"You ignorant fool!" Kor Phaeron was pinned to the ground, his fury bursting out like a flood. Through clenched teeth he spat:
"Have you ever read the sacred texts? Have you studied the stars and the signs? I am your master, I order you to release me!"
But the crowd ignored his command. The guards cowered, kneeling in fear.
Kor Phaeron called himself the bearer of the True Word, but he was nothing more than an exiled priest of the Covenant; his authority had long since been lost.
Lorgar, however, was a prophet given to this land by the gods, and Caelan too bore their blessing.
Lorgar had chosen Caelan. That choice alone revealed to the people that Kor Phaeron was a fraud, a pretender. The true bearers of the Word were Caelan and Lorgar!
Caelan led Lorgar before Kor Phaeron. The slaves watched with frenzied awe, reverent eyes fixed on the boy.
"Where is his incubation pod?" Caelan asked the nomads.
The nomads stammered, "We… we hid it away."
"Was it damaged in the landing?" Caelan asked. "If so, bring me a fragment."
They scurried into a tent, and after a while, returned with a sharp shard, offering it to him.
"Take it," Caelan said, placing the shard in Lorgar's palm. "One of your brothers once used a fragment like this to bring judgment and justice to an entire world, giving the oppressed people fairness and order. I expect the same of you, don't grow up to be a giant infant."
Lorgar held the shard, bewildered. Yet when Caelan praised another Primarch, his violet eyes narrowed to pinpoints, his gaze falling.
It was as if, in that instant, he had grown years older. Head bowed, he walked toward Kor Phaeron.
Kor Phaeron's face lit with joy. "Child! Come here! I am your master!" he cried.
Step by step, Lorgar approached. He looked down upon Kor Phaeron's aged face, his own voice soft and innocent:
"It's you."
"Yes, it's me!" Kor Phaeron lifted his head, both proud and eager. "Release me, you wretched slaves!"
The slaves pressing him down trembled in terror. Some panicked, began to withdraw, lessening the weight on his body. Kor Phaeron could move again.
"Come to me, child." He stretched out a hand, eyes burning with obsession.
"Release him," Lorgar ordered.
Fear rippled through the slaves, but none dared disobey. One by one, they let Kor Phaeron go.
Lorgar raised Kor Phaeron's chin with his pale hand. And under the priest's expectant gaze, he drew the shard across his throat.
"Grk!"
A wet, gurgling sound erupted from Kor Phaeron's throat, like a dying worm thrashing in mud.
Clutching at his neck, he stared in disbelief, blood soaking his hand.
Yet even then, his eyes were fixed on Lorgar, shining with anticipation. He reached out bloody fingers, desperate to grasp the "gift of the gods" that was slipping from him.
Dark red froth spilled from his lips, weaving down his neatly trimmed beard, staining the hot sand with grotesque patterns.
Lorgar did not look back. He returned to Caelan's side, holding the bloodstained shard, lifting his gaze nervously yet full of expectation.
The slaves rejoiced. The nomads celebrated. The guards shivered with fear. No one mourned Kor Phaeron.
"Why did you kill him?" Caelan asked.
Lorgar turned his head slowly. His violet eyes reflected the sight of Kor Phaeron's dying spasms, the priest twisting like a worm with a broken spine, dragging a bloody trail across the sand, his trembling fingers still reaching toward him.
Why had he killed him?
"I thought… You would like it," Lorgar said. His gaze shone with hope, longing for praise like the praise given to his brothers.
Caelan's sigh drifted into the dry air, spreading like ink across sand. Yet to Lorgar, it cut like a blade driven straight into his heart.
"Did I do something wrong?" Lorgar asked in panic.
Caelan once thought Nostramo was the galaxy's Gotham, but now he realized Colchis was the true Gotham, because here, the Joker lived.
Now, Kor Phaeron was dead. Erebus was dead. Only Lorgar, the Primarch, remained.
But what was he to do with him?
Curze had the natural ability to love, to instinctively pursue justice and order. In true history, Curze had only strayed. With him, Caelan's task was simple: just point him in the right direction.
But every Primarch had a different nature. Lorgar was not like Curze. Encouragement would not work on him.
Keeping Lorgar loyal was simple: exploit his flaw, his obsession with authority, through constant psychological manipulation.
Tell him the Emperor is a god. Tell him, again and again, that his suffering is the Emperor's test.
In true history, that was exactly what Kor Phaeron had done.
Lorgar had always treated Kor Phaeron as his master, obsessed with submitting to his authority.
Even though he was abused, even when slaves rose up to kill Kor Phaeron and free him from his suffering, Lorgar slaughtered them instead, continuing to serve like a dog, because Kor Phaeron embodied the authority he craved.
But authority is never absolute.
In time, Lorgar abandoned Kor Phaeron when he found a greater authority, the Emperor.
If the Emperor had remained the ultimate authority in his heart, Lorgar's loyalty might never have faltered.
But the Emperor, for all his psychic might, was still only a man. He was not a god. He had no absolute authority.
With Lorgar's nature, once he glimpsed the truth of the Four Chaos Gods, even without Monarchia, even without Kor Phaeron or Erebus, he would likely have fallen to his knees before them. Because they were more absolute than the Emperor.
Just as he had once abandoned Kor Phaeron to embrace the Emperor.
Manipulating Lorgar was easy. In his dependence on Caelan, he would believe anything Caelan told him.
But this was only a temporary fix. A lie, even to oneself.
"Listen carefully, Lorgar," Caelan said. "The gods are real. But never put your faith in them."
"Why?" Lorgar asked.
"Because you and I are human. The Emperor is human. And gods… gods never protect humanity."
"Believe in the power of gods. But never in their mercy."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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