The Galaxy is Flood, Not Food

Chapter 80 - The Beginning
Day 364



"I find it odd that our work schedule, which was planned out by you, resulted in the ships all passing their final checks and tests not only at roughly the same time… but a day before a year has passed since your awakening on this world."

Tide's puppet form very pointedly did not look at her, instead continuing to stare straight ahead out the viewport of the fully refurbished Lunar-class cruiser. Like its fellow reconstructed vessels, the ship had been stripped of ornamentation, much of which had been melted down to have their valuable components repurposed. Eoa suspected that had a loyal member of humanity's strange new Imperial Cult seen the golden eagle's head that had dominated the prow of the ship being reduced to wiring for cogitator chips they may have taken offense.

"If there is anything particularly symbolic about this day, I'd prefer to not compound the symbolism with my own arrival," Tide said. He followed up, muttering under his breath, "I half-expect a fleet of necrons or something to arrive tomorrow."

"The odds of that are low, as far as I can tell," Eoa said.

"But never zero," Tide said. "And unlikely things happen all the time. Especially to me, it feels like."

"You're a regular statistical anomaly," Eoa noted with amusement. Tide's leafy crown turned slightly down towards her, matching her emotion.

"That's putting it lightly," he said with a chuckle that was like a peal of thunder. His form for this event was not the tree form he had seen him often adopt, but one that she was less familiar with but had seen before. A xenos of some kind, with a long neck, digitigrade legs that ended in hooves, four-fingered hands with two thumbs apiece, and a mouth that defied human speech yet was able to produce it anyways between mandible like lips. He was dressed in a pure white armor with light blue lines of energy. It was odd seeing him wearing armor, let alone having a weapon, which was a plasma energy blade designed to fit into the unusual hand of the alien.

"What is your purpose for this form?" She asked after taking a moment to study it. It was the same as several others that worked on the bridge and across the ship, though not the only alien.

"For the moment, the wider Imperium is unaware of my presence on Monstrum or the changes it has undergone," Tide said, turning away from the window to take a seat on a chair sculpted to fit the alien biology. Said seat had replaced the command throne, which was no longer needed. Technically speaking, the entire crew was unneeded, at least the ones that walked on two legs, since Tide had effectively replaced a large portion of the internal systems of each vessel with Flood bioforms, granting him control over the vessel like it was an extension of himself, not unlike how a ship AI would have functioned. "This-" he continued, gesturing first at his own body and then across the bridge to crewmen who were performing non-tasks to maintain the illusion of busywork. "-is all just for show. If Monstrum is to be safe, if any world we visit is to be safe, we must give all appearances as being inhuman and, most importantly of all, insignificant. Xenos who have taken control of wrecked human vessels implies they lack the technology to produce anything better. Multiple species of xenos working together further implies weakness, at least to the Imperium, as cooperation is only done in direst need."

"When, in fact, our technology is already more advanced than what is widely available," Eoa said.

"Perhaps," Tide said, his tone taking on a note of warning. "But the Imperium is vast and we lack the industry to build ships of our own at this time. We are weak and we must continue appear as such to ensure we are looked over as a threat. Without a homeworld for their hunters to burn, without any known territory they may attack, we may act freely."

"Until it is too late for them to stop us," Eoa said. When Tide gave her an inscrutable look, she tilted her head. "What?"

"Its nothing, just… Well, I suppose we are technically the villains from the Imperium's viewpoint," Tide said, mostly to himself. "Never mind, it's not important."

"Do you expect to encounter Imperials at the destination worlds?" Eoa asked, curious.

"We're jumping into a Warp storm," Tide said with a shrug. "I half-expect for our vessels to turn into screaming mouths and eyes. While each ship's journey is a short one, I am not looking forward to this. We may reach worlds that are indeed uninhabited, or we may travel back in time or forward in time, or perhaps we will end up on the other side of the galaxy."

Eoa's head tilted. "The likelihood of such events, even with a Warp Storm, are slim."

"But never zero, is my point," Tide sighed. "I look forward to the day when slipspace is our primary means of transport."

"There is always the choice to wait for the technology's development," Eoa pointed out, but Tide simply shook his head.

