Warhammer [416-418] (Patreon)

Chapter 416: The Lion Turns Old, the Sinner Luther

Ten thousand years ago, the Lion was a golden-haired man in his prime; now, ten thousand years later, he is completely white-haired. The Custodes present found it odd to see the Primarch so aged.

Why hadn't the Dark Angels placed their Primarch in stasis, like Ultramar did? Now, the Lion's physical age should be over fifty-five in human terms. Time hadn't stopped for him—it really had been ten thousand years.

He'd aged from thirty to over fifty, but that was no big issue. The Lion had received a special Primarch upgrade, and after merging with the Cosmic Beast, his condition would improve. He would regain the power of his youth.

"It's been ten thousand years! He's slept here since the end of the Great Heresy. Our gene-father has grown old," Azrael sighed.

The Lion's slumber inside the Rock was known only to successive Grand Masters; many outsiders had guessed, but all such speculation was brutally suppressed by the Dark Angels. Any who dared to probe their secrets were eliminated. That threat was once supreme—now, it seemed a joke. Today, the Dark Angels had been wiped out and forced to reveal even their deepest secrets!

Even the Fallen Angels they had worked so hard to capture were taken away by these invaders!

"This is definitely the First Primarch! My brothers, take Lord Lion El'Jonson and leave," Ultraman stepped forward, checked the unconscious Primarch, and nodded to several Custodes.

He didn't want to ask any more questions. These Dark Angels were nuts. The Ultramarines had done something similar, and at least prepared a safe place for their Primarch, ready for future resurrection. Not let their gene-father grow old and possibly die of old age.

These Dark Angels were seriously disturbed; the First Legion needed serious reformation.

Several Custodes produced a giant iron box, made specifically for the Primarch, to protect and carry him conveniently. They quickly moved together and placed the Lion inside.

"Why didn't you put him in a stasis field?" Ultraman asked curiously.

"We must protect the Primarch, but using stasis would likely reveal his presence. Can our Primarch really wake up?" Azrael replied.

He'd wondered the same when he first became Grand Master, but after more than ten thousand years, no one had bothered to prepare a stasis field. Now, the gene-father had become an old man.

"Of course! Don't worry—the Lion El'Jonson will soon awaken," Ultraman said.

His mission complete, it was time to leave. As for these Dark Watchers, their location would be reported to the Emperor. If the Emperor disapproved, Exterminatus could be ordered on the Rock.

"Wait, envoys of the Emperor! We have another prisoner for you to take. He is extremely important to the Lion El'Jonson," a Dark Watcher said.

"I've received no such order. The Emperor only told us to bring the First Primarch and all Dark Angels back to Holy Terra," a Custodian rejected.

"He is also a Dark Angel—the only one you missed in the Rock," the Watcher insisted.

"Who is it?" Ultraman asked.

If it were the old days, the Custodes would just finish off these small, hooded creatures after the mission. But now the Emperor was willing to negotiate with Xenos willing to cooperate, so he was curious who this special person was.

"No! Don't say his name, don't mention that sinner! He should be locked up here forever!" Azrael suddenly became agitated; even with all limbs cut off, he struggled to sit up, glaring furiously at the Watcher.

He knew exactly who they meant. He was indeed a Dark Angel—but the greatest sinner of all. He was unworthy to leave the Rock. Other Fallen might be forgiven, but not him!

"You're this generation's Azrael. Every Azrael torments Luther. But he was also a victim—he was misled by Chaos, but turned back in the end," a Watcher sighed.

Every Dark Angels Grand Master, the Supreme Grand Master, was titled Azrael. But this Azrael was unique. Caliban had three artifacts, one of which could travel through time. The destruction of Caliban had many causes—the main culprit was this Azrael before them.

It was a misunderstanding spanning ten thousand years! If Luther was guilty of unforgivable crimes, then what about you, who destroyed Caliban?

Ezekiel, the Librarian, knew the truth, but did not tell the Grand Master, fearing he couldn't handle it.

"Whatever the case, he betrayed the Primarch! Betrayed the Imperium! He alone is unworthy of the Lion's forgiveness," Azrael shouted.

"Are you talking about Luther? The Lion's right hand, the one he trusted most?" Ultraman asked.

Unlike the new Custodes, he came from ten thousand years ago and knew the history. Luther was vital to the Dark Angels, maintaining Caliban and supplying the Legion. He alone ensured the Lion could carry out the Great Crusade without worrying about logistics. When news came that he'd betrayed the Lion and caused his slumber, many in the Imperium couldn't believe it.

