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The Lost Primarch Quest
- Thread starter Daemon Hunter
- Start date
[] 1 research year applied to Machine Spirit Understanding - Master
[] 1 research year applied to Teleportarium Range Upgrade – Grandmaster (0/1) (will finish it) - I'd prefer to go for the outcome slightly improved option, but it doesn't look like the plan to do any research is going to happen, and this way at least it gets done.
JustinTim3
Lost soul of Ashes
- Location
- iowa
[X] Plan talking to our brothers and Father
Caught up on the discussion and I have to agree with meeting Alpharius and Leman. (I confess tobeing a fan of the wolves and having owned their miniatures before)
It would be great to read about Kesar meeting with him and sharing a strong drink.
[X] Plan talking to our brothers and Father
It would be great to read about Kesar meeting with him and sharing a strong drink.
[X] Plan talking to our brothers and Father
- Location
- Elsewhere
Alright, I'm going to call the vote here. Looks like you're in for interesting times.
Bring it on!😈
- Location
- USA
As in normal interesting times or the old Chinese curse variant?
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Plan talking to our brothers and Father
- Location
- Bronx new york
Voting is over
The Emperor of Mankind and the Fate of the Imperium.
TinyGladiator
Just another SVer
- Location
- I move alot.
Hiya! Decided to make an omake on the Emperor, after realising that the current situation might actually have some opportunity for him.
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The Emperor of Mankind and the Fate of the Imperium.
Your name is…
You have been many things across the span of your life.
You have been a Guardian to humanity across your many long years, including now.
You have been an Advisor to kings and leaders, when you weren't a rival or assassin to end their foul dominions.
You have been a Guide to the lost and powerful, such as teaching those with the ability to harness and channel the Immaterium that could live without succumbing to its madness.
You have been a Warrior, Champion, General, Commander and Warmaster across many conflicts great and small. The epithets you have attained through the crucible of battle are innumerable and myriad by every art of conflict, from the knife wielded in the shadows to the arrow of a bow to the armies that followed your orders to the immense psychic capabilities you used to bend the essence of realities.
You have seen and done things that few beings across the whole galaxy have experienced. You have killed planets and the foes that were upon them single-handedly, snuffed out stars and shattered fleets in the void. You have brought death and destruction to pantheons of deities, ground their domains and the aspects of their souls into the building blocks that helped forge your current designs.
You have cut down and chained a dragon worthy of the fell title of 'god' not out of majesty or psychic dominion, for it was a being outside of the Warp, but of pure might and impossible power within reality. For that you have been known to history and myth as the Dragonslayer. Though it was just a great shard, it was proof that even the greatest foes could fall against you and your people.
Your names are many and unneeded, for you are the Emperor, the Master of Mankind, Ruler of the Imperium and by extension most of humanity, Conqueror of the Galaxy and Suzerain of half a million worlds.
For many eras, mankind has endured without your direct guidance and mostly minimal protection. From stone knives and bear skins to glass skyscrapers and world-wide digital networks to star-ships and the use of other dimensions. Triumph after triumph, the vast horizons of knowledge continuously growing smaller under the scientific achievements that cascaded into greater heights.
It was far from perfection, all too far from it looking back, but at the time it hadn't needed to be such a thing. It was a time of humanity, expressed to heights that were unimaginable back at the start. Planets were terraformed into paradises, stars were harvested or contained to fuel it, legions of iron who could fight back against almost anything that was against the path of their creators.
The nature of souls, of the Warp, of life itself were slowly being unravelled. The greatest mysteries to be answered, catalogued and turned into another stepping stone in the history books. Humanity's ascendence was within view, no longer within the imaginarium of a dreamer's distant fantasy.
The very fabric of reality and the aether could have been turned into a tool. The Magnum Opus of humanity, the omnipotent sea, the masterpiece wrought out by the principal figureheads of those descended from the primitive beginnings on a world known as Earth.
In the flames of war, the Cybernetic Revolt, this era met its end and reached the Old Night. The boiling froth between realms came form and smothered the cries that echoed across the stars. The roads were blocked and there were no other paths for people to take, as the throat of civilization was torn out.
In many planets, it was a luxury to have water and a daily meal. In some sectors of space, monsters of every type preyed upon those who knew nothing more than misery and death. In your homeworld, in the cradle where homo sapiens had arisen, the oceans and forests and cities and cultures had all died.
Terra became a shambling corpse that died by starvation, that twisted itself because it couldn't function without its towering supports or roads across the galaxy or its metal-minded servants. It had happened so fast. It burned until it was full of deserts, wastelands and mad-made hells. Every work of art, used as fuel or turned into a weapon. Every home and building, turned into rubble or a fortress. Every single person, a slave or destroyer or tyrant.
It was unrecognisable, that part had struck you the most. It wasn't even like the distant past of tribes, growing empires and conquest. It was a melting pot of insanity than culture, beliefs based around bloodshed and ruin. Wars for the sake of scraps, that they knew were scraps, and there was no other answer but to kill another man for those pitiful crumbs.
There was no growth, no future, no change for the better. It was nothing but spiralling destruction. You had to rise up out of the shadows and take charge against the petty rulers and horrors that infested your home.
In the grim darkness that shrouded the destiny of the stars, heralding the storms of ruin that would lead to destruction and madness, you rose up to carve a new path for mankind. A light that would usher a new dawn, to shelter and embolden the crushed spirit of your people, to fight back and stand in victory over everything in existence.
In the end, you were exceptionally good at taking lives and slaying monsters.
You began as a king of ashes and savages, of a time so far removed from the past that the only reason it was remembered at all was due to how far the gigantic shadows of the previous eras had been cast with the ruins and surviving remnants. Millenia of cruelty, suffering, desperation and pointlessly destroyed lives.
You can't even spend a day in mourning for the death of humanity's hope or the innumerable losses in progress, because to even dwell on it just invites further misfortune. You cannot be who you were. You have to be Him. The Living Monument of a Golden Age. The Sovereign of Light. The One True Saviour.
You had to be the Emperor of Mankind, the Overlord of the Imperium, because there was nothing else you could think to do. Nothing was above your mission to save your people. There was no cause that mattered more than survival.
Through your power did you see the apocalypse that would occur, the psychic flames that would ignite every planet as every man, woman and child goes through a malign transcendence that is as unstable as a collapsing star.
The Fall of Humanity could not come to pass. The Psychic Awakening had to be contained. The Warp could not be allowed to overtake the Materium.
You would not let the galaxy burn.
There were no barriers for what you would be willing to do. Things you had previous made forbidden were almost all unleashed, no longer bound against the crises you were against. Some things were still kept locked or hidden or only as an idea, until you faced something that would warrant the unleashing of nightmares or acts too foul to be done without great reason.
One course of action, one nightmare darker than most… you needed to do it. There was no other way. Before even Terra's reclamation, before the rise of the twisted berserkers known as the Thunder Warriors and the carnage they'd bring…
You couldn't bring forth your vision alone. You needed champions strong enough to stand victorious over any enemy. You needed leaders worthy of armies that could conquer the stars. You needed tools that could forge the empire you needed to hold humanity in place for your true plans.
The Primarchs.
There was only one way you could have attained the knowledge required to create what you needed.
To Chaos, you were given the title of Anathema. One of your oldest and most powerful epithets. At the time, you hated them and knew them more than anyone else of humanity. You knew what power they held, what secrets they so intimately knew within their cores.
On the world of Molech, you did something you never thought that you would have to do. You met with the vast hurricanes of corrupted power, a golden flame amidst a storm that howled and struck and tried to kill you as they spoke in a twisted parody of cordial tradition.
Even for all your own power, skill and experience… it was no easy matter to meet with the Chaos Gods.
So you spoke of your plan, your designs, your intentions. You declared your authority over humanity and its fate. Within the Sea of Souls did you crown yourself as the Emperor of Mankind. The Master of the Imperium. The Unifier of Terra.
You did not ask or demand, threaten or promise. You didn't need to speak of price or worth. You did not beg or forge a contract.