"Each day that goes by is another our enemies have to move against us," Tide stated firmly. "Expansion is key to our survival."

Eoa's ears perked up slightly as she heard the engines of the cruiser ignite, sending a gently rumble throughout the ship as they accelerated forward through the void. Of the four functional vessels that made up Tide's small fleet, three were now headed outwards, to places only semi-known.

The smallest of the group was the Cobra-class destroyer, which Tide had renamed the Wish of Autumn. Next was the Sword-class frigate, dubbed the Long Night of Reverie. Finally, only second in power to the Embrace of Audacity itself was the Lunar-class cruiser they stood within, the Dream's Approach. While they lacked any particularly advanced stealth technology, they did still have the ability to broadcast as Imperial-loyal vessels, including a number of false identities they could assume if needed. Such a thing as a common tactic of pirates, at least according to Tide who presumably knew this era better than she did.

"In that case, I will be taking my leave," Eoa said and Tide nodded. Worm-like aliens stepped onto the bridge or wriggled and fell out of service ducts, already melting into one another to form a larger pod. Eoa had little issue with Neural Transit, as she could simply shut off her connection to the puppet to prevent herself from witnessing external realities.

"I'll let you know how things go," Tide said, waving a farewell to her. He wasn't actually leaving, of course and she'd see him as soon as she reached the surface. Nonetheless, she waved as well.

"Safe voyage, captain," Eoa said, snapping off a salute she had seen her crew perform countless times. She felt a pang of longing but ignored it. Tide returned the gesture. "Good luck."

"I suspect I will need it."



Anvathan knelt within the confined space, the hidden room behind a false wall in the governor's meeting room, the only light emitted from the ruby-topped staff he clutched tightly to himself. However, while the body was present, the mind that puppeteered that body was in the room with the 'governor', waiting for a colonel of Malum's defense forces to arrive. His mind filled the room, sensing everything within it. From the body double of Selvik himself, and the mix of paranoia, fear, and anxiety that such individuals almost always had as their baseline emotional states, to the armchair the double rested within, to the hairline cracks slowly forming in the plastered walls, too small to be seen by sight.

Anvathan was unsure if this meeting was a good idea and his uncertainty colored his mind's presence. That its source had likely been from the unknown visitor to the governor's mind that he'd sensed had him anxious. At the very least, he'd convinced the governor to use a double, given the danger Agrippa might pose. Selvik had mocked him for the precaution, decried Anvathan's power as being too little to protect him, and ultimately agreed.

Of those of the Monstrum family he had advised over the centuries he'd been stuck on this world, Selvik was likely his least favorite, if only because of the lack of respect the man held for psychic abilities. While hatred was nothing new for Anvathan, only fools discounted the Warp and those who could harness its power. Fortunately for the governor, Anvathan was there, guiding him where he ought to go even in ways Selvik was unaware of.

Anvathan reached out with his will beyond the room's walls, brushing up against the surface of the minds of the servants and guards that waited outside. He felt from them recognition, not of his psychic touch as he was too subtle for their small minds to recognize his presence, but of someone approaching.

Anvathan sensed the echos around Marcus Agrippa's approach. The vibrations within the floor that followed every step, the emotions and thoughts his arrival elicited in the servants, the wariness that came over the guards. However, when Anvathan tried to reach out towards the mind of the man himself, he sensed… nothing.

The man wasn't one of the cursed blank-souls, for trying to touch one of their minds would have been painful, even and especially for someone as powerful as Anvathan. This was something different, it was like trying to sense the mind and will of a rock or a lake. There was simply… nothing there. Nothing that could be perceived. But this was no rock and there was no physical sign of the man being anything other than a regular human.

Anxiety again gnawed at Anvathan, but he fell deeper into his meditations, acknowledging and then releasing the emotions, letting them fade like background noise. His mind, sharpened once more, returned to the task at hand, studying Agrippa as he was scanned through one final security check.

Was this some kind of psychic shielding? If it was, it was like nothing Anvathan had ever encountered before. Certainly, it was nothing a mere colonel of a random hive city should have. But then, nothing about Malum had made sense as of late. From the size of its military forces to their skill in battle to the speed of their conquests… And Agrippa was at the center of it all.

