That fat bastard.

'Why? You ask me why? Have all those millennia taught you nothing? '

The scene unfolded in his mind, as it had a hundred times since it happened, the deep bellows of Horus rang through his ears. Once upon a time, long ago, he had respected Horus, nearly loved him as a brother. Horus and Daemonicus had fought side by side, and back to back a thousand times over, always conquering in the bloody and unstoppable name of Chaos, converting those who would, and slaying those who would not. With their combined forces, they had managed wildly successful raids on the Imperium shipyards, their guerilla tactics ensured them minimal loses despite the impressive standing forces of the Emperor, one by one boarding each of the massive Space Hulks. Half were reprogrammed, and sent on autopilot towards the outreaches of the Eye of Terror. The other half were set to self destruct. When the defending forces realized within seconds their most powerful ships were suddenly breaking out of their defensive orbit, they quickly mobilized their fighter squadrons to intercept. But like a stack of dominos, the remaining ships each detonated, the explosions tore apart the shipyards from the inside out, decimating what ships survived. Or back on the Old World, when they had successfully drove the stalwart dwarves from deep within the catacombs of Mt. Karak'Ta'Karn. It had seemed nothing could drive the dwarven army out of their ancestral home.

Horus and Daemonicus had tried, time and time again, new tactics, each growing in dizzying elaboration as the previous failed. First, they'd attempted to simply push them out, through sheer weight of numbers, letting loose hordes of Goblins and Skavens, hoping to wear the dwarfs out. This had become a disastrous failure, as the dwarfs unleashed their terrible war machines, their defenses near impossible, not a single Skaven scout could sneak through the tunnels and return alive. Then, Horus and Daemonicus tried a more subtle approach, attempting to seduce the minds of the leaders and key players, hoping to cause dissent within the ranks, then feed the animosity, and cause the foolish dwarven armies to slaughter themselves within their own home. However their powerful runes of protection had halted any magical intrusion. Finally, after months of attempts, the Chaos forces outside the mountain began to grow impatient, and fight amongst themselves, despite the efforts of the two generals to calm them. When all out war between the two forces broke out, the Dwarven army saw their opportunity, and poured out of the mountain in the thousands, flanking the two armies, and nearly decimating every spawn of Chaos in their wake.

Heh.. dwarfs. So predictable.

The plan worked like clockwork. Form dissent within the Chaos ranks, and simply wait uptop the mountain for the dwarfs to take the bait. Then, steal into the mountain, and use their own warmachines against them. Indeed, century upon century counted by, the names of Daemonicus and Horus spread throughout the multiverse, the two always neck and neck in their quest to shine brightest in the eyes of their dark Fathers, rising above all other challengers.

That fat, cocky bastard.

Finally it came time for the great heresy. One man had to be selected out of the thousands of contestants. Horus and Daemonicus had elevated high above the rest, and resided on the same plateau. One had to be chosen.

Sounds like an earth movie…[ Continue ]

written by Michael Littlefield