his sacred number is 5 not 4
The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food
- Thread starter Jackson Fox
- Start date
- Crossover Sci-Fi Horror
-
- Tags
- halo (game) warhammer 40k
Banished and it's a fate worse than death.
JmonsterNEO
Spouter of nonsense
- Location
- The quest forums
That's the AI equivalent of realizing you've been staring off into space for a whole hour.
Mmmmm… the Great Horned Rat is pleased-gratified, yes-yes.
Suseiseki
Last Order Songstress
- Location
- Peru
I think that's the point, the guy is not a psyker nor a blank in a universe that by rule makes you one of the two, everyone is a psyker because everyone has a soul, most are just so weak is not worth mentioning, and a special few have the bad luck of being blanks that everyone hates.
I could see Malcador doing something like this, a human with a soul that is not a psyker, a normal human that will never feel chaos, a human that can do everything safely.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
It is, Vashtorr doesn't have a sacred number because he's not a god (yet).
He doesn't have a sacred number, however it is popular (if incorrect) fanon that the sacred numbers 'count down' with each god that arises having the next number counting down in sequence. As Slaanesh is the current youngest god with 6 as their sacred number, that would mean that the next god, be it the Arkifane or the Emperor or someone else, would get 5 as their sacred number.
Additionally in the Arks of Omen book on Vashtorr it is mentioned that he does things in 5's, implying that if he does ever manage to achieve godhood then 5 would indeed be his sacred number.
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Possibly.
Blanks and Psykers tend to have this thing where their powers don't awaken until later in life.
So its completely possible for the kid to be a powerful psyker and no one will know or a powerful blank and no one will know until the kid decides to let them know.
I realy hop its malcky would give one fuck of a olive branche especialy if he kan get old memories back wouldent trust to hand over to lord inquisiter tho would demand a custodes on pure fucking prinsibal that in theres a shans of it being him no other trustworthy Even of not him babys HVA for somthing would probably show them how to deteckt flood spores not like tide kant mutate them in to new strains vant be deteckted.
A Baby, named Malcador, who's the child of two blanks who had an ENTIRE ASSASSIN TEAM SENT TO RETRIEVE THEM AT ALL COSTS, born on a Hive World in the Ghoul Stars, which so far has had the Dark Mechanicum, Orks, Genestealers, Chaos Space Marines, numerous Daemons, an Alpha Grade Psyker, and The Flood all show up within like, a 2 month period.
I refuse to believe that child is not the reincarnation of Malcador the Sigillite. I refuse to believe that Tzeentch isnt directly involved with that planet.
I refuse to believe that child is not the reincarnation of Malcador the Sigillite. I refuse to believe that Tzeentch isnt directly involved with that planet.
Have we forgotten that Tide now has access to Astartes geneseed? Specifically Thousand Sons geneseed? I wonder what Tide is going to do with it?
Chapter 79 - Odd Ones Out
Day 310
"Tide, would you care to explain what we're doing here?" Catherine asked. Rather than simply speaking to her mind, as he normally might have, he had taken on a puppet form and accompanied their group. A group which consisted of Catherine, Purilla, Vidriov, Sathar, Aliciel, Serrita, and Praxiah, as well as nearly two dozen others, only a few of which she recognized and none of which were puppets. At least, the minds behind the bodies weren't puppets, as some like Vidriov and Sathar had been given human forms for whatever this was. Despite the number of people, the lift they travelled in down through the spires was large enough that they could all comfortably fit.
"You'll see soon enough," Tide's puppet replied simply. Despite the fact that they were in public, Tide's preferred form was still that of a walking tree, though it seemed he was clouding the minds of any outside their party to ignore this as none had raised a commotion over his appearance. A sickening alternative, Catherine realized, was that Tide wasn't clouding anyone's minds and they simply didn't care about the presence of a xenos in their midst. A horrifying prospect.
The lift was cleaner than what she'd expect from the depths of a hive city, let alone one of the lower levels like they were on now. They were not in Deimos, but Malum, having travelled via the strange light-form construct Tide possessed. Oddly, he had it continue to accompany them, floating over their heads, dancing and weaving through the air in strange, semi-impossible patterns.
She wasn't sure if any of the others knew of their reason for being there. None had offered the information and she had not asked them, heretics that they all were.
Like you are, Catherine thought, before shaking the doubts away. She was not a heretic. She was a prisoner, but her faith would keep her strong and pure.
"We're here," Tide's puppet announced in its oddly musical voice. A moment later, the lift came to a lurching halt and the doors slid open with a soft trundle. Catherine… was not expecting what she saw.
She had seen the vines Tide had spread throughout the hive cities, no doubt as a means of spying in addition to allowing him to grow the strange fruits that infected any who ate them. However, while such vines were the extent of his presence in the upper levels where she frequented, it seemed the lower levels had been changed in a significantly greater way.
The lift opened into a vast corridor, one that should have been made of rockrete and metal. Instead, the floors were covered by a sort of soft wood-vine, all remarkably flat and having spread out to leave not a gap between them, creating unusual patterns from their seams. The walls were covered in green vegetation of the sort that might be found in a noble's garden, yet larger and wilder. While in the upper levels of the city there were mostly only the red fruits, each the size of a closed fist, here there was a greater variety, both in color, shape, and size.
The smallest fruits looked similar to grapes, though while some were green or purple, others were blue or yellow or orange. They hung high on the walls, though not so high that most adults couldn't reach up and pluck them easily enough. In the middle of the walls were fruits closer in size to the red ones she had come to be familiar with, but these too had stranger shapes and colors and skins, some looking like pears, others oranges. Lowest on the walls were truly massive fruits, some larger than her head, lying as much on the floor as hanging from the wall. She recognized several varieties of melons and even a few vegetables, which oddly grew free from any soil.
The ceiling was strangest of all. Vegetation had grown thick overhead, the only gaps being those areas where glowrods were placed. There were a myriad of plants, many of which were unfamiliar. Occasionally, little seeds with fan-shaped tails would fall, their protrusions catching the air to send them into spins. Other times, flowers would float down in a similar manner, often to be caught by several children who were running about, collecting them presumably to turn into crowns some had woven into their hair. Some adults were also present in the corridor, many talking with each other. Not a single person looked even slightly hungry, all looking like they had been well-fed.
"What is this?" Catherine asked, as much to herself as to Tide. He… had done this?
"Come along, the festival awaits," Tide announced to the group, ignoring her question.
Festival?
The group walked down the corridors, drawing the attention of a few of the adults. Catherine would have expected suspicion, possibly even hostility from them. Such a large group of strangers in the lower levels could easily have been hive gangers or similar trouble. Instead, Catherine saw several smiles and even a few waves. Purely by instinct, she returned the gesture, if a bit awkwardly.
"What sort of festival is this?" It was Serrita who asked the question, moving to the front of the group to walk alongside Catherine and Tide. Catherine drifted slightly away from the heretic.
"They're celebrating good fortune," Tide replied. "And the new year, at least according to the calendar used down here. It's one of the few festivals they were permitted beyond official ones. Or, rather, one of the few festivals that the Arbites never found out about."
"Those official holidays should be enough," Catherine said, drawing several dirty looks from others in the group. She ignored them. "They are sanctioned by the Imperium for a reason."
"That's nice," was all Tide said in answer. He gestured forward to plasteel poles that had been fixed to hang above, decorated with streamers made of more pressed flowers of a dozen different colors. "They're decorating, this time."
Catherine crossed her arms, but said nothing else as they continued their way forward. Small subgroups within their party had begun to form, only Tide remaining apart. Only Tide… and her.
Then, as they reached a large, cavernous chamber that was filled with dozens of people milling about, setting up various decorations, Tide turned around and clapped his hands together, producing an odd sound given they were made of wood.
"Now, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I'm going to go help them set up," Tide said. The group's various conversations all quieted and they all stared at him, even as he turned about on his heel and strode off, quickly finding a woman who was struggling setting up a pole topped by a banner made from some kind of cotton, speaking to her. A moment later, the two had raised the pole to the proper height, with the Star Road snapping into existence over it to help drive it slightly into the ground, fixing it in place.
Left without any direction, the group returned to their conversations, while Catherine returned to brooding silently and alone. At least… at first.
Purilla was the first, leading a large group of young adults and children into the festival, offering their aid as well and spreading out across the cavernous chamber. They provided aid and Catherine noted with significant concern that a few were able to move decorations about with telekinetic abilities. He was teaching psykers?
The next to depart were Aliciel, Serrita, Praxiah, and a few other former Sisters of Battle. Just thanks to their sheer height, they stood out from most of the others within the chamber, yet their aid was welcomed by the locals. After them, even Vidriov and Sathar went to aid in the preparation of the festivities, as well as several of their tech-priest cohorts. Catherine saw Sathar stop to speak with one tech-priest, a woman with no sign of augmentations that had not accompanied their party and was fiddling with some kind of display screen. A few others she did not recognize left then and she was suddenly even more alone than before.
Well, she would not provide aid to this event, unsanctioned as it was. That Tide was helping in it alone was reason enough not to.
"Excuse me." Catherine whirled about, hand dropping down to a laspistol she didn't have, coming face-to-face with an unfamiliar woman, holding an infant perhaps a year old in one arm and the hand of a young girl several years older than that in her other. The girl held a pair of flimsy decorations that Catherine couldn't quite make out the shapes of.
"What is it?" She asked cautiously.
"I'm sorry, but you're quite tall," the woman said and Catherine blinked in confusion. Indeed, Catherine was nearly as tall as a Sister of Battle and had over a head of height on this woman. "Could you help my daughter place her decorations? The place she wants to put them is too high for me to lift her, if its not too much trouble."
The woman half-turned, nodding over to the wall, which was relatively clear of vegetation and instead covered by some kind of large board that had dozens of flimsy decorations covering them. Most of the space had been taken up, yet the highest part remained relatively open.
"I-," Catherine was about to outright refuse, but suddenly her eyes found the young girl's. They were wide as saucer plates, looking up at her, pleading silently. Catherine recalled another pair of eyes like those, eyes she had thought she'd forgotten.
For a long moment, she was silent. Then, at last, she spoke.
"Fine."
The girl cried out in joy and bolted from her mother's side and over to the board, bouncing excitedly. Catherine walked over, face slightly flushing in embarrassment. For a moment, she paused at the wall, then glanced around the chamber.
No one was looking her way.
