"Great Gene-Father, let me command the strike team. Let me seize the cargo for you," Lucius said.
"Lucius, I expected better. Has your brain rotted? How is this different from the sorcerer's plan? You only made yourself captain," Fulgrim said, staring as at an idiot. He had never liked Lucius—not since the latter first joined his host.
Around them, daemon princes, Chaos lords, and high daemons smirked. Lucius' plan was nothing.
Lucius was no longer a god-chosen. Since Slaanesh's descent, all such brands had faded. Only Fulgrim could anoint new chosen—after he fully fused the shard. For now, Lucius was but a strong champion. Nothing more.
"Father! My plan is different. The true decoy must be you. Only your presence on the main field will draw every eye. The Avatar, the Death God, and Guilliman when he comes—they will all come for you. I will lead a small team to steal the prize. That is the only plan that can work," Lucius said.
"Utter folly. How can the Gene-Father risk himself? He is ascending to godhood. We should do it," a Chaos champion protested. Once he'd have feared Lucius, but no longer.
"But if the Gene-Father does not appear, even a full commitment will fail. And then he will never walk the materium," Lucius said.
That was the crux. Fulgrim did not want to go—every keen mind smelled a trap. But the bait the Imperium dangled was irresistible—too important to refuse. He would have to risk himself. Without him, the theft would fail.
"Lucius, I suspect you take orders from another," Fulgrim said.
"Great one, to gain what you want, you must risk. The godshard has chosen you. You will be the greatest being in the galaxy—perhaps the universe. Even if that corpse on the Throne schemes—what of it? Why would I bend to a corpse?" Lucius said.
He did not answer directly. He would never serve the corpse on the Throne—only his true mistress, Aisha. He used the gross insult to ease Fulgrim's suspicion.
Fulgrim smiled. Soon he would be a Dark God. What had he to fear? Though not complete, the god-power was already intertwined with him.
"Lucius, your plan is sound—but you won't lead the team. I have a better choice," Fulgrim said.
He would not entrust this to Lucius. He chose his most trusted—Lorgar, now a daemon prince—whose hatred for the Emperor burned even hotter since learning the Emperor preferred a replacement to bringing him back.
Such sorrow. The Emperor would raise a clone to preach rather than trust him.
"Your word is law, great Gene-Father," Lucius said with a slight smile.
It didn't matter who led, as long as Fulgrim entered the snare.
Fulgrim agreed to Lucius' plan, but did not fully trust him. He gathered an elite: Daemon Prince Lorgar, several Chaos lords, and a strike force of Noise Marines and veteran Emperor's Children.
"Lorgar, this mission is vital. If I succeed, we will gain greater power. I promise to help you rise to demigod," Fulgrim said.
"Fulgrim, you know I care little for power. I want a god to follow. If you will be my god, all the better," Lorgar said.
He had been born to serve a god—to found a church. He had hoped his father would be that god—to lead all mankind in worship. But the Emperor destroyed Monarchia, stripped his faith, and declared He was no god—the universe's cruelest joke. Then worse: rather than trust him, the Emperor elevated a clone to preach. Despair. Lorgar wanted one thing now: to destroy the Emperor and His Imperium.
"Brother, I will be your god. I will be generous, not like Him. Preach for me. Found a new cult of delight," Fulgrim said. faith was potent and plentiful. After annihilating the current Imperium, he would sift a new mankind to breed and make them worship him.
"Rest easy, my brother, my master. I will do it. Make me your prophet," Lorgar said. He would seize the avatar at any cost. With a vessel in the materium, Fulgrim would be invincible—unless the Emperor rose and ascended fully, in which case He would be constrained to the warp.
"Lead the strike team and secure the cargo. I will engage the enemy host and buy your time," Fulgrim said.
Lorgar bowed, eyes aflame with hatred. "For your glory, my brother—my new god."
"Go choose your team. The rest will at once attack Vigilus and join Abaddon's assault," Fulgrim ordered.
For now, pressure must be kept on the Imperium. The true decision would come when Guilliman arrived.
Lucius stood aside, lips quirking as if savoring the play to come. He slipped away, sank into meditation, and contacted the Slaanesh-Slayer.
"How goes it, Lucius? Did you complete your task?" the Slaanesh-Slayer asked.
"My lord, tell our great master her task is done. Fulgrim will engage. The plan is thus…" Lucius said, recounting Fulgrim and Lorgar's decisions in full.
"Excellent. As reward, you will receive a Monster Capsule. Open it to release a cosmic beast to fight for you," the Slayer said.
After decades of research, Rhodes' scientists had perfected a copy of the Monster Capsule—packed with creatures Rhodes had ordered made, and some redeemed from the System—nothing too crucial.
"My thanks to our new master. I, Lucius, will serve with all my might," Lucius said.
"After this, the Master will receive you—along with the Lady. You will be granted Super Beast augmentation and become a giant warrior," the Slayer said.
…
Time slipped by. A month and a half later, Guilliman's fleet emerged near Vigilus from the warp.