The halls of the Imperial Palace shook with heavy bombardment as the Emperor and Horus stood over the large holo-slate that showed the Imperial Palace and the locations of both the defenders and the attackers.

“Here,” said the Emperor, “There’s a break in their formation of Titans, we may be able to get Kahn in there and cause some damage before they can react, tell him to go to the vehicle bay on sublevel Theta, there are some jet-bikes stored there.”

“Yes, father,” replied Horus, “I’ll inform Sanguinius that he will have to move his reserves into Kahn’s position. But,” he said as he pointed to another area, “The Tech-Guard have made a decisive push here, I don’t know how much longer the PDF units that were assigned that section can hold out. All my marine’s are held up on the eastern wall, so it may be more difficult to reinforce than I had originally planned.”

“Yes, it will be. Magnus’ Thousand Son’s will have to be moved in to reinforce them. That’s the only force that we can spare at the moment, the Death Guards assault on the Eastern Wall was more ferocious than I had anticipated.”

“Apparently Lorgar and Fulgrim have reinforced Angron near the southern wall. I fear that we may have to pull back to the palace proper if they are able to overwhelm the Iron Warriors.”

“The traitors,” he sighed, “How did it come to this, Horus?”

“Honestly, Father, I don’t know. Mannus had always been loyal, he should never had betrayed you this way. However, you still have eight of your children fighting with you. Me, Dorn, Guilliman, Kahn, Perturabo, Sanguinius, Russ, and Vulkan. We haven’t heard anything about Corax yet, and that frightens me.”

“It should, if Corax has turned, his speed and skill may be enough to turn the tide of this battle in favor of the Traitors.”

“Father, I know that this is not the time, but what about striking at the heart of the enemy?”

The Emperor let out a weary sigh. “Could you really do it though? You know that he will be guarded by your brother, could you kill him?”

“Ferrus Mannus is a traitor to you, and that alone means that he is no longer my brother.” Said Horus, a look of anger flashing through his eyes.

Again, the Emperor sighed wearily, “Contact Magnus, tell him I require his presence in the Inner Sanctum.”

“But, father, that will leave our defenses woefully weakened.”

“This was your idea Horus, and if we are to follow it, we need Magnus.”

“Should I have our remaining forces fall back to he eternity gate, and attempt to hold them there while we assault Mannus and the Fabricator General?”

“Yes, I fear that the Eternity Gate may be the only place we can hold them after we call Magnus in.”

“Also, contact Russ, we may need his skills when we arrive.”

“Yes, Father.” said Horus, as he strode out of the room.

Another blast shook the adamantium walls, and the Emperor stared at the holo-slate. His eyes going blank, as if he was staring past the computer. His tired face creased, and his brow furrowed. Something was going to happen, and it would change the course of things to come forever.

* * *

Magnus the Red silently walked into the Inner Sanctum of the Imperial Palace. It was buried deep underground, but even here, the blasts shook the golden walls. Around him, the Emperor’s body guards stood watch.

Within this vast room, stood the Golden Throne. It’s massive golden exterior gleaming in the will lit cavern. Around it stood the Emperor, Leman Russ, and Horus. As Magnus approached, all three turned towards him.

“Magnus, you have heeded my call,” said the Emperor, embracing his son.

“Yes, Father, I have, but I don’t understand why you called me, the defenses still need tending to.”

“This is more important then the defense of the Palace, this could end this entire heresy now.”

“How?”

“This machine, I built it to enter the Eldar Webway. According to one of the Fabricator General’s last reports, he had a Webway gate aboard his flagship that he was studying. We can use this gate here, hopefully, to enter the gate on his ship, hunt him down, and kill him.”

“How do we activate the portal on his ship?”

“This, is why I called you. The Eldar Webway is highly psychic in nature. With your powers, and the use of the throne, you may be able to locate it and force it to activate itself, allowing us entrance.”

“As you command, Father.”

The Emperor walked towards Magnus. “My son, I once berated you for the use of your powers, but now I see the flaw in that. You have a control over them that I have never seen, and I didn’t know at the time that your powers would hold the key to saving the Imperium, and possibly the Galaxy itself.”

Magnus lowered his eyes, “Father, I disobeyed you. I never stopped dabbling in the arts of Sorcery. But, I will redeem myself in your eyes.”

The Emperor embraced him, “My son, you already have, by remaining loyal to me through this darkness. I can only hope that you will be willing to forgive me for my trespasses.”

Magnus stood, and began ascending the long flight of stairs to the Golden Throne.

“Magnus, once you open the portal, it should not be hard to find a way to keep it open. Once you figure out how, you leave the throne and follow us through. We will need your help fighting our way towards the traitors.”

“Yes Father,” replied Magnus, as he sat on the large Golden chair.

A burst of light was emitted instantly, incredibly bright. Even the Emperor had to avert his eyes. Magnus’ powerful connection to the warp was exponentially increasing his ability to use the Throne.

Behind the throne, the massive Wraithbone gate began to pulse with a bluish light. As Magnus took more time, the light intensified. It began to turn almost like a liquid, seeping down from the top of the arch to the ground, creating a ‘doorway’ of sorts. Once it had encompassed the space, it became opaque.

The Emperor looked at his son with pride. He was truly as powerful a psykers as he was, and the Emperor knew that he would be invaluable in the fighting of the Traitors.

“My sons, now we strike into the heart of the Traitor’s, and we end this once and for all!” Cried the emperor, as he charged through the portal, his children following suit.

* * *

The traitor’s ship was dark. No lights were present in the massive cargo bay, filled with strange alien artifacts that were going to be brought back to Mars for study. The only light came from the recently activated Webway gate, which cast a pale glow into the depths of the shadows.