As quickly as she could, she reached down and picked the girl up, hoisting the child above her head. "Go ahead," she said hurriedly. The girl, perhaps recognizing the urgency, quickly took a pin and stuck one of the decorations, a white rat with green eyes, to the wall. The other, however, remained in her clutches. "You can do the other one."
The girl shook her head, wiggling in Catherine's grasp. "This one's for Calba."
Catherine assumed the infant was Calba. Carefully, she lowered the girl. "I don't know if he'll be able to pin a decoration to the wall," she said, glancing at the mother, who was looking down at Calba.
Calba, in turn, was looking at her and Catherine could almost imagine a look of anger on his face, as though the infant had understood her words and derived insult from them. The infant reached out towards the girl, making a grabbing motion with one hand and the girl swiftly handed him the other decoration, which was a crow of some kind with curled feathers. Upon seizing the decoration, the infant froze for a moment, as though stunned, then looked back at the wall, seemingly determined.
That was… just a baby, right? Had Tide done something to the children? Made them smarter, somehow?
The mother offered Catherine the infant and she lifted him up to the wall as well. With surprising deftness and speed, the infant stuck the decoration to the wall, placing the bird just below the rat.
"Thank you so much," the mother said as Catherine returned Calba to her, nodding in gratitude as she turned to leave. "Emperor's blessings."
Catherine blinked again, too stunned to respond as the woman led her daughter away, seemingly to her family nearby, who were helping set up decorations elsewhere. So, the Emperor was still worshipped? Yet, from what spies and informants she had managed to retain since her fall from grace, all indications were that attendance at sermons were no longer mandated. If she hadn't known that Tide was behind it all, she'd have charged the governor and possibly the whole of the local Ecclesiarchy with heretical negligence.
She shook her head, ridding it of the 'what ifs'. She turned, noticing more of the locals approach, some with more decorations and children in hand.
Catherine sighed.
"Why aren't they… reacting to them?" Akora asked, glancing around as several of her fellow neophytes wielded their psychic abilities. Telekinesis was a basic skill for a trained psyker, but even the most adept among them at it were barely able to lift anything heavier than a thin line of rope with flimsy decorations hanging along its length. Only Purilla had any success at lifting anything heavier.
Akora, for her part, was not using her abilities. Purilla had set time aside to train her, of course, but thus far actually wielding psychic powers was postponed in favor of mental training. Purilla had found the young woman wasn't pleased with this, but a private conversation with Tide had apparently made her more agreeable to the idea. What had been said was left between them and Purilla had chosen not to ask. Perhaps she should have. There could have been important information discussed that Purilla ought to know as Akora's teacher.
No, that was unlikely. Tide would have told her if there was.
Right?
"Lady Purilla?" Akora spoke again, breaking the older woman from her mind's drift.
"Apologies, I was… distracted," Purilla said quickly. "I imagine Tide is baffling their minds, sort of like a psychic glamor, just enough to make them ignore anything unusual like psychic abilities or a walking tree."
"But… without psychic powers?" It wasn't Akora who asked this time, but Abbit, the former hive ganger who had paused in his efforts to take a seat nearby, panting as if having just jogged a mile. Perhaps as a means of providing a reminder of their limits, Tide had implemented a simple, but effective system. Each of her students were using puppet bodies that they controlled through Tide. With the use of their psychic abilities came physical exhaustion, similar to intense exercise. As they grew more comfortable with their abilities, he reduced the speed and intensity of that exhaustion, albeit perhaps a bit slower than was strictly necessary, still erring on the side of caution. There had been no incidents yet and both she and Tide were determined to keep it that way.
"That's correct," Purilla said.
"How does that work?" Akora asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I'm not sure," Purilla answered honestly after a moment, pinching her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "His abilities are strange. But if you're curious, I'm sure you could ask him about them." She nodded towards the tree-form Tide had taken, though unnecessarily. No doubt, he already knew of the conversation.
"Maybe…" Akora said, though she already seemed to have moved on from her interest as her eyes were drawn to a nearby group of locals who were fussing over several items. "What are those?"
Purilla took a closer look and was genuinely surprised. "They're instruments," she said, a hint of her astonishment in her voice.
"Instruments for what?" Akora asked. Purilla thought the girl might be having her on, but there was nothing but sincerity on her face and in her voice.
"For music," she answered. Rather than have the face of someone who realized they'd asked a foolish question, however, Akora's eyes widened in glee.
"Really?!?" She asked excitedly, drawing a strange look from both Purilla and Abbit. She half-walked, half-jogged away, swiftly crossing the chamber towards the group of musicians.
"What's so odd about that?" Abbit said, as much to Purilla as to himself. The older psyker just shrugged.
"Perhaps she's just surprised to see any kinds of instruments down here," Purilla suggested. She certainly was, though she supposed she shouldn't be. The instruments looked as though they had been grown rather than carved from wood, so she suspected she knew their origin.
"The gang I used to run with, we…" Abbit started, before falling silent. Purilla glanced at him, but said nothing, simply waiting. After a moment, Abbit resumed. "They used to play music, sometimes."
Purilla smiled. "Did you ever play?"
"No, I… never had the knack for instruments," Abbit said and Purilla's brow arched slightly.
"But you had the knack for something else?" Purilla suggested, Abbit's gaze snapping over to her.
"I thought you couldn't read minds!"
"Not except for special circumstances," Purilla said. "But I didn't need to read your mind, just your words. Observation is an important skill for a psyker." Especially one who worked for an Inquisitor.
Abbit shrugged, trying and failing to come off as nonchalant. "I… sang, a bit. That's all."
Purilla smiled. "Well, perhaps they could use a singer."
Abbit's eyes turned towards the band and she thought she saw a hint of longing in them, but he shook his head. "Nah, I'd just get in their way."
Purilla was about to speak again, but Abbit had already risen before the first word could leave her mouth and he was striding back to rejoin the others busying themselves with decorating.
She took a breath. She supposed she should get back to it as well.
Aliciel grunted with effort as she lifted the large basket of fruits. It was meant to be carried by two, but she and her Sisters were strong enough to each carry one on their own, albeit with some struggle. After taking a moment to prepare herself, she lifted the basket up and planted it firmly onto one of the long tables that had been set out. The decorations were ready and now many more locals had arrived, some having spent the time harvesting fruits for the feast.
This was not her first festival or feast by any means. Parade duty had been a fairly common task for the Order of the Cleansing Rains over the last fifty years. They'd been a common sight, at least in the upper levels, during Sanguinala and other major religious events. This, however, was a bit different. They weren't in uniform and this wasn't a religious event.
Well, not for Aliciel, at least. She glanced at Serrita, who was hefting a similar basket of fruits and looking quite pleased to be present at what was probably going to become an annual holiday for her burgeoning religious cults forming in Deimos and even in other hive cities now that the Sisters operated with almost no restrictions on movement.
Suddenly, Evelayne came up alongside her. "Aliciel, could we speak for a moment?"
It was still somewhat odd to hear her Canoness (former Canoness?) address her so casually, and odder still for her to respond in kind, but Aliciel had endeavored to get over the feeling. The rules had changed. "Of course, what is it?"
"Not here," Evelayne said, nodding towards a corner of the chamber where few people happened to be. Aliciel followed her over and Evelayne turned, glancing about the room as if searching for a specific target. Aliciel followed her gaze and found it resting on Catherine Ellen, who was sitting on a crate, looking out of breath and drinking from a canister.
"What is it?" She asked again, not letting the hint of her concern leak into her voice. Evelayne said nothing for a moment, before turning to Aliciel.
"I'm concerned about Ca-, about the Inquisitor," Evelayne said, coughing as though that might somehow cover up her slip. Aliciel wasn't sure why she'd want to cover it up.
"Do you think she's planning something?" Aliciel asked, eyes narrowing instantly.
"What? No," Evelayne said, shaking her head quickly. "I think she's… Well, she's still devoted to the Imperium. It's been nearly a year, yet she remains as stubborn as ever."
"She just needs time to adjust," Aliciel supplied the same answer she'd been given in response to that same question.
"But what if she never comes around to…" Evelayne gestured about the chamber to the festival being prepared around them.
Aliciel gestured to the Inquisitor, who was speaking to a local with another child holding decorations, looking somewhat pained yet resigned. "Does that look like someone who isn't coming around?"
"But is she like that because she wants to be, or because she doesn't have the opportunity to return to her old ways?" Evelayne asked.
Aliciel shrugged. "Don't forget, it took almost all of us years in the Domain before we were ready to face our old daemons. I imagine it will be no easier for an Inquisitor, even a young one."
Evelayne nodded idly. "I suppose so…"
"Honestly, compared to Kalak, the Rubric Marine, and the Eversor, I'd say Catherine over there is a lot further along on her journey," Aliciel said, chuckling somewhat with self-depreciation. Evelayne's gave a mirthless laugh.
"I suppose so," she said again. She gave Aliciel a smile. "You're doing good, you know that?"
Aliciel shifted her weight slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden praise. "Just… trying to help," she said after a moment. She glanced in curiosity at the older woman. "Why the interest in Catherine anyways? Are you interested in helping her along like I am with those three?"
"Maybe," Evelayne said, her eyes going slightly distant as they returned to the Inquisitor, who was at the front of a long line of children, holding more decorations to cover the upper portions of the chamber's walls, waiting with barely contained excitement as the woman lifted one after another to allow them to place said décor.
Eoa stood in one corner of the large chamber, which was nearly packed full by the sheer number of people that had arrived. Most were on the edges, but those brave or skilled were in the center, dancing around a central stage that had been constructed to hold a band of musicians. She did not have much of a sense of what constituted 'good' music versus 'bad' music, as it seemed to be subjective. However, in her subjective opinion, their music was… fine.
Granted, she had not listened to much music since acquiring her new body. Her crew had often played music, sometimes quietly and sometimes loudly enough to shake one of her decks. She recalled most of the crew that had worked on the Embrace were quite fond of listening to music as they worked, often even when doing so would be a detriment to what could sometimes be a hostile work environment.
Nonetheless, experiencing music with organic audio sensors and an organic brain to help interpret the sounds, it was… still just fine. She liked it more than she had back then. Everyone else seemed to like it as well. That must mean it was good, she supposed.