"If it's Luther, then he must be taken to Holy Terra. Once the Lion awakens, he'll face both the Lion and the Emperor's judgment," Ultraman said.

Azrael fell silent. If only judged by the Lion, he might forgive his subordinate. But if the Emperor and other Primarchs were involved, Luther was doomed.

"I agree."

"I wasn't asking for your opinion; it doesn't matter," Ultraman snorted and followed the Watcher to Luther's cell.

Inside, a 2.3-meter-tall Astartes was pulled from stasis by the Custodes.

Awakening, Luther shook his head. He'd been awakened, which meant a new Supreme Grand Master had been chosen. Another cycle—he'd be beaten and forced to repent again!

"My crimes will one day be forgiven by the Lion. I will never repent to you—only to him!"

Then Luther's eyes widened in shock at the golden-armored men before him.

This was not what he expected—many people instead of just the Grand Master. As a man from ten thousand years ago, he recognized the Custodes immediately.

He knew exactly what it meant for the Custodes to appear here. If the Lion had not returned, and only the Grand Master came, the First Legion's secrets were safe. But if the Custodes came, the Emperor knew, and the Imperium was ready to act.

His worst fear had come true. If his betrayal was pardoned by the Lion, that was an internal matter. But if it became an Imperial issue, it would be a massive stain on the Dark Angels—possibly leading to the Legion's erasure!

"You have no right to speak!" Ultraman knocked Luther out with a punch and dragged him away.

This time, the Custodes successfully left the Rock, setting course for Holy Terra via the Eldar Webway.

…

Months later, they returned, bringing the Dark Angels, the Fallen, the Lion El'Jonson, and Luther to the Emperor himself in the Imperial Palace.

Chapter 417: The Punishment of the Dark Angels

The Emperor sat high on the Golden Throne, with towering Custodes on guard. Nearly all the other Primarchs attended.

Ultraman gave a detailed report of the mission to the Emperor and the Primarchs.

"That's the situation, great Emperor. Please decide."

Rhodes sat off to the side, relishing this Dark Angels drama. Guilliman had wanted him to go, but Rhodes declined, saying his son was just born, and he had to stay home to raise him. After all, a father must personally educate his son.

A year had passed since cooperating with the Eldar. Rhodes' son was now a year old and had grown to the size of a normal child, already speaking fluently. As a super lifeform, he surpassed even the Primarchs.

Sometimes, Rhodes felt being too much of a genius robbed him of some joys of fatherhood.

Sitting beside Rhodes were Elena, Guilliman, Magnus, and Vulkan. Behind Elena stood Rhodes' son, Stark, who the Emperor had allowed to observe the proceedings.

Looking like a little adult, Stark sat beside his mother and whispered to Rhodes, "Father! These Dark Angels are seriously ill."

"Exactly. Don't mix with the First Legion; they're all a bit messed up," Rhodes replied.

"Rhodes, the First Legion is more like a special-ops group, not front-line fighters. Their unusual style is normal," Guilliman interjected.

"You can't teach the child that way, Rhodes. Telling him what's right or wrong up front will make him unable to judge for himself. My legion will bear this shadow, and Stark might grow up hating the Dark Angels."

"And you, Stark, learn to judge for yourself, don't be prejudiced."

"I understand, Uncle Guilliman."

At this time, the Emperor's Avatar spoke from the Golden Throne.

"I am aware of the Dark Watchers. They are not undead spawned after Caliban's destruction; they lived there long before, even predating humanity," the Emperor said.

He knew all about the Dark Angels' homeworld drama—both sides were at fault. In the past, he would have ordered Exterminatus and wiped out the Dark Angels with a thousand Custodes.

But after ten thousand years, he'd learned other methods. This matter should be handled by the Lion, his eldest son. It was also a chance to keep the Lion in check.

As the oldest and first Primarch, the Lion considered himself the eldest brother of all. The Emperor knew his son coveted the title of Warmaster immensely. When Horus was appointed, the Lion was furious—he believed it should have been his.

Though the Lion was the eldest, the Emperor knew he could never hand him the Warmaster's position—not even to Guilliman.

The Lion might be a great general, but not a qualified Warmaster. He could command a planet or sector, but not a grand crusade.

Ten thousand years ago, he gave the title to Horus, who betrayed him. Now, he'd given it to a new Primarch, not even his son. The Lion would definitely resist and might even fight Rhodes for it.

But Rhodes was far stronger, and if the Lion lost, his confidence would be shattered; he might never accept Rhodes' offer to become a super lifeform and awaken his god-essence.

Thus, the Emperor planned to let the Lion awaken with a sense of guilt.

"Yes, Emperor. I understand. What of the Dark Angels and the Fallen?" Ultraman asked.