It was known what you wanted, and you knew the costs like you knew the weight of every burden that would arise.
You were the Anathema and thus they resisted and called for your death. Parts of them reached forward to try to snuff out your light. But you felt no fear, this wasn't the first time you stole fire from the gods.
They held their swords from you, pulled back their claws, doused their raging infernos. They considered you seriously, in a silence that lasted for but a moment and yet an eternity. In this divine council, they followed the old rituals of madness.
They knew exactly what would happen if mankind was allowed to prosper again, the fate that would unfold whether your failed or succeeded in making a new era of prosperity. Far worse than what had brought the Prince of Pleasure into existence, it would become the quintessence of ruin for all.
That constant hunger for more in their endless games, that desire for destruction and madness across all reality, had been what truly convinced them to grant you that knowledge. In one breath did they cry out in joy and scream in rage, calling you a thief and a fool and king and beggar all at once. In that breath were the secrets you sought, to make the galaxy yours.
They labelled you a god, the word echoing as you found your path back to Terra. You did not heed their voices. You focused on the Unification of your people. Nothing was more important now, the course had begun and you couldn't turn away now.
You waged war against those who would not join your rule, laid the foundations for a galactic empire, recovered what technology and lost knowledge that you could, and hunted for those with the skill or capability you needed. Tearing down false idols or those who followed the ruin of Chaos, the monsters put to the sword or offered a role within your growing Imperium.
The Thunder Warriors were your hammer, thousands of the berserkers able to demolish hundreds of their foes no matter the strength of their enemies. Through the fear of their reputation did some warlords come to your side, and those that did not learnt their mistakes with ash and the rage of juggernauts.
They were a flawed creation, hasty work for a hasty role. To perfect them would take far more time then you could afford to waste and effort that was best spent elsewhere, between the Custodians that you hand-crafted and the Primarchs that would one day be completed in time for expansion beyond your homeworld.
Malcador the Sigillite, your herald and advisor, a better companion you couldn't have found. A devastating master of psychic powers in all ways, with an even greater capability for ensuring that the empire you forged would flourish. The lord of your hidden knives, your public-speakers, your clerks and your enforcers. Without the work of your Sigillite, so much more would have been needed.
The true prize of your conquest took far longer to develop, your masterwork and your children. For centuries did you work on genetic design of the Primarchs, incorporating all biological technology and scraps of gene-lore from those who refined the creation and use of such vat-grown warriors over millennia.
From that same lore did you envision legions of gene-enhanced soldiers. Ones that would not falter against any foe, in armour and weaponry beyond what most humans could dream of, with minds brought up to utilise the finest strategies.
The source of al this power laid deeper within. Carefully cut from the core of your being, souls constructed and channelled with enough strength to rival the fury of a supernova, bonded into the finest flesh you could grant them. They slowly grew within their incubation tanks, appearing similar to actual newborns to the mundane eye.
How strange it felt to have sons in a time like this.
But the Ruinous Powers knew what you intended, having an equal lack of trust as you held for them and the primal cunning that existed in all beasts. Their agreement was a poisoned chalice and they had chosen the time to strike, at the perfect target.
In one fell swoop, shaking the Sea of Souls with their actions, they had stolen your sons and scattered them across the galaxy.
Your initial designs threatened to burn into nothing but cinders. Biological samples managed to be saved, allowing the Astartes Legions to be formed. The whole biotechnical facility had been destroyed, the earth and stone tainted by the presence of its attackers. How what occurred was even done had been clouded from your sight, as was where your Primarchs had gone.
You knew that they were still alive, that they had to be alive, but in that instant of loss you would have to change the campaign that would be known as the Great Crusade.
Compromise after compromise had to be enacted. The Astartes were made with lesser leaders, forming their own cultures of war and general idiosyncrasies. The Selenar had their secrets and laboratories raided, to further enhance your new warriors amd do your best to ensure that the gene-seed would remain stable enough until your sons were recovered. The Treaty with Mars had been enacted as you were crowned the avatar of a god, as countless souls began to pray to you as the Omnissiah.
It would all be worth it, at the end it would finally come together to what you truly wished, but that didn't mean that it was good. If you had another way, if you had a little more time, if things had just gone slightly differently…
There was no use dwelling on the past or what could have been. What was done was done, the countless dead have no use for empty platitudes.
Time passed in destruction, salvation, expansion and the slow rediscovery of your lost creations.
Nearly half a million planets were brought into the Imperium of Man, both those that had lost branches of humanity lost within the Old Night or the remains of those who could not as well as the panoply of enemies that your vast armies had brought low. Many worlds were turned to ash, many more were developed to feed the engine that was your vast domain.
Technology and riches have accumulated beyond the dreams of the ruined spectre of Terra, your homeworld restored into a shining gem. The Imperial Palace and the Golden Throne within grew, the centrepiece to your ultimate ideas. Trade and tithes flowing into the birthplace of mankind, moulded in the forges of Mars and the shipyards of Saturn and Jupiter.
Where once your Astartes numbered in the thousands, they surpassed a million souls who fought under the leadership of your Primarchs. The Solar Auxilia marched as did the Imperial Army as a whole, single regiments dwarfing the entire armies of some planets. All guided by your Astronomican, the light that allowed the Imperium to function at all.
The Rangda have been wiped out, the Void Dragon able to be imprisoned once more after its apocalyptic unleashing, with only remnants of the Slaugth surviving. Ork empires were laid to waste, the Greenskins burned and butchered when they were encountered. Enslavers, Khrave, Nephilim, Psybrids, Aeldari and the Hellesponte were slain or pushed back to the dark pits from which they came from.
As for Chaos…
You have enacted a ritual of colossal proportions, sealed a faultline of reality known as the Maelstrom that the War in Heaven had cracked open and left to fester for aeons. All the treasures, resources, technology and psychic knowledge laid within can be obtained. It was one of the greatest, critical wars that
With all that was now made available, the success of your Webway Project was clearer than ever before. Bringing not perfection or godhood to mankind, but safety from its enemies and a road towards an ascendance beyond even your own capability or the self-proclaimed omnipotence of the Archdaemons.
Weakened far more than expected in recent years, the Ruinous Powers have only tasted failure against you and your sons. Their tangles plans cut or collapsed, their servants killed or forced to flee. Grand efforts ending up against them, as they did with their use of your failure that was Lorgar Aurelian.
Then after this grand victory over the Maelstrom, as the remnants of the once vast rift began to be delved into and colonised, something unexpected had occurred.
No, 'unexpected' had the wrong connotations. It was just something that happened sooner than you had wished for. You had tasted hope too many times to be surprised by the bitterness, as it indeed was the domain of one of your most hated foes.
Your Imperium is falling.
Worlds are rising up in rebellion, especially in what had become widely known as the Desolation of Ultima as the domain under Angron's slaughter has finally broken. The costs that have kept growing, to the point you had to personally oversee the management over the dockyards of Mars, and now are reaching peak. Political situations cascading, exploding over
The morale and loyalty over countless Imperial Army regiments is in record lows, revolutionaries and dissidents rising up. Or there would be a corruption, the mundane variety that has lived with mankind since its inception, and there would be theft, raiding, dereliction of duty and little more than piracy. The falsehoods about your promises, the perfection of your Imperial Truth, are becoming all too clear all too soon.
So many pointlessly dead or lives wasted in other ways, entire planets falling in just the confusion that arises from such circumstances.
Then there is what your sons have been doing.
Magnus the Red, the Logos Maxima, has been consorting with the Aeldari. As if the sheer arrogance to assume mastery over the Great Ocean of the Warp and the daemons of Chaos wasn't enough. To be enchanted by the wonders and knowledge of the Eldar, to then work with them in the shadows away from your sight.
You should have better warned the Crimson King, educated him on exactly what he was dealing with to show him his mistakes. Your hopes of him learning by experience, to naturally ease him and test him as you intended.
Yet somehow his foolish alliance had fallen to be the least of your worries for what your sons have been doing.
