Title: The Iron Tide: Perturabo, Olympia and the Decimation
In the grim darkness of the Warhammer 40,000 universe, Primarch Perturabo, in alliance with the Mechanicum, masterminded a weapon that could warp the very fabric of time. Designed to counteract the insidious xenos, this weapon served both as a shield and a sword for the mighty Space Marines. But even this extraordinary invention couldn’t completely annihilate the enigmatic temper of FX. Instead, it resulted in the catastrophic fracturing of a planet, the capital city transformed into a floating island, lost to the emptiness of space.
The Iron Warriors’ fleet, caught in the violent spasm of a spatial rift, was scattered across a radius of one astronomical unit. Some ships lost all motion, while others burst apart in silent, dreadful explosions. Amidst this chaotic scene, Primarch Perturabo stood, watching his sons perish, consumed by the thought that this bloody war was a mere indulgence of the Emperor’s vanity.
The Iron Warriors’ defeat stoked Perturabo’s rage. He vented his frustration by humiliating the commanders he deemed responsible, and it was in these moments that his subordinates learned to stay out of his line of sight. Yet, some were given the thankless task of messengers, bearing ill tidings to the Primarch. It was a task that often ended in death, as an unfortunate officer of the Imperial Army discovered when he brought news of his native Olympia’s betrayal to Perturabo. The message was barely complete before the Primarch tore him apart with his bare hands.
The pride of Perturabo, the Iron Lord, was deeply rooted in his harsh native world of Olympia. Its defiance was a personal dishonor, prompting him to redirect his fleet towards his home world, even at the cost of pursuing the xenos. It is believed that the fallen Horus intentionally stoked the fires of rebellion on Olympia to disillusion Perturabo and sway him to his side.
The Olympians justified their rebellion with objective reasons. The grandeur of life under the Imperium was an unfulfilled promise. Instead, the planet was engulfed in worsening conditions. Minor quarrels, which once claimed the lives of dozens, now resulted in the loss of thousands annually. The Space Marines, once their children, were seen as expendable material for the Imperium’s wars, not the heroes that propaganda painted them to be.
Despite the grievances of the Olympians, Perturabo’s response was a brutal one. The ingratitude of his home world blinded him. He saw their care for their planet as a selfish act, disregarding his invaluable contribution to humanity’s protection against the monstrous xenos. To the Primarch, the people of Olympia failed to appreciate his sacrifices, his battles fought in the darkness of space. If they had seen even a fraction of the nightmare worlds he’d cleansed, they would have willingly offered their children to him.
But such understanding was beyond the mortals, and Perturabo ordered the planet to be punished. His decree? Decimation. Every tenth inhabitant must be put to death, and should the Iron Warriors not see the funeral pyres upon their approach, half the population would be exterminated. The leaders of the uprising were beheaded, their heads sent back as a grim warning. Olympia was set ablaze, its once impregnable towers and walls, built by Perturabo himself, crumbled under his wrath.
As the fires of Olympia raged, the Space Marines, hardened by decades of unglorious battles and constant humiliations, followed the brutal example of their Primarch. After all, they were the Iron Warriors, and in the merciless universe of Warhammer 40,000, iron breaks before it bends.
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