The Wayward Son

Weeks ago, Perturabo

Perturabo moved with purpose into the sealed chamber of his personal workshop which was wholly empty minus himself and various autonomous machines working on cleaning and repairing a massive object within.

The Lord of Iron walked over a long bridge and towards the front of the object which was revealed to be some type of titan. It had wings akin to a phoenix, but they were powered down and looked almost skeletal without their unknown power source.

The titan's head flickered dimly with psychic light as Perturabo stared at it. The primarch sighed heavily as he went to work operating some type of crane system to power it up. The power source was a mixture of untainted souls, dark matter, and a massive black Aeldari crystal. He moved them into a half empty hole at the center of the titan's chest.

A few moments passed as the light on the titan's head flickered a bit brighter now. It barely did much to power the Aeldari monstrosity, but the newly added power seemed to almost wake the machine up as its head slowly turned down to look at Perturabo.

The primarch looked between several consoles until he saw the titan was alert. He briefly pondered over the minor success of powering the titan as he looked over at the materials he used. They were gone and the black crystal was completely drained of energy now. A few seconds passed before the crystal simply shattered and rained out of the hole in its chest.

"Damn it…that was the last one." he muttered aloud as he glanced up at the titan's head again.

Deciding to see if it had any form of cognitive awareness, Perturabo spoke to it in the Aeldari language, "Are you awake?"

A long silence passed before an eldar-like voice filled the chamber, "A monkeigh that knows the tongue of the Aeldari? Quite a rare but commendable sight. Perhaps your species has evolved during my slumber?"

"Your language was not difficult to learn…though humanity has vastly regressed along with your own species. When were you last operational?" he asked it.

The Angel Exterminatus didn't reply for several seconds as it moved its head to look at him somewhat closer, "A golden man? I see…so some of you did survive the machine war? That would explain your intellect."

"Golden man? Are you referring to the Men of Gold?" Perturabo asked.

The construct responded immediately, "Yes. You bear some of their genetic makeup from what I can sense. Though it is different than I remember. Tell me monkeigh…what year is it on your terran calendar?"

"It is M42," Perturabo answered without going into detail.

"Then this construct has not been active for 15 thousand of your Terran years. I see we no longer reside upon Belial IV. I take it that means you freed me from my prison?" the Angel Exterminatus asked.

"I freed you from that crone world…I lifted you out of the tainted dirt. You were buried beneath the Temple-Palace of Asuryan. It took me centuries to disable the traps and bindings keeping you there. It seems quite telling that the Eldar went through so much trouble to lock you away for all eternity. Even their greatest prison could not keep me out though. You owe your freedom to me," he explained.

"For what purpose did you free me, monkeigh? You don't even know why I was there." It responded darkly.

"I know you're the Angel Exterminatus…the greatest titan ever built. The greatest weapon ever created by the Eldar Empire. A machine without equal…am I correct?" he asked rhetorically.

"You think I'm a machine? I'm not like the sinister thinking machines your kind created. I am more than that…I am a wraith construct. Though it seems that you're aware of that since you used black crystals to awaken me. That implies you have a respectable understanding of Aeldari technology. Though it leaves me to wonder…do you even know who I am beneath this shell, monkeigh?" it asked.

The primarch shook his head, "No I don't. I was under the impression you were some type of machine. You're implying you have a soul then? It doesn't matter. What's important is that I need your help…and I'm willing to trade for it."

"Normally I would find your arrogance and petulance insulting…but I am grateful to be free once again. However, I have no intention of helping a monkeigh. I am the guardian of the Aeldari Empire. Our aspirations do not align, and I doubt you have noble goals." It stated coldly.

"Your empire has fallen…all that remains are decaying craftworlds and hedonists in Commorragh. Every Eldar soul that remains is slowly being consumed by Slaanesh…the abomination your species birthed. As far as I'm concerned, there isn't much left for you to preserve." Perturabo stated factually.

"I can maintain awareness without my true power source, but I cannot function without it. Most of mine was separated from me long ago. Without it, I cannot help you…nor would I wish to regardless. It is clear to me that you are touched by the Great Enemy. I also sense that we are still within the warp rift born of Slaanesh. What makes you worthy of my support?" the construct responded.

