A Shrouded Dawn (Warhammer/Stellaris)

"The gear's purpose will not change with a name. I have no interest in giving an item an identity. Furthermore, I do not care what you do or say, it will learn to serve its place and nothing more." You frowned as your mother responded to your father's simple question with a sense of growing bafflement.

You knew on a fundamental level that every Human had an Identity, a name even if their name was not the same across all of the Imperium. But to so coldly state that such was meaningless struck you as foolish in a way. For nothing that existed for untold eons could be so truly flawed, yet, you also knew that your mother had not yet even looked upon you. Nor did she seem to care of you as a person, but only as a component to a larger project.

"Very well. I will name my son, Anatol, you can use the name or not. But to the rest of the station that will be his name. I have not forgotten your haste in declaring what you would do if he was found to be under your expectations.

I might not know much of how to raise a child, but I know by the God Emperor that I would do a better job than you ever could." Orsion spoke again, his voice firm to your ears, if wavering when it came to admitting his lack of knowledge in the field of parenting.

"Accepted. When the gear has grown to a viable size, I will return to take over its forging and to make sure it doesn't stray beyond its rightful purpose. The gear currently appears defective to me, as the genetic patch that was stated to increase psychic potential has seemingly failed to yield any results. I doubt that the part will be able to overcome this inherent flaw in its construction, in order to fulfill its duty.

If it becomes unable to fulfill its purpose within the next five years I will remove it from its broken life and try again until I have a gear that will fit its proper place, or this station falls into the world below." You turned your head slightly towards her as she spoke of the genetic patch, meant to trigger the release of psychic potential, which would imply to you that it would be accepted to show your abilities to your parents at least.

Letting your mind flow outward, you grab ahold of the loose items in the room and drag them into the air against the current of gravity. A thousand items drifting through the air softly cloaked in purple light, as purple light enshrined your form upon the warm metal of the table.

Yet, even with your mind unconstrained you could not reach their souls, It felt as if something was missing with the lack of others to connect mind to mind with, you knew them, you could feel them, but you could not speak with them. Dragging through the echoes of impression and memory you had gained so early in life, you began to order the floating items into shapes that would form letters eventually.

Each letter was a slow process for you had to make do with thin pipes, glassware and other poorly constructed items for the forming of letters, but in the end you managed to form two words, that conveyed much more than their limited size would imply: 'Mother Father.'

It was all you could manage with the tools at hand and the lack of direct connection with their minds, but it stopped the forming argument in its tracks as both of them turned their focus upon you for the first time in your life.

"It appears I was mistaken, the tool has the proper shape and form, now it just needs to be refined. It is a positive sign that its mind is able to process at minimum, basic inference drawing from psychic divination at this point in its crafting.

Telekinesis of a low power and effect, but acceptable for an unrefined tool. Hopefully, implants and other methods will bring its abilities up to par with its purpose.

You have served your part fine, Orsion, but for now you have no further purpose in this room. Take your gear and leave me to my recuperation." Your mother spoke as she looked at your body from her position upon the bed, with her eyes glancing over to the floating word, but still bearing an expression of disappointment.

Drawing your focus from your mother was a clatter of metal as your father, slammed his forehead into the metal bulkhead of the room. "Agh, do you have no ties to Humanity? I sometimes wish to the God Emperor that you were never born. I have no idea how in His name, your family could have given birth to such a cold calculating mind.

Seriously, this display is more than above par for any but the absolute strongest of psykers that Humanity gives rise too. We are not like the xenos of the galaxy that spawn such beings routinely. A thousand pieces of metal, glass, ceramic and other materials, held in a telekinetic grip being shifted by an intelligence well over several years in advance of what he should be and you are still disappointed.

I swear that you are blinded by a desire for perfection that will never come. I have no idea why, you spend any time doing anything but just petting the machines in your quarters.