She strode over to a nearby table, one that had been heaped high with the myriad fruits, vegetables, and even meats that she suspected were one of Tide's additions. Said meats were quite popular for the locals and being constantly resupplied, though by who or from where she hadn't been able to see. Personally, Eoa had found she preferred a chopped up fruit salad.
Technically speaking, her body didn't need to eat. While it did consume energy, said energy was able to be harvested from Flood biomass simply through physical contact, even airborne spores could be utilized in such a manner and were usually sufficient to keep her puppet body operational for an indefinite period of time. However, after a local had offered her a plate of fruits, she had indulged her curiosity and tried them, finding they were shockingly good.
Good enough that this was her ninth plate in under an hour. If one were particularly observational, they'd have noted that her puppet form had grown in height by nearly two inches and a slight increase in overall muscle mass thanks to this, as the biomass was redistributed for practicality. It was possible that several of the locals were particularly observational, as she'd noticed a few of them staring at her with unreadable expressions on their faces that might have been either awe or horror.
Food was… a new experience for her. She knew many of the various foods and ingredients that Tide had attempted to recreate which found their origins in old Earth. While she couldn't vouch for their similarity in either genetics or in taste, she had found she liked oranges quite a bit, disliked pears, was fond of watermelon, hated steak, but quite enjoyed the chicken. She had created a mental list as she'd picked her way through the entire selection of available foods and drinks, ranking their varieties.
"Enjoying the festivities?" Eoa turned around to find Tide had managed to sneak up on her, though whether that was due to her distractedly devouring what she believed was his attempt to recreate corn on the cob. As her mouth was full, and her memory files recalled it was considered rude in most societies to speak under such conditions, she nodded.
Tide might have been smiling at her, despite the fact that his face was a blank wooden mask, and he nodded down at the plate, which included a number of fried chicken drumsticks.
"I see you've found your favorites," he noted. Eoa had finished the corn, setting the picked clean cob down back onto her plate, wiping her mouth before speaking.
"I am testing the varieties of chicken available," she explained. "I have already tried grilled. I expect fried to be of similar quality."
"I'm glad you appreciate my cooking," Tide said, his lilting voice carrying amusement. "I was worried I wouldn't get the taste right."
"I would not know in any case," Eoa replied and Tide shrugged.
"I suppose not," he said, before gesturing to the dancefloor. "Do you not intend to use all that new muscle and height to show off?"
Eoa blinked after finding her face had heated up slightly and another unfamiliar emotion that she registered as embarrassment made her want to cringe. She shook her head, in an act similar to what she had seen others do to 'clear' it, and to respond to Tide's question. "I have no interest in dancing."
"You'd do quite well at it," Tide said. That much could probably be considered fact. Eoa almost unlimited control over every part of this body, including individual muscles. More than that, her recovered files included many dances she had seen performed by her crew of countless varieties.
Still, though, she had no interest in dancing and told as much to Tide again. He nodded, accepting her reaffirmed answer, just as the music lulled as one song ended.
"Do you wish to dance?" Eoa asked and Tide tilted his head back and forth, as if trying to balance something atop it.
"Not particularly," he said. "I prefer listening to the music, to be honest."
In that moment, the music burst back into life, trumpets and drums and violins and a piano flaring with sound that sent a shiver down Eoa's spine for reasons she couldn't quite place.
"Ah, so you prefer this kind of music?" Tide said, with a knowing look that he shouldn't have been able to have with so static a face.
Eoa tried to recall her memory files on music, but they had been relatively sparse to begin with and much of what remained was still corrupted or lost. "What… song is this?"
"This one was dreamt up by the pianist," Tide replied, nodding to the man in question. "He just called it 'Rhapsody'."
"Its… very good," Eoa said. Tide nodded, stroking his chin as if in thought. "What is it?"
"I think I just thought of a good name for the moon in that nearby system."
Passing through whirling forms, rippling cloth, shouts of joy and laughter, Purilla had to take a seat as she felt the myriad of positive emotions crash against her like waves, letting out a long breath as she disconnected, somewhat reluctantly, from the minds of those around her. The party was in full swing and the dance floor had grown to nearly encompass the entire chamber, with tables, still stocked with food, being pushed to the edges along with the few left who had not deigned to dance.
Purilla had, for a short time. A few of her students had as well. However, it was one of her students who had not that had made her stop. Akora sat, alone in a corner, eyes closed, her face a picture of concentration. Not on feeling the emotions of those around her, but on closing her mind to them. A pang of pity had drawn Purilla away from the floor and to the girl, who was denied the chance to join in just because of her power.
She wondered, as she sat next to a silent Akora, if it had been cruel to take her to the festival at all. Even the strongest among the other students was merely an Epsilon and had learned enough to at least shut off his mind from others to prevent any emotional overbalance. Akora was far greater in power and, in truth, a better student than any of them. She had picked up skills that had taken Purilla months to learn in days and weeks.
But her path was a much longer and rockier one as well. Even if they assumed their connection to Tide prevented the worst dangers of the Warp from affecting them, the power of an alpha-grade psyker was immense enough that she could level this whole hive if she wasn't careful. Tide had promised he would keep a close eye on the girl and that was enough for Purilla, but only barely and the concern remained strong.
Purilla reached out to place a hand on the girl's shoulder, but then thought better of it, stopping short.
Tide? Purilla thought and felt his presence rise as though from the depths of her mind.
She is safe. The meditations you taught her keep her so.
Perhaps she shouldn't be here, Purilla suggested. She doubted she needed to communicate her belief that he was taking this situation rather… lightly.
In that moment, Akora's eyes opened and her gaze, distant for a moment before returning to focus, turned towards Purilla. She smiled, suddenly looking slightly out of breath. "Oh, hello miss Purilla. I'm feeling kind of tired, so I'd like to leave, if that's alright."
Purilla blinked, then nodded. "Of course, Akora. Have a good sleep."
"I always do these days," Akora said with a half-joking smile. A moment later, there was a flash of soft, silvery light as the Star Road coalesced around her and she vanished a moment later.
"I imagine she's pining for the comforts of home after spending so much time among the lower classes," Purilla said quietly with a chuckle. Tide was silent and her chuckle died in her throat. "Sorry."
Have you enjoyed the festival?
It was an obvious change of subject, but she wasn't that upset about it and she nodded. "Yes, almost everyone is happy and having a good time. It's a bit much to take in, but… it's a good feeling."
I am glad. I hope these sorts of events become more popular across Monstrum.
"Did you organize this towards that end?"
I did not. They came up with this on their own. Granted, I may have provided some support in the food-area.
Purilla nodded falling silent, but she couldn't deny the curiosity scratching away at her. "Why did you have me bring them?"
Them? Or Akora?
Purilla's jaw worked for a moment. "Both," she said, at last.
The answer is the same. They all deserve more than what they were destined for in life. All of you do.
"There are other ways to share the joys of life with them," Purilla pointed out. "Safer ways."
You underestimate them.
"I've been teaching them for only a month," Purilla said. "They barely know enough to control their own power. Bringing them to a highly emotional event like this…" She trailed off, her students, for a moment, forgotten.
Highly emotional event.
Purilla.
"What if…" Purilla began slowly. "What happens to the emotions of these people? Psychically speaking?"
Psychically speaking, they enter or, I suppose, are already apart of the Warp. I imagine that is the only reason why any of the daemons, other than our hidden watcher, are still around. They feed off those emotions.
"Can you affect that?"
Purilla…
"Let me…" Purilla paused, thinking over her words. "Can you take me to the Domain?"
An instant later, she was there, floating in the cool depths of the ocean.
"The souls of the living reside within them, its only the dead who fully enter the Warp," Purilla said, mostly to herself as she tried to develop the thoughts running rampant in her mind. "But, those who are Altered come here when they die, safe from daemons."
Relatively safe.
"Right," Purilla said, nodding absently. "But the souls of the living Altered, they're still in their bodies. But their connection to you ensures their souls go to you, rather than the Warp. I've seen it, right before we first met. There was… a string, connecting this place to the soul of an Altered I had taken into the Warp to study. The same was true of the victim of that first daemon you slew. We were both able to follow that string to reach the Domain."
Tide remained silent, though she could feel his caution at her line of thought… But also his curiosity.
"Can you show me those strings again?" Purilla asked. A moment later, they were there, silver strings, like strands of the Star Road, and just as unbreakable. Hundreds of billions of strings, all connected to a living soul, a different denizen of Monstrum. They were like the trunks of trees, or the reeds of a lake, too long that she couldn't see the start or the end of them. "Can you reduce this to just the people at the festival?"
Hundreds of billions faded into darkness and only a cluster remained. Purilla floated closer to them, reaching out not just with her psychic abilities, but also with everything she had learned about existing within this place Tide called his Domain.
And she felt them. She felt their emotions, travelling along the strings, the same joy and happiness she had felt while dancing among the people in the Materium. And she felt those emotions travel from the Domain and upwards. And when she turned her head up, she saw where they went.
Above her, a crack in the Domain yawned, a swirling maelstrom of energy, the grinning face of a daemon, a window into the Warp. This was merely a number of representations of the truth, Purilla realized. Tide was not allowing her to peer directly into the Warp from the Domain, as he had previously refused to.
"I wonder if this is why the daemons are so riled up," Purilla thought to herself. "They can still feed on the emotions that are leaking into the Warp through you, but you're catching the souls. Like a sieve. It must be confusing for them."
Its possible that this may be dangerous. It is well that you discovered it.
"Are you able to… plug the leak?"
I do not know.
"Can you alter the path of the emotions?" Purilla suggested and she watched as the strings bent and curved, elongating and shortening, as though pulled and pushed by invisible hands. Yet, the emotions continued upwards, unabated.
It seems I can change the road, but not the destination.
Purilla stroked her chin for a moment, when another idea came to her. Instantly, she felt Tide's caution spike, as he no doubt understood what she wanted.
That's dangerous.
"It would only be a small amount," she argued.
Still dangerous.
"You've shown you can defeat even greater daemons within this realm," Purilla pointed out.
A heavily weakened one.
"We'll never learn if we aren't willing to take risks," Purilla argued.
Some risks are too great.
"You let an alpha-grade psyker attend a party earlier, I don't think you have the right to lecture me about risks," Purilla said, crossing her arms. Tide was silent for a moment.
Very well. But only a small amount.
And like that, Tide produced a small amount of raw Warp energy in front of her. It was less than she had hoped for, not even enough to be equivalent to that which made up a lesser daemon.