There was a slight rippling, and through emerged the Emperor, closely followed by Horus, Russ, and Magnus.

The Emperor already had his blade drawn, and began moving through the aisles of dusty relics. The primarch formed a phalanx behind him, their weapons at the ready.

* * *

Limping, the Emperor walked towards the large metal doors of the bridge. He had fought his way through hordes of demonic machinations, huge demon infested machines that had permeated every inch of the vessel.

His blade was stained with blood and oil, they combined dripping off of it’s golden blade and forming a small trail leading backwards.

But he had finally arrived here, the heavy adamantium door that led to the bridge of the traitor’s vessel had been inscribed with a massive eight pointed star. The all seeing eye of chaos had been placed in the center of this dark symbol.

However, there were dent’s that had been bashed into the surface of the supposedly impenetrable door. The emperor raised his blade, and walked towards the door. With a squeal of metal on metal, the doors swung open, seemingly of their own accord.

As the Emperor entered the massive chamber, he noticed that something was amiss. Blood had splattered almost every surface of the bridge, and all of the serf’s that should have been manning the systems were missing.

At the far end, standing upon a massive raised dais, was Ferrus Mannus. The silver metal that had been grafted onto his hands had spread and now covered his arms, ending at his shoulders.

Standing in a semi-circle around him, was Russ, Horus, and Magnus. They all had their weapons drawn, and on the ground in front of them was the mangled corpse of the machine infused Fabricator General.

The Emperor strode towards the raised section, and his children backed up to include him in the formation.

“Ferrus Mannus, former primarch of the Iron Hands, you have turned your back upon your father and your race. I am here to make you pay for your treachery, will you come willingly?” said the Emperor, his voice showing no emotion whatsoever.

When Mannus spoke, his voice was broken. He was a man on the edge of insanity. “You are not my father!” he said, a truly frightening look in his eyes. They had glossed over, giving them a strange shine, and they seemed to flick back and forth, “The Machine Spirit commands me to cast you down!”

The Emperor then realized his mistake. The pseudo-religion of the tech-priests of Mars had done exactly what he had feared that it would do. It had been corrupted.

“Ferrus Mannus, former primarch of the Iron Hands, you have turned your back upon your father and your race. I am here to pay for your treachery, will you come willingly?” repeated the Emperor, still showing no emotion.

“BE QUIET, YOU FALSE EMPEROR!!” screamed Mannus, his eyes widening, a feat which seemed impossible.

Magnus lowered his weapon. “Ferrus, something is wrong with you. Come with us, we can help you.”

And Mannus rushed forward, his fists slamming into Magnus’ chest. His chaos infused body was more powerful than he had ever been. The primarch was sent flying against the far wall, his chest crushed inwards, his spine broken.

Horus leapt forward, his blade a flashing blur as he attacked Mannus. The rage that he felt at the death of his brother had consumed him, and he was determined to avenge him. Russ attacked from behind Mannus, landing on the traitors back and digging his blade into the back of Mannus.

As Mannus reared back in pain, Horus swept his blade in a wide arc. The blade struck Mannus in the neck, and stopped halfway in. Mannus looked up at his brother, a look of insanity in his eyes. Horus struck again, his time the blade went all the way through to the traitor’s spine, and stuck there. With his trachea severed, Mannus mouthed curses of hate at Horus.

Once more, Horus blade struck, this time cleaving the head of Mannus from his body. As the head landed on the deck, the body fell backwards, the muscles releasing as his nervous system was cut off from his brain.

Horus immediately dropped his sword and ran towards Magnus, who was only barely breathing. A massive puddle of blood had amassed underneath him, as the gaping hole in his chest seeped.

The Emperor, through the entire exchange, had stood immovable and silent. Now, he strode over to the mangled body of the Fabricator General. Staring down at the corpse, he spit heartily, a grimace of pain and anger flashing over his features.

“Horus, you must take Magnus to the Golden Throne back in the Palace. We should be able to retrofit it in order to keep him alive.” ordered the Emperor.

“Leman, you must come with me, we need to discuss something.”

Both of the primarch nodded silently, Horus picking up the body of his fallen brother.

* * *

With the death of the leadership of the traitor’s, they had retreated off of Terra, their massive fleet immediately turning away. The loyalists had fought valiantly, but Jaghatai Khan had fallen during his charge.

After the traitor’s had fallen back, the Imperial Fists, Ultramarines, and Salamanders had arrived, bringing with them a full quarter of the Crusade fleet that they were a part of. But the battle had been a devastating one. Terra had been nearly purged of life. What few that were left were either injured, sick, or insane.

In order to facilitate the rebuilding of the Imperium, the Emperor decreed that the capitol of the Imperium was to be temporarily moved to a small planet named Ophelia VII on the fringe of Imperial Space. It was a largely habitable world, and was relatively unpopulated, making it a perfect location to re-create the capitol.

And now the Emperor sat at the head of a massive table inside the New Imperial Palace on Ophelia VII. Around the table, the remaining loyalist Primarchs that could be gathered all sat. The Emperor looked at his sons, and stood.

“I have called this meeting of the Primarchs for one reason. You are all that remain of what I created to save humanity. By doing so, I nearly destroyed it forever. I leave you with this,” he spoke solemnly, pointing to a massive tome that had been set on the table, “the Codex Imperialis, within is the rules and procedures that I have decreed shall lead this Imperium. These times ahead will be trying, and I leave you in command. Leman Russ and I shall depart, but we will return. In the future, the fate of the Imperium shall be decided once and for all, and I swear that I shall return for that moment.”

With that, the Emperor motioned to Leman Russ, and they left the planet. Taking with them only a single Battle Barge, they would not be seen again twenty five millennia.