Chapter 172: God Said, "Let There Be..."
Francis stared at nothing in particular, processing the impossible.
He was Rangdan. His father had defeated him. He'd apparently killed one of his brothers. None of this made sense. This didn't make sense!
But the fleshy monsters kept calling to him, their voices almost hopeful: "Sir, is this how you do it?"
Francis said nothing. The entire battlefield had gone silent.
Then his voice cut through: "Kill them all. That one, that one, and those over there."
The daemons went very still. They'd thought this was a hunt. They'd been wrong about who the hunters were.
The enormous flesh-monster lunged.
"Sunguinius, I want to spread my faith," Francis announced, settling into a chair with a cup of tea. "I'm going to start a religion and become a god. Want to join?"
Sanguinius's eye twitched.
Behind Francis, the Rangdan was busy. A corrupted Nurgle follower shrieked as tentacles grabbed it and burst it open, pus fountaining across the battlefield.
Other Nurgle daemons didn't have time to dodge; they became paste under massive feet, their remains mixing with the monster's footsteps to form a disgusting swamp.
Sanguinius stared in silence.
"You know the Imperium's stance on traitorous acts," he said carefully. "Especially religion. Have you forgotten the Imperial Truth?"
He was trying to sound like he was scolding Francis. In reality, he was desperately hoping the thing behind Francis wouldn't crush him a second time.
Lorgar had built only one perfect city and was broken for it.
What was Francis doing here?
The Rangdan's tentacles whipped out in all directions, casually swatting down Slaanesh Daemonettes that tried to flee. They fell like insects. Some daemons panicked, shoving each other, trying to escape, only to get surrounded by tentacles and ripped apart before they could even scream.
The chaos eggs rolled across the ground, trying to escape, but the giant beast's movements left no openings. One massive hand slammed down, crushing them into a foul-smelling puddle.
"Brother, do you think anyone still believes in the Imperial Truth?" Francis took another sip of tea. It was excellent: Catachan leaves, black tea processing, a sweet aftertaste with a hint of sweet potato. He'd gotten the recipe right.
"Look at our father. Is he a man or a god?"
"All I know is that he is our father," Sanguinius said flatly.
"C'mon, aren't you tired enough?" Francis continued cheerfully. "You keep turning into giant meteorites. You've got more eyes on your body than I do!"
Sanguinius stared at him. Then he stared at the massive asteroid behind him, covered in ribbon-like appendages and countless floating eyes.
He said nothing. Because there was nothing to say, he couldn't go back to what he wanted. And he wasn't going to tell Francis that.
The Blood Angels and Thousand Sons stood frozen, watching the slaughter unfold.
"Is this... a comfortable battle?" one of them managed.
"This is not reasonable," another said slowly.
"But in front of him, it seems... reasonable?" a third finished.
The Soul Drinkers, however, looked completely unsurprised.
A Thousand Sons officer turned to them. "This is rare. Aren't you shocked at all?"
A Soul Drinker sitting nearby with a can of food stared blankly, mouth still full, unable to form coherent words.
Another one swallowed and answered: "Isn't this basic doctrine? Our Primarch says war isn't about hot-blooded courage. It's about maximum victory at minimum cost. You guys... you're not still using that old trick of screaming about bravery and charging into melee, are you?"
The Blood Angels "....."
In the distance, explosions echoed. Daemons shrieked their last curses.
"I'll return for vengeance!"
"How despicable!"
The screaming faded into the distance. Francis listened to the daemon death-wails with obvious satisfaction. Nothing could have pleased him more.
After the flesh-monster finished obliterating the enemy forces, he banished it back to the Warp with a casual wave.
The religion pitch hadn't convinced Sanguinius. But he also couldn't come up with a better argument.
So after they finished cleansing the planet, they just... kept going and following Sanguinius's campaign against the rebellion in the Calixis Sector, with Francis and his increasingly inexplicable situation in tow.
On Prokos, the situation was dire.
Flesh-and-blood monsters ravaged the streets, their forms twisted beyond description. Mutilated human limbs hung from their bodies, fused into the grotesque mass. Faces still recognizable in the chaos. Every movement brought screams and despair.
Survivors fled. Parents shielded children. The streets became a nightmare without end, claws raking, tentacles reaching, mouths devouring.
The stench of blood was thick enough to choke on.
In the city's heart stood an ancient sanctuary. Its walls were cracked, eroded by time and chaos, but it still stood. Still radiated something almost holy. Inside, the survivors had gathered, praying in desperation. They could hear the monsters getting closer. The doors wouldn't hold.
