Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor

Just as Nareth arrived at the rendezvous point, he sensed an ominously cold aura emanating from a massive Ogryn city, by Ogryn standards, practically a metropolis.

He withdrew his gaze and turned to the gold-armored Horus.

"So, you noticed it too."

"There's something strange about the life signals in that city," Horus replied.

"Over a hundred thousand, different from other Ogryns. I sent in a reconnaissance squad."

Horus stepped forward and motioned for Tarik Torgaddon, Second Company Captain of the Luna Wolves, to deliver the report.

Nareth remembered Torgaddon and Abaddon as the only two surviving members of the unofficial "Council of Mournival" when it eventually disbanded, the other two having been replaced after dying multiple times.

Though known for his humor, Torgaddon addressed the Primarch with solemnity.

"My lord, I previously dispatched a recon squad to infiltrate the Ogryn city. What they brought back is… noteworthy."

He tapped into the system on his left arm, projecting the footage from a scout's helmet camera before the two Primarchs.

Nareth's black pupils narrowed sharply.

The projected footage showed two grotesque Ogryns.

One was completely swarmed by corpse-eating beetles, each about 40 cm long.

But the beetles weren't feeding on corpses, they were devouring the Ogryn's living flesh.

The second Ogryn held a massive maul in his right arm. With his left hand, he plucked a beetle from his own body and shoved it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it with fervor.

Nareth thought for a moment, then spoke, drawing from what he knew of Ogryn behavior.

"Ogryns are simple creatures, single-minded to a fault. Once they swear loyalty, they never betray. But they're also highly susceptible to corruption. This tribe seems to have entered a symbiotic relationship with the worms, living together, even feeding on each other."

As he spoke, a memory flashed across Nareth's mind: Plague Ogryns.

Corrupted Death Guard had once embedded Nurgle's plagues into Ogryns, and the dimwitted brutes had giggled blissfully, reveling in the "blessings" of the Plaguefather.

After a moment's thought, Horus nodded in agreement with Nareth's assessment. He turned to Torgaddon.

"Tell your warriors, watch for behavioral shifts in those big oafs. I don't want to see my Wolves dying to mutated Ogryns."

Torgaddon gave a slight smirk, he caught the dry humor hidden in the Primarch's concern. With respectful formality, he replied:

"The Luna Wolves will not disappoint you Father."

Horus let out a hearty laugh, then looked to Nareth.

"Brother, we attack from the east and west, what do you say?"

Nareth's eyes flickered. He understood immediately, this was a test.

His "teacher," Horus, was observing and evaluating him.

"As you wish."

During the discussion, the increasingly cold and detached Adams remained silent, following Nareth toward the Fourth Company.

Nareth spoke to them in a calm but commanding tone.

"You've already overcome the thirst for blood once in our last battle. This time, I expect even more."

Raising his left arm and sweeping it forward, he injected resolve into his warriors:

"I believe in you. You are the Shadows of Order!"

"Advance!"

Then, Nareth led his sons toward the eastern attack point.

Shortly after, the Primarch again handed command over to Adams, but this time, he didn't fight alone.

He selected a squad to accompany him.

That honor went to the Iceblade Squad, who had first lost control in the last battle, but also were the first to regain it.

This marked the beginning of Nareth's vision: establishing a unique Honor Guard for the 11th Legion.

He aimed to eventually transform the Shadows of Order into extraordinary beings, but only those who passed his internal tests of loyalty and ideology.

Unlike other Primarchs, Nareth had no intention of simply gathering the strongest warriors into a permanent elite squad.

Not a "Death Squad", but a true Honor Guard.

His plan involved a nomination system, where each Company Captain could recommend promising subordinates.

Those would be evaluated personally, absorbing Nareth's philosophy and returning to influence their original units.

Although this approach might not produce a fixed, elite corps like other legions, the inclusion of beyonder abilities would more than compensate.

And Nareth knew: this method would keep his sons motivated.

Through Warp Insight and Spirit Vision, he saw Iceblade Squad's morale glowing with a bright blue aura of calm and reflection.

With rising anticipation, he activated his energy field generator, and his power gauntlet flickered with golden light.

BOOM!

Two Ogryn-high stone walls collapsed.

The Primarch took the lead into the city, with Fourth Company warriors charging in behind, centered around a Malcador Heavy Tank.

The Ogryns turned slowly, staring at the incoming Space Marines.

The corpse-eater on their bodies began writhing.

With unnaturally stiff movements, the Ogryns lurched toward Fourth Company.

The Malcador Tank's machine-spirit roared with fury, repulsed by the stench of corruption.

Its cannon barrel rose and fired a blinding arc of energy, the explosive shriek of the shell split the air.

Dozens of Ogryns, and the beetles on them, were obliterated by the blast.

The Shadow Order opened fire with bolters.

Adams quickly noticed: even Ogryns with limbs blown off and their entrails spilling out weren't falling.

With his Corpse Collector vision, he could see fragments of dark spirits, uncovering the secrets of these creatures.

The mutated Ogryns were being driven forward by the beetles embedded in them.

Adams focused his vision. The weakness was clear:

Each Ogryn had a central beetle on the back of its head, controlling the others and the host.

In the squad channel, he spoke coldly and clearly:

"Head. Weak point."

Dozens of bolts flew, Ogryn skulls exploded, bodies fell.

At the same time, Nareth himself cleaved through two mutated Ogryns with a single sweeping strike.

Watching his sons closely, the Primarch was pleased.

The Fourth Company was using the Ogryns' slow speed to maneuver tactically, targeting weak points with ranged fire.

Even when bloodlust flared, squad sergeants quickly stepped in.

Two or three Shadow Order would intercept and restrain the berserker, while others provided cover.

And those who lost control could still be pulled back by a battle-brother whispering:

"Calm yourself, don't let Father down."

"Yes," Nareth thought. "These are the sons I want. The savage habits of reapers are being purged, and order is beginning to form."

But just as he reveled in this progress, a roar shook the heart of the city.

Nareth turned to the sound.

Charging toward him was a mutated Ogryn nearly as tall as Horus.

Unlike the sluggish ones, this one was faster than a normal Ogryn.

Horus noticed, too, and frowned slightly.

"Fool. Thinks bigger means stronger."

He strode forward, power sword ablaze with blue fire, cutting down Ogryns in his path as he advanced toward Nareth.

His brother might just need his help.

...

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

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