Was he also the source of the strangeness with the Sisters of Battle? They had worked together during the southern campaigns. Perhaps, or perhaps there was something greater at work here, like the Warp Rift that had opened near the southern pole of Monstrum, which he had thought would certainly be their doom, yet had closed as suddenly as it had opened without explanation or warning.

The security check took around ten minutes, during which Anvathan could still not penetrate whatever defenses the colonel had raised around his mind. Anvathan had not often been vexed in his life. With his abilities, he'd always felt a certain degree of certainty in everything he did. However, as of late, that certainty had been chipped away, bit by bit, especially from the presence of the servants of She-Who-Thirsts and the others of Chaos. Selvik had noticed his imbalance, perhaps that was why their relationship had suffered so much as of late. Arrogant fool the governor might have been, Anvathan still remembered when the man had been a boy, filled with strange ideas of the world and lacking the noble arrogance that would be ingrained in him before he reached adulthood.

It was almost enough to make him nostalgic.

He was getting distracted again. Curse this foolish old body.

"Colonel Agrippa," Selvik's double said, his voice a near-perfect mimicry. Only someone who had known Selvik for a long time and was exceptionally observant would be able to recognize the subtle differences. Anvathan was able to, even through the slightly synthesized filter that fed the sounds of the meeting room into his hidden compartment. "Please, come in, take a seat."

Too polite, Anvathan thought to himself. He considered reaching out and stoking the double's arrogance to try and correct the issue but decided against it. Such manipulations could easily backfire and would distract him from the task of trying to penetrate Agrippa's psychic shields. He turned his focus fully onto the man himself, trying to find even a hint of the mind behind the body.

"Thank you, governor," Agrippa said as he crossed the room and took a seat on one of the armchairs. He did not sound nervous at all, unlike what one might expect from a lowly colonel summoned before the highest official on the planet, if one didn't count that failure of an Inquisitor.

"Pour us a drink, will you?" The double asked, gesturing to the small table with goblets and a decanter filled with wine. It was hardly a subtle power move, a reminder that even alone, the governor was still the supreme authority on this world. Anvathan had hoped to study the emotional reaction Agrippa would have to it, but even that was denied him.

Agrippa poured them both drinks, handing one to the double, who swirled it in his hand almost idly.

"A rare vintage, this," the double said. "Imported from Uva, an agriworld renowned throughout the ghoul stars for its high-quality brews. This one is from a particularly good year, from the fortieth millennia."

"I am surprised you would share such a rare drink with me," Agrippa said. Anvathan's eyes narrowed. Too rude, he thought. His emotional state aside, the man had just been given one of the finest drinks in the Ghoul Stars. He should have shown gratitude, at the very least. The double seemed caught off-guard by the completely nonchalant response, taking a moment to reply.

"I am a generous man, colonel," the double said, opting to brush aside the disrespect. "Now, shall we get down to business?"

"Very well," Agrippa said. "Though I don't think we'll need you to be here for it."

And with that, Anvathan sensed the double's mind suddenly quiet in the same way that a mind did when it fell asleep. There was no indicator of psychic interference, or even what he would expect from poisons or sleeping drugs. Impossibly, the double had simply… fallen asleep, seemingly of his own accord.

"You can come out now, if you'd like," Agrippa said, rising from his seat and striding towards the wall. Anvathan didn't move. There was no way he knew about…

A knock on the false wall panel that led into the hidden compartment Anvathan hid within cut off his thoughts.

"Anvathan," Agrippa said, almost in a sing-song voice. "You wanted to know what's going on, didn't you?"

With the tiniest hints of telekinetic power, Anvathan flicked a hidden mechanism and the false wall slid open. He was already standing when it revealed Agrippa, standing there, holding both wine glasses. The double was gone and Anvathan realized belatedly that he couldn't sense the man anymore. If he was dead or simply elsewhere, he couldn't say.