"I do not serve those…things. If I had my way, I would destroy them along with the entire Eye of Terror itself. Do not presume to think that I am a pawn of Chaos. I despise it," Perturabo replied strongly.

"I sense a psychic emanation within you, monkeigh. You surround yourself with machines, but you clearly have a psionic mind. Your soul is brighter than even an Aeldari's. The great enemy likely watches you closely. Despite what you may think, you are not as free as you believe yourself to be. I cannot trust one such as you," the construct responded cryptically.

Perturabo scoffed, "The gazes of Slaanesh, Tzeentch, Khorne, and Nurgle do not pierce this fortress. I have seen to that personally. Nor do they affect my mind or my ambitions. I am nothing like the ravenous fools that pray to sentient warp energy. I have greater ambitions…ones that don't even involve warfare or conquering in the grand scheme. Unfortunately, I must cleanse this galaxy to achieve these dreams. So long as the Imperium of Man and Chaos exist…this galaxy will forever be gridlocked in stagnant decay. I wish to destroy them both. Your species is hostile to me, but I have no interest in warring with them. I wish to free and save this galaxy…and to restore progress and pursue life's true meaning."

"The Imperium? I have never heard of such a regime. Before my imprisonment, the Terran Federation was the monkeigh regime that ruled two thirds of the galaxy. I am not surprised to see they collapsed after the machine war. They were reckless children who toyed with powers beyond their understanding. Their ultimate sin…the Men of Iron was their undoing. Do you hail from this Imperium originally?" it asked.

The primarch nodded, "Yes, but I renounced my allegiance to it long ago. If you considered the Terran Federation primitive and distasteful then the Imperium would invoke feelings of hatred and disgust. It was humanity's attempt to reconquer the galaxy after the Fall of your Empire and the collapse of our species during the Dark Age of Technology. It has existed for nearly eleven thousand years now…and it is a joke of an empire. I would see it destroyed so something better can be rebuilt."

"So you aspire to enlist my aid in your grandiose ambitions to destroy this twisted regime and to defeat the great enemy? Such a thing is not possible for one such as you. Slaanesh ate the Eldar Gods. What makes you think you can succeed where far more powerful beings failed?" the Angel Exterminatus asked skeptically.

The Lord of Iron smirked, "Not all of your gods are dead…including you. The legends say you're some god. While I don't believe in such things, I do know you have comparable power to whatever they were."

The angel exterminatus responded bluntly, "I am of the warp…I was forged in it, and I wield it with unrivaled power. In a figurative sense I am a god…but in reality I am simply a creation of the ancients. Your perspective is not wrong. I did not expect that type of wisdom from a monkeigh."

"Are you a Psychic wraith titan?" Perturabo asked.

"That is somewhat accurate…but I am the guardian of the Aeldari Empire and I failed to defeat Slaanesh," the angel exterminatus responded.

"You've battled Slaanesh? How…weren't you imprisoned this entire time?" Perturabo asked with fascination.

"The Angel Exterminatus was my vessel within the materium. It was created to destroy the C'tan and the Necrontyr. It allowed for me move freely outside of the warp and was a necessity due to the warp nullification abilities they possessed. This construct was once unleashed upon your species as well. Fearing my power within the materium, this vessel was locked away long ago, and its heart was divided in two. My original power source was a conduit to the warp which anchored my soul to this construct. With half of it locked away in this construct, I only had half of my power in the warp when Slaanesh was born. During our battle the conduit's link was shattered…leaving half of my soul trapped within this construct and the other half within the other heart piece hidden somewhere in Aeldari space." It elaborated.

"Is this heart some type of massive soul stone?" the primarch asked,

"You are correct…a spirit stone strong enough to anchor the soul of a god," it responded cryptically.

"So you can't function with half of your power?" Perturabo groaned in annoyance?

"No…and that is by design. Though it is fortunate enough that my predicament was my salvation from the fate of the other gods. Slaanesh would be far more powerful if she ate my soul. Stronger than even Khorne. Right before my defeat, I used my psychic powers to protect the Aeldari craftworlders…the Asuryani. Now I remain trapped in this construct." The Angel Exterminatus said distantly.