Then there was the greatest nightmare of all, something which you knew that even the other Chaos Gods could feel fear against. The War of Blood and Thunder that was waged between Khorne and his endless armies, versus the full might of the Orks and the twin gods of Gork and Mork.
Even without direct intent, the sheer calamitous power and fury that was building in that conflict had shaken reality itself. Psykers across the galaxy screaming against the noise, the booming laughter drenched in blood, burning up by their own power. All other threats that were in battle with the Orks, now able to freely grow and develop without a balancing force.
If either side in this new War in Heaven were to win? Then the victor could very well become a test of battle against the galaxy as a whole, to see if survival was possible. Whether it be the roar of the first Chaos God or the bellowing laughter from the Ork Gods, it would be similarly devastating to all.
In a way, this is an unmitigated disaster.
You just needed more time. A little more time, a few more decades and everything would be over. Peace could finally come over the wastelands you had wrought.
The fact that this instability has reached such a point was a sign that the empire you have built is at the stage where its struggles outweigh its power or capability. A death sentence for lesser empires and kingdoms.
Too many corners were cut, too much haste focused upon instead of ensuring a greater foundation. It just needed to last a little longer, a few decades before a true collapse began is all you needed.
Yet the Great Crusade cannot be stopped, because to stop now would just be the worst of all options for the future. Too much time would be wasted, so many resources thrown away.
Trapped in this path, you would ensure with all your effort that the Imperium of Mankind would last until it was no longer useful.
In another way, this is a serendipitous turn of events.
Malcador might genuinely try to attack you if you said such a thing out loud, justifiably so with the near-impossible work he suffers through and your unfortunate mistakes against him. Even your Custodians would be baffled, as they had talked with and heard much of your intentions. To say such a thing, how could any man claim such madness in these times?
You do not gamble carelessly with your actions. The board was stacked in your favour long before you began to play. The truth is simpler than a grand design, it is an element that was intrinsically designed since the moment you rose to reclaim Terra.
The Imperium of Mankind was never meant to last. It was a stop-gap measure, a temporary design, a last resort of stability meant to be a stepping stone over the floods of devastation. It was a foundation for what you sought, not the end goal.
What mattered was winning the game, to triumph in war even if many battles had to be lost. It was better to feel regret and sorrow in victory, than to burn in destruction. You have learned, by many years of painful experience, to find opportunity in everything and to focus on the bigger picture.
If you had to sacrifice most of the Imperium of Mankind to save humanity? You would do what was needed, without hesitation if you knew there was no other way.
Yet… was there truly no other option?
A part of you cannot help but smile as you think of your tools, your champions, your sons. Other parts of you were furious, saddened, shocked and even betrayed. It was still such a surprise now, as you wondered when exactly this situation began with any of them.
Some of the Primarchs were openly working together for a rebellion against you, the laws that have been laid down and the current form of the Imperium's methods or its stances on various subjects. Speaking to the people as the words ripple across the fate of your empire, such as that Council of Orus.
Vulkan, the Eighteenth, the Lord of Drakes, the Champion of the Reformists. He always was so much more empathetic among his brothers, as was your intent with his design, but to take it to such an extent like this was somewhat stunning.
He knew what you were up against, you taught him about Chaos after what had occurred on the world of Aleph. Four superweapons were made for the Imperial Palace with four precise targets in mind, to thwart the ruling monsters of the Warp if they dared try to invade.
The threat of them revealed a great part behind your reasonings, why you had to compromise and do all that you had done, and yet he still argues for a better way. Or perhaps that knowledge instead inspired him to act, knowing that the fear and misery of those who suffer could manifest to such hostile degrees?
The true problem was that Vulkan wasn't wrong, he was just far too soon.
Perhaps you should have revealed more, the true solutions you envisioned and argue against him than dismiss him with false reasons. He could have helped support you, spending the time working on his reforms instead on either the Palace or even your greater projects inside. Yet his empathy might not allow such a thing, unable to fully comprehend the greater threats you saw against such current suffering.
Although, perhaps not? His sheer determination to save mankind, even against everything from petty politics to the unfortunate realities of human nature to the sheer time and effort required for any progress, provoked a small measure of sympathy even as he threatens the Imperium of Man by his kindness.
To go to Kelbor-Hal, the Fabricator-General of Mars and perhaps the most despised political opponent you currently have… how clever! You hadn't underestimated the Master of Mars, keeping a close eye on the planet and its people as much as possible, but you hadn't foreseen that your Dragon Lord would readily join hands with him and use this alliance the way he had. How you hated his actions, yet respected his ability to fight against you from a detached viewpoint.
Despite the resources and massive political backing he would have, he would still face grand difficulties and potential failure. Shackled by the Mechanicum if he wasn't careful, understanding the dreadful necessity of compromise to achieve a greater goal. Then there was Orus, the actions of his siblings.
Had he anticipated what his brother would offer in turn, especially your greatest champion against Chaos? Perhaps not, despite his surprising predictability the Primarch of the Eternal Wardens was quite infuriatingly audacious and acted all too casual with his recklessness.
Kesar Dorlin, the Eleventh, the Daemonsbane, the Second Anathema. To slay the likes of Kairos Fateweaver and the Changeling, two of your most hated opponents. To lead an army to the Maelstrom, over more than his insane desire to take thirty-five planets, and bring a victory that awed and stoked fear in the Chaos Gods. To bring low your worst enemies, aside from the Lord of Blood, and safeguard your designs against the Ruinous Powers.
You wished you could have trusted the strange child of Valhalla, indeed were you proud of his accomplishments and inheriting your mantle as Anathema, but he tested that trust even before joining the reformists.
He had your desire and will for grand designs, and certainly the capability, yet lacked the caution and wisdom to properly see them through. Who would ask to unlock their psychic potential, however safe or strong it was, to further focus against daemons? Asking for your deeper secrets purely to fight Chaos? His single mindedness was astonishing.
Yet it was also perhaps his great strength. He asked for much, including your secrets and knowledge, and yet had earned all that he asked for. He wore the promise and burden of his crusades against the daemons, carving each fallen son onto his armour and weaponry. That was something you could understand and respect, what fueled that endless drive the Eternal Wardens seemed to possess.
So full of potential, yet chained by the gaze of a young dreamer. If now was the time for him to see sense, to be tempered and properly grown, then so be it. The Maelstrom crusade was meant to be a shield to stop Vulkan's potential disaster, yet now it would become a richer and safer supply as it was taken by the Eternal Wardens. Truthfully, you did need as much as you could obtain and at least one issue could be dealt with by that hellscape.
You were just worried, and hopeful, that Kesar Dorlin would yet again succeed beyond your expectations.
Horus, your Lupercal, your First Found, the one who would be your Warmaster. His actions and words against you both hurt the most, and at the same time sparked a semblance of pride. To see your son grow up, wisdom and purpose tempering pride and power into something stronger than before. He has learned and stood up by himself, not blindly following you out of devotion to a parent's love.
You were far too sentimental with him, but it was deserved. How much time you spent together, how you raised him and taught him and cherished his efforts. He was a master of more than war, he knew how to lead, how to speak and listen, how to learn and build. He was a champion guided by your direct hand, he was a son who grew under his father's care.
You can feel his sorrow as he goes against you and can't help but match it. To think that Horus, of all your sons, could go against you… well, this was a learning experience for all. You understood why, it was a simple disagreement at the end, but you would not agree with it. Hopefully he would listen to your reason, with what you could reveal, even if he too does not agree with you.
May you both grow stronger from this, and that things won't turn for the worst.
The others of the reformist party also surprised you, from the Night Haunter who delved into your deeper secrets from the past and future to the work of your War-Marshal as his logical mind still stands firmly with your overly empathetic children. While they are against you, not all the surprises were unpleasant. Mortarion finally loosening his hatred of the witches, speaking in support with Magnus.
They are foolishly in-experienced, lacking your vision, but the children are growing wiser in their own ways. They do this because they want to right perceived wrongs, to hear the struggles of the ordinary man and assist them. They are not warlords focused only on conquest, or unthinking tools intent to just follow your orders.
