Aboard the Vengeful Spirit, in the Council Chamber.
Horus Lupercal raised his arms, as if cradling the growing sphere of light.
"Thirteen years ago, my brother Corvus Corax, leading the 27th Expedition Fleet, brought this world into compliance."
"He didn't finish the job." Angron sneered.
"Evidently not. Four months ago, I received a distress signal from Isstvan," Mortarion said.
"We only received it by chance. A supply ship, en route to Akturan to rendezvous with the fleet, had to drop out of the Warp for emergency repairs."
"Given the signal's degradation and the time it took to reach me, it was sent at least two years ago."
"I checked the War Council reports. The Raven Guard wiped out the resistance in the Rydas Mountains."
As he spoke, Maloghurst, the Warmaster's Equerry, switched the display to the corresponding region.
A mountain range on Isstvan III's northern continent flashed red.
Mortarion nodded to Maloghurst. "The local colonies maintained a highly cohesive, industrialized society for millennia. The system's industrial infrastructure and population are vital to the Imperium."
"When our father made His decision, He gave the task to Corax, forbidding overwhelming force to avoid excessive damage."
"But clearly, xenos and psychic influences persisted, and the rebellion was primarily driven by religious motives."
Mortarion said, with disgust, "They were a marginalized cult, long suppressed by the mainstream society during compliance."
"Due to the dual needs of administration and military control, Major Vardu Sprall of the 11th Rastran Regiment, who had political experience in the Segmentum Ultima, was appointed Planetary Governor."
"He did well at first. Until he moved against the War-Singers."
With a gesture from Mortarion, Maloghurst moved his control rod.
The holographic sphere flattened, transforming into a giant screen.
A faint image emerged: a woman, her face slick with sweat, breathing heavily, in a cramped, stone-walled space.
"The badge on her collar is from the 27th Expedition Fleet," said Lord Commander Eidolon, standing beside Fulgrim.
Amidst the chaotic background of gunfire and shouts, she cried out: "This is an uprising! The War-Singers reject everything."
"We tried to help them integrate. We thought they were just primitive-" Static crackled.
"Superstition but it's not. It's all real."
"Governor Sprall has gone mad. The War-Singers support him."
"I request reinforcements... please... send hel-"
The image dissolved. Horus's expression was grim.
"Brother, I thank you for bringing this crucial information."
Maloghurst manipulated the control rod. The hologram swelled, becoming Isstvan III.
Horus raised his hand. "The cultural and religious center of Isstvan is here."
The image zoomed in on a city in the planet's northern hemisphere, on a vast plain at the foot of a great mountain range.
"Hymn City is the source of the distress signal. It's also where Sprall's palace is located."
"The assault forces of each Legion will be assigned a series of strategic objectives."
"The enemy is entrenched in fortifications on the city's western side."
The western edge of the city was highlighted, revealing a network of bunkers and trenches.
Mortarion walked to his side. "Warmaster, this is a natural battleground for the Death Guard."
"The Prelate's Palace is the Governor's mansion. Sprall is most likely hiding there."
The image shifted, revealing an ornate dome surrounded by a maze of arches and towers.
Fulgrim stared at the beautiful building, like a jewel in the heart of Hymn City.
"The Emperor's Children will secure it."
"The plaza complex adjacent to the palace is the city's main transport hub. The rebels can use it to launch quick attacks."
"The World Eaters will secure it, and push outward to occupy the entire city."
Angron nodded, satisfied. "I like this killing field."
"The uprising in Hymn City is religiously motivated. The Screaming Citadel is the planet's religious center."
The image finally settled on a sprawling complex. Its layered layout could hide many dangers.
"The 'Sons of Horus' will secure it, destroying the heart of the old, heretical faith."
"Once the monitoring station on the seventh planet of the Isstvan system's outer reaches is destroyed, blinding the rebels, we can strike."
"The first wave will deploy via drop pods and gunships. The second wave will support as needed."
Seeing each Legion understood its task, Horus set aside his stern demeanor and smiled.
"Now, if you'll step outside to prepare."
"There are some things we brothers need to discuss."
Erebus and the other advisors filed out through the different arches.
Horus walked back to his throne, retrieving three thick, leather-bound books.
He approached his three brothers, a smile on his face. "Russ has given me a book. The Codex Omega. It contains the Wolves' valuable experience from their war against the Thousand Sons on Prospero."
He had used that war to defeat an enemy the Four feared, the Thousand Sons. He had also weakened Russ's Wolves.
His only failure was the pointless sacrifice of Boros Khun and nearly five thousand warriors, who had not brought him the assets he needed.
'The Thousand Sons cared more about their civilians than I expected. Those psykers.'
Horus had never imagined the Thousand Sons would save civilians while their world was burning.
Yet Hathor had led his Scarab Occult Terminators, Dreadnoughts, and thousands of warriors deep into the fallen city to rescue them.
He gathered his thoughts, turning his attention to the unexpected gift in his hands.
"The experience of Astartes fighting Astartes."
"For our great undertaking, we will have to fight our brother Legions."
"This invaluable knowledge has been secretly shared within the warrior lodges. The Sons of Horus are ready. I expect you to be ready soon as well."
Mortarion was the first to take the thick book. "I will make good use of it."
Fulgrim followed, flipping through it. Seeing the crude, unartistic battle diagrams, he closed it with a grimace.
Angron knocked the book from Horus's hand. "Russ is nothing but my inferior."
"No one needs to teach us how to kill. The World Eaters are born warriors."
Horus's expression remained unchanged. He knew Russ had once been sent by their father to restrain Angron.
He had found Angron on Markoya. A brief but bloody battle had erupted.
Angron had defeated Russ, only to be surrounded by his Wolf Guard.
Angron had put himself in danger through his blood rage, but he was undoubtedly a powerful warrior.
If he wanted to defeat Nareth and Sanguinius, he would need Angron's strength.
Of course, he hoped Sanguinius would accept the gift of his Warp-allies on Signus.
And Nareth had already walked into his trap. He hoped Omegon would slow him down.
Horus looked at his three brothers. "I trust you have brought those who must be sacrificed for our great undertaking to Isstvan."
"Of course." Mortarion was the first to speak. "Those who do not follow me wholeheartedly, their resilient bodies will be broken."
Fulgrim said nothing. A voice echoed in his mind.
"You know, for our great work of perfection, for you and the Warmaster, sacrifice is necessary."
He sighed. "I grieve that they cannot achieve perfection. Magnificent Isstvan will be their grand tomb."
"I will take care of them," Angron said, at last.
Horus frowned. "What do you mean, 'take care of them'?"
"Tell me, Angron, have you not prepared, as I commanded?"
"Khârn told me he could not contact my cowardly sons. Perhaps they fled. Perhaps they died in the storms."
Fulgrim glanced at Angron. 'You do not value the lives of the World Eaters. Naturally, they do not respect you.'
"You…" Horus's brow rose. Angron could not even command his own sons, at such a critical moment.
He was about to lash out at Angron's incompetence, but forced himself to hold back.
After a long silence, he said, "The arrow is on the string. It must fly."
"We proceed with the plan."
"We will deal with them together."
As Horus ended the private meeting, on the strike cruiser Andronius, the Emperor's Children were holding their own gathering.
....
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