Perturabo raised a hand to his chin as he began to pace, "I have studied Eldar for millennia now in the hopes of understanding what you are. I know of all their gods…Isha, Kurnous, Cegorach, Khaine, Lileath, Gea, Hoec, Morai-Hegg, Vaul, and Asuryan. Which one of those gods are you exactly? Or are you another god? I read many references to someone named Eldanesh when studying the Temple of Asuryan. Given the nature of your unique construction, I'd wager you're perhaps Eldanesh or the smith god Vaul."

The construct was silent for a moment before answering, "A good guess, but I am not Vaul or Eldanesh. Vaul did build the Angel Exterminatus however. He designed it in a way that required a mortal copilot. This was to limit my power so that I would not have full autonomy over this wraith in the materium. In the twilight years, they grew to fear me just as they feared Khaine. They did not approve of my objection to their hedonistic depravity. Eldanesh was one of several who copiloted the Angel Exterminatus long ago."

"Which god are you then?" Perturabo asked seriously.

"The answer is right before you, human…you found me at the Temple of Asuryan. I am the Phoenix King." The Angel Exterminatus answered.

The primarch seemed to understand this reference as he spoke up in disbelief, "Phoenix King? Are you saying you're actually Asuryan…the leader of the Eldar pantheon?!"

"I doubt there are any alive who still remember…but yes I am," the Angel Exterminatus followed up.

Perturabo glared intensely at the construct's head, "If I found the other half of your heart…would you be willing to help me?"

"Restoring me doesn't mean I am bound to your bidding. I doubt you have the ability to pilot the Angel Exterminatus either. You would also have to link your mind to mine. I would not allow your taint within me." Asuryan stated dismissively.

"There must be some way to convince you that I am not your enemy. What would you want in exchange for helping me?" the primarch asked.

"You have nothing to offer me primitive. Even fully restored, I could not challenge the Chaos Gods. All it would do is empower Slaanesh if she managed to eat me. Plus, a monkeigh lacks the ability to pilot this construct. Your aspirations are pointless," Asuryan dismissed him.

The Lord of Iron did his best to hold back his bitter anger as he responded tactically, "What if I told you that Isha resides within the Garden of Nurgle? Forever imprisoned by the Lord of Decay? Tortured endlessly by his new plagues. I could help you free her. We could fight against the Chaos Gods together. Perhaps even free your kin from Slaanesh? I assure you that I CAN pilot this construct!"

"So some of the others were spared Slaanesh's hunger? Who else?" Asuryan asked.

Perturabo stared at the titan intensely, "Cegorach…the Laughing God resides within the Black Library. Those are the only two I know of. Khaine exists in fragments that the craftworld eldar call upon in daemonic avatars to fight for them. From what I understand, Khorne tried to claim his soul from Slaanesh and their resulting battle shattered Khaine. Listen…I am not delusional enough to think I can command you once I restore you to your full power. All I ask for in exchange is your help. I swear I won't take up arms against the Eldar if you assist me. Give me the opportunity to prove myself."

"If you speak truly, then I do not oppose your ambitions. I doubt you'll succeed, but if you can find the other half of my heart and restore it to me then I will grant you the chance to try the link. If you fail, it'll simply kill you." Asuryan added.

"If you help me, Asuryan…and I will gladly help you as well. I just need some idea of where the other half of your heart is. Do you have any leads for me?" he asked with anticipation.

"First you must prove you're opposed to the Great Enemy. You must be tested. I know just the way for you to do so. Go to the Black Library…find Cegorach. Tell him you seek the Heart of Asuryan. He will test your sincerity and ask many things. Tell him: 'The Phoenix seeks its ember' and that you are the 'flamebearer.' That should grant you reprieve from his wrath. If he deems your…sincerity worthy, then he will not kill you and help you find the heart. I assume Cegorach likely knows where the heart is," Asuryan instructed.

Perturabo nodded before turning to leave the chamber, "I will depart as soon as I fix that webway generator remote I found."

"I doubt you'll succeed, but I will honour my word if you do. I will not leave Isha to her fate." Asuryan said eerily.

The Webway, Present

Ahzek Ahriman, stared blankly to the side after ending his psychic communication with Abaddon's sorcerers. His distracted attention caused a great deal of confusion to several of his followers.

One of his fellow sorcerers spoke to him after a few seconds of silence, "What are you looking at, Lord Ahriman?"

"Brothers…I sense a Raven nearby. The one they spoke of. The one who reanimated Ferrus Manus," Ahriman answered.

