The Emperor had arrived. The Master of Mankind had broken through the blockade of the Four Chaos Gods in the Warp and finally reached the battlefield, saving Kratos at the most critical moment.
"You have done more than enough," the Emperor said, looking down at Kratos, "You successfully held Horus back and exhausted the majority of his power."
This grandson of his had already made him incredibly proud. He was not a true Primarch, but a naturally born human.
In the Emperor's heart, Kratos was even more important than Axis.
He had just exerted all of his psychic might, channeling every ounce of his power to shatter the spatial barrier forged by the Four Chaos Gods. He had broken through to this place to save his grandson at the crucial instant.
"Kratos, this is no longer your battle," the Emperor said, patting Kratos on the shoulder, "Stand aside. What comes next is between me and Horus."
"No, Grandfather, I can still fight. Let me fight him," Kratos struggled, trying to rise, but the Emperor held him down with a single hand.
"Obey my command, Kratos. Retreat to the side," the Emperor's tone was solemn. "This is not a battle you can interfere with. Even your father lacks that right."
Kratos opened his mouth to protest, but ultimately nodded in resignation.
He followed the Emperor's order and moved to the edge of the battlefield, ceding the central stage to the Emperor of Mankind, Neoth.
"Give it your all, Grandfather!" Kratos called out. "Destroy this traitor. Do not hold back. He is no longer Horus."
Having spent so many years with his grandfather, Kratos understood him well. Over ninety percent of the Emperor's true emotions were reserved for the human race.
The small fraction that remained was divided among many. That sliver of affection was given to him, to his mother, to his grandmother, and a very significant portion had once been given to Horus.
"Why did you kill my son?" the Emperor asked, his gaze fixed on Horus.
The question stunned Horus. When did I kill your son?
"Have you gone senile, old man?" Horus sneered, "Hurry up and hand over the title of Master of Mankind to me. Let me lead humanity to its new dawn."
"Why did all of you kill my son?" the Emperor repeated the question, his voice laced with an undeniable power.
In the Emperor's eyes, Horus was already dead. The light of his soul had dimmed to nothing.
What lived now was merely a puppet of the Four Chaos Gods, animated by Horus's memories. His enemy here was not Warmaster Horus, but the Ruinous Powers themselves.
This time, Horus finally sensed that something was wrong. The Emperor was looking at him, but his words were not directed at him. His gaze seemed to pass through him, focusing instead on the four phantom figures of the gods looming faintly behind him.
A nameless fury ignited in Horus's heart. What do you mean by that? What do you mean 'they' killed your son? Isn't the son you speak of me? Isn't it me?
The Emperor drove his flaming greatsword into the deck plate of the bridge. His psychic might magnified infinitely, forming a colossal golden projection of himself in the Warp that stood in direct opposition to the Four Chaos Gods.
"Look at me, Father!" Horus roared at the Emperor. "Look at me! I am your opponent!"
What is this talk about killing your son? I am not dead! I am not dead! Father, I am only using these four fools for my own ends!
The power that Horus had suppressed deep within his heart now burst forth. The Ki that the Chaos Gods had gathered from Axis was now unsealed, reinforcing his body and elevating his physical prowess to an unbelievable level. At the same time, the Four Chaos Gods poured their divine power into Horus, pushing him to the absolute limit.
His body swelled once more, growing until he matched the Emperor's five-meter stature. Two titans now stood in opposition, but the Emperor's head was tilted slightly upward, his gaze bypassing Horus entirely.
Horus would not permit the Emperor to ignore him like this, to look past him at the four beings at his back.
"You," the Emperor demanded once more, his voice echoing as a powerful psychic wave that scorched the very fabric of the Warp like a sun. "Why did you kill my son?"
The Four Chaos Gods, in a rare display of perfect unity, offered no reply. Instead, they let out chilling, grotesque laughter, a sound drenched in mockery.
Who they were mocking was anyone's guess. Was it the Emperor, or was it Horus himself? No one could know.