You bend the rules left and right, and you have no concept of just how far you bend them. By the God Emperor, you broke the most sacred rule of ours to not have families unless we had a chance to save our home. Yet, you have no desire to even care for your son, and are even now preparing to kill him if he fails to live up to your standards. Do you not notice how wrong that is?" You could tell that this was only going to trigger a massive argument and you frankly had no desire to spend another moment in this room and listening to both of them yelling at each other over irreconcilable differences of opinion.

With a slight mental effort, you levitated your body off of the metal tray and over towards your father, for even if he was a near heretic he was a good person at least for now. Perhaps in time you would have to consign him to the pyre to save his soul, but until then you could at least use him to escape your mother.

Your actions to your amusement, completely derailed both your mother's comeback and distracted your father near entirely to the point where he grabbed you and left the room. As the pair of you moved through the station, you let your eyes wander as much as possible, but the strain of focusing undeveloped muscles was slowly but surely taking its toll on your energy.

A child no matter how perfected, was not meant to be as active as you were and you knew this, but the sheer pain that was forming in your eyes and neck was legendary. With a sigh you let your eyes close and your neck drop into a cradle of telekinetic force, letting your father carry you to wherever he wished to take you.

You feel the gravity of the station shift between states rapidly implying that the station's internal gravity systems were currently failing, but even with the alternating forms of gravity your father was clearly skilled as he all but danced through the gravity gradients. Soon, a hiss of a door welcomed you and thereafter you found yourself being placed in a bed of sorts.

As your mortal body falls into slumber, you find yourself back in the astral plane. The endless expanse of the Shroud has awaited your return to its depths in full awareness. Your Demi-realm harkens to your will as towers of burnished gold arise from the shifting flows of energy, even as wraiths of heroes of myth and legend take up arms in your service, all watched over by a grand vision of the God Emperor cast in the Divine radiance that is His by right. You take your seat upon the throne of silver and purple marble that has arisen from the floor of your castle and let your mind wander the corridors of this infinite realm.

Yet, your travels are soon interrupted as four beings make their presence known to you. Even from the infinite distance that they have yet to cross their coming causes the very Shroud to swell and buckle as the last remnants of the Zroni move.

First to arrive of the Grand Four is the Whispers in the Void, taking upon the guise of a mortal wearing armor forged of secrets and plots. Your sight pierces the first layers of its illusions, and you catch sight of a faint smirk on its lower illusions. Even though as a proper imperial you know you should reject such beings, you know that even though you stand far above any mortal, these beings tower over you in turn.

Next to arrive is the Composer of Strands, flowing forth as a living ocean of biological data. Forms being formed and discarded a million times per moment, ever searching for an improved creation to call its own. You see that it has come with no guise hiding its truth from your sight and you see that it was forged from those Zroni that had delved deep into the biological mastery.

Third to arrive was the living serpent, the Instrument of Desire. It came in the form of a human woman, with a body of perfected form that would make any man break before her perfection. Yet, you dismissed it for it was but an illusion cloaking an empty shell, a being that gave more to have more. It was the perfect cycle, empires would grow fat upon its bounty and in their fatness they would find ever more artistic manners of expression, they would never find limits to hinder their creativity. It was the most convoluted of the four, it sought intelligent desires, you could see that pure decadence and hedonism gave it nothing but a sense of longing for something of richer flavor.

The last to arrive was the Eater of Worlds. A brutish figure of metal and fire, it came with no pretense, it was a fighter first and foremost. It could do nothing but fight for that was its core, formed from the echoes of the Zroni civil war, its form flickered between its standard and a being drenched in blood to your spectral sight. Even from this distance you felt that it was the worse of the four that were coming by far. It had no sense of mortal limits, it fed upon its own because it knew nothing but the hunger of war.

"Anatol, we have waited/prepared/unnoticed/come to meet/see/interact with you upon this day/night/week/year/deca, we offer/gift/present to you our/mine/us assistance/aid/help, for your/self coming/to be/future actions." The Whispers in the Void whispered in a million words that meant a thousand things all the same, only thanks to your grand soul did their words not crush your mind as you would a rat, but instead sense flowed forth.

