherwise I hope to see you soon." Lorgar would soon after make his way to the hanger, to the shuttle that would take him to where the Zenith of the Great Plan would occur.
Taking the trip as a chance to think, to contemplate he would look at what he was doing. We all knew what was about to happen, what we were about to do. Did we have any doubts? Any private, traitorous thoughts? Perhaps, but no one said a word. Not one single thing. Our part of the plan was coming to an end, far sooner than liked perhaps, but it would have to be enough.
Nearing the hanger Lorgar wondered, what could have been if perhaps he took the wrong lessons all those years ago. Soon a shuttle would leave for the planet, carrying only a Lorgar himself would forget and ignore those doubts. Now was not the time for weakness. It was the time for the Reaping. Every step on Davin would bolster his resolve until he would exude confidence that seemed unnatural, even for a Primarch.
A Stormbird broke from the shadow of Macragge's Honour, followed by a pair of Thunderhawks. On one, Guilliman sat in his full battle-armor, contemplative. His sons carried no oaths of moment, because he believed there would be no violence, yet his sword was at his belt and his gauntlets powered - the aura that seemed to ooze from Davin was... odd... to say the least.
A terrible power lay dormant here, the violent vortex that lay just outside the viewing port made it clear enough that he was going to see something that may change the course of the Imperium entirely. Or, perhaps, Lorgar's madness had truly gone to him. Not making any physical motion, he signaled to his bodyguards to stay at arms, and not relax, for they entered a territory as treacherous as any. His mind drifted back to the report Horus made of Davin, of the primitive but otherwise harmless Serpent Priests who acted as elders for the various tribes, and their ease at accepting the rule of the Imperium, yet not the Truth. It was partially why Eugen Temba's fortress was on Davin's moon.
Why wasn't Temba greeting them, where were the Imperial forces stationed there? Logic drove him to believe Temba would've been called to assist in the defense of the region, yet, the moon seemed oddly green. His Stormbird landed in a guttural roar as it took to the ground, the massive doors sliding over as Guilliman strode out, eight of his bodyguards marching in perfect formation.
Appearing from seemingly nowhere Lorgar would smile, gone was any uncertainty, gone was the quiet falter in his steps that plagued him when the issues of traitorous actions being brought to light, and in the place stood a Primarch, one who would, without doubt, march into his enemies' fortress with no Arms and Armor, and laugh as they failed to stop him. Strangely enough, he is only equipped in the barest armor, and with him is Illuminarum. As long as an Astartes warrior, it was a formidable weapon that was perfectly balanced for Lorgar's strength and size.
"Welcome brother, to Davin," Lorgar says
Guilliman looked at him, concern creasing his face. It was perfectly adjusted though, a feint to cover his genuine unease. "Why Davin, brother? This was one of Horus' worlds. It brings back memories."
Broken bones, a burnt wolf pelt, life-blood oozing across cracked marble, a shattered sword, a dying star. He remembers that image all too well.
Lorgar smiles, "because this is where I showed the truth to our Brother, before Ullanor. It will allow me to show you easier than anywhere else in the galaxy. It is also, the safest." He explains before motioning to him and his guards to follow, "Come, the Hour comes and we do not wish to be late."
"Horus knew?" Roboute went to follow, not hesitating, but he turned to his guards as his face hardened back to a cool impassiveness. "Why did Horus not tell us, tell us all?"
"Because he saw hope because he wanted to stop it because dead men tell no tales." Lorgar explains, "After all, is it impossible for the dead to tell the truth of the matter? Or have you been hiding something from the rest of us?" He finishes rhetorically
"You're accusing the Emperor of murdering Horus to keep him silent, brother. This is a dangerous line of thinking." Yet Roboute could not do anything except speak with a tinge of anger, for part him doubted their Father, now, after all this.
Moving forward still he speaks. "Is it murder if you break a tool that was shoddy, to begin with? Is it a crime to think differently from a man who has made many mistakes throughout the years? Tell me, do you remember Angron? If Magnus saved him, why had the Emperor not offered his help, or care beyond seeing his defective pawn was still useful and far easier to dispose of when the time came."
"The Emperor means to end our reliance on the Warp, to secure the Imperium away from the Immaterium and advance all of humanity once the Great Crusade is over. That is what he told me." Roboute furrowed his brow, doubt following his thoughts. "I do not believe he views us as tools, Lorgar."