The Emperor's giant, golden psychic projection had fully manifested in the Warp. Horus's own soul-projection, bolstered by the Four, also entered the immaterial realm.
The two began an earth-shattering battle. Unlike his fight with Kratos, this time Horus fought with everything he had, pushing the power of the Four Gods to its absolute maximum.
This was his only chance, the one opportunity he would ever have to defeat the Emperor.
Horus swung his mighty Talon and the warmaul Worldbreaker, while the Emperor, clad in the One True Armour, wielded the golden Emperor's Sword. Their final battle had begun.
Within the Warp, the Emperor became a golden titan of pure psychic energy, his radiance banishing the chaos around him like an immortal star.
His vision pierced through Horus, locking onto the four shifting, phantom figures of the Chaos Gods that emanated an endless aura of malice and madness behind his son.
"Answer me!" the Emperor's voice was not a shout but a psychic shockwave of immense power that thundered in every corner of the Immaterium. "Why did you kill my son?"
The question was a roar of fury, and of mourning. It was the explosive release of a father's love, suppressed for years, now unleashed in this desperate final hour.
In the material universe, the Emperor brandished his greatsword, clashing with Horus, while his spirit waged a simultaneous war against the Four Gods in the Warp. It was a battle that transcended spirit, time, and space. This was the Emperor at his most furious, his combat potential maximised. Empowered for a decade by Axis's Ki energy and having consumed a great deal of fruit from the Tree of Might, the Emperor's strength had far surpassed what it once was. Even the Chaos Gods had to face him with their full attention, concentrating all their focus on this enraged father.
"You are but a puppet in their hands, Horus," the Emperor's voice rang out in Horus's frenzied mind, cold and clear, cutting through the whispers of the gods. "The power you pride yourself on is the poison bait they have fed you. You have destroyed everything you once swore to protect. You have murdered my son."
In that moment, the Emperor was less the Master of Mankind and more a grief-stricken father, a father whose son had been killed before his very eyes.
"No!" Horus's counterattack was even more ferocious as he assailed the man who was once his father.
"Look behind you! Look at what you have become!" the Emperor's voice carried a trace of imperceptible pain, a last call to the final glimmer of his son's soul, a lament for the impending death of Horus's radiant spirit. "They are laughing! Laughing at your foolishness, laughing at your arrogance! They are using you as a weapon to stab at my heart! My son, Horus Lupercal, is already dead!" The Emperor raised his greatsword and swung it down upon Horus.
"Silence!" Horus roared.
Kratos watched from the side in disbelief. It seemed his grandfather, the Emperor, was not fighting with his true strength.
On several occasions, the Emperor had clearly forced Horus into a corner, yet he had not delivered the final blow. He had even allowed Horus to seize an opportunity, letting the Talon of Horus carve deep wounds into the One True Armour.
Years of affection, the memory of his first-found son, and all the hopes he had placed in Horus made it impossible for the Emperor to be ruthless.
Unlike his other Primarchs, the Emperor truly saw Horus as his son. The others were merely tools.
While battling Horus in the material realm, the Emperor also had to contend with the Four Chaos Gods in the Warp.
They fought for over a hundred exchanges, but the Emperor gradually began to lose ground, forced back by Horus's relentless assault.
"I will prove it to you, Father," Horus snarled, his body radiating a terrifying Chaotic power from the Warp, his face twisted into a monstrous visage, "I will do better than you ever did!"
Kratos could not believe that his grandfather was being pushed back. He struggled to stand, wanting to help, but the pain wracking his body left him powerless.
He had only a single vial of the spirit fruit juice left. His grandfather truly could not bring himself to kill Horus. His feelings for him ran far too deep.
Seizing an opening, Horus kicked the Emperor, sending him flying across the chamber. The Emperor crashed heavily against a blast door, severely wounded.
At that desperate moment, a figure appeared on the battlefield. It was an ordinary soldier of the Imperium, dressed in a beige uniform and simple flak armour, holding a common lasgun. No one knew when he had arrived.
