Chapter Text
The bi-decennial meet-up was in the literal throne-room on Terra this time, on account of their Father being literally unable to leave the Golden Throne yet.
Ferrus looked up at the contraption, itching to look closer at the carvings, but the Emperor had warned them away from it, saying that touching it would force them to participate in holding up the Warp-construct he was holding up. That did result in Magnus asking a thousand questions, eye bright with wonder.
Still, something was up, and most of them kept half an eye on the door, and the other half on Sanguinius, who was not being subtle that something had him spooked.
Then Horus arrived, throwing open the doors with a flock of Custodes behind him. “We have a problem.” The Firstfound declared sharply, which seemed to confirm Sanguinius’ worst fears, by the look of things.
“What happened?” Still Baal’s Primarch was Princeps Primarchus.
“In short, I am pretty sure Konrad’s been Chaos-tainted.” The Primarch of the Lunar Wolves declared, to a wave of shock through the entire room. “He got stabbed by a… blade-arm of some Khorne-infected human. After that, he fled into the labyrinths on his ship, and keeps evading every group that went in to search for him.” He added. “One squad of his Night Lords however – I and Sevatar suspect they actually managed to corner him somehow – died by him. After that, we kept anyone out of the Labyrinths.”
Sanguinius cursed. “Davin, right?” Those two words send another wave of shock, because there was something going on here.
“Is there a way to undo that?” Jaghatai asked the pertinent question, looking up at their father. Ferrus had to give him props for being able to think, because he was still catching up.
“Is there?” Lorgar looked haunted, probably remembering all those of his Sons that had been fed to various meat-grinders within a few years of the Incidents because they were too corrupted. Rogal took a few steps to the side, standing beside their brother like a pillar.
“It depends on whether it’s already settled, or whether he’s still fighting.” The Emperor declared, leaning his head back some. “It feels like it is still the second, so I could save him.”
“Could?” Ferrus did note the word-choice there.
“We do need to be near one another, preferable within a few meters.” The man still on the throne explained. “I currently cannot leave this throne, or the constructs I have made until now will collapse, and we might well have a permanent warp-breach in this very room. While the constructs are something that I can simply make anew if need be, I cannot in good conscience risk a warp-breach in the palace, considering all the people that live here.”
“And we can’t exactly get Konrad here, if he’s willing to kill to stay up there.” Roboute pointed out the obvious. “We might lose one of us, considering his foresight, even if we find him before he falls to the demons. How long would it take for one of those to win?”
“It can happen in moments, if the Primarch falters just enough.” Sanguinius stated, sounding like he spoke from proverbial experience… and considering his tenseness, it probably was related to the Traitor’s Future rather than anything else.
Medusa’s Primarch flinched at that news.
“What would it take for you to be able to leave the throne?” Magnus asked.
“Someone would have to take my place, to hold onto what I’d made well enough to keep it from collapsing, but right now the strain would kill most other Psykers. If I had time, I could make the load easier, but Sanguinius is correct; it takes a moment for Konrad to falter to the point that he’s demon-possessed.”
“Most?” Prospero’s Primarch echoed. “Do I fall under that?”
That question shut everyone up.
“Magnus, if you cannot hold it, you will be killed, or driven mad.”
“Can, or can I not hold it for you?” The psyker ever competing with Malcador for place of second-strongest demanded. “Would I be able to hold it while you get to Konrad?”
No one dared speak.
“You should. But it will hurt.” The Emperor, shining with his power and the golden armor he wore, finally conceded. “You will have to hold, and resist demons trying to break it.”
“Well, I had practice with that feeling.” Their blood-red sibling declared, carefully getting up some steps. “Because of Konrad, even, so that’s just becoming a habit between the two of us. Let me tag in, Father.”
“I can help him, if need be.” Malcador had also been standing beside the throne, speaking up since Magnus had started his thousand questions. “We both know what kind of powerful demons would be needed to be a threat to a Primarch. You are needed to fix this, old friend.”
“I can stay here.” Ferrus offered, stepping forward. “We open a vox-channel, and I let you know if Magnus gives indications that he won’t be able to hold any longer.”
“If you are certain...”
“I am.”