The other sorcerers didn't evoke any serious reactions, but another voiced his opinion, "The Blood Raven? He was watching us? I didn't sense anything."

"Well I did…" Ahriman stated with blunt assurance as he turned to walk away. The other sorcerers and their large escort of rubric marines followed automatically.

"Are we going to intercept him? Do you intend to appease Abaddon's request?" another asked.

The infamous sorcerer chuckled lightly, "He is already coming this way. I sensed his location mere moments ago and I briefly looked into his mind. He and Ferrus Manus are trying to escape the webway and are being pursued by the dark eldar. The paths they seek are closed off to them. They have no choice but to come down this one. We will see our brother soon enough."

"What then? I am confident in our power, but he does have a primarch with him. Do we intend to stop them?" one of Ahriman's followers asked.

Ahriman spoke dramatically as he turned to face them, "We will alter their trajectory. Start sealing off the webway gates brothers. Make sure they take the one to the Black Library. They will greatly aid in distracting its guardians for us to enter. Go now!"

About a minute later, the various sorcerers dissipated to pursue their assignments. Ahriman remained by himself but kept a sizeable host of rubrics with him. The sorcerer stared at one of his cursed brothers for a long moment of silence. The fresh memory of the Ynnari witch reversing the rubric only to kill them was eating away at his conscience.

Ahriman's introspection was very short lived as he sensed a powerful presence approaching through a nearby webway gate. It was curious since that particular gate had been sealed. He had received no visions or clues about this potential happening and immediately assumed it must have been harlequins or some other Eldar attempting to assassinate him. It was incredibly rare for someone to catch him off guard...which implied this arrival was someone powerful and intelligent.

The sorcerer readied his staff and psychically alerted the Rubric marines to raise their weapons in preparation. Ahriman himself began to prepare a spell as he twisted arcane fabrications of warp power around him. The arcane stream of magic orbited him passively as they awaited the presence to pass through the newly opening webway gate.

The loud and brutal stomping footsteps that followed were a clear sign that it was not an Eldar, but rather someone in power armour. For a split second, Ahriman felt a sense of dread as the psychic aura reminded him of the Emperor's. Out of the gate marched only one individual. He was massive, adorned in terminator armour, and had two quad-mounted turrets strapped on each of his armoured gauntlets. Two additional assault cannon turrets and an Eldar D cannon was grafted onto the power pack of his back, and he carried a gigantic power hammer with one hand. The other hand had a webway generator remote in it. The black and gold stripes and silver colour clearly indicated he was an Iron Warrior. His eyes were gold, and several cables and cybernetic inserts were plugged into cables on the side of his head. Short black hair had grown over some of them as well. This however did not hide the fact that two of the cables were part of a built in psychic hood. The rest were simply attached to the cataphratii terminator armour.

Ahriman recognized this man and spoke slowly in disbelief, "Perturabo?! What are you doing here?"

The Lord of Iron walked over towards Ahriman and his rubrics and glanced down at them intensely, "I was looking for you, Ahzek Ahriman."

The sight of the webway portal shutting off behind Perturabo was surprising as it indicated the primarch was truly alone in the webway for some reason. Ahriman being the observant and cunning sorcerer that he was felt it was worth mentioning immediately, "You came alone?"

"Yes," the traitor primarch responded with an emotionless tone as he put the webway remote away.

"You wish to keep it a secret…and you sought me out? How did you even find me?" Ahriman asked.

Perturabo pointed at the psychic hood attached to the inside of his cataphractii terminator armour, "I modified The Logos to amplify my developing psychic powers. My psychic potential has only grown during my long years in the warp. It was necessary to master it so that I could not be taken advantage of by warp abominations. While I don't share your enthusiasm for the arcane sciences, it is a necessary tool to safeguard my mind and to further elevate my supremacy within this galaxy. I've studied the warp a great deal in my years of exile within the Eye of Terror. I condemn sorcery, religion, and whatever it is that the rest of you aspire for…but I can't deny its necessity to my goals. I used it to find you. Unlike the others, however, have no intention of becoming corrupted. I have learned how to shield myself from the ruinous powers the same way the Emperor did."

"That explains your aura. Quite fascinating. You're the last primarch I would expect to pursue the arcane. I too am not corrupted, Perturabo…and I wholly understand your logic. Now what do you require of me?" Ahriman responded.

