Chapter 117: The Final Duel
The Emperor appeared, and the surrounding chaotic energy surged like a tide. Intense light and darkness intertwined, forming an extremely distorted scene. People who were once as close as father and son now stood on opposite sides, separated by an abyss spanning the entire galaxy.
The Emperor's tone was calm and gentle, carrying transcendent compassion and profound helplessness. "Horus, I know you have gone astray, but you are still my son. Everything you have done...betrayal, kinslaying, will only lead you to destruction. You're not like this. Turn back."
But Horus...Horus saw only darkness. He strode forward, gripping the Talon tightly as increasingly violent Chaos energy erupted from his body. The whispers of the Four sang through his veins, drowning out all reason.
"False Emperor! Drop your disguise!" Horus roared, his voice layered with the mad chorus of Chaos. "This is all part of your plan to become a god! But now all of this is mine! I no longer need it! Now I have greater power, just like yours!"
He swung the Talon in a furious arc. The chaotic runes on the weapon flickered with an evil red light, as if echoing the rage within his heart.
The Emperor still did not move. He gently waved His hand, as if controlling some vast and incomprehensible force. "You can choose to stop all of this, Horus."
His voice became even lower, almost sorrowful.
The Emperor neither dodged nor engaged in active combat. He simply stood there. Even as Horus's Talon descended toward Him, He continued offering a final choice, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow at the last possible moment. His golden armor remained unmarred, but His eyes held infinite sorrow.
Francis watched this scene and felt a chill run down his spine.
'Is this emotional, burly figure really the Emperor? He's so different from when we first met!'
"FATHER, don't hold back!" Francis called out, unable to contain himself. "He's completely beyond saving! If you don't take action now, don't blame others if you end up crippled!!"
Francis felt nothing but frustration toward his father, so ruthless in the past, yet now speaking of feelings and redemption. But at this moment, the Emperor seemed deaf to his pleas and continued to act as He saw fit, offering mercy where none could be received.
Just as Francis dragged Leman Russ and Sanguinius over to hide together in the blackstone fortress he had hastily constructed, everything changed.
Suddenly, the three daemon-corrupted Primarchs wore eerie smiles. Their bodies began to tremble violently, and black energy burst forth from their forms, as if summoned by some ritualistic power.
The voices of Magnus, Mortarion, and Fulgrim rang out simultaneously...low, eerie, and unified.
"Now!"
Their bodies began to self-destruct. Energy fluctuations filled every inch of the Vengeful Spirit as their forms instantly transformed into a raging energy storm. The power was injected directly into the warship's core.
As they self-destructed, the Vengeful Spirit began to shake violently. Every piece of metal on the ship emitted a piercing wail as its structure constantly collapsed. In every corner, endless chaotic runes began to emerge, writhing like living things.
At the same time, the ship's essence became increasingly connected to the rift in the Warp.
The power of the Four completely transformed the vessel into an otherworldly court floating in Chaos itself. The boundary between the material and immaterial dissolved.
With a deafening explosion, the partition between the Vengeful Spirit and the Palace of Horus in the Warp vanished instantly.
Every part of the ship became intertwined with that daemon-filled void. Space and time distorted at that moment. Reality itself began to fracture.
The Vengeful Spirit was no longer merely a ship; it had become a chaotic territory indescribable in material terms, as if it had crossed the boundary between reality and unreality.
"No! Father has been drawn into their trap after all!" Leman Russ's voice betrayed his nervousness. It was the first time he had ever witnessed such a phenomenon, and it was truly nightmarish.
"What's happening?! I need to go out and save Father!" He moved toward the barrier, but Francis grabbed his arm.
"We can't get out now!" Francis's voice was strained with effort. "If it weren't for all this blackstone, we would become entities without form or thought."
His tone was weary. This was not his plan at all. In fact, why had the Emperor come at all?
"Is there really no way?"
Sanguinius lay prostrate on the ground, staring intently outward, spitting blood onto the deck. "I will personally punish Horus!!"
"There is a solution," Francis said, his eyes darting back and forth between Leman Russ and Sanguinius as his mind raced, "but it will take some time."
Horus's body began to twist in unimaginable ways, radiating an aura of madness. He was no longer merely part of the warship; he had become the embodiment of this chaotic kingdom itself.