He charged toward Horus.
The Emperor, seeing the sudden appearance of this soldier, wore an expression of disbelief.
"Oll Persson, get out of here!" the Emperor struggled to rise, "This is not your battle! You are no match for him! Run!"
It was Ollanius Persson.
Born in 15,000 BC in Anatolia, his Perpetual nature had awakened during the Stone Age after the death of his son. He was once a close companion of the Emperor, had fought in the Trojan War, marched with Alexander the Great, and joined the Roman legions to garrison Britannia.
He became a close friend of Machiavelli during the Renaissance and fought as Ollian Pierson in the First World War. He was a fellow traveller with the Emperor. During the Great Crusade, he took the name Pius and enlisted as a common soldier in the Imperial Guard, hiding his perpetual nature and determined to atone for his past as a mortal man.
Though a Perpetual, Oll Persson possessed no great psychic power, and his physical abilities were only slightly better than an average human. Yet this immortal mortal soldier stood resolutely before the Warmaster Horus, raised his lasgun, and charged.
A deeply scornful look crossed Horus's face. He allowed the man's bayonet to strike his armor, where it produced a dull 'tink,' unable to even scratch him.
A wave of powerful Warp energy instantly tore the mortal soldier apart, annihilating this insignificant insect in his eyes.
As Oll Persson's body dissolved under the corrupting energies of the Warp, he turned his head in his final moments and offered the Emperor a faint smile. Everything was conveyed in that silent gesture. It was the final encouragement from the Emperor's first Warmaster.
You do not have the courage to kill this son, so I shall give you that courage. Fight on, Neoth!
Witnessing the death of his first Marshal, the light in the Master of Mankind's eyes changed completely. The heavy grief and questioning were replaced by a cold darkness that surpassed the stars.
The Emperor finally turned his full attention to the being before him. He was no longer looking at his son, but at a vessel of ultimate blasphemy, a Chaos-tainted container that had to be ended. He had to destroy Horus.
"Then, as you wish," the Emperor's voice was terrifyingly calm. Today, he had lost two sons and had nearly lost a grandson.
At that exact moment, Khorne sent a signal to Axis.
The time had come. With the Emperor no longer holding back, the Four Chaos Gods would not divert their attention to anything else. Nothing was more important than this battle.
…
In the Webway, Axis had driven the last of the Chaos Daemons back. He stood at the edge of the Webway, and without any hesitation, he stepped out into the raw Immaterium.
Magnus had warned him repeatedly not to go any further, but Axis paid him no mind, pretending to be completely lost in a rage. He had stormed far beyond the area of the Webway that Magnus's psychic power could protect.
Unleashing the full power of the Legendary Super Saiyan, he used his Ki to fire countless green orbs of destructive light, obliterating every daemon as far as the eye could see. Then, using his Ki, he wove a barrier at the Webway's entrance, ensuring no daemon could enter for a short time.
Now floating in the Warp, Axis could clearly see the five titanic figures: the Emperor locked in battle with the Four Chaos Gods. There was a great, fat green being, a red daemon wielding a giant axe, a purple androgynous monster, and a feathered, blue bird-like entity.
The Eldar's Laughing God appeared beside Axis, seemingly from nowhere.
"Now this is an unprecedented sight in the Warp! Hahaha, a once-in-a-millennium opportunity!" the god, dressed as a harlequin jester, said with manic excitement, "Let us make our move, Axis! I will take you to the Garden of Nurgle." In the Warp, time had no meaning. They had all the time they needed.
"Lead the way," Axis nodded, "We go to the Garden now."
The time to act was now. He had to rescue the Goddess of Life.
The Laughing God let out a series of cackling shrieks and performed a bizarre ritual, leadingAxis through the shifting mists of the Warp.
They successfully arrived in a festering green garden, a place overflowing with decay, plague, viruses, and bacteria. In its centre sat a cauldron of unimaginable size. Countless Nurglings and daemons of Nurgle dwelled here.
"We've arrived, my friend."
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ps?