Anvathan did not move from the hidden compartment, clutching his staff tightly. Agrippa smiled and stepped back over to the armchair, returning to his chosen seat, leaving the governor's spot open for Anvathan. He gestured to it, setting the spare wine glass down on the small table between them. Idly, Agrippa sipped the wine, giving it a considerate look.

"You know, I was never one for alcohol," Agrippa said, as though he were admitting some small shame. "But I know quite a few people who I think would enjoy this. I'll have to see if we can recreate it."

Anvathan, cautiously, stepped out of the compartment, which sealed shut behind him with a soft click, taking a few steps closer to the armchair but refusing to sit down or touch the wine glass.

"Where is the governor?" Anvathan demanded.

"Still in his bunker, where you last saw him," Agrippa replied and Anvathan went still. "The double is currently sleeping soundly in his bedroom. He'll wake in about an hour."

"Who are you?" Anvathan asked. Agrippa smiled up at him.

"I am colonel Marcus Agrippa, commander of the Malum Defense Forces," Agrippa replied.

"No, you are not," Anvathan said. "There is no Agrippa. You appeared from nowhere less than a year ago and yet somehow became a colonel immediately."

"In the same way that much of the Malum Defense Forces appeared from nowhere, right?" Agrippa said. Anvathan paused at the casual admission. "And in the same way that the Malum Administratum suddenly has an excess of virtually every resource and a massive reduction in deaths, disease, and all that."

Anvathan's eyes narrowed. "Their documentation claims nothing of the sort."

"Well, of course not," Agrippa said. "If they admitted they had so much, the governor would get suspicious. Well, more suspicious. I doubt I'm helping matters."

"Who are you?" Anvathan demanded again.

"I told you," Agrippa replied.

"Marcus Agrippa is not real," Anvathan said firmly. Agrippa smiled.

"Oh, he's real," Agrippa said. "At least, he's as real as Anvathan, hidden adviser to dear old Selvik."

Terror seized Anvathan's soul and his eyes glowed with power. In an instant, Agrippa was gone, the body contorting in upon itself with the horrid squelching of flesh and crackle of snapping bones. The wine glass dropped to the ground and shattered across the floor, spilling its contents that stained the soft carpet, ruining it forever. All that was left of the man was a bleeding pile of meat.

Anvathan turned towards the door, already preparing for the guards to come rushing in. He would have to remove their memories of this, as his presence could be known to no one save the governor and his family.

"Was that really necessary?"

Anvathan whipped around, ruby-topped staff held out before him as though to block a physical attack, but none came. Agrippa was simply standing there, leaning against the back wall. Yet, the pile of meat behind him said that was impossible.

"And here I thought we were going to have a civil conversation," Agrippa said. The guards hadn't rushed in, despite the noise that should have greatly concerned them. Carefully, keeping his guard up and eyes on the man-that-was-not-a-man before him, Anvathan reached out and searched for them.

They were missing. As were the servants that should have been waiting outside. He stretched out farther and farther with his power, but the nearest mind he could sense was hundreds of meters away, as though there were some bubble repelling them from being nearby, centered on him.

"I have to say, that's a neat trick," Agrippa said, gesturing with his chin over to the pile of meat. "You're stronger than you let on."

"What are you?" Anvathan finally asked. Agrippa smiled, amused.

"Just someone with a vested interest in this planet," Agrippa said. "Well, more its people than the rock they live on."

"What have you done?" Anvathan demanded. Agrippa tilted his head.

"You'll have to be more specific," Agrippa said. "I've done quite a lot."

"You're a psyker," Anvathan said.

"Getting colder," Agrippa replied. When Anvathan made no expression, he added, "It means you're further from the truth."

Anvathan eased back from the man. He had been strengthening his own psychic shields since the moment he'd failed to penetrate Agrippa's mind, yet now he brought more of his focus to the task. "Neverborn."

"Frighteningly cold," Agrippa said, tilting his head. "You're not going to guess correctly in any case. Well, maybe you will. Unlike every other organic being on this planet, I can't read your mind."

Impossible.

"Impossible," Anvathan said, even as he began to gather psychic power to him. Teleportation was far too dangerous for him, even in the face of an unknown like this entity. However, there were other ways of fleeing from this situation and he could only hope that the ritual would affect the mind behind the being before him. He could flee to the Cage. Even if this thing found him, the defenses there could hold off even an army for days and give him time to plan. "Not even the greatest of humanity's psykers could accomplish such a task."

