Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor

The Bucephalus, flagship of the Emperor during the early stages of the Great Crusade, stood magnificently in orbit.

A colossal warship of gold and marble, it resembled a titanic statue. At its prow, a giant eagle spread its wings, while the hull was covered in sculpted figures and sanctuaries of war, an entire city of battle cast into a ship.

Its sleek body and wings narrowed to a spear-like point, engines at the rear glowing with a cold blue light.

Officials and officers of the Imperium stood ready to welcome their master, the Emperor, aboard.

But the Emperor wasn't the only one being welcomed today. A second figure walked beside him: the newly returned Primarch, Nareth, the second to be recovered.

Rows of guns along the keel fired in a bright salute. Eleven ceremonial volleys lit up the entire Vostroyan system in celebration.

From Terra, scribes dispatched by Malcador, though not yet officially recognized by Imperial records, documented the moment with cameras, data slates, and handwritten notes.

"811.M30: The Emperor recovered the Eleventh Primarch on Vostroya..."

The official scribes were more meticulous:

"9133811.M30. The Emperor recovered the Eleventh Primarch on Vostroya. He is the second Primarch to return to the Imperium."

Imperial calendar notes:

The first digit indicates the accuracy of the date: 0 = exact Terra standard.

9 means the least accurate, used for planets without prior adoption of the Imperial calendar.

The 2nd–4th digits divide a star's orbital period into 1000 segments, used to timestamp events precisely.

Thus, Nareth's official return was logged as the 811th year of M30, the 133rd planetary millennium fraction, with a large deviation from Terra's standard time.

Nareth followed closely behind the Emperor. With him were loyal aides: Howard, Bukayo, Thierry, Szczesny, Roslov, and others.

Knowing the Emperor's distaste for psykers, Nareth had wisely left Malena and Arsena behind.

The Emperor turned to Alpharius, who bore a spear: 

"Escort Nareth's party to the dining hall."

And to Nareth:

"I must speak with your brother first. You'll meet him shortly."

"As you wish," Nareth replied with a smile. He could already sense a powerful presence rapidly approaching by ship.

He'd guessed the identity: Horus, the first son officially recovered by the Imperium.

Nareth also knew the behind-the-scenes truth: originally, Leman Russ had been the second to return, and when Horus lost his status as the only son, he'd sulked, trying to convince the Emperor that his wild brother was untrustworthy.

The Emperor had calmed and persuaded Horus to accept his siblings, and Horus had gone on to be the "good older brother," helping many of them adjust.

Now, clearly, the Emperor would do the same, talk to Horus before the reunion.

Sixteen stellar minutes later, in the observatory ring surrounding the dining hall's dome:

The Emperor and Horus looked down through curved reinforced glass at the table 60 meters below.

Horus, bald and gleaming in his armor, radiated brilliance like the dawn. His armor was etched with ancient runes, a bright red cape flowing from his back.

He examined the Vostroyans below with a critical gaze. After sixteen long seconds, he finally spoke:

"I know the Reapers. I've led them. They're brutal hunters, driven by instinct."

"The Vostroyans are different. They lack that edge. They're shackled by reason."

Flashing his white teeth, he said with certainty:

"These two groups will never be brothers in arms."

"The Vostroyans aren't fit to serve you."

The Emperor chuckled at the weak reasoning, amused by his son's jealousy.

"Horus, the Vostroyans know war with gun and cannon. Under your brother, they conquered this entire system."

"They've even subdued a world in another system. The stars hold no mystery for them."

Horus fell silent, reflective.

He was no longer the only one.

He shouldn't have cared, but he did. A deep discomfort twisted inside him.

Sensing his son's emotional conflict, the Emperor placed a hand on Horus's shoulder.

The touch made Horus's soul tremble. Warmth flooded his heart, and though he tried to resist it, he couldn't.

"I understand your disappointment," the Emperor said, staring into his son's eyes.

"You and I have fought side by side for years. It's only natural that you feel this way…"

His tone blended humor and wisdom, the Emperor's presence soothed him.

Horus bathed in that divine radiance like sunlight, even if it burned him.

"This is sibling rivalry."

"But I need him. We need him."

"Competition between brothers is encouraged; it drives you to excel."

Then the Emperor's tone sharpened, though he still smiled:

"But I will not tolerate discord."

"You must cooperate. You must learn to fight as one."

Under the pressure of the Emperor's gaze, Horus's resolve crumbled. A shadow of dread settled in his heart; he knew that this new brother might one day match or surpass him.

"You're going to give him a legion?"

"Father… forgive me, but is that wise?"

"I gave a gang lord from Cthonia a legion," the Emperor said gently. "That was your birthright. And so is his."

The wisdom in the Emperor's voice filled Horus with shame for questioning him.

"If I can't trust you to learn to lead as my eldest son, to work with others, then perhaps I have overestimated you."

Though the words were spoken kindly, they struck like thunder.

The thought of disappointing his father horrified Horus.

"I won't let you down, Father," he swore.

"I'll befriend him. I'll help teach him, as you asked."

Horus turned and made his way to the dining hall.

At the same moment, Nareth, who had been quietly listening to the entire exchange, also rose.

Moments later, the two Primarchs met in a lavish private chamber.

"I am Horus, Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion, the Luna Wolves."

Horus was just wondering if this towering brother of his spoke High Gothic when Nareth answered:

"Nareth, Primarch of the Eleventh Legion. I know they used to be called the Reapers."

Nareth's accent was flawless, even Horus, ever the perfectionist, could find no fault.

"You want to change them?" Horus raised an eyebrow. He tried to set aside his jealousy, his voice now calm.

"That's not going to be easy."

"You'll see," Nareth replied matter-of-factly.

"You have little time."

"I know."

"I hope you succeed." Horus turned to leave but paused at the door.

"Cezak and Sanchez… I can already smell the blood on them. They're coming."

.....

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

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