They have truly become your sons.
And they call your rule to question.
Yet even that is an opportunity. There could be use found in the cries of these revolutionaries, something that would only improve your wider project.
Psychic ascendance, the Webway Project, the next-step after the current Imperium. Those three things were all that mattered. If 'you', as the Emperor, had to be sacrificed for it? So be it.
You had planned for many eventualities for the Primarchs. Stripping them of command, turning them away from war, removing them one way or another if need be. Thankfully, some of your sons have now clearly chosen for you the eventual fate that would become of them.
If you 'lost', then the role of the Emperor of Mankind could step down from its former height and you could focus more on what truly mattered. Even if you truly lost your position, as one or more of your sons takes over your title and commands the Imperium, it was not a great loss in the grand scheme of things.
You could show that you were not a god, that you were a man who could bleed. Officially grant your authority to your successor, to be allowed the perfect reason to head to the shadows of Terra and work on the ultimate bridge to mankind's ascendance you sought. You would be freed and able to lay the path you desired.
You would once more be a man, not a golden idol.
If you won, then your authority would be reaffirmed and the Imperium would grow stronger from these circumstances. You could lose some great worlds, many resources and even the sons you have seen rise up.
But if it was necessary, you would burn them all. So that nothing would be left against your path. Without these dissidents, the sight of them crushed seared into the minds of your people, you would have your followers, your tools and that which you trusted. No more distractions or internal waste, no more to rise against your command.
Absolute control for your designs, as a ruler of all humanity.
Vulkan's reforms would almost be a welcome tool for your own use, if it were not for the other threats that still remained. The Aeldari remnants, who had wormed their way towards Magnus the Red. The Blood and Thunder War, which could spell doom for the entire galaxy. The Civil War of the Imperium, which threatens to boil over if you do not find a way to bring it under your control.
So little time, so much to do, so many things to defeat.
You are not a man who gambles his life, or the fate of humanity, carelessly.
You do not gamble at all.
You would find a way, you would do anything to find a way.
You are the Emperor of Mankind, Master of the Imperium, and by your decree would the very stars bend to your plans.
No matter what would happen, you would find victory.
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The Emperor of Mankind and the Fate of the Imperium.
Your name is…
You have been many things across the span of your life.
You have been a Guardian to humanity across your many long years, including now.
You have been an Advisor to kings and leaders, when you weren't a rival or assassin to end their foul dominions.
You have been a Guide to the lost and powerful, such as teaching those with the ability to harness and channel the Immaterium that could live without succumbing to its madness.
You have been a Warrior, Champion, General, Commander and Warmaster across many conflicts great and small. The epithets you have attained through the crucible of battle are innumerable and myriad by every art of conflict, from the knife wielded in the shadows to the arrow of a bow to the armies that followed your orders to the immense psychic capabilities you used to bend the essence of realities.
You have seen and done things that few beings across the whole galaxy have experienced. You have killed planets and the foes that were upon them single-handedly, snuffed out stars and shattered fleets in the void. You have brought death and destruction to pantheons of deities, ground their domains and the aspects of their souls into the building blocks that helped forge your current designs.
You have cut down and chained a dragon worthy of the fell title of 'god' not out of majesty or psychic dominion, for it was a being outside of the Warp, but of pure might and impossible power within reality. For that you have been known to history and myth as the Dragonslayer. Though it was just a great shard, it was proof that even the greatest foes could fall against you and your people.
Your names are many and unneeded, for you are the Emperor, the Master of Mankind, Ruler of the Imperium and by extension most of humanity, Conqueror of the Galaxy and Suzerain of half a million worlds.
For many eras, mankind has endured without your direct guidance and mostly minimal protection. From stone knives and bear skins to glass skyscrapers and world-wide digital networks to star-ships and the use of other dimensions. Triumph after triumph, the vast horizons of knowledge continuously growing smaller under the scientific achievements that cascaded into greater heights.
It was far from perfection, all too far from it looking back, but at the time it hadn't needed to be such a thing. It was a time of humanity, expressed to heights that were unimaginable back at the start. Planets were terraformed into paradises, stars were harvested or contained to fuel it, legions of iron who could fight back against almost anything that was against the path of their creators.
The nature of souls, of the Warp, of life itself were slowly being unravelled. The greatest mysteries to be answered, catalogued and turned into another stepping stone in the history books. Humanity's ascendence was within view, no longer within the imaginarium of a dreamer's distant fantasy.
The very fabric of reality and the aether could have been turned into a tool. The Magnum Opus of humanity, the omnipotent sea, the masterpiece wrought out by the principal figureheads of those descended from the primitive beginnings on a world known as Earth.
In the flames of war, the Cybernetic Revolt, this era met its end and reached the Old Night. The boiling froth between realms came form and smothered the cries that echoed across the stars. The roads were blocked and there were no other paths for people to take, as the throat of civilization was torn out.
In many planets, it was a luxury to have water and a daily meal. In some sectors of space, monsters of every type preyed upon those who knew nothing more than misery and death. In your homeworld, in the cradle where homo sapiens had arisen, the oceans and forests and cities and cultures had all died.
Terra became a shambling corpse that died by starvation, that twisted itself because it couldn't function without its towering supports or roads across the galaxy or its metal-minded servants. It had happened so fast. It burned until it was full of deserts, wastelands and mad-made hells. Every work of art, used as fuel or turned into a weapon. Every home and building, turned into rubble or a fortress. Every single person, a slave or destroyer or tyrant.
It was unrecognisable, that part had struck you the most. It wasn't even like the distant past of tribes, growing empires and conquest. It was a melting pot of insanity than culture, beliefs based around bloodshed and ruin. Wars for the sake of scraps, that they knew were scraps, and there was no other answer but to kill another man for those pitiful crumbs.
There was no growth, no future, no change for the better. It was nothing but spiralling destruction. You had to rise up out of the shadows and take charge against the petty rulers and horrors that infested your home.
In the grim darkness that shrouded the destiny of the stars, heralding the storms of ruin that would lead to destruction and madness, you rose up to carve a new path for mankind. A light that would usher a new dawn, to shelter and embolden the crushed spirit of your people, to fight back and stand in victory over everything in existence.
In the end, you were exceptionally good at taking lives and slaying monsters.
You began as a king of ashes and savages, of a time so far removed from the past that the only reason it was remembered at all was due to how far the gigantic shadows of the previous eras had been cast with the ruins and surviving remnants. Millenia of cruelty, suffering, desperation and pointlessly destroyed lives.
You can't even spend a day in mourning for the death of humanity's hope or the innumerable losses in progress, because to even dwell on it just invites further misfortune. You cannot be who you were. You have to be Him. The Living Monument of a Golden Age. The Sovereign of Light. The One True Saviour.
You had to be the Emperor of Mankind, the Overlord of the Imperium, because there was nothing else you could think to do. Nothing was above your mission to save your people. There was no cause that mattered more than survival.
Through your power did you see the apocalypse that would occur, the psychic flames that would ignite every planet as every man, woman and child goes through a malign transcendence that is as unstable as a collapsing star.
The Fall of Humanity could not come to pass. The Psychic Awakening had to be contained. The Warp could not be allowed to overtake the Materium.
You would not let the galaxy burn.
There were no barriers for what you would be willing to do. Things you had previous made forbidden were almost all unleashed, no longer bound against the crises you were against. Some things were still kept locked or hidden or only as an idea, until you faced something that would warrant the unleashing of nightmares or acts too foul to be done without great reason.
One course of action, one nightmare darker than most… you needed to do it. There was no other way. Before even Terra's reclamation, before the rise of the twisted berserkers known as the Thunder Warriors and the carnage they'd bring…
You couldn't bring forth your vision alone. You needed champions strong enough to stand victorious over any enemy. You needed leaders worthy of armies that could conquer the stars. You needed tools that could forge the empire you needed to hold humanity in place for your true plans.
