- Location
- Missouri
You've left out the most important detail.
Did Tide include a chip-tune rendition of Korobeiniki as the game's background music?
The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food
- Thread starter Jackson Fox
- Start date
- Crossover Sci-Fi Horror
You've left out the most important detail.
Did Tide include a chip-tune rendition of Korobeiniki as the game's background music?
Damn you now I have the song in my mind, and it won't leave
- Location
- Missouri
It's been living rent-free in my head since Christmas Day, 1989 when I got a Gameboy with Tetris as a present. At least it's useful for drowning out other earworms.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
The Krork also inadvertently turned out to be a surprisingly effective 'fuck you' to the Necrons; Ork spores are pretty much the only living thing that stand a chance of surviving a Necron planetary purge, and the Ork ecosystem did an excellent job of reestablishing the biospheres of many Tomb Worlds in the millions of years the Necrons were asleep.
Forward Unto Dawn
Wait, it's actually the game from TTS (which is Yu-Gi-Yoh right?)?
It's either Yugioh or magic the gathering.
Which if it's the former, is probably the worst thing to show Ahsael, especially if he figures out what a planeswalker is.
Or maybe it's the best thing to show him. I don't know.
It's based off Yu-Gi-Oh but it's essentially an early example of Tide's version of the game. Similar rules, but the card numbers are very small (only a hundred total cards). As life goes on, the game will be expanded.
Small Steps or Trailblazer come to mind as a couple of short names. If we're going for something flowery... Day Breaks The Long Night or Herald of the New Dawn? It kinda depends on the vibes Tide would want to go for. And there are plenty of Halo ship names of course, but many would be unfitting, nonsensical stripped of context, or be a bit too... "religious", so to speak, for Tide's comfort.
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- Location
- ?????????
Oh god it's an eternal format. The ban list is gonna go crazy lol
Tide, dedicating 30% of his biomass solely to create a perfectly balanced card game.
Strunkriidiisk
THE LEGEND
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Too bad, having Ahsael learn about the sheer potential of a planeswalker would be hilarious.
I doubt that any son of Magnus or even Magnus himself could resist the temptation.
- Location
- Washington D.C.
I assume the thing she's drawing ar halo thing lord of the rings things star wars things and DUNE things
nice
I only know this song from a cultured mass effect vid called 'Lets play some Tetris motherfucker' imagine my surprise when I found out it was a theme from a video game
- Location
- Missouri
The theme from Tetris, in fact!
I recognize this might be becoming a theme, but this time the delay isn't because I didn't finish the chapter. Its because I don't like how it turned out, so I'm doing a little rewrite. Might be out today, might be tomorrow.
Chapter 72 - Something To Believe In
Day 82
The Culexus Assassin who had taken the name of Gratis as his own stepped into the kitchen of what had once been a lesser hive noble's home. Compared to something intended for serving a great number of guests, this kitchen was 'merely' one dedicated for serving a family. There were many such homes, most having been ransacked by the genestealers for resources. Many things that went into their construction, the supplies stored within them, could be turned into weapons, particularly chemical ones.
Not that it had helped them against that… thing.
Gratis prepared for himself a small meal. Normally, he'd have ration cubes, which would hold all the necessary nutrition in the correct quantities to remain in peak form. He'd prefer them as well, but the thing had taken them from him, along with his gear.
So, Gratis was forced to create substitutes. The kitchen was kept well-stocked by invisible servants, but whoever supplied the food was clearly not fond of the bare essentials. No cubes for him. Instead, he prepared a sandwich with grox meat, vegetables that he was all but certain had not been imported but somehow had been grown on Monstrum, and slices of the fruits that hung around. He had resisted eating the things for a time, but quickly realized that if the thing intended to poison or otherwise harm him, there were simpler and faster ways.
What the 'thing' exactly was… wasn't something he knew for sure. It called itself Tide and had introduced itself as such to Gratis and the others. Sadara, the Callidus he had been assigned to this mission with, and Morus, the Vindicare. Of the four, the only one he hadn't spoken with was the Eversor, not that Eversors were known for being overly conversational at the best of times.
Some of them, Gratis knew, were capable of having conversations. Others lacked that ability, driven into near-madness by their programming. The one they had been assigned was such a one and they had not seen them in the weeks since they had been captured. Perhaps they were dead, though Tide assured them they were quite safe. Gratis doubted that very much. Eversors were as much a danger to themselves as they were everyone else. Assuming the Eversor wasn't able to killing anything, they were liable to rip themself apart.
Once his sandwich was finished, Gratis made another two, of similar make, stacking them atop one another and putting them atop a stack of three plates. He carried them out into another room, where the blanks Cass and Brunt were waiting, seated on a couch next to a small table. The parents, or soon-to-be parents in any case, had slowly adapted to their new living environment.
The puppet that claimed to be Tide yet appeared to all the world as an ordinary man, walked in a moment after that, drawing surprised looks from the blanks, not including Gratis himself. Gratis was not used to people taking their eyes off of him when he was in a room. Rather than vanity, it was usually because one didn't take their eyes off the monster threatening to devour their soul. He felt a flicker of long deadened emotions and crushed it with his training.
He was still on a mission. He'd been forced to adapt to suit that changing mission, but there was no need for emotions.
Tide carried with him four glasses, a decanter with water in it, and a fourth plate, complete with a sandwich nearly identical to the ones Gratis himself carried for it. He balanced that plate atop his head, possibly why the blanks were looking at him in surprise.
"Sorry, I thought I'd let myself in," Tide said, taking one of the seats at the table across from the couch. He set the decanter and glasses down, placing one in front of each of their seats and pouring them a full glass. Only after all that did he take the plate off his head and set it down.
Gratis watched him for a moment, but reading body language had never been his strong suit if that body language wasn't screaming terrified. He stepped over and took his own seat, passing out the sandwiches, ensuring the largest went to Cass.
The pair of blanks dug in immediately. They had always seemed to like his sandwiches, Gratis noted. Another flicker of emotion and he crushed it just as viciously as before. Tide threw him a sidelong glance, perhaps a pitying one.
"Now, I'm sure you're both wondering why you're here," Tide said to the pair of blanks, crossing his legs and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Gratis?"
