I'll reiterate my claim immediately, lest I be accused of clickbait: Erebus is one of the best characters in the whole Warhammer 40k canon. With those words I have sealed my fate. I can already hear you in my head, baying for my blood. I hear the hammering of keys, the tippy-tap of righteous thumbs on touch screens, the grinding of throne-loyal teeth. But before you have me shot for the heretic I doubtless am, a point of order. I didn't say one of the best people, or a character you should like or admire. I said one of the best characters. So just holster those bolt pistols a minute, and let me elaborate.
As a newcomer to the Horus Heresy books - the epic, 65-volume series that is to Warhammer 40,000 as the Silmarillion is to Lord of the Rings - one of the first major characters you'll meet is Erebus, First Chaplain of the Word Bearers Space Marine legion.
Partly, that's because he features prominently in the first three books, and he's the Big Bad in Aaron Dembski-Bowden's superb The First Heretic (technically book 14, but in practice one of the first you should read). Erebus both wields, and is, the poison dagger that corrupts Horus Lupercal from beloved warmaster to arch-traitor. From book one to book 65, his villainous animus is ever present, even when his horrible, smirking, tattooed face isn't currently pouring honeyed lies onto the page.
Mostly, though, you'll know him early on because the moment you spend more than 30 seconds in any Warhammer-themed online space, you'll encounter the immortal phrase: Fuck Erebus. Hating this guy is possibly the most pervasive in-group meme in the entire fandom. Oh, we'll squabble for eternity about which of the Warhammer 40k factions are best, or which of the primarchs most needs therapy (it's Curze btw). But the one thing everyone can rally around is that Erebus can absolutely fuck right off into the sea.
And that's 100% correct. He really should. In his personal characteristics, actions, and motives, and in his structural impact on 40k's overall storyline, Erebus is an irredeemably despicable bastard. By shepherding his primarch Lorgar towards the ruinous powers, and carefully manipulating events to ensure Horus launched a chaos rebellion against the Emperor, he knowingly caused trillions of people to die in an (apparently tragically avoidable) war. We are supposed to despise this man, and we do, vehemently. But there's more to him than just an ugly, punchable face.
In the simplest reading of the Heresy - the in-universe story the Imperium tells its citizens, which also seems to govern many IRL fans' emotional engagement with GW's narrative - the Emperor of Man is a messianic visionary, stabbed in the back by evil conspirators. His grand plan for humanity to rule the galaxy forever was basically justified, and it would have worked were it not for the cowardly, corrupting trickery of his enemies. Viewed this way, Big E is the noble victim, Horus is the tragic, sympathetic anti-hero, the chaos gods the true antagonist, and Erebus the willing (trans)human instrument that makes their apocalyptic scheme possible.
At this point, you're back at your keyboard again, screaming that I'm deliberately oversimplifying the case here. Don't worry. I know you're smarter than that. You know Emps' plan was morally reprehensible and doomed to failure anyway. You know he was living off borrowed time and power from the gods. You know he actually predicted and counted on a horrific civil war, and all Erebus and Lorgar did was trigger it sooner than he wanted. You've read the Siege of Terra, and seen Erebus come to terms with the fact he isn't the all-powerful, puppeteering Hand of Destiny both he, and readers, were led to believe. You know it's all messier and more complex than that.
The thing is, though, that's all plot detail - it's not the story. Stories adopt their own natural structure, and anoint their players with archetypal roles according to subtle laws that mutate with the collective instincts of the audience - whether or not those roles are, so to speak, 'historically accurate'. This creates conflict and jeopardy within and between characters. It's what elevates stories from dry, historical screeds into something we personally care about, and invest our feelings into. Whatever those factual plot details, in the story, Erebus is the Hand of Destiny, the Astartes' original sin; the pivotal agent of corruption; the true arch-traitor. Fuck Erebus, confirmed.
So, he's the pantomime villain after all. Why does that make him one of the best characters in the whole canon? Well, it's just my personal opinion - but I like him more than other gigantic assholes in the 40k rogue's gallery because he's consistent and honest. Not with other characters, obviously - all he does is lie, cheat, plot, and manipulate them. But, ironically, he's more honest with himself and with us, the audience, than almost any other character.
Unlike his gene daddy Lorgar (a pathetic, self-deluding, religion-hopping ideology addict) or Perturabo (a galaxy-brained incel princeling who thinks his MENSA membership makes him uniquely qualified to run the universe) Erebus never claims to be doing 'the right thing'. We don't see him try to convince himself or anyone else that his crimes are justified for the good of the Imperium, humanity, or anyone else. He's got no pretensions of virtue, heroism, or progress.
No, Erebus' rationale is grotesque, but refreshingly simple:
- I believe in Chaos (in all senses of the phrase).
- I understand myself and my desires, and they are to Be Really Powerful, Forever.
- I understand the alternative philosophies on offer, and reject them - partly because they're faulty, but mostly because I think I've got a better chance of Being Really Powerful Forever by doing the Chaos thing.
- The only way I'll get what I want is to trick the entire galaxy like the devious dickhead I am.
- So let's give that a bash.
There's something perversely satisfying, for me, in the matter-of-factness of Erebus' nefarious character. In a setting where almost everyone of consequence, on both sides, uses higher purposes, noble ideals, or grim-faced necessity to justify their dark deeds, he simply doesn't bother. For someone so narcissistic and power-hungry, he's oddly unsentimental about his own basic mission. He's neither a zealot nor a coward. He's just run the numbers (fairly correctly) and worked out that:
- Chaos can't be killed, ever.
- His best chance of getting his personal win condition (live forever and be really powerful) is to join it and help it win.
I think this gets to the heart of why Erebus is so hated: because he's fundamentally, utterly selfish. He allows himself no illusions that there's a nobility or 'greater good' to any of his plans, and he doesn't subscribe to any legitimizing creed (though he pretends to, when it suits him). He does evil for no better reason than because it benefits him personally. Unlike the hundreds of conflicted, tragically misunderstood antagonists bombing around Games Workshop's grimdark galaxy, we have literally no reason whatsoever to sympathize with Erebus. That's why I think he's so valuable.
Because not every baddie can be a tortured, sympathetic soul. In a good story, you can't just explain away every grand crime and atrocity with high-minded whataboutery and sympathy for the devil. In real life, that's compassionate justice, but in a fiction like this, it just leaves us with no clear 'zero' mark on our morality meter.
Stories need true, unadulterated villains to anchor them; to give us a benchmark by which to measure others. That's what Erebus is for 40k: an unreformed, undiluted, unsentimental, unremittingly atrocious piece of shit. And the lore would be so much worse without him.
Alright, I'm done. Give me the Emperor's Peace, I'll be ready and waiting in the free Wargamer Discord community to receive your explosive fusillades right in my stupid, heretical face. Gods know I probably deserve it.