The Primarchs.
There was only one way you could have attained the knowledge required to create what you needed.
To Chaos, you were given the title of Anathema. One of your oldest and most powerful epithets. At the time, you hated them and knew them more than anyone else of humanity. You knew what power they held, what secrets they so intimately knew within their cores.
On the world of Molech, you did something you never thought that you would have to do. You met with the vast hurricanes of corrupted power, a golden flame amidst a storm that howled and struck and tried to kill you as they spoke in a twisted parody of cordial tradition.
Even for all your own power, skill and experience… it was no easy matter to meet with the Chaos Gods.
So you spoke of your plan, your designs, your intentions. You declared your authority over humanity and its fate. Within the Sea of Souls did you crown yourself as the Emperor of Mankind. The Master of the Imperium. The Unifier of Terra.
You did not ask or demand, threaten or promise. You didn't need to speak of price or worth. You did not beg or forge a contract.
It was known what you wanted, and you knew the costs like you knew the weight of every burden that would arise.
You were the Anathema and thus they resisted and called for your death. Parts of them reached forward to try to snuff out your light. But you felt no fear, this wasn't the first time you stole fire from the gods.
They held their swords from you, pulled back their claws, doused their raging infernos. They considered you seriously, in a silence that lasted for but a moment and yet an eternity. In this divine council, they followed the old rituals of madness.
They knew exactly what would happen if mankind was allowed to prosper again, the fate that would unfold whether your failed or succeeded in making a new era of prosperity. Far worse than what had brought the Prince of Pleasure into existence, it would become the quintessence of ruin for all.
That constant hunger for more in their endless games, that desire for destruction and madness across all reality, had been what truly convinced them to grant you that knowledge. In one breath did they cry out in joy and scream in rage, calling you a thief and a fool and king and beggar all at once. In that breath were the secrets you sought, to make the galaxy yours.
They labelled you a god, the word echoing as you found your path back to Terra. You did not heed their voices. You focused on the Unification of your people. Nothing was more important now, the course had begun and you couldn't turn away now.
You waged war against those who would not join your rule, laid the foundations for a galactic empire, recovered what technology and lost knowledge that you could, and hunted for those with the skill or capability you needed. Tearing down false idols or those who followed the ruin of Chaos, the monsters put to the sword or offered a role within your growing Imperium.
The Thunder Warriors were your hammer, thousands of the berserkers able to demolish hundreds of their foes no matter the strength of their enemies. Through the fear of their reputation did some warlords come to your side, and those that did not learnt their mistakes with ash and the rage of juggernauts.
They were a flawed creation, hasty work for a hasty role. To perfect them would take far more time then you could afford to waste and effort that was best spent elsewhere, between the Custodians that you hand-crafted and the Primarchs that would one day be completed in time for expansion beyond your homeworld.
Malcador the Sigillite, your herald and advisor, a better companion you couldn't have found. A devastating master of psychic powers in all ways, with an even greater capability for ensuring that the empire you forged would flourish. The lord of your hidden knives, your public-speakers, your clerks and your enforcers. Without the work of your Sigillite, so much more would have been needed.
The true prize of your conquest took far longer to develop, your masterwork and your children. For centuries did you work on genetic design of the Primarchs, incorporating all biological technology and scraps of gene-lore from those who refined the creation and use of such vat-grown warriors over millennia.
From that same lore did you envision legions of gene-enhanced soldiers. Ones that would not falter against any foe, in armour and weaponry beyond what most humans could dream of, with minds brought up to utilise the finest strategies.
The source of al this power laid deeper within. Carefully cut from the core of your being, souls constructed and channelled with enough strength to rival the fury of a supernova, bonded into the finest flesh you could grant them. They slowly grew within their incubation tanks, appearing similar to actual newborns to the mundane eye.
How strange it felt to have sons in a time like this.
But the Ruinous Powers knew what you intended, having an equal lack of trust as you held for them and the primal cunning that existed in all beasts. Their agreement was a poisoned chalice and they had chosen the time to strike, at the perfect target.
In one fell swoop, shaking the Sea of Souls with their actions, they had stolen your sons and scattered them across the galaxy.
Your initial designs threatened to burn into nothing but cinders. Biological samples managed to be saved, allowing the Astartes Legions to be formed. The whole biotechnical facility had been destroyed, the earth and stone tainted by the presence of its attackers. How what occurred was even done had been clouded from your sight, as was where your Primarchs had gone.
You knew that they were still alive, that they had to be alive, but in that instant of loss you would have to change the campaign that would be known as the Great Crusade.
Compromise after compromise had to be enacted. The Astartes were made with lesser leaders, forming their own cultures of war and general idiosyncrasies. The Selenar had their secrets and laboratories raided, to further enhance your new warriors amd do your best to ensure that the gene-seed would remain stable enough until your sons were recovered. The Treaty with Mars had been enacted as you were crowned the avatar of a god, as countless souls began to pray to you as the Omnissiah.
It would all be worth it, at the end it would finally come together to what you truly wished, but that didn't mean that it was good. If you had another way, if you had a little more time, if things had just gone slightly differently…
There was no use dwelling on the past or what could have been. What was done was done, the countless dead have no use for empty platitudes.
Time passed in destruction, salvation, expansion and the slow rediscovery of your lost creations.
Nearly half a million planets were brought into the Imperium of Man, both those that had lost branches of humanity lost within the Old Night or the remains of those who could not as well as the panoply of enemies that your vast armies had brought low. Many worlds were turned to ash, many more were developed to feed the engine that was your vast domain.
Technology and riches have accumulated beyond the dreams of the ruined spectre of Terra, your homeworld restored into a shining gem. The Imperial Palace and the Golden Throne within grew, the centrepiece to your ultimate ideas. Trade and tithes flowing into the birthplace of mankind, moulded in the forges of Mars and the shipyards of Saturn and Jupiter.
Where once your Astartes numbered in the thousands, they surpassed a million souls who fought under the leadership of your Primarchs. The Solar Auxilia marched as did the Imperial Army as a whole, single regiments dwarfing the entire armies of some planets. All guided by your Astronomican, the light that allowed the Imperium to function at all.
The Rangda have been wiped out, the Void Dragon able to be imprisoned once more after its apocalyptic unleashing, with only remnants of the Slaugth surviving. Ork empires were laid to waste, the Greenskins burned and butchered when they were encountered. Enslavers, Khrave, Nephilim, Psybrids, Aeldari and the Hellesponte were slain or pushed back to the dark pits from which they came from.
As for Chaos…
You have enacted a ritual of colossal proportions, sealed a faultline of reality known as the Maelstrom that the War in Heaven had cracked open and left to fester for aeons. All the treasures, resources, technology and psychic knowledge laid within can be obtained. It was one of the greatest, critical wars that
With all that was now made available, the success of your Webway Project was clearer than ever before. Bringing not perfection or godhood to mankind, but safety from its enemies and a road towards an ascendance beyond even your own capability or the self-proclaimed omnipotence of the Archdaemons.
Weakened far more than expected in recent years, the Ruinous Powers have only tasted failure against you and your sons. Their tangles plans cut or collapsed, their servants killed or forced to flee. Grand efforts ending up against them, as they did with their use of your failure that was Lorgar Aurelian.
Then after this grand victory over the Maelstrom, as the remnants of the once vast rift began to be delved into and colonised, something unexpected had occurred.
No, 'unexpected' had the wrong connotations. It was just something that happened sooner than you had wished for. You had tasted hope too many times to be surprised by the bitterness, as it indeed was the domain of one of your most hated foes.
Your Imperium is falling.
Worlds are rising up in rebellion, especially in what had become widely known as the Desolation of Ultima as the domain under Angron's slaughter has finally broken. The costs that have kept growing, to the point you had to personally oversee the management over the dockyards of Mars, and now are reaching peak. Political situations cascading, exploding over
The morale and loyalty over countless Imperial Army regiments is in record lows, revolutionaries and dissidents rising up. Or there would be a corruption, the mundane variety that has lived with mankind since its inception, and there would be theft, raiding, dereliction of duty and little more than piracy. The falsehoods about your promises, the perfection of your Imperial Truth, are becoming all too clear all too soon.