He scowled at Tide. This was not a good idea. At some level, Gratis suspected that even Tide knew that, inhuman entity that it was. If it wasn't for the fact that Tide had told him that Cass and Brunt would both be told regardless of what Gratis decided, he wouldn't even be here.
He'd been mulling over his words, of what he might say, of how much he should share. Tide knew everything about him, but that didn't mean Gratis wanted these two to know as much.
"Shall we start with who you are?" Tide asked idly. Both blanks were staring at him now, confusion plain on their faces. By 'who' Gratis knew Tide meant 'what'.
"I am an assassin of the Culexus Temple of the God-Emperor's Officio Assassinorum," Gratis finally stated. Cass and Brunt's faces… stayed exactly the same. Of course they did, the Temples weren't exactly common knowledge. Given their lives, did they even know what an assassin was?
Both glanced towards Tide, who elaborated while Gratis struggled to figure out how to convey the information in a way that was understandable. "He used to kill people for the Imperium."
That got a reaction from both of them. Suddenly, they were both on guard, pressing back into the couch as though trying to merge with it.
"Used to," Tide repeated. Gratis glared at him. He was still a Culexus. Tide simply gave him a grin. "Well, you weren't exactly sent on this mission to kill anyone, were you? Quite the opposite, in fact."
"This… Everything you are about to hear is highly confidential," Gratis said. He noted the slight confusion breaking through their caution of him. "Its secret. Very, very secret. You cannot share it with anyone."
"Unless you feel like it," Tide added, and Gratis glared at him again. Tide's grin never faded. "What harm could it possibly do at this point?"
"What… What does this mean for us?" Cass asked carefully.
"You are safe," Tide said reassuringly. "Both of you. I will not allow harm to come to either of you and Gratis is of a similar mind."
That wasn't entirely true. Brunt was unnecessary and could die without interfering with the mission. However, Gratis knew it was likely better to not mention that.
"There is more, however," Tide said. "Mainly, the mission Gratis, and a few of his friends, were sent on, has to do with you. Or, rather, your unborn child."
Cass' hand went to her stomach and Brunt shifted in his seat, preparing to leap to her defense at a moment's notice.
"What… what do you mean?" She asked, her voice low, her breathing purposefully measured.
"They are quite safe as well, I assure you," Tide said. "Gratis and his team were sent to retrieve you and your child for safeguarding."
"Why?" Brunt asked, eyes narrowed. "Does this have to do with our… with what we are?"
"Maybe," Tide said, shrugging despite the seriousness of the situation. He was doing his best to alleviate their tension, Gratis realized. If the entity truly thought this was something less than serious, however, Gratis had no idea. "We're still trying to figure that out."
"You don't know?" Cass asked, her voice catching as she looked from Tide to Gratis.
"Temple assassins aren't big on asking questions," Tide said, throwing a sidelong look towards Gratis. "And everyone who might know more either isn't on Monstrum or is currently dead."
The mission had gotten off to a… rough start. The only survivors of the original team were the assassins, so they'd been forced to operate half-blind.
"Is…" Brunt breathed in deeply, blinking back tears. Gratis wasn't sure why, but the sight of these two people trying to stay strong in spite of everything was… he wasn't sure what, but it made him feel something. Suboptimal. "Is our child going to be ok?"
"I will do everything I can to ensure they are," Tide said, his face growing completely serious. "Gratis and his team will also be helping. Isn't that right?"
The last question was directed towards him and he nodded. "Once the Warp storm ends, the… individual who assigned me to this task will surely be coming. She will call upon every resource of the Imperium to safeguard you against all dangers."
Including a certain parasitic, shapeshifting entity.
The Eversor cackled madly as its claws slashed harmlessly through the space where the heavily mutated Kalak dwelled, even as Kalak tried to smash the assassin under one of his massive limbs, to equal success. They had no thoughts of their own defense, nor would they have needed to mount one given their semi-ethereal nature at the moment.
"What's the point of this?" Aliciel asked after a time. "I thought we already determined that they don't work off their aggression."
We did. However, I learned something from my most recent daemonic guest. The power it showed in the Materium was great, far greater than what the raw energies I acquired through its destruction.
"It expended most of its strength," Aliciel said, not sure where he was going with this.
Exactly. If it had not and I'd tried to bring it here, it might actually have posed a threat to me, given what it was able to accomplish.
"How is that possible?" Aliciel asked, deeply disturbed to know that even in his Domain, Tide was not necessarily all-powerful.
My strength in this place grows with the amount of biomass I possess. However, that is not what we are here to discuss. I believe that if we can convince Kalak here to expend his power, we may be able to reduce the amount of corruption in his soul.
"I can't see how that would help," Aliciel pointed out. "It would be little different from you taking off a chunk of it, right?"
I don't believe so. When it arrived, the daemon was not unstable from the expenditure of so much of its power, only greatly weakened. While it is different from a soul, my hope is that the structure of Kalak's soul remains intact and stable, it is simply the amount of corruption that gets reduced.
Aliciel considered the idea. "So that's why you're having him fight the Eversor?"
Yes, but that's where I've run into a problem. Kalak isn't expending any of the power within his soul.
"He seems to be fighting quite hard," Aliciel noted.
He is, but I believe the corruption afflicting him is largely self-sustaining. It feeds off his aggression and fuels it.
"Could you… I don't know, cut the fuel lines?"
Not without damaging his soul even more than it already is.
Aliciel sighed. She wasn't cut out for this kind of Warp nonsense. Why he had asked her of all people to try and help Kalak and the Eversor, she had no idea. This was more the kind of thing Purilla would be an expert with, at least as far as anyone could be an expert with this sort of thing.
"So, you can remove chunks of Kalak's soul," Aliciel said, mostly to herself. "However, doing so causes damage to it and destabilizes its structure. You can also restore it by feeding it that raw Warpstuff you got from the daemons, but that all gets corrupted the moment it touches his soul. We can't just do this piecemeal and ripping it all out in one go would kill him."
Yes.
Was he wondering why she was repeating things they already knew? No, he probably already knew what she was thinking even without reading her mind. She just wanted to feel like she was contributing.