Purilla felt a large amount of Tide's presence gather in her vicinity within the Domain, as he turned a great amount of attention to this task. Greater than she had ever felt before, to the point where if he were actively focusing upon her, she felt as though she might be crushed by the pressure. Even just being near felt as though she had been dragged far below the surface of an ocean.
With care and the same level of focus that he might have needed to coordinate an army tens of billions strong, Tide moved the raw Warp power into the path of the strings… and watched as it changed.
It was slow, at first. The emotions colored the colorless, translucent semi-solid material, becoming a ruddy orange and then brightening, like the color of flame. As if in response to that mental comparison, it changed again, this time in composition. Fire licked at its sides, which grew and lengthened and thinned and widened. She saw faces in the flames, one that almost looked like an actor's mask, and this also changed the development.
The flames receded somewhat as structure took shape. It gained limbs of cloth with joints of fire, covered in strange patterns and a myriad of bright colors. The mask that was its face was colored in halves, one white and one red. A hat, like a pair of thick horns, grew out of the back of its reshaping skull, ending in bells, one silver, one gold.
The flaming were changed to a humming, molten liquid, but sparks still remained at its shoes with curved tips as it stepped away from the strings of its own accord, floating towards Purilla as though performing a dancing leap underwater. In an instant, she was yanked back by an invisible force, and she felt Tide's presence surge forward.
"Wait!" She cried out, just as she saw the outline of tendrils powerful enough to rend a greater daemon to nothing encircle the newborn Neverborn. "I don't think its hostile!"
It's a daemon.
"Then tell me what makes up its existence?!?" Purilla demanded. She could see the Neverborn struggling impotently in Tide's grasp. Yet, the tendrils did not squeeze, did not yet rip it back into the base components it was made of.
It… is made up of joy. It seeks to spread that joy, so it can feed upon it.
"And is that bad?" Purilla asked.
It can be. The Dark Prince was wrought by an excess of emotions, joy among them. Joy is a fine emotion, but there is an important reason people are capable of feeling more than just joy.
"But is this… entity, a threat?"
Yes. It's a daemon.
"We should study it," Purilla said. "Can it… Is it intelligent? Can we communicate?"
It does not seem inclined towards talking.
"Perhaps because you currently have it in a stranglehold," Purilla pointed out. Tide, reluctantly, loosened his grip, though his presence remained powerful enough to feel. The Neverborn, now somewhat freed, floated about, each movement like that of a dancer's, as it leapt and spun from place to place, seeming almost curious as it explored the area around it. Then, it whirled around towards Purilla, and bowed.
"Hello," Purilla greeted, uncertainty suddenly gnawing at her. What if Tide was right? What if this was a horrible mistake?
The Neverborn did not say anything. Perhaps it really couldn't speak. Instead, however, it began to dance again. Each time its shoes struck what could be equated to the ground, sparks would leap up from them. It swayed back and forth, similar to how many the dancers had back at the festival, whirling about, sending its odd hat-like horns whirling as well, the jingle of their bells clear and ringing.
Purilla couldn't help herself. She gave a soft chuckle. It was a funny dance. And, she realized, that was the point. The Neverborn desired her to be happy so it could feed off that emotion. The idea was concerning, but…
"Does it get stronger the more emotion it feeds off of?" Purilla asked. Tide was silent for a moment, and she felt his scrutiny grow larger, along with an even greater heightening of his concern.
Yes. It was a very slight amount, but the total amount of Warp energy making it up just increased because you found it amusing.
Purilla's face colored slightly. "Sorry."
I'm going to destroy it now.
"Wait!" Purilla cried out again. "What if… what if we got it to work with us?"
Daemons are not people, Purilla. They are what they are and can never be anything else.
"Then we use it as a tool," Purilla suggested. "Not all Warp-entities are necessarily hostile to life."
They do what they do because they cannot help it.
"This Neverborn desires to bring joy," Purilla said. She suspected that if she lost this argument, she'd never see the raw Warp energy again and any chances of it being useful to Tide would be lost forever. "That's a lot like what you want to do."
I desire for people to experience more than suffering. There is a key difference. If allowed, this daemon would create a world filled by people experiencing nothing but joy. They would do nothing but experience joy and they would starve and die because they would feel no other desires.
"But you can destroy it easily," Purilla said. "With a snap of your fingers or even less effort than that!"
Tide was silent to that, so Purilla pushed on.
"The Warp is the mirror of the Materium," Purilla continued. "You know this."
It is a twisted reflection.
"But still a reflection of us!" Purilla said. "And this daemon is a reflection of the people at that festival, the people that you helped, that were able to become more than what the galaxy decided they could be. Whose to say you couldn't do the same for the Warp?"
Tide remained quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, she felt his reluctance in every word.
Once, long ago, the Warp was not always dominated by Chaos. If what little knowledge of that time I possess is true, then perhaps what you suggest could be done.
Purilla smiled. "You're the one who's always giving out second chances."
She could feel Tide's mind working, arguing with himself and possibly with others as well, discussing, revising, and, finally… relenting.
It can remain. For now. However, I will be watching it closely and it is the only daemon I will permit to exist at this time.
"I understand," Purilla said, nodding. "Thank you, Tide. I think… I think this might the key to helping the whole of the galaxy."
For all our sakes, I hope you are correct.
Catherine watched from her seat on a bench as the festival slowly ended. The band packed up and went home, the leftover food, of which there was an abundance, was taken in sacks or baskets by those who desired it. She had not attended a party in some months, not since she had actually held a role of importance and prestige. Though, this was unlike any party she had attended as an Inquisitor.
By the Throne, what was she doing? She shook her head. This was an illegal event and not only had she done nothing to stop it, she had actively participated. What a failure of an Inquisitor she was.
"Did you have a fun time?"
Catherine's eyes rose to stare up at Evelayne Praxiah.
"No," Catherine lied, but it was clear her skills at deception had waned, because the former canoness showed only an expression of amused disbelief. "I am an Inquisitor. This event only affirmed for me that this world is truly lost."
"Sure, sure," the older woman said as she took a seat on the bench a bit too close to Catherine. Ellen refused to move away, however. "You looked like you were really suffering earlier, with all those kids."
Catherine's face flushed, and she pointedly looked away. "Tide told me to."
"And we both know that's a lie," Praxiah said with a chuckle. Catherine turned around to glare at the woman.
"What do you want, traitor?" Catherine demanded and Praxiah actually winced at the word.
"I wanted to apologize about the last time we spoke, in the cathedral," Praxiah said. "I wasn't expecting you to just run out like that. I'd like to continue the conversation, if you're open to it."
"I am not," Catherine said firmly.
"I see," Praxiah replied after a moment. She nodded, before rising. "Well, if you ever wish to come by the cathedral again, you're welcome to. Maybe we can share a glass of wine over it."
Catherine's jaw worked. "I am not returning to Deimos."
Praxiah turned, genuine surprise on her face. "What?"
"I suppose Tide would eventually share this information with you whether I wished it or not, so I will just tell you," Catherine said, rising as well. "I have been doing nothing but sitting on my laurels in Deimos for nearly an entire year now. No more. Tide is up to something on Monstrum and he may have blinded you to it, but I remain clearsighted with the God-Emperor to support me."
"Catherine…" Praxiah said softly, sounding disappointed.
"Inquisitor Ellen," she hissed in response. "And that is all you may ever call me. I will be staying here and uncovering just what Tide plans to do to the people living here. Blind or not, they are still citizens of the Imperium and I will guide them back to His light."
"It's a harsh light," Praxiah said, but Catherine was already walking away.
Praxiah sighed. Foolish, foolish girl. Catherine would have been a perfect new recruit for the old Order of the Cleansing Rains.
"Tide, would you care to explain what we're doing here?" Catherine asked. Rather than simply speaking to her mind, as he normally might have, he had taken on a puppet form and accompanied their group. A group which consisted of Catherine, Purilla, Vidriov, Sathar, Aliciel, Serrita, and Praxiah, as well as nearly two dozen others, only a few of which she recognized and none of which were puppets. At least, the minds behind the bodies weren't puppets, as some like Vidriov and Sathar had been given human forms for whatever this was. Despite the number of people, the lift they travelled in down through the spires was large enough that they could all comfortably fit.
"You'll see soon enough," Tide's puppet replied simply. Despite the fact that they were in public, Tide's preferred form was still that of a walking tree, though it seemed he was clouding the minds of any outside their party to ignore this as none had raised a commotion over his appearance. A sickening alternative, Catherine realized, was that Tide wasn't clouding anyone's minds and they simply didn't care about the presence of a xenos in their midst. A horrifying prospect.
The lift was cleaner than what she'd expect from the depths of a hive city, let alone one of the lower levels like they were on now. They were not in Deimos, but Malum, having travelled via the strange light-form construct Tide possessed. Oddly, he had it continue to accompany them, floating over their heads, dancing and weaving through the air in strange, semi-impossible patterns.
She wasn't sure if any of the others knew of their reason for being there. None had offered the information and she had not asked them, heretics that they all were.
Like you are, Catherine thought, before shaking the doubts away. She was not a heretic. She was a prisoner, but her faith would keep her strong and pure.
"We're here," Tide's puppet announced in its oddly musical voice. A moment later, the lift came to a lurching halt and the doors slid open with a soft trundle. Catherine… was not expecting what she saw.
She had seen the vines Tide had spread throughout the hive cities, no doubt as a means of spying in addition to allowing him to grow the strange fruits that infected any who ate them. However, while such vines were the extent of his presence in the upper levels where she frequented, it seemed the lower levels had been changed in a significantly greater way.
The lift opened into a vast corridor, one that should have been made of rockrete and metal. Instead, the floors were covered by a sort of soft wood-vine, all remarkably flat and having spread out to leave not a gap between them, creating unusual patterns from their seams. The walls were covered in green vegetation of the sort that might be found in a noble's garden, yet larger and wilder. While in the upper levels of the city there were mostly only the red fruits, each the size of a closed fist, here there was a greater variety, both in color, shape, and size.
The smallest fruits looked similar to grapes, though while some were green or purple, others were blue or yellow or orange. They hung high on the walls, though not so high that most adults couldn't reach up and pluck them easily enough. In the middle of the walls were fruits closer in size to the red ones she had come to be familiar with, but these too had stranger shapes and colors and skins, some looking like pears, others oranges. Lowest on the walls were truly massive fruits, some larger than her head, lying as much on the floor as hanging from the wall. She recognized several varieties of melons and even a few vegetables, which oddly grew free from any soil.