Then they stopped.
The monsters halted at the sanctuary's threshold, claws and tentacles frozen mid-strike.
A priest in a holy robe stepped out, holding a shimmering copy of the Sacred Words. He stood beneath the Emperor's statue, facing the twisted horde, his frame thin but his gaze like steel.
"Great God-Emperor, light within light, bulwark against darkness, truth that Chaos cannot shake! Protect your people! Grant us salvation!" His voice cut through the air like thunder.
The monsters froze solid, their movements stiffening. The flesh began to tremble.
The priest's eyes widened. It worked; his desperate plea for help worked.
"Everyone, repeat after me! The God-Emperor protects us! This is a miracle! The divine Emperor himself has manifested! The glory of the God-Emperor is everywhere!"
The crowd emerged from the sanctuary, knelt, and shouted in unison: "The glory of the God-Emperor is everywhere!"
At that precise moment, a voice from the sky, kind, benevolent, utterly absurd:
"Don't be afraid, everyone! The great God-Emperor has sent the Son of God and angels!"
Every flesh-and-blood monster on the planet stopped. Then they ran in perfect synchronization toward a single point.
The crowd looked up.
Francis floated in the sky. Gilded in Golden armor, with Wings radiating from his back, A literal halo of light that probably wasn't strictly necessary but looked good. Beside him hung that massive asteroid, radiating golden brilliance.
"I am the Eleventh Son of the God-Emperor," Francis proclaimed with maximum solemnity. "He is the Ninth Son. The God-Emperor heard your prayers and sent us to save you."
The Soul Drinkers made sure to broadcast this to every corner of the planet, making sure every living soul saw it.
The people hesitated for a moment, and then Francis did what he did best.
"Sinful aliens! How dare you harm the Imperium's people! By my authority as the Eleventh Divine Son, I hereby exile you! Leave! Now! Begone to the Gates of Hell!"
Magnus, hiding in the shadows with a grumpy expression, got his cue. He waved one hand and tore open a Warp rift.
When Francis had told him earlier that they should "co-star as divine sons" and make a big show of it together, Magnus had been less than thrilled. But now? Now he was committed to the bit.
What happened next defied the belief of every man on the planet.
The flesh-and-blood monsters bowed to the crowd.
Then, using Rangdan's crude telepathic understanding, they mimed what they'd been told to write: They scratched "Forgive me, for I have sinned" in Gothic letters across the ruined streets.
The monsters couldn't read; they were following Francis's telepathic instructions, but the crowd didn't know that.
One by one, the monsters walked into the Warp rift. The portal sealed behind the last one.
The planet erupted in chorus of cheers for the divine son of God-Emperor.
"The God-Emperor has manifested!"
"Thank you, Eleventh Divine, Son!"
"Thank you, Ninth Divine, Son!"
People knelt. They prayed. Some wept. Some threw themselves on the ground and kissed the sanctuary steps. Statues of the Emperor, Francis, and Sanguinius seemed to glow with new significance.
But Francis wasn't done.
He radiated even brighter, and his voice boomed across the planet: "God said, everyone should eat their fill!"
A massive rift opened in the sky.
Thousands of silvery canned goods rained down like manna. They glimmered in the sunlight as they fell, landing gently on streets and squares, rolling into the hands of starving citizens.
People froze, Unable to believe their eyes.
A thin child bent down, picked up a can, and held it as if it were made of glass. The child's mother opened it with shaking hands. Inside were chunks of fragrant meat.
Tears spilled down her face immediately. "It's the God-Emperor's blessing! He's protecting us!"
The crowd moved like a tide. Bending down and picking up cans and passing them hand to hand, eyes shining with gratitude.
An elderly priest raised the Imperial emblem high and screamed: "This is the mercy of the God-Emperor! The Ninth and Eleventh Divine Sons! They haven't forgotten us! They're watching over us!"
The entire planet dropped to its knees, holding cans in trembling hands, looking at the sky.
"Glory to the God-Emperor! Glory to the Ninth Divine Son! Glory to the Eleventh Divine Son! They are our protectors! Our light!"
[End of Chapter]
Want to read more than 50+ chapters right now!
patreon.com/cw/Mr_UmU
https://www.patreon.com/Mr_UmU
____
Want bonus chapters? You got it.
Goal: 350 – Achieved: 329 = 2 Bonus Chapters
📌 1 Power Stone on the Book Page = 100 on Chapter Pages!
!! VISIT the BOOK PAGE to donate your Power Stone.