"And he isn't able to expend his own power because… why?"
My working theory is that it would require teaching him sorcery for him to make any noticeable mark in his reserves that isn't immediately restored. Physical exertion doesn't seem to drain much.
"And he's restoring those reserves thanks to the fury he feels at all times," Aliciel said. "Can you make him… not angry?"
That would cut off the fuel, but Flood infection only allows me to interact with his neurons and suppress the chemicals that drive his anger. That is only half the battle. I lack a means of suppressing or disrupting the Warp-based anger he feels.
"Couldn't you use the blank assassin?" Aliciel suggested.
I have asked him and he has refused to aid a chaos spawn.
"He seemed more than willing to help with the space hulk," Aliciel grumbled.
Only because it was liable to endanger his target. Kalak poses that target no threat.
"What about one of the other blanks?"
Cass and Brunt are… processing some things and likely will be for a while. There are other blanks on Monstrum, however. As it happens, I'm likely about to have a prime opportunity to rescue one right now.
"Rescue?" Aliciel asked.
Quite.
Solomon stuck close to the shadows, keeping his heavy robe drawn tight around him, particularly his face. A few others passed him by, perhaps wrinkling their nose at him for reasons even they themselves didn't understand, but otherwise leaving him be. When he reached the cathedral, he did not enter the building itself, but glanced around and then darted down the alleyway, moving quickly to a place he had quickly grown familiar with, just out of sight of the main road. He moved towards a stack of crates, scrambling up their sides.
This was a bad idea, he knew. Getting caught watching a sermon probably wouldn't have landed most people in too much trouble, far from it, but someone like him… It was a bad idea and every time he came here he was just making the risks higher and higher.
And yet, he continued to return, day after day, even as more people began to come to the sermons. Solomon reached the top of the crates, then dug calloused fingers into familiar gaps in the stones of the cathedral, scaling the wall with practiced ease. He soon pulled himself up and onto the roof and carefully scrambled across the tiles, lying on his stomach. The last thing he needed was to be seen from someone down below and have the Arbites called on him. He crawled over the angled surface until he reached the edge of the roof, right over the balcony. He looked down at the street below, searching for anyone who might be looking up. Satisfied there was no one, he swung his legs around and off the roof, dropping down below onto the balcony with as quiet a thud as he could manage.
The first time he had come here, it had been because he was being chased by an angry mob that blamed him for the wrongs that had befallen Deimos and Monstrum. It was hardly the first time, though he'd been quite lucky for once in his life. Several times, he had come close to being caught, yet as if by providence, he had escaped them. Then, when that luck had seemingly run out, she had appeared, emerging from the cathedral like a Living Saint and asking all to come in for a sermon. The mob, being the vocally faithful sort, had quickly forgotten their anger towards him and gone inside with her.
He'd… wanted to watch. He had never attended a sermon before. Technically, he still hadn't, as he'd never actually gone in. The balcony was his viewing platform.
He crouched down low and shifted slowly over the door. His hand reached up to the handle, testing it quietly, and his lips tugged at a smile as he found it was unlocked. The first time he'd come, it hadn't been, yet every time afterwards it had. It seemed whoever was in charge of securing the cathedral had decided the balcony wasn't a likely point of entry.
He cracked the door open, his one eye peering through. The hall on one side was clear. He pushed it open further and stuck his head through, finding the other side was equally empty.
He pushed the door open just enough to allow him to slip inside, then closed it behind him with a quiet click. The cathedral was a small one, meant only for a thousand worshippers at a time and currently filled with only a tenth of that, though that was more than double what it had been the first time he had come. As such, the upper floor was left unoccupied and unlit except by a few candles that cast plenty of shadows to hide in. He moved through those shadows until he'd reached the edge of the indoor balcony and was able to peer down onto the congregation below.
A hundred people milled about on the open floor, some having brought cushions for when they kneeled to pray. From what little he had seen from other sermons, that normally wouldn't be a thing. There wouldn't have been enough space for it. Yet, these ones were a little… different in a number of ways.
His eyes swept up to the statue that dominated the back of the cathedral. It was made in the likeness of one of the God-Emperor's Angels of Death, massive and imposing, armored in equal parts white and blue in a sort of checkered pattern. It was so tall that the helmeted lenses of the statue looked down even upon Solomon, the grille of its faceplate seeming like a horrific scream. The statue held a sword and a shield, both upraised as if in prayer to an even greater being.
It was covered, from head to toe, in vines, woven around each other as if a spider's web. At the base of the statue, a small pile of red fruits was forming as congregants stacked them atop one another in a pyramid structure under the watchful gaze of Sisters of the Cleansing Rains, dressed in green robes and tunics, on the backs of which were emblazoned the symbol of the Sororitas wrapped in vines.
Some of the congregants tried to leave coins or more than one fruit, but the Sisters took them to the side, speaking with them quietly. Whatever was said between them, the congregant would leave just one of the fruits soon after and nothing else before rejoining the others below.
He squinted, staring hard at the faces under their hoods, trying to determine if she was among them, but the angle made it impossible, as always. Sometimes she was present, sometimes she didn't speak, but he came nonetheless. Perhaps at first he'd just been going to catch a glimpse of her, but after a while… Well, he'd never been much for religion before. The God-Emperor seemed like he would hate him, after all. His followers certainly seemed to and hatred was humanity's birthright.
But this new god… what his followers taught didn't seem all that bad. Of course, he had his doubts about whether they'd actually listen to the supposed tenets of this 'Tide' when coming face to face with him. Even the kindest of people seemed to-
"I suppose I can see the appeal of watching from above."
Solomon's thoughts blanked out as his blood ran like ice and his whole body locked into place. He suddenly, impossibly, became aware of someone lying on the ground next to him, watching through the balcony bars. Impossibly, because he recognized her voice.
"It's certainly quieter up here," Sister Serrita Adelus said, as much to herself as to him. "The dark is also quite comfortable compared to the harsh light. They built these things so the lower floor would be quite… bright."
He stared at her, his brain struggling to comprehend the fact that the woman responsible for saving his life was currently lying next to him, a somewhat mischievous smile on her face.