The primarch scoffed at him, "You ARE corrupted…a pawn of Tzeentch. Forever chasing your ambitions and being denied for his amusement. Thinking yourself a master of your own destiny…and yet enthralled to his own endless, pointless machinations. We are NOTHING alike, Ahriman. You don't think big enough like I do. Your legion has been in his clutches since the days the Flesh Change first afflicted you. All you and Magnus have done is make deals with them. That is not the way to master the warp. These beings are shaped by our wills…NOT the other way around. We have to control and contain them…not worship them!"

The sorcerer let out a low pitched growl of disapproval, "By your logic, all of the traitors are thralls to the Chaos Gods…even you."

"They are not gods. They are eldritch warp abominations with sentience shaped by eons of strife and suffering. Their existence is quantifiable, and they did not create this universe. I cringe in disgust watching the rest of you zealously dismiss logic and reason because you're too weak, prideful, and unintelligent to understand the true nature of the universe. If a god does exist, then it's the one that created relativity…a being of a higher dimension. Not some sentient spirit that gorges itself on the emotions of living beings," Perturabo spat.

"What makes you think I am a pawn of Tzeentch? I do not follow his commands. I only seek to restore my brothers to their original bodies. I do not serve Abaddon and I do not blindly attack loyalists for no reason. My ambitions are my own…as is my will!" Ahriman hissed.

Perturabo scoffed at him as he took a few steps closer, "Then take off your helmet and show me your face, Ahriman. Show me that you are not tainted by the warp."

"I am NOT!" the sorcerer countered angrily.

"Prove it then…sorcerer. You seek to save your brothers…but you fail to realize that you can't even save yourself. Humor me and I will free you from this pointless game you're trapped in," he replied curtly.

Ahriman jabbed his staff on the ground next to himself and slowly reached up to take off his helmet. After unhooking several cables and taking it off, he tossed the helmet which telekinetically levitated next to him.

Perturabo emoted no reaction as Ahriman pointed at his face, "Do you see now, primarch?! I am still a man!"

The Lord of Iron didn't speak for a few seconds as Ahriman awaited his acknowledgement. Finally, Perturabo simply summoned a psychic mirror in front of the sorcerer. Ahriman almost seemed horrified when he looked into it.

He looked like himself at first, but a kaleidoscopic fluctuation of colours twisted and contorted across his skin. Mutations would manifest and immediately disappear a second later as his face seemed to be constantly shifting between a twisted void of warp corruption and his original self.

Ahriman furiously shattered the mirror Perturabo conjured and let out a bellowing roar, "It's a lie! You're trying to manipulate me! It won't be that easy, primarch!"

Perturabo conjured many additional mirrors and spoke up sternly, "I can fix it…but you have to acknowledge that you're corrupted."

"No! I am NOT corrupted!" Ahriman denied the possibility.

Golden light began to radiate off of Perturabo now much to the sorcerer's confusion. Perturabo then pulled out a strange blue stone. It began to grow in size and levitate between the two as it proceeded to suck out warp energy from the sorcerer.

Believing this was Perturabo attempting to kill him, Ahriman finally retaliated with his full psychic power as he twisted their surroundings into a warped reality. Arcane streams violently assailed Perturabo as Ahriman attempted to cast him through a now open hole in the webway.

To his shock, Perturabo resisted his tremendous psychic power with his own. The Lord of Iron spoke again, "You're useless to me in your current state. I will fix you, and then you will help me retrieve what I seek! Follow me and I will help you undo the rubric."

"You're lying! You don't have the power to undo it! I've been working for millennia to undo it! You will not kill me, Perturabo!" Ahriman bellowed as his psychic might began to violently push the primarch back. He made many attempts to psychically assail Perturabo's mind, but all of them failed.

For some reason however, Ahriman could still see his powers draining into the unusual crystal floating between them. It was nullifying his psychic aura for some reason. The longer it continued, the more his psychic power began to dwindle.

The Thousand Sons sorcerer attempted to destroy the crystal but failed as Perturabo negated his spells with a remarkably powerful psychic ward. Before long the sorcerer could feel his powers dwindling and flickering away as his soul continued to get sucked into the crystal.