"That is perfectly a reasonable goal, for anyone else. Tell me when was the last time any of us did not listen to his order to go forth. When I went to you that day, did we not talk about what would come after? Did we not speak of what we would build together as a family, only for the Custodes to try to kill us, for having a hope of a future where we can create something wonderful? If his goal was to secure the Imperium from the Warp, why does he himself hideaway soon after declaring that Horus was to be forgotten, abandoned, and his body disappearing soon after as if cleaning up a crime."
"Horus burned atop a pyre, he is ash. There is no mystery to that. As to the Custodes..." Roboute paused. "Valdor had always seemed hot-headed, so quick to follow orders to a line like brother Rogal - it would not surprise me that they had acted on the same vague decree that Lion acts on now." Guilliman turned and looked to the distance, his fist tightening. "What are you trying to prove, brother? That the Emperor wants us all dead? If so, you would be buried beneath Monarchia at His command, yet, here you stand."
"The Ashes were Stolen, it was reported to me by my most zealous sons, and it was the Custodes who stole the ashes away. As for me standing here alive it's simple. Why kill that which still has use, I am playing my part in the ritual after all, do you think I am escorting you to a trial? You will die, there will be no salvation for the 500 worlds and the galaxy... the Galaxy in Flames. Just as I foresaw. Just as I told Horus. Just as you deny the truth and will want to go through with this farce." Moving onwards he adds one last bit, "We are almost there."
To Lorgar's surprise, or perhaps he saw it coming, the force of a fist driven by someone who went from concern or maybe a passive weariness to blinding rage struck him. Roboute was relentless in his assault, sending another punch in a sharp uppercut with the intent to catch Lorgar on the chin - any other human would've simply been decapitated with the force, Lorgar would be fortunate to escape with a broken jaw - and send him flying, turning to his bodyguards. "My sons, signal the ship, we're leaving." The same coolness followed, yet he looked furious, the Avenging Son had enough.
A rasping laughter echoes around the group. "If you leave, Macragge will burn. If you leave you will be executed by the Malcador. There is no harm in gathering proof of my lies and madness if you judge my proof as nothing but a mistake. After all, will Malcador not appreciate proof of your innocence? That this was all a mistake by the clearly mad, insane, broken Lorgar?" Pointing towards the group's former destination, he laughs again, "Leave me here, I am beaten, broken, leave your sons to stop me if you wish, to kill me should I try anything." Lorgar's words are barely understandable due to his jaw being broken, but the general gist can be understood, if the person hearing them cared enough to make them out.
Guilliman turned back around, his power-fist glowing with white lightning. "Lorgar of Colchis. You may consider the following. One: I entirely withdraw my previous regret of burning Monarchia. It will never be made again. You and your entire Legion of motherless bastards have lost their humanity, their place in the Imperium, and any seat at any table that the Emperor may call a council. Two: you are no longer any brother of mine. I will kill you, and I will hurl your toxic corpse into hell's mouth." He made a poetic gesture of looking at the Maelstrom, before marching forward and grabbing Lorgar with his unpowered hand, raising his fist again before sending it flying, a battering ram of energy into Lorgar's chest, should it hit, it would send him flying back again.
A peal of Dark laughter leaves Lorgar's mouth as Guilliman says this. "So you have chosen to die in ignorance. So be it Guilliman. Know this! What will come to pass is no longer war! It is an endless sacrifice in His name. " And with a movement Lorgar smiles, sadness glints in his eyes as he is sent flying away by his brother's fist.
"What did you tell the Lion." Guilliman strode over, aiming to backhand him should Lorgar attempt to rise, the rest of the Invictus Guard were quickly moving to form a cordon and begin signaling Macragge's Honour to begin moving, while another essentially ran to the gunships landed not far away. "What poison did you seed into his mind to bring him as an executioner to my world, why did Father not kill you then and there, over Terra? Your lies end here, but you can do one good thing in your miserable life and tell me, why?"
"I told you where to find the Truth, and never once have I lied. Because I was sent to kill the 500 worlds, my father himself, I told Lion the Emperor's decree, the one he gave me himself. Did I not try to warn you Guilliman, did I not tell you to bring what you could? I tried to save you brother, to do everything I could to save you, but time and time again you have to seem... you seem to have forgotten the truth of the matter. So..." he smiles as he says the next part. "So come get me, Lorgar, Bearer of the Word." With that he moves and Lorgar manages to go for a punch which would open up Guilliman for a follow-up, should it hit.