The only thing that stopped him from screaming in shock was a long life of knowing that to make more noise than was necessary was risky. Instead, he exploded into movement, shoving himself off the ground with enough force that he was crouching on the ground for a mere instant and then falling onto his back. He scrambled away like that, only to find his back against a wall.
"I-, I-…" Quickly, Solomon came up with a lie. "I was just looking around!"
Serrita's expression changed into one of quiet amusement. "Every day for two weeks?"
Horror and fear filled his heart. The Sister was still lying on the ground, but she slowly rose to her feet and it was only then that he noticed how tall she was. All the Sisters had seemed tall compared to the regular folk that came to the cathedral, but it was one thing to see that from far above and quite another to suddenly be face to face with a giant nearly a head and a half taller than him. Solomon was shorter than most, but he'd never met anyone as tall as the woman in front of him.
"I apologize for surprising you," Serrita said, holding her hands up, open-palmed in a calming gesture, her face a warm smile. "I've been asking Tide how I should speak with you for some time now, but there isn't exactly a good way to say hello in a situation like this."
Solomon's eyes darted towards the door, something he realized only after he'd already done it that would be easily noticed by the woman. Yet, she did not seem overly stressed by the possibility of him bolting. In fact, she strangely did not seem upset by his presence at all.
"Y-you're… Sister… Adelus…" Solomon said slowly, as though afraid she might attack him any moment.
"I am, but you're free to call me Serrita," she said. She sat down on the floor again, crossing her legs, ignoring the dust now covering parts of her robes and tunic. "And you are?"
"S-Solomon," he said, before realizing it would probably have been a good idea to lie.
"You keep coming back here. I've been wondering, why?"
"I-…" Solomon shifted slightly. If he ran, would she chase him? Even cross-legged, she could probably catch up with him before he made it to the door. And what then? Maybe… maybe he could make her think she had him and then run when she got distracted? "I like… the sermons."
"Do you?" Serrita asked, sounding surprised and pleased. "I'm glad Tide's word has reached you then."
"Are you… upset I haven't made an offering?" Solomon asked. Why wasn't she upset? Everyone was always angry whenever he was around, disgusted by his very presence. He'd assumed he was cursed, yet she seemed… fine.
"Not at all," Serrita said, shaking her head. "The offerings are optional and, in truth, entirely unnecessary. The fruits are of Tide. Whether one eats them or returns them to him, he remains. However, many who bring them like to do so as a symbol of their faith. Some try to outdo others by bringing multiple or by offering trinkets, though we always discourage it. Faith is not something that can be shown through physical means, after all."
"I… I see…" Solomon said, though he didn't really. "Why…" Why don't you hate me? That was what he wanted to ask. Was she just good at hiding it? That had to be it, right?
"Would you like to make an offering?" Serrita asked, her tone making it clear that it was a genuine question and not a request or command. Nonetheless, a spike of fear went through him. Sure, she might not hate him, but what about everyone down there?
"I…" He shook his head quickly. "I'd rather not."
"As you wish," Serrita said, nodding without any hint of anger. Solomon quietly cursed his own cowardice. He did want to make an offering, regardless of what he had said. A symbol of faith, yet he was too scared to make it. The truly faithful were loud, the ones who joined the mobs that hunted him, who made sacrifices to the God-Emperor and-.
"No need for a whole spiral there," a new voice said. Solomon's head whipped around. He was normally quite good at telling when people were around, yet these people must have been able to move silently. However, what he saw wasn't a person, at least not like any person he had ever seen. It looked humanoid, but its flesh was bark and rough looking. Its fingers were vines and its legs were thick trunks. It was tall, though not as tall as Serrita if one discounted the crown of leafy branches that sprouted from its head, which held red fruits hanging from them. Its face was blank, just more bark, save for four gemstone-like eyes, each black and shiny in the little light of the balcony.
"Lord Tide," Serrita said. She didn't rise from her seated position or bow, but she did incline her head in its direction. It returned the gesture.
"Sister Serrita," it said, a hint of amusement in its strange voice, which sounded almost musical. Solomon couldn't determine where it was coming from and it was at that point that he realized he'd forgotten to scream. The wood-man turned its head back to regard him. "I apologize for surprising you."
"You surprised me too," Serrita said, though her voice held laughter in it. "Don't I get an apology?"
Wait, had she said 'Lord Tide'? As in…
"Solomon, wasn't it?" Tide asked. "Good to meet you."
"A-are… are you a god?" Solomon asked, unable to think of anything else to say or ask. The wood-man tilted its head towards Serrita.
"According to her, and a few others, yes," Tide said with a shrug that seemed quite ungodly and very human. "I myself am not convinced."
"Nonetheless, your teachings have helped many people," Serrita said, a note of pride in her voice.
"Your teachings, you mean," Tide said, a note of exasperation in his, though it lacked any heat. He shook his head, the branches swaying as he spoke to himself in a quieter voice. "You therapize one religious order and you end up with another…"
"I… I…" Solomon stared at the pair, laughing and joking with one another. This… this was…
Ah.
This was a dream.
There was no other explanation. Solomon was dreaming. Tide glanced at him, something about the tilt of its head seeming amused. Of course, the wood-man could only hear his thoughts if this was indeed a dream, further reaffirming it was indeed a dream.
"I… I believe I am done with this," Solomon said, rising to his feet, nodding. "I'd like to wake up now."
Both were now looking at him, Serrita having a slightly confused expression, while the amusement of Tide only somehow seemed to grow. That too could only have happened in a dream.
Yes. Dreaming. How was he supposed to wake up from that?
"I believe you have to pretend to go to sleep," Tide suggested. Serrita glanced at him, still confused, but Solomon nodded. That made sense.
Solomon laid down on the ground, squeezing his eyes shut. The floor was quiet hard and it was rather difficult to get comfortable, until he suddenly felt someone tap his forehead. His eyes opened and he saw Serrita, holding the robe that went over her tunic, offering it as a pillow. He lifted his head, grateful even if it was a dream, and felt the thick cloth be pushed underneath him. Quite nice.
"Have a good sleep," Serrita said, stepping away, sounding like she was choking back laughter. He wasn't sure what was so funny, but he wasn't an expert on dreams anyways.
