







The "Truth" About the Emperor

The empty room shook with the impact of a ragged figure's body into a sturdy and ancient rockrete wall. A burly man wrapped in a thick leather coat and bearing the mark of the Inquisition easily hefted and tossed the smaller person. Dust from centuries past were rocked from their resting place and fell over the man-handled heretic. He gave out a series of coughs before pleading, "Please! Please hear me! I know the truth!"

The squirming man tugged helplessly at the Inquisitor's arms, but could not get even the slightest bit of relief from the hold. The Inquisitor drew his face closer to the heretic; his long angled face becoming feintly clearer to the helpless man as once hidden scars and blemishes revealed themselves.

"What 'truth' could you possibly know that the Inquisition does not have access to?"

"I know the truth about the Emporer!" The words barely escaped the heretics lips before his body was flung some twenty feet into yet another sturdy wall. His body smacked into it with a sickening thud before falling to the ground in a broken heap. The Inquisitor walked towards the battered figure on the ground; a highly noticable look of disgust etched across his face.

"For a heretic to speak His name to an Inquisitor of the Ordos Hereticus is to welcome an execution!" He reached for his holster, "By the authority of the Holy Adepts of Terra and the Inquisition of the immortal Emporer of...""Hereticus Preservitae, Inquisitor Lexington." the heretic rasped, interrupting the Inquisitor's sentence. Lexington halted his words and his hand remained poised over his holster. For a brief moment, Inquisitor Lexington experienced surprise for the first time in many long years.

"How do you know of Ordos Hereticus methods and of my name? Neither parcel of knowledge was granted to you!"

"I know many things, Inquisitor," the man replied, dragging himself to his feet, "and I request that you perform the Hereticus Preservitae." "I do not intend to interrogate you, heretic. What makes you think that I would soil my vox recorder with your vile speakings?"

Lexington's tone dropped slightly from aggressive to curious. This shift gave the heretic a bit more confidence. "Because you are an Inquisitor. Curiosity is in your nature as well as your duties. Besides, what harm could the frail words of a battered heretic do to a devoted Inquisitor of the Ordos Hereticus?"

Lexington stared at the man; his gaze piercing deep into the ragged figure's soul and contemplating its worth. He slowly reached for his Bolt Pistol, but instead grabbed for one of many belt pouches hanging from his waist. His hand searched briefly and found the desired rectangular box. He spoke the necessary information for catalouging a heretic interrogation and finally placed the vox on a small piece of debris next to him.

"Tell me what you know."

"Do you know of the Horus Heresy, Inquisitor Lexington?"

"Of course I know of the most famous moment of Imperial history. The

Primarch, Horus, was swayed by the Dark Gods and turned Space Marines against the Immortal Emporer of Mankind. Do not insult me, heretic!"

"I mean no insult, Inquisitor Lexington. I only wish to elaborate on this event. You see, Horus was the first Primarch discovered by the Emporer and so was his closest 'son'. In truth, Horus was more akin to a clone than an offspring" The last statement clearly disgusted Lexington, but he held histongue. "After more and more of the other Primarchs were discovered, the Emporer's attention was split amongst His 'sons' and His empire. Horus felt jealousy and contempt for his 'father' and so was easily swayed by the Ruinous Powers. With their gifts under his control, it was easy to bring other Primarchs to his cause; even if they didn't want to."

"'Even if they didn't want to'? What are you implying?" Lexington's curiosity was too much to remain silent.

"Not all of the Primarchs, nor their legions, wanted to rebel. But with the influences of the Dark Gods instilled in him and the vast experience he had among them, it was easy to manipulate them by means of a spell."

"A spell?! Nonsense! Those legions were impure, defected! They chose to rebel!"

"Yes, but not entirely under their own will. Daemonic possession only furthered the control of some of the more pious warriors amongst the legions. And with this great army at his beck and call, Horus began that long civil war known as the Horus Heresy."

"You have yet to speak anything of value." Lexington reminded. The heretic shook off the statement and continued.

"When things looked the most grim, Horus inexplicably dropped the shields on his battle barge. The Emporer took this opportunity and made a grand assault with the assistance of the Primarchs Rogal Dorn and Sanguinius.

Sanguinius was the first to reach Horus and confronted him. Horus attempted to turn the winged Primarch to his side, but Sanguinius was too stubborn and head strong. He listened not to Horus's words and attacked. The battle was fierce, but Horus ultimately slew Sanguinius and tossed his lifeless body to the ground. It was at this point that the Emporer entered the bridge and engaged Horus in the most spectacular duel this existance has ever known."

"Yes. Yes. The Emporer won the duel, slaying Horus. He payed the ultimate price; however, and was carried off to the Golden Throne by Rogal Dorn himself. That story is legendary. Your worth thus far, heretic, is...."

Lexington was interrupted as the heretic held up his hand for silence.

"No."

"No?"

"Yes. No. That ending is rumor at best."

"What are you getting at?"

"It is true that one was slain and one was near demise. Horus's dark abilities were still quite strong, even near death. Before he fell upon the deck, he set about implanting a single fog into the minds of all in the room. Although Rogal Dorn was a Primarch, his prowess was on the battlefield and not of daemonic spell warding. When he knelt down to collect his Emporer, he grabbed the wrong corpse."

"What are you getting at, heretic?" Lexington looked tense and extremely enraged at the predicted answer.

"What I'm saying, Inquisitor Lexington of the Ordos Hereticus, is that the corpse sitting atop the Golden Throne is not the Emporer. It is and always was Horus."

