Chapter 381: The Emperor Above, We Hate You

Blood flowed across the battlefield, the Eternal Wall standing like an insurmountable barrier.

Father Cepeš had heard the legend of the Doon-forged Wall ten thousand times, and told it ten thousand times.

But this was the first time in his life he saw it with his own eyes—and never had he hated it so deeply.

Cepeš had been a devout child from birth, worshiping the Emperor with unmatched reverence.

He revered the Emperor's courage, for in the gloom of the Old Night, only the Emperor dared rise to save all humanity.

He revered the Emperor's power, for xenos, demons, and traitors could never overcome the Emperor and His loyal humans.

He revered the Emperor's justice, for only the Emperor protected humanity against evil and corruption.

Because of this, Cepeš became a priest of the Imperial Cult, voluntarily journeying to the most chaotic, lawless, and impoverished hive districts to spread the Emperor's faith.

He wished to possess even a billionth of the Emperor's courage, power, and justice—to protect the weak and poor.

He had always believed this, always acted this way, using his humblest strength to shield the Emperor's subjects.

Until the rift tore open the galaxy, until the Day of Blindness descended, until hunger, drought, and suffocation spread through the hive.

Father Cepeš watched in confusion as one by one his faithful followers died, saw them forced to gnaw on the flesh of kin, drink the blood of the dead—yet still could not escape death.

But what of the nobles, overseers, merchants, and lords who ruled Terra in the Emperor's name?

Their palaces never lacked food; their granaries never ceased hoarding; their feasts consumed a family's yearly rations.

They used the last remaining supply lines to transport soldiers, ammunition, and apples and pears—but refused to send even a drop of food or water to the poor.

Father Cepeš was lost. He knelt before the saint's bones in his small chapel, praying to the Emperor a thousand times.

Why do You deliver such cruel fate to Your subjects?

Why must faithful believers who die still devoted only know hunger?

Why do those who rule in Your name refuse to protect the humblest of mortals?

Emperor, who has sat silent upon the Golden Throne for ten thousand years,

Open your mouth and tell me,

Tell Your most wretched subjects why You refuse to protect us.

The Emperor did not answer—but another god answered Father Cepeš.

The saint's bones bled, baptizing Father Cepeš.

That god asked nothing of Cepeš's faith; He never craved false devotion.

That god asked nothing of Cepeš's sacrifice; He never desired the blood of beasts.

That god blessed Cepeš—but demanded only that he kill.

"Emperor!"

Father Cepeš stood atop an altar built of furious, starving, raging mortals, roaring at the Eternal Wall:

"I understand! I understand!"

"I know how to protect Your subjects!"

"With courage! With power! With justice! With kill! With kill! With kill!"

"KILL!!!!"

But Father Cepeš's roar cut short.

The veil of reality trembled violently; the twisted mortals, swarming like ants into a tide of blood, were violently scattered, their corpses, blood, and organs raining down.

Uncontrolled psychic energy surged outward, shattering the half-beast, half-human guards surrounding Cepeš.

A woman clad in washed-out gray-green Cadian armor, a deep scar beneath her left eye, suddenly landed upon the flesh altar.

The altar shattered under the force of her psychic power, flesh and blood exploding outward; Father Cepeš fell from midair, crashing to the ground.

But the woman in Cadian armor channeled immense psychic energy, charging at Cepeš like a cannon.

Cepeš let out a savage laugh and slammed his battle standard down at the psychic woman.

Hanging from the standard was the holy corpse from his chapel.

No—it was never the Emperor's saintly remains. It was the corpse of one blessed by the Blood God, the corpse of one who wrought endless slaughter in ancient Terra, the corpse of one who once sought to protect his realm through slaughter.

By bloodline, Father Cepeš was his descendant; the Blood God chose him to inherit the ancestral blood of slaughter, madness, and roar.

Blood poured from the corpse, surging like a tide toward the psychic woman.

Powerful psychic energy clashed with the tide of slaughter and rage.

Ten thousand years of bloody faith erupted from the corpse, instantly hurling the psychic woman backward.

But.

Father Cepeš turned his head in confusion, seeing the psychic woman now standing behind him, wearing a ridiculous hat.

Psychic sorcery?

Yet in the Blood God's blessed domain, how could such weak power possibly work?

The mechanical hand on the ridiculous hat suddenly pointed at Cepeš—a force utterly unlike psychic energy instantly restrained him.

