Warhammer 40k: Rise of the Great Horned Rat

Chapter 170 170: Emperor’s Children: "Look Behind You~" Alpha Legion: "Look Behind You!"

Shalaxi Helbane leapt with the speed of a lightning strike, lunging directly for Isha. The Yncarne, Avatar of Ynnead, immediately moved to intercept, and the newborn god of the Aeldari clashed with the Slaaneshi Greater Daemon in a blur of violence.

Yvraine and Lelith Hesperax rushed to Isha's side. The Mother Goddess, a figure of breathtaking beauty, her gaze heavy with maternal sorrow yet radiating a revitalizing aura of life, opened her eyes to behold her two children.

"Our Mother... you have finally returned to us!" Yvraine clung to Isha, terrified that this might be nothing more than a cruel, fleeting dream.

Isha was visibly moved. Long ago, when the Aeldari pantheon was severed from their people, Isha's weeping had manifested in the material universe as Isha's Tears, the spirit stones the Asuryani now used to shield their souls from the rapacity of Slaanesh. Her devotion to her progeny remained as boundless as ever.

"Protect the Mother Goddess! Get her out of here now!" Yvraine commanded. She and Lelith moved to support the weakened goddess while Drazhar turned back to hold the line against the encroaching Slaaneshi daemons.

The Avatar of Khaine, pinned down by N'Kari and a tide of daemonic legions, was unable to break away. In the midst of this chaos, the Lion and the Wolf found themselves in an agonizingly awkward position.

The two Primarchs looked from the Xenos to the daemons, uncertain of their target. To strike the Aeldari first felt like aiding the scions of Chaos, a choice they would rather die than make. Yet, to strike the daemons first meant allowing a Xenos entity of immense significance to escape, which felt dangerously close to heresy. Either path seemed to lead toward the brand of a traitor.

Finally, Leman Russ let out a frustrated roar. He charged toward the vortex of combat where the Yncarne and Shalaxi were locked in battle, plunging his blade, Mjalnar, the Sword of Balenight, directly into the fray.

The "Savage" persona was a useful mask; Russ knew exactly how delicate the situation was. Attacking the Aeldari goddess risked aiding Chaos; attacking the daemons risked aiding the Xenos. His solution? Act the reckless barbarian and attack everyone at once. He would leave the philosophical dilemma to the Lion.

"Dammit! I've never fought a more troublesome battle! Die, the lot of you!"

With the fury of a wild man, Russ swung a blow at the Yncarne. The sheer mass of the strike forced the Avatar of Ynnead to recoil several steps. Shalaxi saw an opening and lunged with its spear to pierce the Yncarne's heart, but the Wolf King didn't stop. His power sword arced through the air, shearing toward Shalaxi's androgynous chest.

VROOOOM—!

The monomolecular teeth of his frost blade shrieked as the disruption field tore through the daemon's unnaturally smooth, supernatural flesh.

"Aaaaagh! You... you dare mar my perfect skin?!" Shalaxi shrieked, looking down at the jagged ruin carved into its flawless violet hide. The daemon turned its gaze toward the Wolf King, trembling with narcissistic rage.

Russ, playing the part of the Fenrisian brute to perfection, simply raised a middle finger. "Listen here, you freak! I'm going to chop off every 'extra' part of you and feed them to the wolves!" He pointedly glanced at the area beneath Shalaxi's ornate silk loincloth, his eyes filled with mocking intent.

This sent Shalaxi into a true frenzy. It had recently been humiliated by the Great Horned Rat, a true Dark God, but it would not suffer the insolence of a demigod who didn't even understand his own true nature.

Lion El'Jonson's golden brow furrowed. He leapt forward, landing before Yvraine and her charge, the Lion Sword raised high. "You shall not leave this place alive, xenos!"

Lelith's expression darkened, and even Yvraine bristled, but Isha sensed the Lion's nature. Despite her weakened state, she could feel that this human demigod, like herself, had his true essence locked away.

"Demigod of Mankind," she spoke softly, "In the face of the Warp's daemons, the creatures of the mortal realm must stand as one."

The Lion gave a dismissive flick of his brow, not deigning to answer. To him, there was no hierarchy of "damned," xenos and daemons were equally deserving of extinction.

But then, as Slaanesh's roar echoed with a shivering hunger for Isha, the skies above Dulan began to blister. Massive, pulsating purple Warp-rifts tore open across the firmament.