The ceiling was strangest of all. Vegetation had grown thick overhead, the only gaps being those areas where glowrods were placed. There were a myriad of plants, many of which were unfamiliar. Occasionally, little seeds with fan-shaped tails would fall, their protrusions catching the air to send them into spins. Other times, flowers would float down in a similar manner, often to be caught by several children who were running about, collecting them presumably to turn into crowns some had woven into their hair. Some adults were also present in the corridor, many talking with each other. Not a single person looked even slightly hungry, all looking like they had been well-fed.
"What is this?" Catherine asked, as much to herself as to Tide. He… had done this?
"Come along, the festival awaits," Tide announced to the group, ignoring her question.
Festival?
The group walked down the corridors, drawing the attention of a few of the adults. Catherine would have expected suspicion, possibly even hostility from them. Such a large group of strangers in the lower levels could easily have been hive gangers or similar trouble. Instead, Catherine saw several smiles and even a few waves. Purely by instinct, she returned the gesture, if a bit awkwardly.
"What sort of festival is this?" It was Serrita who asked the question, moving to the front of the group to walk alongside Catherine and Tide. Catherine drifted slightly away from the heretic.
"They're celebrating good fortune," Tide replied. "And the new year, at least according to the calendar used down here. It's one of the few festivals they were permitted beyond official ones. Or, rather, one of the few festivals that the Arbites never found out about."
"Those official holidays should be enough," Catherine said, drawing several dirty looks from others in the group. She ignored them. "They are sanctioned by the Imperium for a reason."
"That's nice," was all Tide said in answer. He gestured forward to plasteel poles that had been fixed to hang above, decorated with streamers made of more pressed flowers of a dozen different colors. "They're decorating, this time."
Catherine crossed her arms, but said nothing else as they continued their way forward. Small subgroups within their party had begun to form, only Tide remaining apart. Only Tide… and her.
Then, as they reached a large, cavernous chamber that was filled with dozens of people milling about, setting up various decorations, Tide turned around and clapped his hands together, producing an odd sound given they were made of wood.
"Now, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I'm going to go help them set up," Tide said. The group's various conversations all quieted and they all stared at him, even as he turned about on his heel and strode off, quickly finding a woman who was struggling setting up a pole topped by a banner made from some kind of cotton, speaking to her. A moment later, the two had raised the pole to the proper height, with the Star Road snapping into existence over it to help drive it slightly into the ground, fixing it in place.
Left without any direction, the group returned to their conversations, while Catherine returned to brooding silently and alone. At least… at first.
Purilla was the first, leading a large group of young adults and children into the festival, offering their aid as well and spreading out across the cavernous chamber. They provided aid and Catherine noted with significant concern that a few were able to move decorations about with telekinetic abilities. He was teaching psykers?
The next to depart were Aliciel, Serrita, Praxiah, and a few other former Sisters of Battle. Just thanks to their sheer height, they stood out from most of the others within the chamber, yet their aid was welcomed by the locals. After them, even Vidriov and Sathar went to aid in the preparation of the festivities, as well as several of their tech-priest cohorts. Catherine saw Sathar stop to speak with one tech-priest, a woman with no sign of augmentations that had not accompanied their party and was fiddling with some kind of display screen. A few others she did not recognize left then and she was suddenly even more alone than before.
Well, she would not provide aid to this event, unsanctioned as it was. That Tide was helping in it alone was reason enough not to.
"Excuse me." Catherine whirled about, hand dropping down to a laspistol she didn't have, coming face-to-face with an unfamiliar woman, holding an infant perhaps a year old in one arm and the hand of a young girl several years older than that in her other. The girl held a pair of flimsy decorations that Catherine couldn't quite make out the shapes of.
"What is it?" She asked cautiously.
"I'm sorry, but you're quite tall," the woman said and Catherine blinked in confusion. Indeed, Catherine was nearly as tall as a Sister of Battle and had over a head of height on this woman. "Could you help my daughter place her decorations? The place she wants to put them is too high for me to lift her, if its not too much trouble."
The woman half-turned, nodding over to the wall, which was relatively clear of vegetation and instead covered by some kind of large board that had dozens of flimsy decorations covering them. Most of the space had been taken up, yet the highest part remained relatively open.
"I-," Catherine was about to outright refuse, but suddenly her eyes found the young girl's. They were wide as saucer plates, looking up at her, pleading silently. Catherine recalled another pair of eyes like those, eyes she had thought she'd forgotten.
For a long moment, she was silent. Then, at last, she spoke.
"Fine."
The girl cried out in joy and bolted from her mother's side and over to the board, bouncing excitedly. Catherine walked over, face slightly flushing in embarrassment. For a moment, she paused at the wall, then glanced around the chamber.
No one was looking her way.
As quickly as she could, she reached down and picked the girl up, hoisting the child above her head. "Go ahead," she said hurriedly. The girl, perhaps recognizing the urgency, quickly took a pin and stuck one of the decorations, a white rat with green eyes, to the wall. The other, however, remained in her clutches. "You can do the other one."
The girl shook her head, wiggling in Catherine's grasp. "This one's for Calba."
Catherine assumed the infant was Calba. Carefully, she lowered the girl. "I don't know if he'll be able to pin a decoration to the wall," she said, glancing at the mother, who was looking down at Calba.
Calba, in turn, was looking at her and Catherine could almost imagine a look of anger on his face, as though the infant had understood her words and derived insult from them. The infant reached out towards the girl, making a grabbing motion with one hand and the girl swiftly handed him the other decoration, which was a crow of some kind with curled feathers. Upon seizing the decoration, the infant froze for a moment, as though stunned, then looked back at the wall, seemingly determined.
That was… just a baby, right? Had Tide done something to the children? Made them smarter, somehow?
The mother offered Catherine the infant and she lifted him up to the wall as well. With surprising deftness and speed, the infant stuck the decoration to the wall, placing the bird just below the rat.
"Thank you so much," the mother said as Catherine returned Calba to her, nodding in gratitude as she turned to leave. "Emperor's blessings."
Catherine blinked again, too stunned to respond as the woman led her daughter away, seemingly to her family nearby, who were helping set up decorations elsewhere. So, the Emperor was still worshipped? Yet, from what spies and informants she had managed to retain since her fall from grace, all indications were that attendance at sermons were no longer mandated. If she hadn't known that Tide was behind it all, she'd have charged the governor and possibly the whole of the local Ecclesiarchy with heretical negligence.
She shook her head, ridding it of the 'what ifs'. She turned, noticing more of the locals approach, some with more decorations and children in hand.
Catherine sighed.
"Why aren't they… reacting to them?" Akora asked, glancing around as several of her fellow neophytes wielded their psychic abilities. Telekinesis was a basic skill for a trained psyker, but even the most adept among them at it were barely able to lift anything heavier than a thin line of rope with flimsy decorations hanging along its length. Only Purilla had any success at lifting anything heavier.
Akora, for her part, was not using her abilities. Purilla had set time aside to train her, of course, but thus far actually wielding psychic powers was postponed in favor of mental training. Purilla had found the young woman wasn't pleased with this, but a private conversation with Tide had apparently made her more agreeable to the idea. What had been said was left between them and Purilla had chosen not to ask. Perhaps she should have. There could have been important information discussed that Purilla ought to know as Akora's teacher.
No, that was unlikely. Tide would have told her if there was.
Right?
"Lady Purilla?" Akora spoke again, breaking the older woman from her mind's drift.
"Apologies, I was… distracted," Purilla said quickly. "I imagine Tide is baffling their minds, sort of like a psychic glamor, just enough to make them ignore anything unusual like psychic abilities or a walking tree."
"But… without psychic powers?" It wasn't Akora who asked this time, but Abbit, the former hive ganger who had paused in his efforts to take a seat nearby, panting as if having just jogged a mile. Perhaps as a means of providing a reminder of their limits, Tide had implemented a simple, but effective system. Each of her students were using puppet bodies that they controlled through Tide. With the use of their psychic abilities came physical exhaustion, similar to intense exercise. As they grew more comfortable with their abilities, he reduced the speed and intensity of that exhaustion, albeit perhaps a bit slower than was strictly necessary, still erring on the side of caution. There had been no incidents yet and both she and Tide were determined to keep it that way.
"That's correct," Purilla said.
"How does that work?" Akora asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I'm not sure," Purilla answered honestly after a moment, pinching her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "His abilities are strange. But if you're curious, I'm sure you could ask him about them." She nodded towards the tree-form Tide had taken, though unnecessarily. No doubt, he already knew of the conversation.
"Maybe…" Akora said, though she already seemed to have moved on from her interest as her eyes were drawn to a nearby group of locals who were fussing over several items. "What are those?"
Purilla took a closer look and was genuinely surprised. "They're instruments," she said, a hint of her astonishment in her voice.
"Instruments for what?" Akora asked. Purilla thought the girl might be having her on, but there was nothing but sincerity on her face and in her voice.
"For music," she answered. Rather than have the face of someone who realized they'd asked a foolish question, however, Akora's eyes widened in glee.
"Really?!?" She asked excitedly, drawing a strange look from both Purilla and Abbit. She half-walked, half-jogged away, swiftly crossing the chamber towards the group of musicians.
"What's so odd about that?" Abbit said, as much to Purilla as to himself. The older psyker just shrugged.
"Perhaps she's just surprised to see any kinds of instruments down here," Purilla suggested. She certainly was, though she supposed she shouldn't be. The instruments looked as though they had been grown rather than carved from wood, so she suspected she knew their origin.
"The gang I used to run with, we…" Abbit started, before falling silent. Purilla glanced at him, but said nothing, simply waiting. After a moment, Abbit resumed. "They used to play music, sometimes."
Purilla smiled. "Did you ever play?"
"No, I… never had the knack for instruments," Abbit said and Purilla's brow arched slightly.
"But you had the knack for something else?" Purilla suggested, Abbit's gaze snapping over to her.
"I thought you couldn't read minds!"
"Not except for special circumstances," Purilla said. "But I didn't need to read your mind, just your words. Observation is an important skill for a psyker." Especially one who worked for an Inquisitor.
Abbit shrugged, trying and failing to come off as nonchalant. "I… sang, a bit. That's all."