So many pointlessly dead or lives wasted in other ways, entire planets falling in just the confusion that arises from such circumstances.
Then there is what your sons have been doing.
Magnus the Red, the Logos Maxima, has been consorting with the Aeldari. As if the sheer arrogance to assume mastery over the Great Ocean of the Warp and the daemons of Chaos wasn't enough. To be enchanted by the wonders and knowledge of the Eldar, to then work with them in the shadows away from your sight.
You should have better warned the Crimson King, educated him on exactly what he was dealing with to show him his mistakes. Your hopes of him learning by experience, to naturally ease him and test him as you intended.
Yet somehow his foolish alliance had fallen to be the least of your worries for what your sons have been doing.
Then there was the greatest nightmare of all, something which you knew that even the other Chaos Gods could feel fear against. The War of Blood and Thunder that was waged between Khorne and his endless armies, versus the full might of the Orks and the twin gods of Gork and Mork.
Even without direct intent, the sheer calamitous power and fury that was building in that conflict had shaken reality itself. Psykers across the galaxy screaming against the noise, the booming laughter drenched in blood, burning up by their own power. All other threats that were in battle with the Orks, now able to freely grow and develop without a balancing force.
If either side in this new War in Heaven were to win? Then the victor could very well become a test of battle against the galaxy as a whole, to see if survival was possible. Whether it be the roar of the first Chaos God or the bellowing laughter from the Ork Gods, it would be similarly devastating to all.
In a way, this is an unmitigated disaster.
You just needed more time. A little more time, a few more decades and everything would be over. Peace could finally come over the wastelands you had wrought.
The fact that this instability has reached such a point was a sign that the empire you have built is at the stage where its struggles outweigh its power or capability. A death sentence for lesser empires and kingdoms.
Too many corners were cut, too much haste focused upon instead of ensuring a greater foundation. It just needed to last a little longer, a few decades before a true collapse began is all you needed.
Yet the Great Crusade cannot be stopped, because to stop now would just be the worst of all options for the future. Too much time would be wasted, so many resources thrown away.
Trapped in this path, you would ensure with all your effort that the Imperium of Mankind would last until it was no longer useful.
In another way, this is a serendipitous turn of events.
Malcador might genuinely try to attack you if you said such a thing out loud, justifiably so with the near-impossible work he suffers through and your unfortunate mistakes against him. Even your Custodians would be baffled, as they had talked with and heard much of your intentions. To say such a thing, how could any man claim such madness in these times?
You do not gamble carelessly with your actions. The board was stacked in your favour long before you began to play. The truth is simpler than a grand design, it is an element that was intrinsically designed since the moment you rose to reclaim Terra.
The Imperium of Mankind was never meant to last. It was a stop-gap measure, a temporary design, a last resort of stability meant to be a stepping stone over the floods of devastation. It was a foundation for what you sought, not the end goal.
What mattered was winning the game, to triumph in war even if many battles had to be lost. It was better to feel regret and sorrow in victory, than to burn in destruction. You have learned, by many years of painful experience, to find opportunity in everything and to focus on the bigger picture.
If you had to sacrifice most of the Imperium of Mankind to save humanity? You would do what was needed, without hesitation if you knew there was no other way.
Yet… was there truly no other option?
A part of you cannot help but smile as you think of your tools, your champions, your sons. Other parts of you were furious, saddened, shocked and even betrayed. It was still such a surprise now, as you wondered when exactly this situation began with any of them.
Some of the Primarchs were openly working together for a rebellion against you, the laws that have been laid down and the current form of the Imperium's methods or its stances on various subjects. Speaking to the people as the words ripple across the fate of your empire, such as that Council of Orus.
Vulkan, the Eighteenth, the Lord of Drakes, the Champion of the Reformists. He always was so much more empathetic among his brothers, as was your intent with his design, but to take it to such an extent like this was somewhat stunning.
He knew what you were up against, you taught him about Chaos after what had occurred on the world of Aleph. Four superweapons were made for the Imperial Palace with four precise targets in mind, to thwart the ruling monsters of the Warp if they dared try to invade.
The threat of them revealed a great part behind your reasonings, why you had to compromise and do all that you had done, and yet he still argues for a better way. Or perhaps that knowledge instead inspired him to act, knowing that the fear and misery of those who suffer could manifest to such hostile degrees?
The true problem was that Vulkan wasn't wrong, he was just far too soon.
Perhaps you should have revealed more, the true solutions you envisioned and argue against him than dismiss him with false reasons. He could have helped support you, spending the time working on his reforms instead on either the Palace or even your greater projects inside. Yet his empathy might not allow such a thing, unable to fully comprehend the greater threats you saw against such current suffering.
Although, perhaps not? His sheer determination to save mankind, even against everything from petty politics to the unfortunate realities of human nature to the sheer time and effort required for any progress, provoked a small measure of sympathy even as he threatens the Imperium of Man by his kindness.
To go to Kelbor-Hal, the Fabricator-General of Mars and perhaps the most despised political opponent you currently have… how clever! You hadn't underestimated the Master of Mars, keeping a close eye on the planet and its people as much as possible, but you hadn't foreseen that your Dragon Lord would readily join hands with him and use this alliance the way he had. How you hated his actions, yet respected his ability to fight against you from a detached viewpoint.
Despite the resources and massive political backing he would have, he would still face grand difficulties and potential failure. Shackled by the Mechanicum if he wasn't careful, understanding the dreadful necessity of compromise to achieve a greater goal. Then there was Orus, the actions of his siblings.
Had he anticipated what his brother would offer in turn, especially your greatest champion against Chaos? Perhaps not, despite his surprising predictability the Primarch of the Eternal Wardens was quite infuriatingly audacious and acted all too casual with his recklessness.
Kesar Dorlin, the Eleventh, the Daemonsbane, the Second Anathema. To slay the likes of Kairos Fateweaver and the Changeling, two of your most hated opponents. To lead an army to the Maelstrom, over more than his insane desire to take thirty-five planets, and bring a victory that awed and stoked fear in the Chaos Gods. To bring low your worst enemies, aside from the Lord of Blood, and safeguard your designs against the Ruinous Powers.
You wished you could have trusted the strange child of Valhalla, indeed were you proud of his accomplishments and inheriting your mantle as Anathema, but he tested that trust even before joining the reformists.
He had your desire and will for grand designs, and certainly the capability, yet lacked the caution and wisdom to properly see them through. Who would ask to unlock their psychic potential, however safe or strong it was, to further focus against daemons? Asking for your deeper secrets purely to fight Chaos? His single mindedness was astonishing.
Yet it was also perhaps his great strength. He asked for much, including your secrets and knowledge, and yet had earned all that he asked for. He wore the promise and burden of his crusades against the daemons, carving each fallen son onto his armour and weaponry. That was something you could understand and respect, what fueled that endless drive the Eternal Wardens seemed to possess.
So full of potential, yet chained by the gaze of a young dreamer. If now was the time for him to see sense, to be tempered and properly grown, then so be it. The Maelstrom crusade was meant to be a shield to stop Vulkan's potential disaster, yet now it would become a richer and safer supply as it was taken by the Eternal Wardens. Truthfully, you did need as much as you could obtain and at least one issue could be dealt with by that hellscape.
You were just worried, and hopeful, that Kesar Dorlin would yet again succeed beyond your expectations.
Horus, your Lupercal, your First Found, the one who would be your Warmaster. His actions and words against you both hurt the most, and at the same time sparked a semblance of pride. To see your son grow up, wisdom and purpose tempering pride and power into something stronger than before. He has learned and stood up by himself, not blindly following you out of devotion to a parent's love.
You were far too sentimental with him, but it was deserved. How much time you spent together, how you raised him and taught him and cherished his efforts. He was a master of more than war, he knew how to lead, how to speak and listen, how to learn and build. He was a champion guided by your direct hand, he was a son who grew under his father's care.