Ceramite buckles as Guilliman is struck in the chest, for even a relatively weak primarch like Lorgar could throw a punch, causing Guilliman to stumble, who stepped back. "This is not the Emperor's decree, none of this, you lied, the Lion lied. I should've never trusted that Calibanite savage." Spitting blood, Roboute charged forward, aiming to grab Lorgar and put him in a hold, should Lorgar fail to break it, Guilliman spared him only a brief glance. "Even if your entire Legion of cowards and paupers come down to fight me, I will kill every. Single. One. I will kill you, I will kill that snake Erebus, I will wring Kor Phaeron's neck until he is gore on that excuse he calls a throne. I will destroy the Word Bearers and stamp your Legion into dust." With that, he would put Lorgar's back over his knee, kicking with the force to make even a spectator wince.
Lorgar barely manages to break free before the Primarch could feel the hardness of his brother's knee. Although the attack itself would still land, it wouldn't land as hard as it could have. Whether from pain or genuine laughter is yet to be seen. "I was going to... I was going to bury you next to your Father, your real father, and not the monster that calls itself your creator. But, I guess it is too late. The Galaxy will never believe you now Guilliman, why would they believe the man who killed his brother and declared open revolt after all?" Taking another second to speak he continues "You've lost Guilliman, *Ultramar burns, the 500 worlds are doomed, and... your jewel will be ash. As we speak, Macragge Burns" letting out laughter, he feints another punch aimed at Guilliman's face only for his target being the Ultramarines Father's leg. Using the hit as a distraction he Runs, with a limp, towards his original destination in mind, using the ultramarines in his way as a shield or weapon, even though his own weapon has yet to be drawn.
The other members of the Invictus Guard leveled boltguns, firing on Lorgar without respite as Guilliman snarled, but thicker plate around the leg prevented a serious fracture and it meant he could run after the Urizen. "Don't run from me, snake! This planet will be your tomb!" He stopped his sons with a sharp hand gesture. "Return to the ship, make for Macragge, warn them, Marius Gage is to lead the XIII Legion." Before any could protest, he silenced them. "Courage and Honour, my sons, you march for Macragge." With that, they departed, running for the gunships that hastily took off as Roboute took off after his prey proper.
The game of cat and mouse would continue as Lorgar continued his run towards his destination. The Temple of the Serpent Lodge, which was a massive building called the Delphos located inside a great Crater. As Guilliman would catch up to Lorgar at last right outside of the temple. Guilliman gave him no respite, as soon as they reached the temple the master of the Ultramarines had his sword drawn, thrusting towards a gap in the battle armour which Lorgar wears, before revealing it to be a feint and sending his powerfist into Lorgar's side, aiming to wind and then headbutt him. Lorgar seemingly falls for the feint and is hit by both hits, after attempting to take a few steps back as well as trying to refocus himself.
Roboute didn't relent, aiming to kick him into the stairs, or better yet, the door entering the Delphos. "Fortunate you picked out a tomb for yourself so I didn't have to, bastard." His voice was ice-cold, his rage frozen on his face as he strode forward. Above and in orbit, Macragge's Honour was no doubt firing upon the rest of the Word Bearer fleet as it tried to flee.
Surprisingly, the Word Bearers would not be trying to destroy the ship, but instead drive it off away from the planet. Drakus Gorod, who had been master of the ship in Guilliman's absence, and commander of the Invictus Guard, would refuse to leave, charging headlong into the Word Bearer fleet, all guns roaring as they obliterated smaller vessels, sending the various support vessels scattering as the guns of Macragge's Honour left no room to bargain, no room to hesitate. What Lorgar didn't know, is that two-hundred of the Ultramarines on board the ship would actually teleport to the Chronicle of Ashes, a monstrously excessively-sized kill-team sent to hunt down and eliminate all officers of the Word Bearers.
In space the Ultramarine's Hunt would work, to an extent. Upon boarding the Chronicles of Ash several Word Bearer Companies would make their way into the Macragge's Honour to capture since it gave up the chance to retreat seemingly. However, one force would make their way onto the Chronicles in this period. The company would be lead by Argel Tal and the Serrated Sun Chapter. Meanwhile back within the temple of the Serpent.
Lorgar himself however would be continuing the fight. He would draw it out as much as possible, luring Guilliman further in, more and more until... finally... they would reach the center of the temple, where the boundaries between the Materium and the Immaterium were at their thinnest.
