Lorgar lifted his head, staring at the countless points of light slowly turning above Orsaga's palm.
The breathtaking revelations Orsaga had just revealed—truths so vast he had never even imagined them—left Lorgar feeling as though his mind had stalled.
He had come merely to ask about the meaning of his existence…
Yet in return, he had been shown secrets that should have required unimaginable effort and entire lifetimes to uncover.
It felt like stepping outside to buy vegetables, only to discover the planet was secretly ruled by Martians.
Technically, he had gained more than he lost—
but something about it felt profoundly wrong.
For a long moment, he simply did not know what to say.
Orsaga, however, remained unconcerned.
He had lured Lorgar here, yes—but whether Lorgar ended up worshipping him or not was of little importance.
After all, Lorgar had no real ability to refuse.
Silence lingered for a while.
As Orsaga accepted a piece of fruit from a nearby attendant, he casually grew a second mouth at the side of his face so he could answer while eating.
Finally, Lorgar voiced another question:
"Your Eminence… there is something that has long troubled me. Why is it that I have always felt an inexplicable closeness to the Warp… a sense of belonging?"
Orsaga replied between leisurely bites:
"That is simple. Because part of you does belong to the Warp."
"When the Emperor created you and your brothers, his success relied heavily on deals he struck with various entities within the Warp. Through those bargains, he received the aid necessary to complete your creation."
"As a result, your bodies and souls—aside from your outward human form—are far closer to Warp-born beings than to actual humans."
He paused, then added casually:
"Furthermore, according to the terms of those bargains, half of you—half of the Primarchs—were meant to be handed over to the Warp entities who assisted the Emperor."
Lorgar's expression changed at once.
Certain doubts he had buried deep within suddenly resurfaced, now painfully clear.
For example—
why his "father," his creator, had allowed such bitter conflicts and rivalries to grow between his sons.
He was afraid of us…
A memory stirred in Lorgar's mind—
an event more than a century old:
A Greater Daemon had ambushed the Emperor during a Warp voyage.
Their battle was said to be like something out of myth; even the aftershocks had annihilated half a fleet.
Neither side won.
And the daemon had claimed its name was Arik Taranis—
the same name as the First Captain of the long-erased Thunder Warriors.
Lorgar had once stumbled across obscure religious texts describing the purging of the Thunder Warriors.
Those documents had hinted—very subtly—that their destruction had not been due merely to "flaws"…
Now everything made sense.
A chilling realization crept into Lorgar's heart:
When the Great Crusade ends…
Father may very well cleanse us as he once cleansed the Thunder Warriors.
Only through that possibility did all his years of uneasy observations finally align.
After wrestling with these thoughts, Lorgar bowed deeply before Orsaga once more.
"Your Eminence…
may I be permitted to pledge myself—and my Legion—to you?"
"Of course," Orsaga replied without hesitation.
"I happen to have use for you. In fact, that is the very reason I summoned you."
He spoke plainly—no lies, no embellishment.
Orsaga had never enjoyed wasting time inventing deceptions.
If anything, he preferred watching others twist themselves into confusion;
it had been one of his favorite pastimes since childhood.
When he was young, he delighted in destruction and mischief.
As an adult godlike being… he still did.
Understanding flashed across Lorgar's face.
He cast a complicated glance toward Erebus beside him.
As a Primarch, Lorgar's intelligence was far from lacking.
If he failed in leadership, it had always been due to temperament and religious obsession, not ability.
He steadied himself and asked with reverence:
"May I ask, Your Eminence—
what task do you require of me?"
Orsaga answered with complete indifference:
"At a certain point in the future…
you will destroy the Imperium of Man."
Lorgar froze.
But under Orsaga's calm, unblinking gaze, he lowered himself fully to the floor and replied:
"As you command, my lord."
---
Elsewhere…
The other four Chaos Gods had also begun their own efforts:
temptation, manipulation, subtle whispers, direct coercion, honeyed promises, and well-timed betrayals…
all used to win over the Primarchs they favored.
Unlike Orsaga—who merely wished to participate for amusement—
the other four truly cared about winning the game.
Thus the scale of their schemes was… significant.
Strange rumors, inexplicable phenomena, and unsettling events began unfolding throughout the Imperium.
A sense of turbulence and instability spread.
Sensing these disturbances, the Emperor—commanding the Great Crusade at the front—felt a growing premonition of danger.
He immediately appointed Horus, the Warmaster, to continue leading the Crusade in his stead,
and then hurried back to Terra.
There, he would begin work on the most critical component of his grand plan:
The Webway Project.
The Webway—a relic of the ancient Aeldari civilization—could provide safe, efficient Warp travel, and even stable living space insulated from the Warp's corruption.
The ancient Aeldari had risen to galactic dominance largely because of their mastery of the Webway.
For the Emperor, securing even a fragment of it would negate most Warp threats and usher humanity into a new golden age.
So even if it meant abandoning vast portions of the physical empire, it would be worth it.
Indeed, one of the major purposes of the Great Crusade had always been to gather the countless materials and technologies needed to open the Webway.
..
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