Purilla smiled. "Well, perhaps they could use a singer."
Abbit's eyes turned towards the band and she thought she saw a hint of longing in them, but he shook his head. "Nah, I'd just get in their way."
Purilla was about to speak again, but Abbit had already risen before the first word could leave her mouth and he was striding back to rejoin the others busying themselves with decorating.
She took a breath. She supposed she should get back to it as well.
Aliciel grunted with effort as she lifted the large basket of fruits. It was meant to be carried by two, but she and her Sisters were strong enough to each carry one on their own, albeit with some struggle. After taking a moment to prepare herself, she lifted the basket up and planted it firmly onto one of the long tables that had been set out. The decorations were ready and now many more locals had arrived, some having spent the time harvesting fruits for the feast.
This was not her first festival or feast by any means. Parade duty had been a fairly common task for the Order of the Cleansing Rains over the last fifty years. They'd been a common sight, at least in the upper levels, during Sanguinala and other major religious events. This, however, was a bit different. They weren't in uniform and this wasn't a religious event.
Well, not for Aliciel, at least. She glanced at Serrita, who was hefting a similar basket of fruits and looking quite pleased to be present at what was probably going to become an annual holiday for her burgeoning religious cults forming in Deimos and even in other hive cities now that the Sisters operated with almost no restrictions on movement.
Suddenly, Evelayne came up alongside her. "Aliciel, could we speak for a moment?"
It was still somewhat odd to hear her Canoness (former Canoness?) address her so casually, and odder still for her to respond in kind, but Aliciel had endeavored to get over the feeling. The rules had changed. "Of course, what is it?"
"Not here," Evelayne said, nodding towards a corner of the chamber where few people happened to be. Aliciel followed her over and Evelayne turned, glancing about the room as if searching for a specific target. Aliciel followed her gaze and found it resting on Catherine Ellen, who was sitting on a crate, looking out of breath and drinking from a canister.
"What is it?" She asked again, not letting the hint of her concern leak into her voice. Evelayne said nothing for a moment, before turning to Aliciel.
"I'm concerned about Ca-, about the Inquisitor," Evelayne said, coughing as though that might somehow cover up her slip. Aliciel wasn't sure why she'd want to cover it up.
"Do you think she's planning something?" Aliciel asked, eyes narrowing instantly.
"What? No," Evelayne said, shaking her head quickly. "I think she's… Well, she's still devoted to the Imperium. It's been nearly a year, yet she remains as stubborn as ever."
"She just needs time to adjust," Aliciel supplied the same answer she'd been given in response to that same question.
"But what if she never comes around to…" Evelayne gestured about the chamber to the festival being prepared around them.
Aliciel gestured to the Inquisitor, who was speaking to a local with another child holding decorations, looking somewhat pained yet resigned. "Does that look like someone who isn't coming around?"
"But is she like that because she wants to be, or because she doesn't have the opportunity to return to her old ways?" Evelayne asked.
Aliciel shrugged. "Don't forget, it took almost all of us years in the Domain before we were ready to face our old daemons. I imagine it will be no easier for an Inquisitor, even a young one."
Evelayne nodded idly. "I suppose so…"
"Honestly, compared to Kalak, the Rubric Marine, and the Eversor, I'd say Catherine over there is a lot further along on her journey," Aliciel said, chuckling somewhat with self-depreciation. Evelayne's gave a mirthless laugh.
"I suppose so," she said again. She gave Aliciel a smile. "You're doing good, you know that?"
Aliciel shifted her weight slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden praise. "Just… trying to help," she said after a moment. She glanced in curiosity at the older woman. "Why the interest in Catherine anyways? Are you interested in helping her along like I am with those three?"
"Maybe," Evelayne said, her eyes going slightly distant as they returned to the Inquisitor, who was at the front of a long line of children, holding more decorations to cover the upper portions of the chamber's walls, waiting with barely contained excitement as the woman lifted one after another to allow them to place said décor.
Eoa stood in one corner of the large chamber, which was nearly packed full by the sheer number of people that had arrived. Most were on the edges, but those brave or skilled were in the center, dancing around a central stage that had been constructed to hold a band of musicians. She did not have much of a sense of what constituted 'good' music versus 'bad' music, as it seemed to be subjective. However, in her subjective opinion, their music was… fine.
Granted, she had not listened to much music since acquiring her new body. Her crew had often played music, sometimes quietly and sometimes loudly enough to shake one of her decks. She recalled most of the crew that had worked on the Embrace were quite fond of listening to music as they worked, often even when doing so would be a detriment to what could sometimes be a hostile work environment.
Nonetheless, experiencing music with organic audio sensors and an organic brain to help interpret the sounds, it was… still just fine. She liked it more than she had back then. Everyone else seemed to like it as well. That must mean it was good, she supposed.
She strode over to a nearby table, one that had been heaped high with the myriad fruits, vegetables, and even meats that she suspected were one of Tide's additions. Said meats were quite popular for the locals and being constantly resupplied, though by who or from where she hadn't been able to see. Personally, Eoa had found she preferred a chopped up fruit salad.
Technically speaking, her body didn't need to eat. While it did consume energy, said energy was able to be harvested from Flood biomass simply through physical contact, even airborne spores could be utilized in such a manner and were usually sufficient to keep her puppet body operational for an indefinite period of time. However, after a local had offered her a plate of fruits, she had indulged her curiosity and tried them, finding they were shockingly good.
Good enough that this was her ninth plate in under an hour. If one were particularly observational, they'd have noted that her puppet form had grown in height by nearly two inches and a slight increase in overall muscle mass thanks to this, as the biomass was redistributed for practicality. It was possible that several of the locals were particularly observational, as she'd noticed a few of them staring at her with unreadable expressions on their faces that might have been either awe or horror.
Food was… a new experience for her. She knew many of the various foods and ingredients that Tide had attempted to recreate which found their origins in old Earth. While she couldn't vouch for their similarity in either genetics or in taste, she had found she liked oranges quite a bit, disliked pears, was fond of watermelon, hated steak, but quite enjoyed the chicken. She had created a mental list as she'd picked her way through the entire selection of available foods and drinks, ranking their varieties.
"Enjoying the festivities?" Eoa turned around to find Tide had managed to sneak up on her, though whether that was due to her distractedly devouring what she believed was his attempt to recreate corn on the cob. As her mouth was full, and her memory files recalled it was considered rude in most societies to speak under such conditions, she nodded.
Tide might have been smiling at her, despite the fact that his face was a blank wooden mask, and he nodded down at the plate, which included a number of fried chicken drumsticks.
"I see you've found your favorites," he noted. Eoa had finished the corn, setting the picked clean cob down back onto her plate, wiping her mouth before speaking.
"I am testing the varieties of chicken available," she explained. "I have already tried grilled. I expect fried to be of similar quality."
"I'm glad you appreciate my cooking," Tide said, his lilting voice carrying amusement. "I was worried I wouldn't get the taste right."
"I would not know in any case," Eoa replied and Tide shrugged.
"I suppose not," he said, before gesturing to the dancefloor. "Do you not intend to use all that new muscle and height to show off?"
Eoa blinked after finding her face had heated up slightly and another unfamiliar emotion that she registered as embarrassment made her want to cringe. She shook her head, in an act similar to what she had seen others do to 'clear' it, and to respond to Tide's question. "I have no interest in dancing."
"You'd do quite well at it," Tide said. That much could probably be considered fact. Eoa almost unlimited control over every part of this body, including individual muscles. More than that, her recovered files included many dances she had seen performed by her crew of countless varieties.
Still, though, she had no interest in dancing and told as much to Tide again. He nodded, accepting her reaffirmed answer, just as the music lulled as one song ended.
"Do you wish to dance?" Eoa asked and Tide tilted his head back and forth, as if trying to balance something atop it.
"Not particularly," he said. "I prefer listening to the music, to be honest."
In that moment, the music burst back into life, trumpets and drums and violins and a piano flaring with sound that sent a shiver down Eoa's spine for reasons she couldn't quite place.
"Ah, so you prefer this kind of music?" Tide said, with a knowing look that he shouldn't have been able to have with so static a face.
Eoa tried to recall her memory files on music, but they had been relatively sparse to begin with and much of what remained was still corrupted or lost. "What… song is this?"
"This one was dreamt up by the pianist," Tide replied, nodding to the man in question. "He just called it 'Rhapsody'."
"Its… very good," Eoa said. Tide nodded, stroking his chin as if in thought. "What is it?"
"I think I just thought of a good name for the moon in that nearby system."
Passing through whirling forms, rippling cloth, shouts of joy and laughter, Purilla had to take a seat as she felt the myriad of positive emotions crash against her like waves, letting out a long breath as she disconnected, somewhat reluctantly, from the minds of those around her. The party was in full swing and the dance floor had grown to nearly encompass the entire chamber, with tables, still stocked with food, being pushed to the edges along with the few left who had not deigned to dance.
Purilla had, for a short time. A few of her students had as well. However, it was one of her students who had not that had made her stop. Akora sat, alone in a corner, eyes closed, her face a picture of concentration. Not on feeling the emotions of those around her, but on closing her mind to them. A pang of pity had drawn Purilla away from the floor and to the girl, who was denied the chance to join in just because of her power.
She wondered, as she sat next to a silent Akora, if it had been cruel to take her to the festival at all. Even the strongest among the other students was merely an Epsilon and had learned enough to at least shut off his mind from others to prevent any emotional overbalance. Akora was far greater in power and, in truth, a better student than any of them. She had picked up skills that had taken Purilla months to learn in days and weeks.
But her path was a much longer and rockier one as well. Even if they assumed their connection to Tide prevented the worst dangers of the Warp from affecting them, the power of an alpha-grade psyker was immense enough that she could level this whole hive if she wasn't careful. Tide had promised he would keep a close eye on the girl and that was enough for Purilla, but only barely and the concern remained strong.
Purilla reached out to place a hand on the girl's shoulder, but then thought better of it, stopping short.
Tide? Purilla thought and felt his presence rise as though from the depths of her mind.
She is safe. The meditations you taught her keep her so.
Perhaps she shouldn't be here, Purilla suggested. She doubted she needed to communicate her belief that he was taking this situation rather… lightly.
In that moment, Akora's eyes opened and her gaze, distant for a moment before returning to focus, turned towards Purilla. She smiled, suddenly looking slightly out of breath. "Oh, hello miss Purilla. I'm feeling kind of tired, so I'd like to leave, if that's alright."
