Dark night.
When the shadows of the two boys overlap in the moonlight, please do not misunderstand.
This was nothing but a murder. The dark shadow above held the young man's neck tightly with both hands. He only let go of his hands when he was sure that the priest under him was dead.
A moment later, just as the black shadow reached out to touch the priest's perfect face.
Erebus, who should have been dead, suddenly opened his eyes. After the two looked at each
other for a moment, Erebus kicked the black shadow with his legs. Then Erebus got up in a
doggy paddle position and ran away in a panic.
[who I am!]
Where am I?
Erebus's mind spun in confusion. He should have been somewhere else—somewhere safe, quietly writing stories about emperors, power, and ambition. Where was this place?
As he ran, heat surged through his body, as if something ancient and terrible had awakened within him. Memories not entirely his own poured into his mind.
He was Erebus, First Chaplain of the Word Bearers.
Overwhelmed by the torrent of recollections, he dropped to his knees. Somehow, he had arrived in the age of the Great Crusade.
A universe overflowing with monsters, madness, and war! And he—Erebus—was at the center of it all, the one whose actions would fan the flames of the Horus Heresy. The one every loyalist and daemon alike would sooner kill than spare.
The beginning of his new existence struck like a thunderous bomb.
Erebus glanced anxiously at the dark figure closing in behind him. His torn robes and enormous hands made him pause—had they always been this large? Or had the Warp already altered him?
The shadow slowed as it approached, scrutinizing Erebus's towering form. Two meters tall now, his presence seemed to unsettle even the one who had intended to strike him. A flicker of doubt passed through the pursuer's eyes. Had he truly grown so quickly?
Erebus met the gaze of the figure before him. Both stared, panic reflected in each other's eyes. One could not comprehend what had become of Erebus; the other saw only the man who had once been his prey, now formidable and dangerous.
"Erebus… this is a misunderstanding," the shadow said cautiously.
He scanned Erebus's form, noting the ragged robes, the immense hands, and the raw power radiating off him. Subtle, careful movements sought to lower Erebus's guard while assessing for weapons.
Erebus mirrored the scrutiny, taking in the man before him and scanning the ground for anything he could use.
"You killed me once," Erebus said evenly, his voice heavy with inevitability.
He spotted a massive stone, easily within his grasp.
"I mean no offense, great priest," the shadow continued, voice quick with explanation. "I only followed what the texts said—a great priest must meet his god. I intended to guide you to the temple, nothing more."
The shadow's eyes widened, and he bent swiftly to seize a stone. Just as he readied himself to strike, the moonlight revealed Erebus, towering and silent, a massive rock clenched in his hands. His expression was blank, unreadable, as he stared down the man who would one day spark the Horus Heresy.
The boulder crashed down, crushing the attacker instantly. Blood and bone splattered across the ground. Erebus stared for a moment, disbelief flickering in his eyes—how had this man moved so fast?
Once he was certain the threat was ended, Erebus collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.
A wave of nausea struck him—not from guilt, but from the sheer physical horror of what he had just done.
He lay there, finally catching his breath, and the weight of reality pressed in. How could he possibly survive in this relentless, war-torn universe? How could he endure as Erebus—the First Chaplain, the instigator, the one who would fan the flames of rebellion?
The architect of the Horus Heresy.
Even among the Warp and the gods who paid attention to mortal affairs, few would spare him a thought.
Erebus frowned. In another life, he had been an ordinary man, living one day at a time. Now, if he could resist the corruption of the Warp, perhaps he still had a chance.
Erebus shook his hands, flexing them almost absentmindedly.
Had he always been this tall, or had his body only just changed? And if it had changed… was the Warp already observing him?
As he pondered this, his stomach growled.
"Eat first," he muttered bitterly.
There was no time for panic or despair. He could not collapse in hysteria, nor could he seek a meaningless end. A man had to survive—and survival meant finding sustenance.
After walking for nearly ten minutes, Erebus noticed a figure in crimson Covenant robes running toward him. The man stumbled, his movements clumsy and unsteady, yet urgent enough to draw Erebus's attention.
"Erebus! Erebus!" the man shouted.
Erebus studied him. The red robes marked the stranger as a fellow priest of the Covenant Church, though the hurried approach made him uncertain.
"I'm here!" Erebus called back, his voice sharp.
The man advanced, then paused, retreating slightly as he took in Erebus's appearance. Something about him was different—the Erebus before him was not the one he had remembered.
"You are…?" the man asked, his tone tentative.
Erebus let out a weary sigh. "Erebus. And I… don't know how it came to be like this."
The man's eyes widened, hope and disbelief warring in his gaze. "Erebus, this is a miracle! Heretics are attacking the Covenant Church. Under your leadership, we can rise again!"
The man in front of Erebus had such an excited tone and voice that one could even hear his
saliva splattering.
"Who are these heretics?"
After a moment of silence, Erebus asked directly.
"A heretic named Lorgar! Although they are now winning one victory after another! But I
believe... Hey, Erebus, don't go! Where are you going?"
A heretic named Lorgar, the man replied. They are already claiming victory after victory—but I believe… Wait, Erebus, don't leave! Where are you going?"
Erebus blinked, puzzled. Lorgar… the Primarch? Could it be possible he was about to face one of the Emperor's own sons? He had just arrived in this universe, unprepared and utterly human in the midst of gods and monsters. And now he was expected to confront a Primarch of the Imperium itself? Madness.
Why is it that in other fanfictions, the reincarnators are all sworn brothers with the Primarchs, but in my world, they are either strangled to death or beaten by the Primarchs?
This is utterly outrageous.