You can feel his sorrow as he goes against you and can't help but match it. To think that Horus, of all your sons, could go against you… well, this was a learning experience for all. You understood why, it was a simple disagreement at the end, but you would not agree with it. Hopefully he would listen to your reason, with what you could reveal, even if he too does not agree with you.
May you both grow stronger from this, and that things won't turn for the worst.
The others of the reformist party also surprised you, from the Night Haunter who delved into your deeper secrets from the past and future to the work of your War-Marshal as his logical mind still stands firmly with your overly empathetic children. While they are against you, not all the surprises were unpleasant. Mortarion finally loosening his hatred of the witches, speaking in support with Magnus.
They are foolishly in-experienced, lacking your vision, but the children are growing wiser in their own ways. They do this because they want to right perceived wrongs, to hear the struggles of the ordinary man and assist them. They are not warlords focused only on conquest, or unthinking tools intent to just follow your orders.
They have truly become your sons.
And they call your rule to question.
Yet even that is an opportunity. There could be use found in the cries of these revolutionaries, something that would only improve your wider project.
Psychic ascendance, the Webway Project, the next-step after the current Imperium. Those three things were all that mattered. If 'you', as the Emperor, had to be sacrificed for it? So be it.
You had planned for many eventualities for the Primarchs. Stripping them of command, turning them away from war, removing them one way or another if need be. Thankfully, some of your sons have now clearly chosen for you the eventual fate that would become of them.
If you 'lost', then the role of the Emperor of Mankind could step down from its former height and you could focus more on what truly mattered. Even if you truly lost your position, as one or more of your sons takes over your title and commands the Imperium, it was not a great loss in the grand scheme of things.
You could show that you were not a god, that you were a man who could bleed. Officially grant your authority to your successor, to be allowed the perfect reason to head to the shadows of Terra and work on the ultimate bridge to mankind's ascendance you sought. You would be freed and able to lay the path you desired.
You would once more be a man, not a golden idol.
If you won, then your authority would be reaffirmed and the Imperium would grow stronger from these circumstances. You could lose some great worlds, many resources and even the sons you have seen rise up.
But if it was necessary, you would burn them all. So that nothing would be left against your path. Without these dissidents, the sight of them crushed seared into the minds of your people, you would have your followers, your tools and that which you trusted. No more distractions or internal waste, no more to rise against your command.
Absolute control for your designs, as a ruler of all humanity.
Vulkan's reforms would almost be a welcome tool for your own use, if it were not for the other threats that still remained. The Aeldari remnants, who had wormed their way towards Magnus the Red. The Blood and Thunder War, which could spell doom for the entire galaxy. The Civil War of the Imperium, which threatens to boil over if you do not find a way to bring it under your control.
So little time, so much to do, so many things to defeat.
You are not a man who gambles his life, or the fate of humanity, carelessly.
You do not gamble at all.
You would find a way, you would do anything to find a way.
You are the Emperor of Mankind, Master of the Imperium, and by your decree would the very stars bend to your plans.
No matter what would happen, you would find victory.
Last edited:
Redleo
Slaaneshi Men Of Iron
- Location
- Eye Of Terror
I'll edit this thank you
- Location
- USA
Well the votes over so no real need to or anything.
Project:Thautam Part 3 (canon TBD)
Redleo
Slaaneshi Men Of Iron
- Location
- Eye Of Terror
Project:Thautam Part 3
The Custodians were never sent out of their masters resends unless something dire was needed to be accomplished, something were nothing could be risked and only so many Custodians could be allotted to a single project.
And yet here stood over 51 of the golden warriors each one was the match for an army of the greatest strength. Each could decimate some of the most destructive forces in the galaxy and yet Tabon was…...afraid, he was a space marine and yet he knew fear.
Tabon was one of many Librarians gathered for this grand ritual, he was a proud member of the Salamanders who's flame burned ever bright yet the image of these warriors so above them in physical strength as they mightier then mortal men struck fear into him.
Why were they here? What Force Hidden in this planet or coming to it was so dire that all of these Custodians being gathered. At first he assumed a culling of the psykicly gifted was called. That would not be surprising Psykers are never seen in a positive light by their Legion save the Thousand Sons and Eternal Wardens.
Tabon soon was told the truth they were to restore the Runes upon the planet and even edit them but for what purpose he did not know. Yet instead of settling his heart this only raised more questions.
He knew of the Great Ritural that sealed the great tear into the Fire Sea or as others would call it the Warp but he was never involved, was this planet so long abandoned by life have the secret to a similar ritual and to what end.
Tabon turned to his partner the ever silent White Scar who even now stared at a broken bone.
"What did your arts tell you cousin in scars?" He said not really expecting an answer but he soon received one.
"Nothing I did not wish to alert the monsters in the stars beyond, this was long before. The bones told me of a ancient menace reborn but I have already told this to the others."
"And what did the Thousand Sons say?"
"They speak in technical terms not in the spirit of spirits but they agree what ever we are marching towards shall be important." That was the only fact of the matter.
"Which no one needed to tell you we can see it in the air around us this many of our kind gathered in one spot." The Chegorian said looking wide to his fellow psykers who were listening.
"Whatever happens my spear is ready." And with that the Chegorian returned to silence, the broken bone necklace returned to his neck and his eyes back to the copies of the Runes seen from orbit.
"As is my Volkite." And with that Tabon's heart was resolved he would not show fear not now. Not when so many of them were in need of him.
The cultist were only base human no matter their mutations or weapons they could not so much as scratch the Auramite plate even when they had the chance to see their enemy so fast was their speed.
Kokomo watched as her friends were cut threw like so much raw butter in a drawer of knives, she knew she could not cannot win. What was winning here to her mind survival. She stood far from the approaching golden monster her fingers gripping the arcane tome she opened it and pushed it partially into the spilled guts of her closest fallen all, the blood soaking into the pages and channeling the power into the rite.
Kokomo smiled as the book was engulfed in blue and grey fire even as she was stabbed threw the chest by the halbard….death was near instant.
Part 3 of maybe 5 I'm making these longer in piece size I just ain't used to doing long word stories it's been so long.
The Custodians were never sent out of their masters resends unless something dire was needed to be accomplished, something were nothing could be risked and only so many Custodians could be allotted to a single project.
And yet here stood over 51 of the golden warriors each one was the match for an army of the greatest strength. Each could decimate some of the most destructive forces in the galaxy and yet Tabon was…...afraid, he was a space marine and yet he knew fear.
Tabon was one of many Librarians gathered for this grand ritual, he was a proud member of the Salamanders who's flame burned ever bright yet the image of these warriors so above them in physical strength as they mightier then mortal men struck fear into him.
Why were they here? What Force Hidden in this planet or coming to it was so dire that all of these Custodians being gathered. At first he assumed a culling of the psykicly gifted was called. That would not be surprising Psykers are never seen in a positive light by their Legion save the Thousand Sons and Eternal Wardens.
Tabon soon was told the truth they were to restore the Runes upon the planet and even edit them but for what purpose he did not know. Yet instead of settling his heart this only raised more questions.
He knew of the Great Ritural that sealed the great tear into the Fire Sea or as others would call it the Warp but he was never involved, was this planet so long abandoned by life have the secret to a similar ritual and to what end.
Tabon turned to his partner the ever silent White Scar who even now stared at a broken bone.
"What did your arts tell you cousin in scars?" He said not really expecting an answer but he soon received one.
"Nothing I did not wish to alert the monsters in the stars beyond, this was long before. The bones told me of a ancient menace reborn but I have already told this to the others."
"And what did the Thousand Sons say?"
"They speak in technical terms not in the spirit of spirits but they agree what ever we are marching towards shall be important." That was the only fact of the matter.
"Which no one needed to tell you we can see it in the air around us this many of our kind gathered in one spot." The Chegorian said looking wide to his fellow psykers who were listening.