Solomon closed his eyes and soon fell away into sleep.
Serrita glanced at Tide. "Did you come here just to frighten him?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask him for help," Tide said, crossing his arms as he looked down at the sleeping blank. "Other than Gratis, he's the strongest blank on the planet from what I can determine."
"He's a blank?" Serrita asked, genuinely surprised. "That explains why he kept his distance. I'd assumed he was just shy."
"That is not an entirely inaccurate assessment, I think," Tide said. Serrita's brow furrowed.
"Wait, if he's a blank, why am I not… affected or anything?" She glanced at Tide, who was now studying her closely, as though in search of a question. "Did you somehow make me immune?"
"I did not," Tide answered. Her brow furrowed even deeper.
"Then… how-?"
"I have no idea."
The Culexus Assassin who had taken the name of Gratis as his own stepped into the kitchen of what had once been a lesser hive noble's home. Compared to something intended for serving a great number of guests, this kitchen was 'merely' one dedicated for serving a family. There were many such homes, most having been ransacked by the genestealers for resources. Many things that went into their construction, the supplies stored within them, could be turned into weapons, particularly chemical ones.
Not that it had helped them against that… thing.
Gratis prepared for himself a small meal. Normally, he'd have ration cubes, which would hold all the necessary nutrition in the correct quantities to remain in peak form. He'd prefer them as well, but the thing had taken them from him, along with his gear.
So, Gratis was forced to create substitutes. The kitchen was kept well-stocked by invisible servants, but whoever supplied the food was clearly not fond of the bare essentials. No cubes for him. Instead, he prepared a sandwich with grox meat, vegetables that he was all but certain had not been imported but somehow had been grown on Monstrum, and slices of the fruits that hung around. He had resisted eating the things for a time, but quickly realized that if the thing intended to poison or otherwise harm him, there were simpler and faster ways.
What the 'thing' exactly was… wasn't something he knew for sure. It called itself Tide and had introduced itself as such to Gratis and the others. Sadara, the Callidus he had been assigned to this mission with, and Morus, the Vindicare. Of the four, the only one he hadn't spoken with was the Eversor, not that Eversors were known for being overly conversational at the best of times.
Some of them, Gratis knew, were capable of having conversations. Others lacked that ability, driven into near-madness by their programming. The one they had been assigned was such a one and they had not seen them in the weeks since they had been captured. Perhaps they were dead, though Tide assured them they were quite safe. Gratis doubted that very much. Eversors were as much a danger to themselves as they were everyone else. Assuming the Eversor wasn't able to killing anything, they were liable to rip themself apart.
Once his sandwich was finished, Gratis made another two, of similar make, stacking them atop one another and putting them atop a stack of three plates. He carried them out into another room, where the blanks Cass and Brunt were waiting, seated on a couch next to a small table. The parents, or soon-to-be parents in any case, had slowly adapted to their new living environment.
The puppet that claimed to be Tide yet appeared to all the world as an ordinary man, walked in a moment after that, drawing surprised looks from the blanks, not including Gratis himself. Gratis was not used to people taking their eyes off of him when he was in a room. Rather than vanity, it was usually because one didn't take their eyes off the monster threatening to devour their soul. He felt a flicker of long deadened emotions and crushed it with his training.
He was still on a mission. He'd been forced to adapt to suit that changing mission, but there was no need for emotions.
Tide carried with him four glasses, a decanter with water in it, and a fourth plate, complete with a sandwich nearly identical to the ones Gratis himself carried for it. He balanced that plate atop his head, possibly why the blanks were looking at him in surprise.
"Sorry, I thought I'd let myself in," Tide said, taking one of the seats at the table across from the couch. He set the decanter and glasses down, placing one in front of each of their seats and pouring them a full glass. Only after all that did he take the plate off his head and set it down.
Gratis watched him for a moment, but reading body language had never been his strong suit if that body language wasn't screaming terrified. He stepped over and took his own seat, passing out the sandwiches, ensuring the largest went to Cass.
The pair of blanks dug in immediately. They had always seemed to like his sandwiches, Gratis noted. Another flicker of emotion and he crushed it just as viciously as before. Tide threw him a sidelong glance, perhaps a pitying one.
"Now, I'm sure you're both wondering why you're here," Tide said to the pair of blanks, crossing his legs and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Gratis?"
He scowled at Tide. This was not a good idea. At some level, Gratis suspected that even Tide knew that, inhuman entity that it was. If it wasn't for the fact that Tide had told him that Cass and Brunt would both be told regardless of what Gratis decided, he wouldn't even be here.
He'd been mulling over his words, of what he might say, of how much he should share. Tide knew everything about him, but that didn't mean Gratis wanted these two to know as much.
"Shall we start with who you are?" Tide asked idly. Both blanks were staring at him now, confusion plain on their faces. By 'who' Gratis knew Tide meant 'what'.
"I am an assassin of the Culexus Temple of the God-Emperor's Officio Assassinorum," Gratis finally stated. Cass and Brunt's faces… stayed exactly the same. Of course they did, the Temples weren't exactly common knowledge. Given their lives, did they even know what an assassin was?
Both glanced towards Tide, who elaborated while Gratis struggled to figure out how to convey the information in a way that was understandable. "He used to kill people for the Imperium."
That got a reaction from both of them. Suddenly, they were both on guard, pressing back into the couch as though trying to merge with it.
"Used to," Tide repeated. Gratis glared at him. He was still a Culexus. Tide simply gave him a grin. "Well, you weren't exactly sent on this mission to kill anyone, were you? Quite the opposite, in fact."
"This… Everything you are about to hear is highly confidential," Gratis said. He noted the slight confusion breaking through their caution of him. "Its secret. Very, very secret. You cannot share it with anyone."
"Unless you feel like it," Tide added, and Gratis glared at him again. Tide's grin never faded. "What harm could it possibly do at this point?"
"What… What does this mean for us?" Cass asked carefully.
"You are safe," Tide said reassuringly. "Both of you. I will not allow harm to come to either of you and Gratis is of a similar mind."
That wasn't entirely true. Brunt was unnecessary and could die without interfering with the mission. However, Gratis knew it was likely better to not mention that.