Ahriman could feel all of his power was exhausted as the crystal continued to drain him. Their warped reality quickly returned to normal, minus the now open hole in the warp spilling into their portion of the webway. Daemons and other warp abominations swarmed everywhere, but they failed to break through Perturabo's ward. Ahriman was still conscious, but he felt extremely weak and incoherent.

The rubric marines hadn't moved once during this entire ordeal and stared blankly as Ahriman collapsed to his knees. Perturabo then grabbed the now head sized crystal and tossed it to the ground. Lifting his hammer overhead he brought it down with all his might completely shattering it into a million pieces. Upon doing so, a colossal explosion of warp energy erupted all across their section of the webway, ripping even more holes inside and slaughtering countless daemons surrounding them. Ahriman and his nearby rubrics would have been swallowed inside of it, had Perturabo not shielded them with his own psychic power.

From the shattered crystal, the swirling energies radiated many colours and they tried to go back into Ahriman. Many were warded back and filtered away however as the blues, pinks, and purples were expelled into the warp. Only the gold and red portions were let through Perturabo's ward as they went back into Ahriman.

The sorcerer felt a strange feeling as his powers returned somewhat. He felt an unusual clarity and relief as well much to his confusion.

Once it the dissipation was over, the Lord of Iron then picked up the kneeling Ahriman along with his helmet and walked towards the webway gate he just came from. Thanks to his ward, he was able to open it without the warp energies spilling in behind him. Upon passing through along with the mindlessly following rubric marines, he left a bomb behind to destroy this particular gate and prevent reentry.

A few seconds later, they all reemerged out of another webway gate into a stable area. Perturabo proceeded to drop Ahriman and looked down at him awaiting the sorcerer's recovery.

Ahriman panted heavily as he managed to stand up, "What did you just do?!"

"I removed Tzeentch's taint from your soul. You are yourself again, Ahriman," Perturabo stated bluntly.

The sorcerer looked confused, "I wasn't corrupted…you sucked my soul into that stone and shattered it! My soul is now shattered!"

"Your soul is back to its original state. I purified it. See for yourself," the Lord of Iron stated as he conjured up another mirror for Ahriman to gaze upon his reflection. To his sheer astonishment he looked completely normal again.

"H-how? What was that crystal? How did you do that?" Ahriman seemed to finally accept the reality of the situation.

The Lord of Iron shook his head, "It's an ancient Eldar technique that I learned from studying their civilization's crone worlds. That was a special spirit stone called a Purification Stone…it's the only one I had left, so be grateful I used it on someone as fickle as you. I drew your soul into it and shattered it to filter out the warp filth. I then shielded you and allowed your original soul to reenter your body without the taint. You will be a bit weaker, but you're free of Tzeentch for now. He won't be able to spy on us or sense you for a while. Whether or not you remain untainted is up to you."

Ahriman blinked several times in disbelief as Perturabo then tossed his horned cowl to him. He put it back on immediately, but the sorcerer couldn't think of anything to say. The fact that Perturabo of all primarchs could and would do something like this was baffling.

"Why?" was all he managed to say in the long following silence.

"Do you honestly think I would trust you until I ensured Tzeentch no longer had your soul ensnared? Now that I know he can't spy on you near me, I will tell you what I'm here for. I seek the Black Library as I mentioned before…and I know you are the one who has had the most success in locating it. We're going to get inside." The primarch stated assuredly.

"What do you seek in the Black Library exactly? None of you primarchs ever seemed interested in finding it. Are you hoping to find that STC from Aeon?" Ahriman asked confused.

"I doubt the Eldar would let me have that. No, I seek something else. I seek the Heart of Asuryan," he answered bluntly.

Ahriman tilted his head in confusion, "What is that? You seek the heart of an Eldar God? Why?"

"That is not something you need to know. Now, take me to the Black Library!" Perturabo demanded impatiently.

Ahriman nodded as began to channel a spell, "I can teleport us a bit closer, but they have powerful guardians protecting it. Namely, their laughing god Cegorach. We will have to deal with him to enter. I've already attempted to force myself within, but he is not so easily defeated."

"I have no intention of defeating him. I intend to trade for what I want. Neither one of us is corrupted now…so they should be somewhat receptive to my offer. I'm not going there to plunder it. I just want the heart," Perturabo stated calmly as Ahriman finished his spell and teleported them.