Then, a violent psychic roar slammed into Cepeš's body.

Flesh twisted, the world spun, blood splattered the earth, the Eternal Wall loomed above Father Cepeš.

He crashed to the ground, every bone in his body shattered.

Cepeš felt his body below the chest had been utterly torn apart by psychic force—even the Blood God's blessing could not save him.

Had it not been for the blood, rage, and lust for slaughter still coursing through him, he would already be dead.

"Emperor..."

Cepeš spat blood, watching the woman in gray-green Cadian armor appear before him.

"Go kill."

He screamed with his last remaining breath:

"Go kill! Go kill! Go kill!"

But the powerful psychic woman remained expressionless, merely raising her arm, wrapped in psychic energy.

"First Assault!!!"

Yet at that moment, a roar erupted from behind the woman, before the Eternal Wall.

She turned in shock—she realized Cepeš's tactic.

Cepeš himself was merely bait; strategy and tactics belonged also to the God of Blood and War.

A brute, his head sprouting horns, his body mutated into crimson, muscles grotesquely exposed, charged toward the Eternal Wall.

In his hand, he gripped a thick iron blade shaped like a horseshoe, scaling a ladder of piled corpses toward the Wall's peak.

Lasers, artillery, and bolters rained down upon the monstrous brute.

But the ladder beneath his feet—built of slaughter, blood, and corpses—functioned like an altar, continuously channeling the Blood God's blessing into his body.

All ranged fire became useless; the brute's body swelled further, becoming more demon than man, moving faster and faster.

"Faithful servants of the Emperor! Do you know Terra has never been guarded by only one god?"

"From the first moment humans forged swords, the Blood God cast His gaze upon Terra."

"He protects nothing! But He gives us courage and power—to seek justice and desire through slaughter!"

"He gave us the greatest fairness: the fairness of violence!"

Father Cepeš laughed savagely, wildly:

"That blade was forged from the horseshoe that crushed the last Caliph."

"Even the shadow of a god can be slain by violence!"

"Fall, Doon's Eternal Wall!"

As if hearing Cepeš's roar, the monstrous brute raised his horseshoe blade high, ready to strike the Eternal Wall.

"I am the First Assault!"

"The First Among Ten Thousand!"

Roars, howls, rage, and blood surged along the Wall's ramparts.

The brute climbed to the Wall's peak; the Blood God whispered praise, and the horseshoe blade swung down with crushing force.

Neither mortal nor Astartes could match his speed—he was nearly unstoppable.

But the Wall held more than mortals and Astartes.

Sergeant Valerian left only a golden afterimage before him, his spear of Knowledge driving straight through the brute's chest.

The ancient disintegration field erupted—the mutated body dissolved into a flare, vanishing from the Wall.

Only the horseshoe blade remained, falling from the Wall to land in the muddy, blood-soaked, corpse-strewn earth.

"You failed," Leina said calmly, raising her hand to end the fallen priest's life.

"No."

Father Cepeš whispered.

Then, a thunderous roar echoed across the Eternal Wall—eight grotesque beams of bloodlight rose from afar.

Like a veil torn, like a curtain shattered, reality screamed; the sky was drenched in blood.

A torrent of crimson rain fell from the clouds; cracks appeared on the Eternal Wall, standing for ten thousand years.

In an instant, all saw another dimension:

The dimension of the Unborn, the dimension of the Blood God, the dimension of demons.

Now, the Imperial Palace and reality were no longer as firm; war cries rose beneath reality; the Blood God's legions marched across the crimson wastes of the Warp, across burning hives, tearing the veil with winds of slaughter, stepping into reality.

"Did you think only I existed?!"

"Did you think only we existed?!"

So many people are filled with rage, so many crave slaughter—just one success is enough!

This is the justice won by courage and strength!

Cepeș screamed with his last ounce of strength:

"Divine Emperor above! Open your eyes!"

"Open your eyes and see! See how many are filled with rage!!"

"Divine Emperor!! We all hate you!!!"

His head burst apart under Leina's psychic force.

In an instant, a rain of blood drowned all of Terra,

the palace, the Throne Hall, the Eternal Gate opened with a heavy sound,

brilliant light shone and flickered, and a corpse sat slumped upon the throne at the hall's end,

its head bowed, violet tears streaming from its hollow eye sockets.

(End of Chapter)