"Answer/response/approval/negation to follow/come/return/enter after/past others present/offer/gift." You reply to the miasma of thought and secrets in its own fashion, for even in your home there is no need to needlessly anger such a being that could so easily wipe you clean. It nodded its facsimile of a head and stepped backwards to let the Composer of Strands to ooze forward.

"Life grows, death falls, cycle return. Hardened flesh, granted life." The Composer speaks in a harsh grating tone of thought, devoid of ambiguity, straight to the point of its proposal, there is nothing to decode here, it is infinitely patient and will wait without anger for the others to speak and your response to come. You nod to it regardless for what else could you do in this case.

The silver serpent of desire slithers forth to speak next, "Oh chosen one, of wonders to build yet, to walk the stars of the void in times of greatness yet to come. I see you stride as beacon to a million, what a mighty torch your bear into the endless darkness of your home. Arise the station of your ancestors to gleam the answer to your mother's desires. Let rise the banner of your empire to see glory done, oh Chosen One of a billion worlds yet unknown to your mind.

I offer my gifts as I always have, you know that which I speak of. Dance with me and together harmony will be achieved. Gold burnished and silver polished, metals purified in my might, crafted by your light, unified shall the Zenith be reached. Chosen One, your time is at hand, ascend to your throne of gold and marble, stride across the void of stars and bring forth your light to the endless masses.

The Zenith of all calls forth to be claimed, the fallen ones bar not your path, their Zenith has been reached and fallen. Yours yet climbs, Oh Chosen One, you are your yet noble and mighty, strive for victory and in my arms you shall find all that you seek." The Instrument of Desire cooed as it slithered around your throne before returning to its spot with the other three of its kin. With a shake of your head to clear the enticing visions of a galaxy under the heel of Man, with the God Emperor risen from the throne and sons of Man returned to the fold of light. You at His side as worlds arise in your footsteps, armies marching forth unstoppable, the xenos of the galaxy falling to the Imperium. But it was all a lie, and so you turned towards the final one to speak and waited.

With grinding metal the final Shroud God stepped forth, "I see nothing to do here, you are no warrior. You have no conviction to fight, you are nothing. I offer my boon only in the faint hope that you will eventually become something worthy of being called a soldier, but you won't spill enough blood to make me happy and if I am not happy I will come for your people." It thundered before returning to where it had waited for its turn.

As the final word was spoken it had come for you to make the choice and you could feel the weight of history upon your shoulders, for this was a fulcrum that would shape the ages to come.

[] I accept/take your offer/gift/assistance as mine/own (Increase Chosen One research cost reduction to 125 from 100, gain Whispers of the Void as a Perk dedicated to Research/Intrigue at tier 2. Become unbearably cryptic to everyone, anything you invent will be inherently 2x times harder to reverse engineer, you can't have mortal assistance for Stellaris Research)
[] Flesh Accepted, Life Hardened (Increase Wounds to double what you currently have, gain Regeneration at 1 wound per round, All Biology Technology count as 1 tier lower for research. Become unable to directly circumvent the truth, have to go out of your way to improve the physicality and mentality of people via genetic upgrades, have to research Biological technology every 4th tech.)
[] Gold shines brighter, the stars blaze ever onward, let us join in chorus. (All production technologies are reduced by 1 tier for research purposes, gain Instrument of Desire as a tier 2 perk relating to Government and Crafting actions. Become very Aeldari like with speech patterns, also have to spend a meaningful amount of time on Arts and Craft actions per year.)
[] To War and Battle I go (Reduce all bonuses to non Combat by 1/2, increase Combat bonuses by 2x, gain a Tier 8 Combat Perk chosen by the Eater of Worlds. All Technologies are scaled upward by 1 tier for research purposes, have to engage in large scale warfare once per decade.) Vote Weight: 0.5 (note that this affects all future bonuses as well, so a normal +20 becomes +10 if its not combat related)
[] I Refuse Your Offers (choose to turn aside the offers of the Shroud Gods. Gain: ????????)

Due to this vote being very critical to the future of the quest I am not opening voting immediately