"There is more, however," Tide said. "Mainly, the mission Gratis, and a few of his friends, were sent on, has to do with you. Or, rather, your unborn child."
Cass' hand went to her stomach and Brunt shifted in his seat, preparing to leap to her defense at a moment's notice.
"What… what do you mean?" She asked, her voice low, her breathing purposefully measured.
"They are quite safe as well, I assure you," Tide said. "Gratis and his team were sent to retrieve you and your child for safeguarding."
"Why?" Brunt asked, eyes narrowed. "Does this have to do with our… with what we are?"
"Maybe," Tide said, shrugging despite the seriousness of the situation. He was doing his best to alleviate their tension, Gratis realized. If the entity truly thought this was something less than serious, however, Gratis had no idea. "We're still trying to figure that out."
"You don't know?" Cass asked, her voice catching as she looked from Tide to Gratis.
"Temple assassins aren't big on asking questions," Tide said, throwing a sidelong look towards Gratis. "And everyone who might know more either isn't on Monstrum or is currently dead."
The mission had gotten off to a… rough start. The only survivors of the original team were the assassins, so they'd been forced to operate half-blind.
"Is…" Brunt breathed in deeply, blinking back tears. Gratis wasn't sure why, but the sight of these two people trying to stay strong in spite of everything was… he wasn't sure what, but it made him feel something. Suboptimal. "Is our child going to be ok?"
"I will do everything I can to ensure they are," Tide said, his face growing completely serious. "Gratis and his team will also be helping. Isn't that right?"
The last question was directed towards him and he nodded. "Once the Warp storm ends, the… individual who assigned me to this task will surely be coming. She will call upon every resource of the Imperium to safeguard you against all dangers."
Including a certain parasitic, shapeshifting entity.
The Eversor cackled madly as its claws slashed harmlessly through the space where the heavily mutated Kalak dwelled, even as Kalak tried to smash the assassin under one of his massive limbs, to equal success. They had no thoughts of their own defense, nor would they have needed to mount one given their semi-ethereal nature at the moment.
"What's the point of this?" Aliciel asked after a time. "I thought we already determined that they don't work off their aggression."
We did. However, I learned something from my most recent daemonic guest. The power it showed in the Materium was great, far greater than what the raw energies I acquired through its destruction.
"It expended most of its strength," Aliciel said, not sure where he was going with this.
Exactly. If it had not and I'd tried to bring it here, it might actually have posed a threat to me, given what it was able to accomplish.
"How is that possible?" Aliciel asked, deeply disturbed to know that even in his Domain, Tide was not necessarily all-powerful.
My strength in this place grows with the amount of biomass I possess. However, that is not what we are here to discuss. I believe that if we can convince Kalak here to expend his power, we may be able to reduce the amount of corruption in his soul.
"I can't see how that would help," Aliciel pointed out. "It would be little different from you taking off a chunk of it, right?"
I don't believe so. When it arrived, the daemon was not unstable from the expenditure of so much of its power, only greatly weakened. While it is different from a soul, my hope is that the structure of Kalak's soul remains intact and stable, it is simply the amount of corruption that gets reduced.
Aliciel considered the idea. "So that's why you're having him fight the Eversor?"
Yes, but that's where I've run into a problem. Kalak isn't expending any of the power within his soul.
"He seems to be fighting quite hard," Aliciel noted.
He is, but I believe the corruption afflicting him is largely self-sustaining. It feeds off his aggression and fuels it.
"Could you… I don't know, cut the fuel lines?"
Not without damaging his soul even more than it already is.
Aliciel sighed. She wasn't cut out for this kind of Warp nonsense. Why he had asked her of all people to try and help Kalak and the Eversor, she had no idea. This was more the kind of thing Purilla would be an expert with, at least as far as anyone could be an expert with this sort of thing.
"So, you can remove chunks of Kalak's soul," Aliciel said, mostly to herself. "However, doing so causes damage to it and destabilizes its structure. You can also restore it by feeding it that raw Warpstuff you got from the daemons, but that all gets corrupted the moment it touches his soul. We can't just do this piecemeal and ripping it all out in one go would kill him."
Yes.
Was he wondering why she was repeating things they already knew? No, he probably already knew what she was thinking even without reading her mind. She just wanted to feel like she was contributing.
"And he isn't able to expend his own power because… why?"
My working theory is that it would require teaching him sorcery for him to make any noticeable mark in his reserves that isn't immediately restored. Physical exertion doesn't seem to drain much.
"And he's restoring those reserves thanks to the fury he feels at all times," Aliciel said. "Can you make him… not angry?"
That would cut off the fuel, but Flood infection only allows me to interact with his neurons and suppress the chemicals that drive his anger. That is only half the battle. I lack a means of suppressing or disrupting the Warp-based anger he feels.
"Couldn't you use the blank assassin?" Aliciel suggested.
I have asked him and he has refused to aid a chaos spawn.
"He seemed more than willing to help with the space hulk," Aliciel grumbled.
Only because it was liable to endanger his target. Kalak poses that target no threat.
"What about one of the other blanks?"
Cass and Brunt are… processing some things and likely will be for a while. There are other blanks on Monstrum, however. As it happens, I'm likely about to have a prime opportunity to rescue one right now.
"Rescue?" Aliciel asked.
Quite.
Solomon stuck close to the shadows, keeping his heavy robe drawn tight around him, particularly his face. A few others passed him by, perhaps wrinkling their nose at him for reasons even they themselves didn't understand, but otherwise leaving him be. When he reached the cathedral, he did not enter the building itself, but glanced around and then darted down the alleyway, moving quickly to a place he had quickly grown familiar with, just out of sight of the main road. He moved towards a stack of crates, scrambling up their sides.
This was a bad idea, he knew. Getting caught watching a sermon probably wouldn't have landed most people in too much trouble, far from it, but someone like him… It was a bad idea and every time he came here he was just making the risks higher and higher.
