Chapter 927 - 926: Akurduana, Only You Can Persuade Our Father

Within the craftworld Ulthwé's crystal dome, Farseer Eldrad Ulthran sat cross-legged, Nareth's warning echoing in his mind.

As the greatest of the Aeldari Farseers, he would not normally have heeded the prophetic advice of a short-lived race's general. But Nareth's series of actions forced him to take the warning seriously.

The Sak'trada Deeps, that all-consuming fire.

He had led his Legion against the largest Hrud settlement, without suffering massive casualties.

He had encountered the ancient Daemon Prince Be'lakor, and not only survived, but had inflicted a significant setback upon the Dark Master.

He had shattered the ancient Khrave, delivering a devastating blow to the galaxy's predators, while his Legion remained strong.

And, it was possible, he commanded a Khrave Progenitor.

Ulthran preferred to believe it was a coincidence, a convergence of factors he couldn't understand. He couldn't imagine how Nareth could possibly enslave a Master.

His mind raced through countless possibilities, and he finally decided to heed the mysterious and powerful Nareth's advice: not to meet Fulgrim in person.

He began to extend his consciousness, then stopped.

"If Nareth's warning indicates the fall of the threads of fate..." He rose, walking to a shimmering crystal tree, and sat again.

He extended his spirituality, his consciousness swiftly locking onto a purple-gold warship within Ulthwé's domain, the Perdus Anomaly.

The Pride of the Emperor was more artistic than other Imperial vessels, but could never match the grace of an Aeldari ship.

Ulthran did not linger on the hull but seeped into the ship itself.

He met no resistance from Blanks, nor from mystic barriers. His consciousness reached Fulgrim.

Fulgrim's purple-gold armor gleamed, its gold trim shining like the sun.

The armor was engraved with intricate spirals. An emerald cloak hung from his shoulders.

Ulthran condensed his consciousness into his own form, speaking in standard Imperial High Gothic: "Fulgrim."

Fulgrim stared at the psychic projection before him: a figure with long, angular features, black hair swept over pointed ears, tied at the nape of his neck.

A beige cloak over a flowing black tunic, a jewel-encrusted gold belt at his waist.

"Aeldari." He suppressed the urge to draw the Blade of the Laer. Even with a xenos, he must maintain perfect composure. "You know me. But I do not know you."

"I am Eldrad Ulthran, a Farseer of the craftworld Ulthwé."

"Very well. Eldrad Ulthran of Ulthwé. You may consider me a representative of the Emperor of Mankind." Fulgrim's silver hair billowed as he spoke with pride.

"Now, I want to know: has your craftworld been following us since my fleet arrived?"

"Yes. The worlds you have passed through are within our territory." Ulthran admitted.

"When we first became aware you were crossing our territory, we considered attacking. But when we saw you were merely passing through, not attempting to claim worlds that are not yours, we came."

"These maiden worlds have been waiting for my people. Taking them from us is a mistake."

Fulgrim's eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"

"It is merely a small warning. But we do not seek to be your enemies. You have shown a restraint I did not expect from your kind." Ulthran said.

"You are led by a warrior called the Warmaster. Your goal is to conquer the galaxy for your race."

"I am not a historian, but I know your race once claimed to rule the entire galaxy?" Fulgrim asked with a smile.

"We did rule the galaxy. But due to our arrogance and complacency, we lost our dominion," Ulthran replied.

"Then, it is only fair," Fulgrim laughed.

"Fate dictates that one race falls, another rises to take its place."

"The Emperor of Mankind will lead us to rule the stars, as your race once did."

"Fate?" Ulthran chuckled.

"That is the other purpose of my visit. I have glimpsed the cursed fate of your race."

"Oh?" Fulgrim crossed his arms.

"Tell me."

"The power of Chaos whispers half-truths to your Warmaster, Horus Lupercal. They stoke his ambition with distorted visions of the future."

"He will lead his armies against your Emperor. He will plunge the galaxy into millennia of war and suffering."

"Be silent!" Fulgrim roared.

The Emperor's most trusted, first-found son could not possibly betray their father.