Countless futures and pasts intertwined and overlapped. Almost every inch of space is constantly changed and fractured. Time itself had become fluid, malleable...a weapon in the hands of the Ruinous Powers.
"Hahaha! False Emperor! Come and see! You are destined to have no future!" Horus roared, his eyes filled with madness and something else, triumph.
At this moment, the Emperor was also drawn into this frenzied temporal maelstrom. He traversed countless parallel timelines, instantly entering different futures and pasts.
In each illusion, the Emperor engaged in fierce battle with Horus.
The Warmaster manifested in various forms, sometimes as the embodiment of Chaos itself, sometimes as a traitor to the Imperium. Each version, both future and past, was unpredictable, filled with violence and rage.
In these worlds of possibility, the Emperor wielded psychic power, battling every incarnation of Horus. Every battle was fierce, like an endless ordeal. Each strike echoed across millennia.
"Return, Horus! This is all the seduction of Chaos!" the Emperor called out, His voice cutting through time itself.
Each of the Emperor's attacks cleaved through time and space. Horus's counterattacks carried the power of the Four, attempting to devour the Emperor's very essence.
Throughout these countless futures and pasts, Horus's appearance constantly changed. Sometimes he was an omnipotent daemon prince, sometimes a cruel dictator corrupted by Chaos, sometimes an ambitious hero consumed by pride. Each form carried a different aura of pain and destruction.
The Emperor attempted to save Horus from corruption across every timeline, yet the outcome of each battle seemed destined to fail.
"Slay the false Emperor, and humanity will belong to Chaos!!" one Horus taunted.
"Your Majesty, you're growing old!" another laughed cruelly. "Only one person can truly rule the Imperium!"
"There is no place for you in the new era!" a third declared.
"..."
As the Emperor listened to Horus's words, repeated across infinite timelines, each variation a unique cruelty. His heart grew colder and colder. Each taunt was another knife in His soul.
"You cannot escape your fate, false Emperor," Horus's voice echoed through countless times and spaces.
Sometimes it was deep and low, sometimes excited and frenzied, as if the voice came from different futures and different beings speaking in chorus.
"Chaos is irresistible. Everything you own will be destroyed."
"No!" The Emperor's expression gradually hardened, turning icy.
Suddenly, He erupted, unleashing a massive surge of psychic energy that swept out like thunder, destroying that failed future.
The image of the future shattered instantly, as if one mirror after another had been smashed and disappeared into the void.
"I will not let you destroy everything, Horus," the Emperor's voice boomed like thunder across reality itself. His will crystallized, a blade cutting through infinite possibilities.
Horus's eyes burned with the fire of Chaos. He laughed hoarsely, his voice filled with madness.
"You can destroy these futures, but I will create more. Your order is destined to crumble, and you can never stop me! I will rise to become the Dark King, stepping over your corpse!!!"
His laughter echoed across the timelines, mad and triumphant.
"You can never become the Dark King," the Emperor said coldly.
His face was now icy, carved from stone. He took a deep breath, and countless chaotic energies rushed into His body, drawn like poison from a wound. It was as if a deathly blackness had appeared on a golden sun, a terrible sight.
The Emperor's figure began growing infinitely larger. His will manifested like a thunderbolt from the heavens, instantly piercing through countless entangled futures and destroying countless terrible destinies in a single moment.
Accompanied by countless futures collapsing and destruction spreading in their wake, it was like an unprecedented explosion consuming all possibilities.
The entire space was violently distorted in that instant.
Rumble~
The entire Vengeful Spirit reappeared in realspace.
Both figures grew larger, almost reaching the size of a moon. Each clash triggered massive energy fluctuations, shattering asteroids and altering the structure of the solar system itself.
The void screamed in protest.
The Emperor and Horus now stood as titans, their conflict on a scale that dwarfed fleets and dockyards. Reality bent around them.
"Horus, turn back," the Emperor said, His voice carrying the weight of genuine sorrow even as it shook the foundations of the materium. "I don't want to kill you."
He tried His best to control His voice, but the power of Chaos seemed to flow toward Him uncontrollably, seeking to corrupt even His golden essence.
"Heh~" Horus's laughter was demonic, echoing across the void. "Then show me how you'll kill me!"
The Warmaster's form blazed with the combined might of the Four Gods, unstoppable and hungry for victory.
[End of Chapter]
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