And yet, he continued to return, day after day, even as more people began to come to the sermons. Solomon reached the top of the crates, then dug calloused fingers into familiar gaps in the stones of the cathedral, scaling the wall with practiced ease. He soon pulled himself up and onto the roof and carefully scrambled across the tiles, lying on his stomach. The last thing he needed was to be seen from someone down below and have the Arbites called on him. He crawled over the angled surface until he reached the edge of the roof, right over the balcony. He looked down at the street below, searching for anyone who might be looking up. Satisfied there was no one, he swung his legs around and off the roof, dropping down below onto the balcony with as quiet a thud as he could manage.
The first time he had come here, it had been because he was being chased by an angry mob that blamed him for the wrongs that had befallen Deimos and Monstrum. It was hardly the first time, though he'd been quite lucky for once in his life. Several times, he had come close to being caught, yet as if by providence, he had escaped them. Then, when that luck had seemingly run out, she had appeared, emerging from the cathedral like a Living Saint and asking all to come in for a sermon. The mob, being the vocally faithful sort, had quickly forgotten their anger towards him and gone inside with her.
He'd… wanted to watch. He had never attended a sermon before. Technically, he still hadn't, as he'd never actually gone in. The balcony was his viewing platform.
He crouched down low and shifted slowly over the door. His hand reached up to the handle, testing it quietly, and his lips tugged at a smile as he found it was unlocked. The first time he'd come, it hadn't been, yet every time afterwards it had. It seemed whoever was in charge of securing the cathedral had decided the balcony wasn't a likely point of entry.
He cracked the door open, his one eye peering through. The hall on one side was clear. He pushed it open further and stuck his head through, finding the other side was equally empty.
He pushed the door open just enough to allow him to slip inside, then closed it behind him with a quiet click. The cathedral was a small one, meant only for a thousand worshippers at a time and currently filled with only a tenth of that, though that was more than double what it had been the first time he had come. As such, the upper floor was left unoccupied and unlit except by a few candles that cast plenty of shadows to hide in. He moved through those shadows until he'd reached the edge of the indoor balcony and was able to peer down onto the congregation below.
A hundred people milled about on the open floor, some having brought cushions for when they kneeled to pray. From what little he had seen from other sermons, that normally wouldn't be a thing. There wouldn't have been enough space for it. Yet, these ones were a little… different in a number of ways.
His eyes swept up to the statue that dominated the back of the cathedral. It was made in the likeness of one of the God-Emperor's Angels of Death, massive and imposing, armored in equal parts white and blue in a sort of checkered pattern. It was so tall that the helmeted lenses of the statue looked down even upon Solomon, the grille of its faceplate seeming like a horrific scream. The statue held a sword and a shield, both upraised as if in prayer to an even greater being.
It was covered, from head to toe, in vines, woven around each other as if a spider's web. At the base of the statue, a small pile of red fruits was forming as congregants stacked them atop one another in a pyramid structure under the watchful gaze of Sisters of the Cleansing Rains, dressed in green robes and tunics, on the backs of which were emblazoned the symbol of the Sororitas wrapped in vines.
Some of the congregants tried to leave coins or more than one fruit, but the Sisters took them to the side, speaking with them quietly. Whatever was said between them, the congregant would leave just one of the fruits soon after and nothing else before rejoining the others below.
He squinted, staring hard at the faces under their hoods, trying to determine if she was among them, but the angle made it impossible, as always. Sometimes she was present, sometimes she didn't speak, but he came nonetheless. Perhaps at first he'd just been going to catch a glimpse of her, but after a while… Well, he'd never been much for religion before. The God-Emperor seemed like he would hate him, after all. His followers certainly seemed to and hatred was humanity's birthright.
But this new god… what his followers taught didn't seem all that bad. Of course, he had his doubts about whether they'd actually listen to the supposed tenets of this 'Tide' when coming face to face with him. Even the kindest of people seemed to-
"I suppose I can see the appeal of watching from above."
Solomon's thoughts blanked out as his blood ran like ice and his whole body locked into place. He suddenly, impossibly, became aware of someone lying on the ground next to him, watching through the balcony bars. Impossibly, because he recognized her voice.
"It's certainly quieter up here," Sister Serrita Adelus said, as much to herself as to him. "The dark is also quite comfortable compared to the harsh light. They built these things so the lower floor would be quite… bright."
He stared at her, his brain struggling to comprehend the fact that the woman responsible for saving his life was currently lying next to him, a somewhat mischievous smile on her face.
The only thing that stopped him from screaming in shock was a long life of knowing that to make more noise than was necessary was risky. Instead, he exploded into movement, shoving himself off the ground with enough force that he was crouching on the ground for a mere instant and then falling onto his back. He scrambled away like that, only to find his back against a wall.
"I-, I-…" Quickly, Solomon came up with a lie. "I was just looking around!"
Serrita's expression changed into one of quiet amusement. "Every day for two weeks?"
Horror and fear filled his heart. The Sister was still lying on the ground, but she slowly rose to her feet and it was only then that he noticed how tall she was. All the Sisters had seemed tall compared to the regular folk that came to the cathedral, but it was one thing to see that from far above and quite another to suddenly be face to face with a giant nearly a head and a half taller than him. Solomon was shorter than most, but he'd never met anyone as tall as the woman in front of him.
"I apologize for surprising you," Serrita said, holding her hands up, open-palmed in a calming gesture, her face a warm smile. "I've been asking Tide how I should speak with you for some time now, but there isn't exactly a good way to say hello in a situation like this."
Solomon's eyes darted towards the door, something he realized only after he'd already done it that would be easily noticed by the woman. Yet, she did not seem overly stressed by the possibility of him bolting. In fact, she strangely did not seem upset by his presence at all.
"Y-you're… Sister… Adelus…" Solomon said slowly, as though afraid she might attack him any moment.
"I am, but you're free to call me Serrita," she said. She sat down on the floor again, crossing her legs, ignoring the dust now covering parts of her robes and tunic. "And you are?"
"S-Solomon," he said, before realizing it would probably have been a good idea to lie.
"You keep coming back here. I've been wondering, why?"
"I-…" Solomon shifted slightly. If he ran, would she chase him? Even cross-legged, she could probably catch up with him before he made it to the door. And what then? Maybe… maybe he could make her think she had him and then run when she got distracted? "I like… the sermons."