Faster than any eye could blink, Lexington drew his Bolt Pistol with it's barrel centimeters away from the heretic's face. The heretic, half expecting this, froze in place and attempted not to make any sudden movements. Lexington breathed heavily and yelled at the man, "HOW DARE YOU! You DARE to insult the Emporer in front of me?! I should kill you where you stand!"

"You can try, Inquisitor, but it will take more than blessed Bolts to kill me. I am cursed with immortality by the Dark Gods themselves. I exist only to tell the truth; and I have."

"How could you possibly know what had transpired aboard that barge?!

How could you come to this despicable conclusion?!"

The heretic reached extremely slowly into his robes. Lexington threatened to shoot, but the heretic ignored the warning and pulled out a small canister. He offered it to the Inquisitor, but noticed he was in no mood to accept it. He instead placed it upon the ground.

"What is this?"

"Proof."

Lexington slowly knelt down to collect the canister and gently screwed the top off of it. A feint glow emmanated from the interior as Lexington withdrew the contents. It was a single, long feather. It's edges were speckled a dark crimson and the mark of the Imperial eagle displayed proudly across it's face. The Inquisitor stared at it in shock, "This cannot be!"

"But it is, Inquisitor. A feather from the fallen body of Sanguinius, Primarch of the Blood Angels."

"How did you...."

"I told you, I was there. I was servant to the Sons of Horus when the battles occurred. I was there to observe and live. I speak truly, Inquisitor, The Emporer is....."

The heretic had no time to finish before a rune encrusted Bolt round exited Lexington's sidearm and entered the head of the heretic. The Inquisitor spat upon the fallen corpse and carefully sealed the precious artifact back into its container. Lexington knelt down to retrieve his vox as well, when the ragged figure of the heretic slowly rose to his feet.

Startled, Lexington instinctivley drew his weapon and aimed it at the heretic once more. A hail of exploded shrapnel rained down from the heretic's face as his wound began to heal.

"Golden Throne! What heresy is this?"

"I told you, Inquisitor, I cannot die. I cannot be terminated so easily as I've tried many times before."

"I swear by the Immortal Emporer of Mankind I shall see you dead!"

"Weren't you listening, it's not...." Lexington's loose finger upon the trigger silenced the heretic. Realizing the predicted results of this next execution attempt, He put down his weapon.

"But it doesn't make sense. If Horus is seated upon the Golden Throne, then why has not the Imperium fallen to Chaos?"

"Because Horus is selfish and desires nothing more than power. Do you think he would share it with anyone, even the Dark Gods?"

"How could no one know of this? Surely the traitor legions would realize that their leader is behind the Imperium."

"Oh but they do, Inquisitor. After his return to Terra, his influence upon the traitor legions was lifted. After they realized what had ocurred, it was too late. Their own battle-brothers chased them off into the Eye of Terror without caring for a single plea of salvation by the marked 'traitors'. There they were fed upon by daemons and the Ruinous Powers until the last vestiges of their sanity was gone. The Gods fed them the truth about Horus and the last remnants of their sanity remembers only that the Imperium worships a False Emporer. Horus planned this power all along. He didn't want to crush the Emporer and assume the throne since he would no doubt share it with Chaos. That is why he dropped the shields on his battle barge. He staged his death and had his own enemies carry him to his seat of power where they would protect him until the end of time."

"But what of the Adeptus Custodes? They must know it is Horus."

"You are correct, Inquisitor. They discovered it was Horus, but much too late. If they had revealed his ascension, the Imperium would tear itself apart before it could rebuild. The safety of the Imperium was more important of a consideration to think about. Also, Horus's psychic energy made possible the Astronomicon. However, they vowed that no one else would discover this and so protected the area against any who would intrude."

Lexington had a wave of shock roll over him and was about to speak when the heretic interrupted him, "Do you know of what a Daemon feeds from?

"Yes. They feed from souls. Souls of psykers." Lexington sounded weary.

"Just like the hundreds of souls sacrificed to the 'Emporer' every day just to sustain him."

Lexington dropped to his knees and stared out into the distance. The recent knowledge sweeping across his brain and unlocking questions. Questions that he never thought he would ask himself as an Inquisitor of The Imperium of Man. The heretic was relishing the Inquisitor's state of being and knelt down beside him.

"Face it, Lexington, your Imperium is a farse. The one you worship is the same creature you've been raised to hate. You seek out to eliminate the Emporer's enemies when His greatest rival is idolized by His own servants.

What do you think of that, Inquisitor?"

The heretic had no time to revel in the questioning as a large silvered stake pierced his chest and impaled his heart. Lexington released his grip and kicked the ragged defiler to the floor. The heretic had a look of extreme agony on his face as the area surrounding the wound incinerated and spreaded outward to consume his entire anatomy to ash. As the dust and ash blew across the floor, Inquisitor Lexington collected his vox. He stared at it for what seemed to be an eternity until he smashed it into a wall, destroying it utterly. He then collected the heretic's canister containing its sacred cargo and left. He entered a loyal Inquisitor of the Ordos Hereticus and exited an unsure man filled with confusion and doubt about his god-like Emporer; the very tools of a heretic to the Imperium of Man.

The ashes swirled and merged at the center of the room until the full-bodied figure of the heretic became whole once more. He patted his chest to check the wound, only to find a completely healthy (albeit poorly groomed) chest. A small silhouetted vapor cloud appeared in the air in front of him.

"Yes, my master?"

"You have failed yet again, slave! Your soul shall be consumed if you cannot maintain a simple riot among the loyalists!"

"But the message of truth was spread to yet another Inquisitor, my lord.

That makes a good number of their ranks aware of exactly whom they serve."

"That traitor, Horus! He shall regret his actions once the Dark Gods claim him again. Until then, slave, you have a cult to reform!

"Yes, my master."