Purilla blinked, then nodded. "Of course, Akora. Have a good sleep."
"I always do these days," Akora said with a half-joking smile. A moment later, there was a flash of soft, silvery light as the Star Road coalesced around her and she vanished a moment later.
"I imagine she's pining for the comforts of home after spending so much time among the lower classes," Purilla said quietly with a chuckle. Tide was silent and her chuckle died in her throat. "Sorry."
Have you enjoyed the festival?
It was an obvious change of subject, but she wasn't that upset about it and she nodded. "Yes, almost everyone is happy and having a good time. It's a bit much to take in, but… it's a good feeling."
I am glad. I hope these sorts of events become more popular across Monstrum.
"Did you organize this towards that end?"
I did not. They came up with this on their own. Granted, I may have provided some support in the food-area.
Purilla nodded falling silent, but she couldn't deny the curiosity scratching away at her. "Why did you have me bring them?"
Them? Or Akora?
Purilla's jaw worked for a moment. "Both," she said, at last.
The answer is the same. They all deserve more than what they were destined for in life. All of you do.
"There are other ways to share the joys of life with them," Purilla pointed out. "Safer ways."
You underestimate them.
"I've been teaching them for only a month," Purilla said. "They barely know enough to control their own power. Bringing them to a highly emotional event like this…" She trailed off, her students, for a moment, forgotten.
Highly emotional event.
Purilla.
"What if…" Purilla began slowly. "What happens to the emotions of these people? Psychically speaking?"
Psychically speaking, they enter or, I suppose, are already apart of the Warp. I imagine that is the only reason why any of the daemons, other than our hidden watcher, are still around. They feed off those emotions.
"Can you affect that?"
Purilla…
"Let me…" Purilla paused, thinking over her words. "Can you take me to the Domain?"
An instant later, she was there, floating in the cool depths of the ocean.
"The souls of the living reside within them, its only the dead who fully enter the Warp," Purilla said, mostly to herself as she tried to develop the thoughts running rampant in her mind. "But, those who are Altered come here when they die, safe from daemons."
Relatively safe.
"Right," Purilla said, nodding absently. "But the souls of the living Altered, they're still in their bodies. But their connection to you ensures their souls go to you, rather than the Warp. I've seen it, right before we first met. There was… a string, connecting this place to the soul of an Altered I had taken into the Warp to study. The same was true of the victim of that first daemon you slew. We were both able to follow that string to reach the Domain."
Tide remained silent, though she could feel his caution at her line of thought… But also his curiosity.
"Can you show me those strings again?" Purilla asked. A moment later, they were there, silver strings, like strands of the Star Road, and just as unbreakable. Hundreds of billions of strings, all connected to a living soul, a different denizen of Monstrum. They were like the trunks of trees, or the reeds of a lake, too long that she couldn't see the start or the end of them. "Can you reduce this to just the people at the festival?"
Hundreds of billions faded into darkness and only a cluster remained. Purilla floated closer to them, reaching out not just with her psychic abilities, but also with everything she had learned about existing within this place Tide called his Domain.
And she felt them. She felt their emotions, travelling along the strings, the same joy and happiness she had felt while dancing among the people in the Materium. And she felt those emotions travel from the Domain and upwards. And when she turned her head up, she saw where they went.
Above her, a crack in the Domain yawned, a swirling maelstrom of energy, the grinning face of a daemon, a window into the Warp. This was merely a number of representations of the truth, Purilla realized. Tide was not allowing her to peer directly into the Warp from the Domain, as he had previously refused to.
"I wonder if this is why the daemons are so riled up," Purilla thought to herself. "They can still feed on the emotions that are leaking into the Warp through you, but you're catching the souls. Like a sieve. It must be confusing for them."
Its possible that this may be dangerous. It is well that you discovered it.
"Are you able to… plug the leak?"
I do not know.
"Can you alter the path of the emotions?" Purilla suggested and she watched as the strings bent and curved, elongating and shortening, as though pulled and pushed by invisible hands. Yet, the emotions continued upwards, unabated.
It seems I can change the road, but not the destination.
Purilla stroked her chin for a moment, when another idea came to her. Instantly, she felt Tide's caution spike, as he no doubt understood what she wanted.
That's dangerous.
"It would only be a small amount," she argued.
Still dangerous.
"You've shown you can defeat even greater daemons within this realm," Purilla pointed out.
A heavily weakened one.
"We'll never learn if we aren't willing to take risks," Purilla argued.
Some risks are too great.
"You let an alpha-grade psyker attend a party earlier, I don't think you have the right to lecture me about risks," Purilla said, crossing her arms. Tide was silent for a moment.
Very well. But only a small amount.
And like that, Tide produced a small amount of raw Warp energy in front of her. It was less than she had hoped for, not even enough to be equivalent to that which made up a lesser daemon.
Purilla felt a large amount of Tide's presence gather in her vicinity within the Domain, as he turned a great amount of attention to this task. Greater than she had ever felt before, to the point where if he were actively focusing upon her, she felt as though she might be crushed by the pressure. Even just being near felt as though she had been dragged far below the surface of an ocean.
With care and the same level of focus that he might have needed to coordinate an army tens of billions strong, Tide moved the raw Warp power into the path of the strings… and watched as it changed.
It was slow, at first. The emotions colored the colorless, translucent semi-solid material, becoming a ruddy orange and then brightening, like the color of flame. As if in response to that mental comparison, it changed again, this time in composition. Fire licked at its sides, which grew and lengthened and thinned and widened. She saw faces in the flames, one that almost looked like an actor's mask, and this also changed the development.
The flames receded somewhat as structure took shape. It gained limbs of cloth with joints of fire, covered in strange patterns and a myriad of bright colors. The mask that was its face was colored in halves, one white and one red. A hat, like a pair of thick horns, grew out of the back of its reshaping skull, ending in bells, one silver, one gold.
The flaming were changed to a humming, molten liquid, but sparks still remained at its shoes with curved tips as it stepped away from the strings of its own accord, floating towards Purilla as though performing a dancing leap underwater. In an instant, she was yanked back by an invisible force, and she felt Tide's presence surge forward.
"Wait!" She cried out, just as she saw the outline of tendrils powerful enough to rend a greater daemon to nothing encircle the newborn Neverborn. "I don't think its hostile!"
It's a daemon.
"Then tell me what makes up its existence?!?" Purilla demanded. She could see the Neverborn struggling impotently in Tide's grasp. Yet, the tendrils did not squeeze, did not yet rip it back into the base components it was made of.
It… is made up of joy. It seeks to spread that joy, so it can feed upon it.
"And is that bad?" Purilla asked.
It can be. The Dark Prince was wrought by an excess of emotions, joy among them. Joy is a fine emotion, but there is an important reason people are capable of feeling more than just joy.
"But is this… entity, a threat?"
Yes. It's a daemon.
"We should study it," Purilla said. "Can it… Is it intelligent? Can we communicate?"
It does not seem inclined towards talking.
"Perhaps because you currently have it in a stranglehold," Purilla pointed out. Tide, reluctantly, loosened his grip, though his presence remained powerful enough to feel. The Neverborn, now somewhat freed, floated about, each movement like that of a dancer's, as it leapt and spun from place to place, seeming almost curious as it explored the area around it. Then, it whirled around towards Purilla, and bowed.
"Hello," Purilla greeted, uncertainty suddenly gnawing at her. What if Tide was right? What if this was a horrible mistake?
The Neverborn did not say anything. Perhaps it really couldn't speak. Instead, however, it began to dance again. Each time its shoes struck what could be equated to the ground, sparks would leap up from them. It swayed back and forth, similar to how many the dancers had back at the festival, whirling about, sending its odd hat-like horns whirling as well, the jingle of their bells clear and ringing.
Purilla couldn't help herself. She gave a soft chuckle. It was a funny dance. And, she realized, that was the point. The Neverborn desired her to be happy so it could feed off that emotion. The idea was concerning, but…
"Does it get stronger the more emotion it feeds off of?" Purilla asked. Tide was silent for a moment, and she felt his scrutiny grow larger, along with an even greater heightening of his concern.
Yes. It was a very slight amount, but the total amount of Warp energy making it up just increased because you found it amusing.
Purilla's face colored slightly. "Sorry."
I'm going to destroy it now.
"Wait!" Purilla cried out again. "What if… what if we got it to work with us?"
Daemons are not people, Purilla. They are what they are and can never be anything else.
"Then we use it as a tool," Purilla suggested. "Not all Warp-entities are necessarily hostile to life."
They do what they do because they cannot help it.
"This Neverborn desires to bring joy," Purilla said. She suspected that if she lost this argument, she'd never see the raw Warp energy again and any chances of it being useful to Tide would be lost forever. "That's a lot like what you want to do."
I desire for people to experience more than suffering. There is a key difference. If allowed, this daemon would create a world filled by people experiencing nothing but joy. They would do nothing but experience joy and they would starve and die because they would feel no other desires.
"But you can destroy it easily," Purilla said. "With a snap of your fingers or even less effort than that!"
Tide was silent to that, so Purilla pushed on.
"The Warp is the mirror of the Materium," Purilla continued. "You know this."
It is a twisted reflection.
"But still a reflection of us!" Purilla said. "And this daemon is a reflection of the people at that festival, the people that you helped, that were able to become more than what the galaxy decided they could be. Whose to say you couldn't do the same for the Warp?"
Tide remained quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, she felt his reluctance in every word.
Once, long ago, the Warp was not always dominated by Chaos. If what little knowledge of that time I possess is true, then perhaps what you suggest could be done.
Purilla smiled. "You're the one who's always giving out second chances."
She could feel Tide's mind working, arguing with himself and possibly with others as well, discussing, revising, and, finally… relenting.
It can remain. For now. However, I will be watching it closely and it is the only daemon I will permit to exist at this time.
"I understand," Purilla said, nodding. "Thank you, Tide. I think… I think this might the key to helping the whole of the galaxy."
For all our sakes, I hope you are correct.
Catherine watched from her seat on a bench as the festival slowly ended. The band packed up and went home, the leftover food, of which there was an abundance, was taken in sacks or baskets by those who desired it. She had not attended a party in some months, not since she had actually held a role of importance and prestige. Though, this was unlike any party she had attended as an Inquisitor.