"Do you?" Serrita asked, sounding surprised and pleased. "I'm glad Tide's word has reached you then."
"Are you… upset I haven't made an offering?" Solomon asked. Why wasn't she upset? Everyone was always angry whenever he was around, disgusted by his very presence. He'd assumed he was cursed, yet she seemed… fine.
"Not at all," Serrita said, shaking her head. "The offerings are optional and, in truth, entirely unnecessary. The fruits are of Tide. Whether one eats them or returns them to him, he remains. However, many who bring them like to do so as a symbol of their faith. Some try to outdo others by bringing multiple or by offering trinkets, though we always discourage it. Faith is not something that can be shown through physical means, after all."
"I… I see…" Solomon said, though he didn't really. "Why…" Why don't you hate me? That was what he wanted to ask. Was she just good at hiding it? That had to be it, right?
"Would you like to make an offering?" Serrita asked, her tone making it clear that it was a genuine question and not a request or command. Nonetheless, a spike of fear went through him. Sure, she might not hate him, but what about everyone down there?
"I…" He shook his head quickly. "I'd rather not."
"As you wish," Serrita said, nodding without any hint of anger. Solomon quietly cursed his own cowardice. He did want to make an offering, regardless of what he had said. A symbol of faith, yet he was too scared to make it. The truly faithful were loud, the ones who joined the mobs that hunted him, who made sacrifices to the God-Emperor and-.
"No need for a whole spiral there," a new voice said. Solomon's head whipped around. He was normally quite good at telling when people were around, yet these people must have been able to move silently. However, what he saw wasn't a person, at least not like any person he had ever seen. It looked humanoid, but its flesh was bark and rough looking. Its fingers were vines and its legs were thick trunks. It was tall, though not as tall as Serrita if one discounted the crown of leafy branches that sprouted from its head, which held red fruits hanging from them. Its face was blank, just more bark, save for four gemstone-like eyes, each black and shiny in the little light of the balcony.
"Lord Tide," Serrita said. She didn't rise from her seated position or bow, but she did incline her head in its direction. It returned the gesture.
"Sister Serrita," it said, a hint of amusement in its strange voice, which sounded almost musical. Solomon couldn't determine where it was coming from and it was at that point that he realized he'd forgotten to scream. The wood-man turned its head back to regard him. "I apologize for surprising you."
"You surprised me too," Serrita said, though her voice held laughter in it. "Don't I get an apology?"
Wait, had she said 'Lord Tide'? As in…
"Solomon, wasn't it?" Tide asked. "Good to meet you."
"A-are… are you a god?" Solomon asked, unable to think of anything else to say or ask. The wood-man tilted its head towards Serrita.
"According to her, and a few others, yes," Tide said with a shrug that seemed quite ungodly and very human. "I myself am not convinced."
"Nonetheless, your teachings have helped many people," Serrita said, a note of pride in her voice.
"Your teachings, you mean," Tide said, a note of exasperation in his, though it lacked any heat. He shook his head, the branches swaying as he spoke to himself in a quieter voice. "You therapize one religious order and you end up with another…"
"I… I…" Solomon stared at the pair, laughing and joking with one another. This… this was…
Ah.
This was a dream.
There was no other explanation. Solomon was dreaming. Tide glanced at him, something about the tilt of its head seeming amused. Of course, the wood-man could only hear his thoughts if this was indeed a dream, further reaffirming it was indeed a dream.
"I… I believe I am done with this," Solomon said, rising to his feet, nodding. "I'd like to wake up now."
Both were now looking at him, Serrita having a slightly confused expression, while the amusement of Tide only somehow seemed to grow. That too could only have happened in a dream.
Yes. Dreaming. How was he supposed to wake up from that?
"I believe you have to pretend to go to sleep," Tide suggested. Serrita glanced at him, still confused, but Solomon nodded. That made sense.
Solomon laid down on the ground, squeezing his eyes shut. The floor was quiet hard and it was rather difficult to get comfortable, until he suddenly felt someone tap his forehead. His eyes opened and he saw Serrita, holding the robe that went over her tunic, offering it as a pillow. He lifted his head, grateful even if it was a dream, and felt the thick cloth be pushed underneath him. Quite nice.
"Have a good sleep," Serrita said, stepping away, sounding like she was choking back laughter. He wasn't sure what was so funny, but he wasn't an expert on dreams anyways.
Solomon closed his eyes and soon fell away into sleep.
Serrita glanced at Tide. "Did you come here just to frighten him?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask him for help," Tide said, crossing his arms as he looked down at the sleeping blank. "Other than Gratis, he's the strongest blank on the planet from what I can determine."
"He's a blank?" Serrita asked, genuinely surprised. "That explains why he kept his distance. I'd assumed he was just shy."
"That is not an entirely inaccurate assessment, I think," Tide said. Serrita's brow furrowed.
"Wait, if he's a blank, why am I not… affected or anything?" She glanced at Tide, who was now studying her closely, as though in search of a question. "Did you somehow make me immune?"
"I did not," Tide answered. Her brow furrowed even deeper.
"Then… how-?"
"I have no idea."
I was very conflicted about writing this chapter, mainly because I couldn't determine if the title should be 'Something To Believe In' or 'Something to Be-leaf In'.
As a certain bald Saiyan would say: "I can't... Believe It."
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
Sadara, the Callidus, Morus, the Vindicare, Gratis, the Culexus.
And one Eversor.
With a bigger team before all of this.
And in the future.
With more combatants, with what Gratis believes is all of the Imperium's resources.
What is that kid supposed to be, the freaking Star Child?!
And one Eversor.
With a bigger team before all of this.
And in the future.
With more combatants, with what Gratis believes is all of the Imperium's resources.
What is that kid supposed to be, the freaking Star Child?!
I will say the larger team is in reference to the support staff that goes in with an assassin team, the handlers and stuff. There were not additional assassins sent beyond the four we see.
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
They actually did pretty well with that context.
These four would've been fine and dandy if not for Tide lol (though to be fair, they are basically Space Marine Specialists but even crazier).
- Location
- Missouri
My guess is an Omega-Minus level Blank, like the equivalent of Malcador but in the other direction.