Guilliman, meanwhile, was merciless in his assaults, punches striking and shattering bones, until they reached the temple's heart, where a colossal pool that swam with the energies of the Warp (represented as serpents on stone carvings) laid bare, the various temple priests scattered as they saw the two primarchs fighting. Guilliman's fists were stained with blood by this point, and he had shut off the power in them, instead simply opting to break Lorgar apart with his bare hands as his sword was long discarded. Reaching forward, he attempted to grab Lorgar by the head and hurl him into the pool. "It would be quite ironic that a piece of river scum like you died from drowning." He added, rage unshackled.
"Ah, sweet irony indeed brother. But, it is not me dying tonight, after all this, I still have hope for you. After all, you are my brother." Smiling Lorgar using strength and speed he wasn't showing before would grab Guilliman's hand and use his higher position to throw Roboute into the mud. While doing that he would say "All I wanted was to show you the Truth brother..."
Crashing into the water, Roboute yelled in surprise as he fell, the wind being knocked from him as his armor whirred, motors and cabling snapping in some areas from the sheer air and sudden and violent crash into the ground. "Your truth - it is a lie." Still despite the grotesque fall, and the sound of broken bones, Roboute Guilliman stood again, even in the water as it coiled around them both, before going to charge Lorgar and grab him by the throat.
"Then it is a lie I choose to believe of my own will," Lorgar says before meeting Guilliman's charge with a tackle of his own. Bringing them both to the Primordial Mud.
Roboute fell, overpowered easily by the superior strength, but he didn't dare let himself fall under, instead of attempting to roll them over and pin Lorgar to the bottom of the ooze, to submerge his head entirely and strangle him like Guilliman was a gladiator and Lorgar an emperor of old Terran legend. He did not hear the death cries of his sons as possessed swarmed Macragge's Honor, how a raging Argel Tal decapitated Drakus Gorod as he drove his spear through the Blessed Lady's heart, killing her again. Only four Ultramarines would survive of the total force of five hundred, and the Honour would be forced, by both overwhelming fire, and her own commander, to crash into Davin's moon, a last cry of defiance saw it's massive prow shear a Word Bearer battle barge in half. In the Delphos, Guilliman, should he fail to try to drown his brother, would tuck his legs to the best of his ability and try to throw Lorgar off him.
Lorgar would manage to break free of the hold Guilliman has over him. Rolling to do the same to his brother, he would end up being thrown away from his brother. Crashing into the ground he would quickly roll over to meet Guilliman's next attack with one of his own, hoping to cripple his brother's ability to move.
Collapsing, beaten, his wounds overwhelming him, Guilliman was down on his knees, holding himself aloft with his arms as he tried to push himself up, but alas, the wounds destroyed his legs, he had fallen, and would not be able to get up under his own strength as his power armor died, cut power cables fizzling out as cracked ceramite and blood pooled around him.
"It didn't have to end this way... we could have worked together, we could have done so much... together." Lorgar Sits down, sadly looking at his dying brother. "Now we have to do this the hard way. I want you to know brother, that I never wanted any of this, I never wanted to hurt you or any of our brothers. But... Fate is a cruel thing." He sighs before turning to the now returning priests. "Proceed with the Ritual, the Hour of Truth approaches. Should anything happen I will defend you, stop the ritual, and die."
The priests did not hesitate, one bringing forth the instrument that will seal Roboute's fate, a dagger carved with a stony, flint-like blade. The Avenging Son spat blood and acid at Lorgar as the mortals swarmed him, breaking his ability to move with various terrible implements that trapped him in his power armor as the ritual's physical elements began. Dark chanting filled the temple, the very fabric of reality would break and tear and scream at every word said, every dark chant completed, every dark mark carved into the skin. Soon, the temple shook and in a single dark flash, the dead Guilliman disappeared. In his place would be a fully healed version of the Primarch. But, after a short deal of testing from Lorgar and the priests they came to a single conclusion.
The ritual failed, or rather, it backfired somehow. Guilliman had returned from the dead, this is true. But what was there, what had taken his place, was a mindless husk of the primarch. The body was there, the flesh was willing, but there was something missing. There was no spirit so to speak. Guilliman had turned into a lobotomized, mindless husk. While this would still prove to be useful in the grand scheme of things, Lorgar would feel a piece of him darken. His brother was dead at his own hands, in his place was the undead mindless body of his brother, it would not be Guilliman, nor could it ever be any more a Primarch than a man could be, and so Lorgar wept for his brother.
