c2: So You're the One Called Erebus
Beneath the merciless sun of Colchis, the rural settlement of Fanredes
Fanredes lay far from Vharadesh, beyond the caravan routes that connected the great Covenant cities. Like most countryside settlements on Colchis, it was built of rough red stone quarried from the desert and timber hauled from the sparse river valleys. Wind-carved statues of robed prophets stood at crossroads, their faces worn smooth by centuries of sandstorms.
In the eyes of the villagers, the achievements of Chen Chen's original body were no less than becoming a planetary laureate in some ancient civilization. At twelve standard years of age, he had mastered the canticles of the Covenant, debated elders at the Convocation of Vharadesh, and been personally commended by a senior prelate of the faith. For a backwater village like Fanredes, that was glory beyond imagination.
Now that the prodigy had returned home bearing with him the sacred teachings of the "Four Saints," the allegorical embodiments of the divine powers worshipped by the Covenant the entire population poured toward the central basilica. Though he was merely a twelve-year-old priest, more than 1,200 villagers crowded into the church to hear him speak.
The village itself was unremarkable. Most dwellings were crude stone cubes or wooden structures reinforced with iron bands. There was no visible trace that Colchis had once possessed advanced technology during forgotten pre-Covenant epochs. Yet the church at its center was magnificent vaulted ceilings, polished black stone floors, and archways etched with scripture in High Colchisian. Suspended above the nave were crystalline resonance arrays ancient relic devices preserved by the Covenant and repurposed to amplify the spoken word.
Chen Chen stood upon the pulpit. Though the basilica could easily hold twice the current assembly, the sheer silence of the gathered crowd made the air feel dense. They looked up at him with reverence bordering on worship.
His gaze swept the congregation. Somewhere among them should be the other boy the ambitious child who, in the original timeline, would murder the true Erebus and steal his identity before eventually rising within the future Word Bearers.
But for now, the sermon came first.
On Colchis, priesthood meant power. The Covenant ruled through scripture, and status within its hierarchy determined access to knowledge, relics, and influence. If Chen Chen wished to alter fate especially the destiny that would one day entwine with Lorgar Aurelian he needed rank.
Lorgar was still in the capital, Vharadesh, being raised and educated under the authority of Kor Phaeron, high prelate of the Covenant. If Chen Chen wished to approach that inner circle in the future, he would need reputation, doctrinal prestige, and visible spiritual authority.
He clasped his hands and began.
"Faithful of Fanredes, I thank you for gathering beneath the gaze of the Four Holy Virtues. May the Saint of Life grant vigor to your bodies, and the Saint of Wisdom clarity to your thoughts."
His voice rang out—clear, rhythmic, perfectly modulated. The resonance arrays hidden within the vaulted ceiling activated in response to the pulpit's pressure plate, subtly amplifying and harmonizing his tone. The sound carried evenly to every corner of the basilica.
A wave of fervor passed through the villagers.
Chen Chen nearly twitched in surprise. These devices were far beyond what the rest of the village suggested. The peasants lived in conditions barely above medieval subsistence, yet the Covenant guarded technological relics within its churches. It was a telling detail: even before the coming of the Imperium, Colchis preserved fragments of lost science but only in service of faith.
As expected of the future cradle of religious fanaticism.
With the resonance systems enhancing his speech, and with the System's earlier "Persuasion +3" sharpening his rhetoric, Chen Chen delivered a masterful sermon. He quoted from the Book of Lorgar, interpreted allegories of the Four Virtues courage, wisdom, endurance, and transcendence and subtly reframed them with layered nuance. The emotional tide in the church rose and fell like waves upon the Warp.
According to his inherited memories, he had witnessed many priests preach before. None had ever stirred such synchronized fervor. If word of this reached higher clerical authorities, his standing within the Covenant would undoubtedly rise.
After the sermon concluded, Chen Chen raised a hand.
"Later today, I shall receive each household privately to hear your burdens and offer blessings. Every family shall depart with a token of grace."
The declaration caused visible emotion among the villagers. They filed outside in orderly rows, forming a long line beneath the brutal sun. Despite the heat, they maintained discipline either silent or whispering prayers to the carved effigies lining the basilica's outer wall.
Chen Chen observed them through a narrow window and sighed inwardly.
The people of Colchis were not monsters. Most were gentle, disciplined, devout. Who could have imagined that this world so orderly and pious would one day become the ideological heart of Chaos worship in the galaxy? That its faith would align fully with Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Slaanesh once Lorgar uncovered the deeper truths of the Warp?
Outside, beneath the blazing sunlight, a boy stood in the queue with his parents.
His head was shaved clean in the Covenant style. His features bore an uncanny resemblance to Chen Chen's own reflection—same sharp eyes, same thin lips. But unlike the composed priest within the basilica, this child radiated impatience.
While others prayed softly, he kicked at stones with barely restrained irritation.
At one point, spotting a younger child who had wandered from his mother's side, he picked up a jagged shard of red desert rock and, with a crooked smile, attempted to pass it off as a sweet treat.
Fortunately, the mother noticed in time and pulled her child away, casting a wary glance at the bald boy.
Chen Chen, watching from above, narrowed his eyes.
