Kayzen Hart, that bumbling Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, had foolishly attempted to use the Pale Spear to snare the traitors of the Alpha Legion. In the original tiline, his failure had done nothing but catalyze the birth of the Ghost Legion.
Now, with Ogon commanding the loyalty of nearly half the Alpha Legion across the galaxy, the situation had shifted. Combined with the localized paralysis of Imperial forces due to the massive Warp storm and the sudden, overwhelming Skaven invasion, Hart's operation had transitioned from a re joke into a masterpiece of cosmic irony.
Ogon did not even deign to look at the Inquisitor. As a Lernaean Terminator of the Alpha Legion strode past, he simply crushed Hart's head beneath a ceramite boot. In that instant, the Imperial authority on Shyzen utterly collapsed.
However, when the Skaven attempted to claim the human survivors as re livestock and slaves, Ogon intervened.
"The Alpha does not squander resources," Ogon stated coldly. Though he had pledged fealty to the Great Horned Rat, he remained chillingly rational. He decreed that both the humans and the local rat-n would be integrated into the Alpha Legion's hierarchy, to be molded into a new generation of sleeper agents and thralls.
Furthermore, the human population would serve as a fresh pool of aspirants for the Legion's gene-seed.
The local Skaven were not ruled by Clan Verminus or any of the Great Clans, but by a minor faction calling itself Clan Rotclaw. When Ogon personally strangled the Clan Rotclaw Warlord, the remaining vermin were instantly cowed by his martial prowess and the terrifying, musky aura of a Verminlord.
"Henceforth, you are all part of the Alpha. My sons will instruct you in the virtues of an Alpha operative," Ogon's voice bood across the planet via the Governor's Palace vox-casters.
Alpha Legion mortal operatives moved with practiced efficiency to seize the world's assets. As masters of subterfuge, they were peerless at discerning genuine submission from treacherous intent. They used lies as weapons; thus, they were expertly attuned to the scent of falsehood in others.
The Legion showed no rcy to those with hidden agendas, human or Skaven alike. Using thunderous force, they pacified the entire planet in short order.
With the world secured, Ogon finally reclaid the Pale Spear, lost to him for ten millennia. He turned his gaze toward the broader Charadon Sector.
"Father... the Legion finally returns to its forr glory!" Drazus wept openly as he watched Ogon raise the Pale Spear once more. He had never truly dared to hope he would see this day.
"Forr glory? No." Ogon twirled the spear with lethal grace and shook his head. "This is rely the beginning." His deep, seemingly unremarkable eyes looked up toward the sky, which was now choked with the brilliant, chaotic auroras of the Warp.
He could guess the truth: this galactic upheaval was the work of the God he served, a grand gambit to flush his missing brother out of hiding.
…
The reorganization and purging of Shyzen continued, but Ogon was already looking ahead. Beyond his personal weapon, the Legion's two Gloriana-class battleships, the Alpha and the Beta, had been lost since the Scouring.
According to Drazus, both flagships had successfully retreated, but a ten-thousand-year odyssey had erased them from the Legion's charts. For now, Ogon sought only the Beta. As for the battleship representing his brother... he would let Alpharius deal with that himself, should he ever return to the fold of a True God.
Ogon's intuition was correct. This galaxy-spanning Vermintide served many purposes: it tested the strength of all races through despair, but primarily, it was Lucius's thod for locating the vanished Primarch, Alpharius.
As a Primarch of secrets, Alpharius's trail was so faint that even the newly ascended Great Horned Rat could not find him directly. Tzeentch might have known, but in this universe, seeking answers from the Changer of Ways was the pinnacle of folly.
Thus, the rats spread across the stars beca Lucius's eyes and ears. In the wake of the Skaven's destructive frenzy, any ripple caused by Alpharius's presence would be caught in the Great Horned Rat's web.
"Heh... that old bastard on the Throne only gave half a Primarch. No matter, I'll find the rest myself. And if you won't help, let's see if your Imperium can withstand the weight of my Under-Empire."
From his throne, Lucius watched the rats scurry across the Milky Way. Utilizing Gnawholes and the Realm of Ruin, the Skaven moved through the Warp storm largely unaffected.
In contrast, other races were paralyzed. Even the other Chaos factions under Abaddon found Warp travel impossible without the specific protection of a Chaos God. Currently, only the Aeldari, the largest Ork Waaaghs!, and the Legions of the favored (Death Guard, World Eaters, Thousand Sons) could traverse the void. Even the Emperor's Children were largely stranded; Slaanesh remained quite displeased over the "Lucius affair."
"Oho! Trust the Orks to be the rats' old rivals. They're holding their own. And the Tau... doing quite well, actually."
Lucius noted that, aside from the Aeldari, the races least affected by the Vermintide were the Orks and the Tau Empire.
The Orks, naturally, were delighted. When they discovered an endless supply of rats erging to fight them, they simply laughed and engaged in a massive, sector-wide Waaagh! Without the support of Great Clans like Skryre, Moulder, or Pestilens, the unorganized rats were being hamred back into the dirt by the Greenskins.
The Tau Empire, anwhile, suppressed the plague with remarkable efficiency. Unlike the Imperium's rotting infrastructure, the Tau managed their Hives and resource hubs with scientific precision. They didn't just dig a hole and forget about it.
Furthermore, adhering to the Tau'va, the Tau actually sent diplomats to negotiate with the Skaven.
Faced with such "generous" fools, the bolder Skaven clans simply ate the emissaries. The craftier ones feigned interest in the Greater Good, accepted the Tau's resource shipnts, and then imdiately stabbed them in the back.
As for the Tau's attempts at "outreach" to the Skaven slaves, hoping to incite a democratic revolt, the plan failed utterly. The Skaven possessed no concept of honor or credit; to them, a promise was rely a lie one hadn't stopped telling yet.
After losing significant materiel, diplomats, and over a dozen worlds, the Ethereals finally concluded that these rat-aliens were fundantally untrustworthy. They were reclassified alongside Orks and Tyranids: threats to be exterminated on sight.
Lucius laughed at the spectacle. Skaven short-sightedness and treachery had reached a new zenith; even the Drukhari might struggle to keep up with the rate of Skaven backstabbing.
Yet, despite the Tau's localized successes, the Imperium remained the greatest victim. Because of their abysmal baseline governance, the Skaven felt right at ho in the Hive worlds. Even on Holy Terra, Guilliman's personal intervention could only barely stabilize the Throneworld. Elsewhere, the Imperium was a charnel house.
But amidst the chaos, Lucius had finally caught a scent. A trace of his target had appeared.
——————
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