By the Throne, what was she doing? She shook her head. This was an illegal event and not only had she done nothing to stop it, she had actively participated. What a failure of an Inquisitor she was.
"Did you have a fun time?"
Catherine's eyes rose to stare up at Evelayne Praxiah.
"No," Catherine lied, but it was clear her skills at deception had waned, because the former canoness showed only an expression of amused disbelief. "I am an Inquisitor. This event only affirmed for me that this world is truly lost."
"Sure, sure," the older woman said as she took a seat on the bench a bit too close to Catherine. Ellen refused to move away, however. "You looked like you were really suffering earlier, with all those kids."
Catherine's face flushed, and she pointedly looked away. "Tide told me to."
"And we both know that's a lie," Praxiah said with a chuckle. Catherine turned around to glare at the woman.
"What do you want, traitor?" Catherine demanded and Praxiah actually winced at the word.
"I wanted to apologize about the last time we spoke, in the cathedral," Praxiah said. "I wasn't expecting you to just run out like that. I'd like to continue the conversation, if you're open to it."
"I am not," Catherine said firmly.
"I see," Praxiah replied after a moment. She nodded, before rising. "Well, if you ever wish to come by the cathedral again, you're welcome to. Maybe we can share a glass of wine over it."
Catherine's jaw worked. "I am not returning to Deimos."
Praxiah turned, genuine surprise on her face. "What?"
"I suppose Tide would eventually share this information with you whether I wished it or not, so I will just tell you," Catherine said, rising as well. "I have been doing nothing but sitting on my laurels in Deimos for nearly an entire year now. No more. Tide is up to something on Monstrum and he may have blinded you to it, but I remain clearsighted with the God-Emperor to support me."
"Catherine…" Praxiah said softly, sounding disappointed.
"Inquisitor Ellen," she hissed in response. "And that is all you may ever call me. I will be staying here and uncovering just what Tide plans to do to the people living here. Blind or not, they are still citizens of the Imperium and I will guide them back to His light."
"It's a harsh light," Praxiah said, but Catherine was already walking away.
Praxiah sighed. Foolish, foolish girl. Catherine would have been a perfect new recruit for the old Order of the Cleansing Rains.
Sorry about the late chapter, its a bit of a long one, so I hope that makes up for it.
She learns!
HA!
Oh you have no idea about this one
Yay! My favourite is back!,
Bar is very low. I hope you know this
Damn gurl
She's right
Tide is supposed to be one about giving another chance like it's fucking candy 😭
Tide with your standard 40k war criminals: Awww, look at da little baby…
Tide with daemons: Hello, welcome to the soul shredder.
- Location
- colombia
Demon making comes from one or a mix of the followong
>raw warp energy
>tethered souls (think crippled soul fragments) that gradually mix and grow with raw warp energy untill it becomes a warp entity
>a seed/pseudo soul made from fragments of another entity (this is whete most chaos daemons come from)
Usually a daemon needs a major event to catalize it into existance (big events = big emotions and narrative impact = more and more meaningful warp energy)
Slaneesh birth seems of the tethered/damaged soul kind with the lasy days of the eldar dominion as its catalyzer
Tide and purilla making a daemon seems to involve using filtered raw warp energy and using the emotions they can harvest from the domain (and the people linked to it) as the catalyzer
I agree with tide thay warp entities are dangerous to play with,they are very much paperclip maximizer in their nature
Even the most reasonable warp entities (eldar gods) are prone to following their narratives to their own detriment
Nonetheless tide can gain knowledge and skill on forging warp entities
But also on unmaking them
This also opens a interesting avenue for the likes of the eldar with ynead
Could tide method of warp entity forging allow for a ynead birth that doesnt involve mass sacrifices?
Also how would tide interact with more sane warp entities,seems he pretty much sees them as overfeed psy computers
>raw warp energy
>tethered souls (think crippled soul fragments) that gradually mix and grow with raw warp energy untill it becomes a warp entity
>a seed/pseudo soul made from fragments of another entity (this is whete most chaos daemons come from)
Usually a daemon needs a major event to catalize it into existance (big events = big emotions and narrative impact = more and more meaningful warp energy)
Slaneesh birth seems of the tethered/damaged soul kind with the lasy days of the eldar dominion as its catalyzer
Tide and purilla making a daemon seems to involve using filtered raw warp energy and using the emotions they can harvest from the domain (and the people linked to it) as the catalyzer
I agree with tide thay warp entities are dangerous to play with,they are very much paperclip maximizer in their nature
Even the most reasonable warp entities (eldar gods) are prone to following their narratives to their own detriment
Nonetheless tide can gain knowledge and skill on forging warp entities
But also on unmaking them
This also opens a interesting avenue for the likes of the eldar with ynead
Could tide method of warp entity forging allow for a ynead birth that doesnt involve mass sacrifices?
Also how would tide interact with more sane warp entities,seems he pretty much sees them as overfeed psy computers
Another good chapter.
Calba better thank Tide that Catherine ain't a psyker, she would've straight up tossed him out a window if she knew who/what he was.
Speaking of her, poor girl needs to just let go, there ain't much she can honestly do at this point either. Any chance she had of containing or even stopping Tide died the moment the Tech-boys started spore bombing the Hives.
Praxiah's worries are starting to have some traction, though she has made good progress, something needs to give still.
And.....WE FINALLY HAVE THE WARP FUCKERY EXPERUMENTS!! A Warp entity of Joy has been made and Tide didn't immediately crush it like a bug, PROGRESS people.
(also, am I the only person lowkey shipping Catherine and Evalyne as of this chapter? I mean come on, an older woman asking to share a bottle of wine is basically like a younger guy asking a girl out for coffee).
Calba better thank Tide that Catherine ain't a psyker, she would've straight up tossed him out a window if she knew who/what he was.
Speaking of her, poor girl needs to just let go, there ain't much she can honestly do at this point either. Any chance she had of containing or even stopping Tide died the moment the Tech-boys started spore bombing the Hives.
Praxiah's worries are starting to have some traction, though she has made good progress, something needs to give still.
And.....WE FINALLY HAVE THE WARP FUCKERY EXPERUMENTS!! A Warp entity of Joy has been made and Tide didn't immediately crush it like a bug, PROGRESS people.
(also, am I the only person lowkey shipping Catherine and Evalyne as of this chapter? I mean come on, an older woman asking to share a bottle of wine is basically like a younger guy asking a girl out for coffee).
Tide better protect Joy from Slaanesh as well.
God making in the vein of the Eldar Gods is likely a more sophisticated version of what just happened but somehow chaining the resulting warp entity to the more manageable psychic warrior race of the Eldar.
I would wager that this was an effort to prevent the warp weapons from going out of control for the Old Ones, basically stabilised and chained Daemons.
Basically kill the Eldar and kill the gods, that's what I'd do if I were making a weaponised psychic species, much the same for the Orkz as well I bet.
In fact, I bet you could find some interesting narrative similarities between the Chaos Gods and rampant hard take off post singularity AI, especially Slaanesh.
I'm not sure how the 'natural' gods worked before the Age of Strife wrecked the Warp forever, if they were ever anything truly different to Daemons in the first place beyond not being strong enough to survive the birth cries of Slaanesh.
For all we know they might have actually been some non-daemonic form of life native to the Warp akin to the Enslavers but engaged in mutualistic behaviour with psychically capable species and are now simply extinct in the 41st millennium.
The only human 'God' we know of is the Emperor who is a deeply strange existence himself even before his internment on the Golden Throne, the shattering of his soul and the relentless force feeding of countless psyker souls and the fanatical focus of the Imperium for 10,000 years.
I'd probably err on the side of caution regardless, there's little to say the Joy daemon won't end up getting worn like a skinsuit by a more aggressive Chaos entity even if it is entirely benign.
I would wager that this was an effort to prevent the warp weapons from going out of control for the Old Ones, basically stabilised and chained Daemons.
Basically kill the Eldar and kill the gods, that's what I'd do if I were making a weaponised psychic species, much the same for the Orkz as well I bet.
In fact, I bet you could find some interesting narrative similarities between the Chaos Gods and rampant hard take off post singularity AI, especially Slaanesh.
I'm not sure how the 'natural' gods worked before the Age of Strife wrecked the Warp forever, if they were ever anything truly different to Daemons in the first place beyond not being strong enough to survive the birth cries of Slaanesh.
For all we know they might have actually been some non-daemonic form of life native to the Warp akin to the Enslavers but engaged in mutualistic behaviour with psychically capable species and are now simply extinct in the 41st millennium.
The only human 'God' we know of is the Emperor who is a deeply strange existence himself even before his internment on the Golden Throne, the shattering of his soul and the relentless force feeding of countless psyker souls and the fanatical focus of the Imperium for 10,000 years.
I'd probably err on the side of caution regardless, there's little to say the Joy daemon won't end up getting worn like a skinsuit by a more aggressive Chaos entity even if it is entirely benign.
Big E was apparently formed by the souls of the remaining Shamans on Earth after their brethren got eaten by daemons getting in the way of reincarnation.
Hence they did the one-way ritual to combine their souls into one: the Man-Emperor of Mankind.
- Location
- colombia
The god emperor (deity] is pretty much the "tattered soul" kind
You have the emperor (psyker human) shaman collective soul as a seed
And around it you have all the emotions and faith feed to it
Combined with emps being a inmortal psyker (meaning his soul and skill grows naturally stronger over time)
You have the emperor (psyker human) shaman collective soul as a seed
And around it you have all the emotions and faith feed to it
Combined with emps being a inmortal psyker (meaning his soul and skill grows naturally stronger over time)
Like I said, a deeply strange existence so we wouldn't be able to take much from him regarding the actual creation of gods rather than creating a Daemon.
There were some fanfics that tried to address it. Like the omake story from Everqueen where Isha helped the remaining shamans how to forge their own God which is Big E for example.
The Emperor has had more than a few different origins, though I do tend to like the Shaman one the most as I feel it makes the most sense for him. Granted, my personal headcanon is a combination of that and the DAoT weapon one, where he would probably enhance his power even further, likely in preparation for the deal he strikes with the Ruinous Powers. But yeah, definitely a non-standard instance of warp-entity creation.
Honestly, how much do you want to bet when Tide finally gets in touch with the Eldar they are going to be tempted to let him work his magic since it will at least keep them from the grasp of Slanesh but ultimately refuse until a few of them are on the verge of death and call for his aid.