That subtle cruelty. That instinctive manipulation.
Under the sun of Colchis, amid the faithful and the innocent
He had found him.
So you're the one called Erebus.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, we will compensate you," Erebus's father said repeatedly, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the stone floor of the basilica courtyard.
His mother gripped Erebus's wrist tightly and explained in a trembling voice, "He is only willful. He did not understand what he was doing. Please forgive him, my lord."
"Tch."
Looking at his humble, dust-stained parents, Erebus felt nothing but contempt. In his eyes, they were weak people who survived by lowering their heads and apologizing to anyone with a higher station in the Covenant hierarchy.
His mother, however, truly believed her son was merely young and misguided. With devotion to the Four Virtues and proper instruction, she was certain he could be reformed.
"Son." She crouched before him, gazing into a face almost identical to the priest's same sharp brow, same ascetic skull marked by early scripture scars. "You must learn from Lord Chen Chen. If you could become even half as accomplished as him, your father and I would have no regrets in this life."
Again.
Always him.
Ever since Chen Chen had been elevated at the Convocation of Vharadesh and granted priestly rank within the Covenant, comparisons had become relentless. The villagers whispered about divine favor. His parents repeated it at every meal. To Erebus, the name was like a litany of humiliation.
The resemblance between them only worsened it. They looked like two reflections cast from the same mold one bathed in reverence, the other dismissed as a delinquent.
Hatred flared within him.
If you want me to become him so badly… why not simply remove him?
The thought crystallized with terrifying clarity.
They shared near-identical features. On Colchis, priests shaved their heads and inscribed scripture upon their skin. If the verses were replicated carefully, if the voice were practiced, if witnesses were few…
Killing would be faster than climbing the hierarchy.
Priesthood meant authority. Servants. Wealth. Access to temple archives. Escape from these suffocating parents.
Erebus's expression shifted. He fell silent and stood obediently in line.
His parents brightened immediately, convinced their lecture had worked. They began praising Chen Chen's virtues againb discipline, piety, intellect. Each word fed Erebus's resolve.
He would observe carefully today. Gain proximity. Earn trust. Find an opportunity later somewhere isolated, perhaps during the month-long preaching tour.
Soon, the family was ushered into the basilica's rear courtyard.
The moment Erebus stepped into view, Chen Chen recognized him instantly.
The resemblance was undeniable. Without that natural similarity, the later impersonation described in the original timeline would have been impossible. Even the inherited memory fragments stirred faint unease.
So this is him.
Chen Chen straightened within his blue vestments, posture measured and aloof. The resonance crystals embedded in the basilica's columns hummed faintly, amplifying even subtle movements and lending an aura of sanctity. On Colchis, perception was half of power.
As expected, Erebus's parents bowed deeply the moment they entered. Their backs curved, their eyes lowered. This was the foundation of the Covenant's authority—hierarchy sanctified by faith.
While listening to their confessions—minor disputes, crop concerns, anxieties about doctrinal purity—Chen Chen studied the boy.
Erebus stood quietly, but his eyes were sharp. Calculating. Measuring distance, posture, vulnerability.
So he's already thinking.
The father spoke at length. An elderly servant stepped forward and presented a small flask sealed with wax: sanctified oil, blessed during the morning rites before the statues representing the Four Virtues—symbolic echoes of the powers that, in truth, corresponded unknowingly to Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Slaanesh.
Normally, the audience would end here. The priest had already granted them more time than most villagers received.
The couple bowed gratefully and turned to leave.
"Wait."
Chen Chen's voice cut through the courtyard.
They froze.
He tilted his chin toward Erebus.
"Boy. Step forward. Kneel."
The command was sharp, edged with deliberate disdain.
Erebus's fists tightened instantly.
Kneel?
To him?
Why should I?
Chen Chen's gaze hardened, projecting the full weight of priestly authority. "I stand as a consecrated priest of the Covenant, invested with divine mandate. You are but a lay believer. When commanded to kneel, you kneel. Or must I interpret your hesitation as defiance against the Four Virtues?"
The accusation was not casual. On Colchis, challenging a priest's authority bordered on blasphemy.
Erebus trembled not from fear of Chen Chen, but from fury.
He had bullied children in alleys, extorted weaker youths, never bowed to anyone his age.
But his father stepped closer.
The old man's hands were thick with calluses from years of labor in quarry pits. He adored his son but he feared the gods more. In the Covenant's worldview, defiance against sanctified authority invited not merely punishment, but damnation.
Even death would be justified.
Erebus understood.
If he resisted now, his father might strike him down without hesitation.
Thud.
His knees slammed against the stone floor.
His face flushed dark red, humiliation burning hotter than the desert sun.
[Negative emotions from Erebus +100, +100…]
Chen Chen nearly felt the surge physically—far more potent than anything Old Joram had produced.
Oh.
So this is the emotional output of a future architect of heresy.
He slowly extended his right foot forward, letting the hem of his blue robe fall back just enough to reveal the sole of his sandal.
"Since you kneel," Chen Chen said calmly, voice echoing in the courtyard, "show proper reverence."
The air grew heavy.
Hatred, humiliation, murderous intent
All of it churned beneath the surface, like the first stirrings of a Warp storm yet to come.