"Guilliman, as Regent of the Imperium, and Rhodes, as Warmaster—you two share your opinions," the Emperor said.

"Father, I believe the Lion should handle his own Legion's problems," Guilliman said.

"I disagree. The Dark Angels have done much wrong. Though they are valiant, loyalty is the Astartes' duty. In capturing the Fallen and hiding secrets, they repeatedly betrayed the Imperium. Without punishment, it is hard to convince others," Rhodes argued.

You can't just smooth things over; there must be reward and punishment. The Dark Angels went too far. The Space Wolves could be reasoned with—they still had a sense of proportion. But the Dark Angels would shoot a friend of a hundred years to protect secrets, or even kill you to seize an artifact. These are things they really did.

"Rhodes, the First Legion should be left to their Primarch," Guilliman frowned.

He knew Rhodes was right, but also cared about his brother's feelings.

The Emperor nodded—he supported Rhodes. To rule well, one must be fair and just.

"Let's hear your proposal, Rhodes. How do you wish to punish the Dark Angels?" the Emperor asked.

"All Dark Angels who attacked the Custodes or my gene-sons should be healed, then sent to the Deathwatch for at least a hundred years of penal service. Only after making sufficient contributions can they apply to return. Until then, they must serve as Blackshields, with no Legion insignia—including their Grand Master," Rhodes said.

The Deathwatch, now a Legion-level force, still recruited from other Legions. They could absorb the Dark Angels without issue.

"And the Fallen?"

"Each Fallen must be judged to confirm they have not joined Chaos. The Lion will handle this after he awakens," Rhodes said.

"But Rhodes, if you do this, you'll break up the Dark Angels!" Magnus protested.

"Who says so? A Legion depends on its Primarch. As long as the Primarch and humanity remain, the Dark Angels will survive. If the Fallen are pardoned, they rejoin. As for successor Chapters—only Inner Circle members must serve in the Deathwatch; ordinary ones can return," Rhodes said.

"I agree. Let the Lion handle the Fallen, but all Dark Angels, especially the guilty, must serve one hundred years in the Deathwatch as Blackshields," the Emperor nodded.

This was a light sentence—if the Inquisition judged, they'd all go on penitence crusades! This way, the Imperium's dignity was preserved, but the punishment was not excessive. For Astartes, a hundred years wasn't long.

"One more thing—the Dark Angels must reveal all their secrets. Not to ordinary humans, but at least to all other Legions," Rhodes said.

If mortals knew, the Dark Angels' reputation would be ruined; so it would only be shared among the Astartes.

"Agreed. The Dark Angels claimed they had no secrets—let them have none," the Emperor said.

Chapter 418: The Emperor Scolds Luther, the Lion Awakens

After deciding the Dark Angels' fate, the Emperor personally met all thousands of captured Dark Angels. To maintain his dignity, he appeared via his avatar, a giant golden warrior wielding a greatsword, blocking the view of his decayed body on the Throne. This form matched his appearance in ancient records, far more imposing than the corpse on the Throne.

This not only preserved the Emperor's majesty but also inspired loyalty among Imperial citizens, who would spread tales of the Emperor alive and mighty on the Golden Throne.

The Dark Angels, now healed, knelt as soon as they saw the Emperor's avatar.

"Praise you, great Emperor, praise you," Azrael's voice trembled. The Emperor was truly alive, standing before them!

Azrael and all the Dark Angels bowed their heads in shame—they had attacked the Emperor's Custodes! Even if sentenced to penitence crusades or death, they had no complaints.

"Please forgive us, Emperor, forgive your Angels of Death."

Luther was the most emotional. As a man of ten thousand years ago, he had seen the Emperor in person—when the Emperor had come to Caliban to take the Lion, Luther had witnessed the Emperor's form. This golden giant was exactly the same, only ten times larger.

As an old-timer, Luther wasn't as religious as modern humanity—he respected, but did not blindly worship the Emperor, much like Rhodes.

"Emperor, can you rise from the Golden Throne now? You're stronger than ten thousand years ago," Luther said.

When the Heresy ended, Luther was already plotting against the Lion. The Emperor was rumored to be on the Throne then; he knew nothing of what came after. Could the Emperor have recovered? Was he an immortal psyker, even able to reconstitute from molecules?

"I've only recovered a little. The figure before you is my avatar; my real self is behind. Now, I will pronounce your sentences—do you accept?" the Emperor said coldly.

By his own judgment, Luther deserved a thousand deaths for his betrayal, which caused the Lion's ten-thousand-year slumber. But since he'd given the Lion the right to judge, he would keep his word.