"I assume we're not including the Emperor in that ranking," Agrippa said, as much to himself as to Anvathan. "Though, as I said, I'm not a psyker."

"What do you want?"

"The same thing as most people, I'd imagine," Agrippa said. "Safety, security, freedom, that sort of thing. Although, that is a bit of a radical concept for this galaxy, I know."

"For this galaxy," Anvathan repeated, eyes narrowing. He had gathered the necessary power and now began to weave it to his will, without any physical sign of his straining mind. "You're from elsewhere."

Agrippa's smile was small and he spoke quietly. "Warmer."

"And these things that you seek… they require you to tear down this world's government?"

"I care very little about this world's government," Agrippa replied with a shrug. "It can create whatever laws it wishes or burn down or change. The people are all I care about."

"The… people?" The various implications of that statement ran through his mind, different meanings coming to the forefront. The weave was nearly complete. "Why?"

"I want to help them," Agrippa shrugged. "And I want them to help each other. Take Akora for example."

It was only through centuries of experience and an iron will that Anvathan's sudden loss of focus on the temporal weave he'd intended to entrap Agrippa did not result in disaster. Anvathan stumbled physically as well, like a puppet that had been dropped and then snatched up.

"H-how…?"

"Do I know about her?" Agrippa asked, smiling as if amused, but the feeling didn't reach his eyes. "Simple. We talked."

That's impossible, Anvathan thought, horror plain on his face. Agrippa tilted his head, the smile falling away.

"If you'd like to know more, you could always ask," Agrippa said. "However, I think it's time this conversation changed locales. It's time for me to question… and you to answer."

In an instant, Anvathan was on guard again, raising his staff up in preparation for an attack. His awareness expanded beyond the limited senses of his physical body, filling the room again. Even if this entity was able to teleport beings into it, they would not catch him by surprise. That Agrippa had made no move to attack was not reassuring in the slightest.

"You may want to close your eyes for this next part," Agrippa said, still seated in his chair. "The ride can be… bumpy."

Anvathan prepared for an attack, but nothing he could have done would have prepared him for what happened next. He felt the walls shudder, saw cracks run down them as though some great weight was pressing in on them, and watched as the panel to the hidden compartment fall apart, revealing a solid mass of flesh on the other side, smelling of decaying vegetation, yet wriggling like flesh.

Its surrounded us, Anvathan realized, too late to bring his power to bear on the new target. In an instant, it was like the world had been pulled out from under him. He was falling, yet still standing in the room. He was being dragged away from something that he'd never understood he'd been tethered to. There was a feeling akin to weightlessness, yet different in ways his mind simply failed to comprehend.

And then he was floating, adrift in darkness. And he heard a voice rise up from all around him.

Well, hello there.



In the sky of Monstrum, there was only darkness. Clouds that stretched across the sky only to give way to harsh light that burned all it touched. Yet, just behind the endless night, beyond the light that scorched retinas and melted flesh as easily as steel, a trio of burning shapes, like comet trails, shrank away in the distance. They moved out in different directions, each headed towards a different destination.

On the edges of the system, they slowed and halted as engines of a different sort powered on. One-by-one, starting with the smallest and ending with the largest, they slipped into a realm of nightmares personified, braving the storms that roiled within, daring any daemon foolish enough to come and try.

And, in that realm where horrors and monsters beyond imagination dwelled, something else stirred. Cloaked in death, it watched as these vessels passed through its realm, watched as sly and murderous things older than man slinked towards them, eager to rip apart the interlopers whether there were souls aboard to harvest or not. And, with an effort of will, those would-be monsters and half-formed murderers burned away, like tiny candles consuming themselves, leaving the ships untouched and the entity within unaware.

And the thing cloaked in death watched and it waited. Caution had allowed it to survive all these endless ages in the Warp, caution and fear. But now, something else joined those feelings, something old, something forgotten, but something unmistakably familiar.

Hope.



The End of Year One

 
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