Through these tears came more than just the slender, twisted silhouettes of Slaaneshi daemons. Rhino APCs and Thunderhawks bearing the Aquila began to descend.

"Hehehe~ For the Emperor~!"

Accompanied by that mocking, sing-song battle cry, Chaos Space Marines clad in regal purple, their chests still bearing the Imperial Eagle, began to deploy.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bolters barked in the hands of the Emperor's Children. Helbrutes, monstrosities of fused flesh and iron, emerged with agonized howls. Working in tandem with the daemons, the Third Legion began to slaughter their "battle-brothers" from ten millennia ago. The sheer blasphemy of the act seemed to fuel their perverse joy.

"What is this? The Third Legion? What are you doing?!"

The Dark Angels and Space Wolves were momentarily paralyzed. They could not fathom why the Emperor's Children were fighting alongside the Neverborn. Caught off guard, their lines were momentarily shattered by the traitorous assault.

Noise Marines began to strum their sonic weapons, unleashing indiscriminate waves of cacophony that tore through human and Aeldari alike. The Flawless Blades, eager to prove their superiority, rushed to engage the ancient scions of the First and Sixth Legions.

Five Helbrutes stomped toward a pack of Space Wolf Dreadnoughts. The ancients finally reacted, meeting the traitors in a brutal, mechanical melee. It was a symphony of crushing blows, hammers against claws, like heavy transports colliding at high speed.

"What madness is this? Has Fulgrim truly turned?!" The Lion was so shocked he momentarily forgot his intent to strike Isha.

The Lion could not grasp the full scope of the tragedy, but as the First Son and a man of absolute honor, he could not tolerate such desecration. He turned his back on the Aeldari and charged the Emperor's Children.

"Who are you?! What are you?!" The Lion roared, his blade severing the arms of a Flawless Blade champion in a single, fluid motion.

"We are your battle-brothers, we are the Sons of the Emperor! Hahaha!" The warrior laughed hysterically even as he lost his limbs, until the Primarch took his head.

"Ignore the Third Legion! They consort with daemons! Slay them all, they are no longer the brothers you knew!" the Lion commanded.

"Then... are we still brothers?"

A sibilant, eerie voice hissed from behind him. Simultaneously, a pair of blades, moving with a speed that rivaled even a Primarch's reflexes, lunged toward the Lion's back.

The Lion couldn't dodge entirely. He threw himself forward but felt the cold bite of steel in his shoulder. He spun around, teeth bared, to see a creature of nightmares: a massive, serpentine horror with the face of a beautiful, drug-addled prince and four prehensile arms.

"Fulgrim...? No. You dare wear my brother's face, monster? I will end you!" El'Jonson refused to acknowledge the thing before him as kin.

"Hahaha! Your naivety is delicious, Lion. No matter. I shall take this opportunity to carve a look of ecstasy onto that dour face of yours." The Daemon Primarch Fulgrim grinned, revealing rows of silvered teeth, before turning his gaze toward Yvraine and Isha. "Do not run, my loves~ Before She-Who-Thirsts has Her way with you, I shall enjoy every position imaginable. It is my due reward~"

Yvraine and Lelith broke into a cold sweat; Isha's face was a mask of despair. The Slaaneshi forces were swelling by the second as more traitors and daemons poured from the rifts.

"That remains to be seen."

A cold, detached voice rang out from behind Fulgrim. A pale spear lunged forward, narrowly missing the Phoenician's back.

"Who else?! Who else is here?!" The Lion felt he was reaching his breaking point. He and Fulgrim both turned in irritation to see a bald warrior clad in the Scales of the Pythia, wielding the Pale Spear.

"Alpharius... or Omegon?"

Both the Lion and Fulgrim asked the same question simultaneously, then immediately looked disgusted by their shared intuition.

"Alpharius," Omegon replied dismissively. Internally, he cursed the Great Horned Rat. It went against every instinct of the Alpha Legion to reveal themselves before the endgame, yet they had been forced to act.

As the Primarch appeared, certain warriors among the Dark Angels, Space Wolves, and even the Emperor's Children shed their disguises. Revealing the teal and silver of the Alpha Legion, they turned their weapons upon the Slaaneshi daemons and the Third Legion.

"When did you infiltrate my Legion?! Dammit, I'll deal with you when this is over!" The Lion was livid, but assuming this was a "loyalist" Alpharius, he decided to save the interrogation for later.

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