"I am willing to repent, great Emperor. I was misled by Chaos, but did not fall—I turned back at the end," Luther pleaded.

"You were misled by Chaos, so you started a rebellion, destroyed a planet, and put my son—your gene-father and brother—to sleep for ten thousand years? If you'd just admitted it or even cursed me as a false Emperor and openly joined Chaos, I'd respect you more. But you try to defend yourself? You have no right!" the Emperor thundered, his psychic might crushing Luther to the floor.

Luther felt a mountain upon him—his innards hurt, his soul felt torn—this was the Emperor's fury. He truly felt unworthy.

Yes, the Emperor was right. How could turning back at the last minute erase his crimes? You can't kill someone and avoid punishment just by admitting fault. If you've erred, face it bravely—that's what a true warrior and Caliban knight should do.

Utterly ashamed, Luther choked out, "You're right, Emperor. I was wrong. I accept any punishment—even death."

"Hmph! I will not judge you yet. Stay kneeling until I say otherwise!" the Emperor barked.

After scolding Luther, the Emperor addressed the Dark Angels.

"You too have erred—betrayed the Imperium, shot your own brothers without hesitation. By my will, all should be executed; only death could atone. But now, the Imperium faces dire threats—worse than ten thousand years ago. I need you, so I will not send you on a pointless penitence crusade. You will serve in the Deathwatch as Blackshields, stripped of insignia. After a hundred years, you may reapply. Fight with all your strength; I will be watching," the Emperor decreed.

"Thank you for your mercy, great Emperor," all the Dark Angels bowed, banging their heads on the palace floor.

From today, they would rip off their insignias, erase all ties to their Chapter, and serve the Deathwatch, fighting against xenos, Chaos, and all enemies of mankind. Many resolved to die in the Deathwatch within a century, to atone.

The next day, the judgment was broadcast to all Imperial Legions.

Upon hearing, the Blood Angels, Ultramarines, Imperial Fists, Space Wolves, White Scars, Iron Hands, Raven Guard, Salamanders, and others condemned the Dark Angels. The Deathwatch assured them the Dark Angels would be put in the hardest, deadliest units.

With the trial ended, Rhodes, the Emperor, and the Primarchs began reviving the Lion.

Originally, reviving the Lion required soul-healing, which the Emperor had planned to attempt in a hundred years, with the help of the Eldar's God of Death. But now, with Isha and Rhodes, they could do it without Eldar aid.

"Begin. Let Isha restore his body first," Rhodes nodded to the Goddess of Life.

Isha smiled and infused the Lion with divine life energy, restoring his aged body and turning his hair gold once more.

With the Goddess present, bodily wounds were no concern. If not for the Golden Throne and the Dark King, the Emperor could have risen immediately.

"It's done. The rest is up to you," Isha said.

"Thank you, Goddess. Humanity will never forget your kindness," the Emperor said sincerely.

She had not only given the plague cure to the Eldar but also to humanity and other races—wherever Nurgle's plague appeared, she helped.

"Let's begin. Father, let's use our psychic powers to heal the Lion's soul, with the Cosmic Beast's order," Guilliman said.

"Yes, let's start. Rhodes, Elena, your psychic strength is enough—join in," the Emperor said.

Vulkan, Guilliman, Magnus, Rhodes, and Elena all channeled their psychic might to aid the Emperor in repairing the Lion's soul.

With the power of the Cosmic Beast, Primarchs, and the Emperor's golden might, the Lion's soul was slowly restored and even strengthened.

After a full day and night, the Lion's soul reached its best state.

"Rhodes, summon death zombies, and let him use death's power to revive the Lion," the Emperor ordered.

Only the final step remained—reviving the Lion in the spiritual realm. Rhodes summoned Sealizar, who injected gray-white death energy into the Lion, awakening his soul.

In the Lion's spirit world, he journeyed through a strange forest, encountering many things.

The Lion's eyelids fluttered, then opened. He sat up, dazed, rubbing his head and looking around.

Three unfamiliar people—one man, two women—stood nearby, along with his father and his brothers, both familiar and not.

Why familiar? They wore his brothers' faces, but their bodies didn't match. Since when was Vulkan just two meters tall? When did Guilliman shrink?

Suddenly, the Lion's eyes narrowed, then flared with rage. Like a waking lion, he pounced on Magnus, knocking him down and pounding his face.

"I'll kill you, Magnus!"

Magnus smiled wryly, dropping his defenses and letting the Lion pummel him bloody.

"Enough, Lion! Magnus was following my orders, infiltrating Chaos. He is not a traitor!" the Emperor's voice rang out.