Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor Chapter 709 - 708: The Emperor's Psychic Projection

928.M30.

Northwestern Galaxy.

Dozens of stone spheres, orbiting a flickering star on staggered paths, rotated.

Howling winds, appearing from nowhere in the airless void, crackled with lightning.

The Sea of Souls churned, closing like a giant maw.

From the tempest in the Sea of Souls, a ship wreathed in blazing golden light erged.

Dozens of stone spheres suddenly accelerated, spinning rapidly around the star.

The star's flickering stabilized, then grew brighter and brighter.

CRASH!

With several blazing fireballs streaking like teors across the void, the star ignited.

Blazing golden light flared.

The brilliant light ca not from the star, but from a tall, lean, handso man.

He wore a sturdy peasant's tunic, a solid brown beard on his chin. His shoulders were broad, his strong arms covered in old scars.

He stared at the red giant. His golden eyes grew brighter. The wild power hidden within them projected outward.

He stepped, walking up golden stairs towards the red giant.

Silver-white rings suddenly appeared, contracting from different directions.

His sturdy, peasant-clad form suddenly beca a strong stag.

The stag lowered its head, looking at its golden-red fur.

The next instant, its beautiful, pure fur dulled.

The golden light in its eyes dimd. Its majestic antlers cracked and broke.

Its eyes flickered. It felt itself return to countless years ago, wounded and fleeing in Morro.

It looked around. It did not see Alivia.

"You are not them. You are but a dead serpent." The stag spoke. Its words were similar to High Gothic, but with slight differences in word endings.

"Revelation." A hissing voice sounded from nowhere.

The stag, searching its mory, found the source.

Greek. Specifically, the dialect of the Asia Minor city of Gordium.

"You and your sons are cheaters."

With an angry hiss, it was instantly transported to a magnificent temple.

Before it appeared a chariot, bound by a tangled, knotted Gordian knot.

The stag examined itself. It had sohow returned to human form.

He wore magnificent bronze armor. A crimson cape billowed.

A silver-white serpent slowly materialized in the temple. Its eyes were cold and crimson.

"Do you rember the prophecy?"

"Whoever unties the knot will rule the world."

"Do you rember what you did?"

The man, transford from the stag, drew a short sword from his belt and slashed the knot.

The next instant, he was back in his contemplative pose.

The serpent's scales were covered in dense patterns and symbols, forming interconnected spinning wheels.

The man stared, cut the knot, stared, cut the knot...

He repeated the cycle, again and again.

After a thousand repetitions, golden light suddenly blazed in his eyes.

"Alexander is my true body. He is not here."

"I am Revelation. As you just said."

The mont he spoke, the serpent hissed. The spinning wheels ignited with golden flas.

The flas blazed. The serpent rapidly burned to ash.

As golden light scattered, the temple, the chariot, the Gordian knot, all dissolved like burst bubbles.

The magnificent armor and crimson cape vanished. The man returned to his true form.

The tall, lean, handso peasant, Revelation, with his brown beard.

"Alexander. The Emperor. Revelation. All the sa."

"You always make the sa choice. Cheating, taking shortcuts." The hiss was cold, laced with an indescribable mockery.

"Alexander cut the Gordian knot and ruled all the known world, but..."

"The cheating solution shows your rule will not last."

Tens of thousands of light-years away, in the heart of Terra's vast cavern, the Emperor looked up at the towering platform before him.

A Gordian network of cables and conduits reflected in his eyes.

As a shadow fell across his eyes, his psychic projection, Revelation, simultaneously blazed with golden light.

Golden light, like two laser beams, shot into the red giant.

His scarred arms reached out, clasping together.

He bent, as if teaching his people to farm, millennia ago. He pulled.

In the Sea of Souls, silver-white light, like sticky pythons, coiled around the golden beam.

Silver-white lightning flashed in the northwestern galaxy, clashing with the golden light.

CRASH, CRASH, CRASH!

Blue and purple lightning, born from the clash, coiled together like pythons.

The colonists on the twelve planets of the Serpent's Cradle looked up in terror, watching the lightning tear across the blue sky.

On the surface of Sondheim VIII, near the Maw and Damaris, the lingering specters, as if suddenly facing daylight, grew ethereal and rapidly vanished.

Shadows of Order in black armor watched the blazing light tear across the sky, anxiously.

Revelation's eyes blazed. He illuminated the red giant and the dozens of stone spheres like a golden sun.

As he pulled, the golden-wreathed beam was dragged out.

He spun his arms. The beam, following his movent, shot from the red giant's sphere.

Dozens of stone spheres of various sizes scattered, forming a net in the beam's path.

His broad shoulders shook. His thick arms bulged.

His eyes focused on a single point. He hurled the beam towards it.

The blazing beam shot between the stone spheres, becoming a streak of light, vanishing into the void.

Revelation was drenched in viscous sweat. His weathered, peasant face gained new, deep wrinkles.

.....

Vostroya, Shadowhold.

Nareth woke suddenly on his ebony bed. He sat up, looking vigilantly ahead.

An intangible, blazing light leaped.

The light grew brighter, outlining a massive spear.

Its shaft was as thick as a communications array antenna. Its gleaming, golden, leaf-shaped blade was as long as a sword.

He stared at the psychic relic floating in mid-air.

The Dionysian Spear.

'Indeed, after I stayed at Vostroya, the Golden Man could locate .'

'He retrieved the spear.'

'Ouroboros, in its reboot, with ho-field advantage, still couldn't match the Golden Man.'

He smiled.

'The Golden Man is quite capable. I got it for free in the end.'

He rose and walked to the window. With a thought, the blinds clicked.

He looked at the night sky. "Night's Rest."

Not the dawn of the spear's return.

Nine standard hours later, Nareth's psychic projection crossed the void, arriving at Terra's Golden Palace.

....

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

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