The Emperor would not have given Horus the title of Warmaster if He were not certain of his loyalty.

"Lies, lies-" a whisper echoed in his mind.

"This xenos mongrel wants to turn you against your brothers!"

Fulgrim drew the Blade of the Laer. The purple gem on its hilt shimmered with allure.

"He is poisoning you with words! Kill him!"

"Fulgrim, I did not come to anger you. While there is still time, you must warn your Emperor. It will save countless lives!"

A silver arc flashed, aimed at Ulthran.

A surge of purple energy, trailing afterimages, slashed at his psychic projection.

A beam of light from a crystal tree enveloped Ulthran's projection.

Boom!

A psychic flash erupted in the cabin. The ornate chandelier shattered.

"You have been corrupted!" Ulthran was hurled back. He withdrew his consciousness to his body.

'So this is why Nareth warned me not to meet him in person.'

The crystal tree shattered. Ulthran watched the falling sand silently.

"If I had not heeded Nareth's advice and met Fulgrim in person, I would not have escaped."

"How could I not have foreseen this? Fulgrim has not merely acquired a blade possessed by the Great Enemy's servant; he is already on the dark path."

Ulthran could sense Fulgrim was still fighting, but the outcome was already determined. Slaanesh's grasping claws had him in their grip.

Aboard the Pride of the Emperor, Fulgrim watched the fleeing Aeldari with frustration, his chest heaving.

A bloodlust stirred within him.

"You know what to do," a tempting whisper urged.

"Destroy their worlds."

"They will not stand by while their territory is destroyed. When they come to stop you, you will have these xenos warlocks in your grasp."

"Yes. Destroy their worlds." Fulgrim murmured.

Three hours later, Lord Commander Akurduana of the Emperor's Children walked the broad avenue of the Pride of the Emperor. Captain Solomon Demeter of the 2nd Company followed close behind.

In truth, though Akurduana was one of the eleven Lord Commanders, he had never been responsible for tactical command.

Eidolon and Vespasian had been granted the title of Lord Commander while he was still only Captain of the 2nd Company. But every Emperor's Child knew their father held Akurduana in the highest regard.

He had publicly declared: "A warrior like Akurduana, who has faced countless challenges in the Palatine Blades, must not be burdened with high command. It would taint his perfection."

In truth, the First Palatine Blade had never commanded troops. His tactical ability was only half of Solomon Demeter's. Even when he was Captain of the 2nd Company, Demeter had been the true tactical commander. Yet no one in the Legion thought Akurduana unworthy of his high station.

The peerless swordsman was the Emperor's Children's most perfect embodiment.

The white marble walls and towering onyx pillars lining the avenue were engraved with golden inscriptions of their deeds.

Akurduana's exploits occupied three entire pillars.

The dense golden text recorded his solo forays into enemy lines, his decapitation strikes against their mightiest warriors and leaders.

His deeds in guarding the Emperor, earning the Legion the name Emperor's Children and the Emperor's personal emblem, the Palatine Aquila, surpassed even the statues of the Legion's heroes.

Every neophyte heard of Akurduana's deeds during training.

After over two centuries of accumulated glory, Fulgrim could no longer suppress the murmurs among the Emperor's Children.

He could no longer protect his beloved son from the burdens of command; he had been forced to promote Akurduana to Lord Commander.

"Akurduana."

Akurduana looked up, then smiled, walking to meet him.

"Vespasian."

Vespasian's polished armor reflected the light. His steps were hurried.

"Fabius and his Apothecaries are injecting more and more compounds into our warriors. Some have even undergone surgery."

"The Emperor's Children are becoming increasingly dependent on the new combat stimulants. They use them even in peacetime. They are becoming decadent and arrogant."

"I have also noticed the problem. Father and Eidolon support Fabius's new research." Akurduana thought of the Laer temple.

The silver blade Fulgrim had drawn was beautiful, but the "Weapons Master" had instinctively sensed a supernatural evil within it.

"Akurduana, only you can persuade our father."

"Please. Stop the Legion's perfection from decaying."

....

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