"Whatever happens my spear is ready." And with that the Chegorian returned to silence, the broken bone necklace returned to his neck and his eyes back to the copies of the Runes seen from orbit.
"As is my Volkite." And with that Tabon's heart was resolved he would not show fear not now. Not when so many of them were in need of him.
The cultist were only base human no matter their mutations or weapons they could not so much as scratch the Auramite plate even when they had the chance to see their enemy so fast was their speed.
Kokomo watched as her friends were cut threw like so much raw butter in a drawer of knives, she knew she could not cannot win. What was winning here to her mind survival. She stood far from the approaching golden monster her fingers gripping the arcane tome she opened it and pushed it partially into the spilled guts of her closest fallen all, the blood soaking into the pages and channeling the power into the rite.
Kokomo smiled as the book was engulfed in blue and grey fire even as she was stabbed threw the chest by the halbard….death was near instant.
Part 3 of maybe 5 I'm making these longer in piece size I just ain't used to doing long word stories it's been so long.
Keypoints
Keypoints
Everything was starting to fall in place for the second heist; at least, that was what Corvus told himself. Such a vast conspiracy and plan had many moving parts to it, adding a host of complications and variables to consider. Naturally, the Ravenlord accounted for most.
There were, unfortunately, certain variables that Corvus could not control or even begin to predict happening. He had long since accepted the things that he couldn't manage and that there was an element of chance to these things. Nevertheless, the Primarch was still leery.
Especially when it came to one individual in particular, these days, Sachmis was the only person in this grand plot and conspiracy still in the dark about this. Corvus didn't see it as an issue, though. Their relationship had many secrets, and neither would agree to be completely "open" about their activities.
As far as Corvus was concerned, honesty meant not backstabbing or hindering the other through their actions. Anything involving Ravenloft or his Legion's operations had no bearing on whatever Sachmis got up to, and the same went for her.
But now, Corvus realized that he might have broken that unspoken agreement when he, Eldrad, and Cegorach determined she needed to recover the vault. It wasn't that they needed her approval (they didn't,) but Corvus wondered if dropping this on her wouldn't result in some pushback from the nascent Pirate Queen.
Then again, Eldrad and Cegorach probably figured any such thing would be directed exclusively to the Primarch. After all this time spent among the Eldar, Corvus learned they were quite an accomplished species when it came to leaving someone else holding a proverbial bag of shit when they didn't have to.
Regardless, Corvus recognized that it was time to explain why Sachmis was needed for the heist, which also meant clarifying the why. This meant disclosing certain pieces of information: Ravenloft, the Skeleton Key, and the knowledge gained on the divine.
When Corvus thought about how that conversation would go, he felt apprehensive. It was one thing to explain everything to his brothers or, gods forbid, the Emperor, but Corvus knew his lover intimately enough to understand that he had no idea how Sachmis would react.
And that was a terrifying prospect. Sometimes knowing how someone would or could react based on previous interactions made it far easier to predict the response, but even after everything the two lovers had been through…Corvus still had trouble reading Sachmis.
Corvus made sure never to tell her this. The last thing her ego needed was the idea that her cunning was on the level of outsmarting a Primarch. It wasn't. Rather, Corvus determined that having romantic feelings towards someone caused "unreasonable" perceptions of them.
Love complicates all things, for better and worse. Sachmis especially.
The plan was simple enough: Corvus invited Sachmis to dinner with him. Their "dates" became a bit more tame and wholesome, though it inevitably resulted in the pair ending the night sharing a bed and not sleeping until the early morning hours.
Still, it was an improvement from just drinking and fucking all the time. The Drukhari and Asuryani created this image of their societies being highly sophisticated or extravagant. Yet Corvus saw that they enjoyed doing the same things as most humans: Drinking, eating, dancing, fighting, sex, etc.
Even if they claimed it was "different" from the humans, Corvus found that their vices were rooted in the same desires as most species wanting to relax and have fun. The problem with the Dark Eldar was that their idea of fun was so distorted and vile that it was just a means to a twisted end.
By the gods' mercy and through repeated interactions with Corvus, his Drukhari lover seems to have abandoned the worst vices in favor of just drinking and casual sex. Perhaps that was a considerable accomplishment, but they were still equally exhausting activities in the mental sense.
Corvus was a busy Primarch, and he knew Sachmis was likewise handling quite a lot, so spending an entire night engaged in debauchery didn't necessarily feel conducive to their schedules. That wasn't to say that neither enjoyed being together, but Corvus didn't like how fast time seemed to pass without him even noticing.
It was just hard to say "no" sometimes. A worrying trend if Corvus was being honest with himself, as it meant the Primarch became predisposed to dawdle with Sachmis. Again, the problem came with refusing her…solicitations at night. It was far easier and enjoyable to just give in and burn away the night together.
Hence the innocence of these dates is so appealing to Corvus. He could easily work around a "commitment" that night and spend the rest of his time focusing on something pressing, like compliance or diplomatic matter. Sachmis wasn't exactly happy, but it wasn't like they were doing anything particularly fun.
As such, one of these dates would be a good point to start the discussion. No reason to bring up the issue of religion and gods before or after drinking and sex. Tonight was already going to be a rather fantastic series of revaluations.
If there was one thing that Corvus knew about Sachmis, it was that whenever the opportunity to have fun with the Primarch presented itself, she came practically running. Corvus had to wait only a few hours for her to arrive at his room. These days the pair had methods for moving about either ship without getting seen. Granted, stopping the rumors from floating around was becoming increasingly difficult.
Because in the end, something had inevitably slipped out that the Primarch was seeing someone in his chambers. How that information got out was still being investigated, but Corvus suspected that one of the Aeldari told someone, and a rumor got around.
Gossip on ships, even Astartes vessels, made good time and distance, especially regarding relationships. For some reason, humans and Eldar shared an affinity to talk about who was sleeping with who because it was far too entertaining to ignore.
Sachmis didn't care. If anything, she was probably ready to brag about sleeping with one of the Primarchs. Corvus wasn't prepared to talk about his love life. He already got grilled enough from Roboute back on Orus. Strange as it was, Corvus liked this aspect of Sachmis because she wanted others to know that she was perhaps the only person in the galaxy to make Corvus Corax happy.
Corvus was still trying to come to terms with that bit.
When Sachmis finally arrived outside his room, she appeared, as always, dressed in something a bit too revealing but equally dangerous. Her face was similarly bemused and excited as she sauntered in, making herself comfortable.
Sitting on a chair and crossing her legs, Sachmis said, "You should've called for me yesterday; I had more free time then." The open invitation was familiar, but Corvus had prior engagements this week.
"Been busy." As he poured some sparkling water for her, Corvus remarked, "Wish I could say tonight was just pleasure, but it will have to be a mix of it and business."
"Tch." Sachmis scoffed upon hearing, "To my people, mixing business and pleasure means they are planning on getting you killed, but only after dinner and a show." Taking the glass, she sipped and glanced at him expectantly.
Corvus shrugged, "I'm sure many people would prefer dying if they got a nice meal before it all ended." How many people would knowingly die and get nothing for all their trouble? A tragic tale repeated across a hundred thousand worlds.
"I'd prefer not to die full stomach or otherwise." She replied to Corvus, "But I digress; I take it we are just here to eat and chat?"
"Something like that." Corvus had a small spread laid out on a table. "I need to talk to you about a serious matter. The same one that brought you into my service in the first place."
She got a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Oh, right. Stealing that Shard of Khaine and whatnot. Even after you explained it to me, you skipped out on details."
"There was a reason for that." Corvus sat at the table, "And we can go over it later, but for now, let's eat." He gestured to the assortment of human food. He had been slowly trying to get Sachmis to partake in such delicacies. His girlfriend was a picky eater.
Human food was either too bland or salty for her. On the other hand, Sachmis did find a few dishes to be palpable, especially if they involved some sort of alcohol component. So a stew soaked in red wine or risotto with a white was what she liked.
For this dinner, Corvus made a Grox Steak that had been soaking in blood and wine for the last ten hours. It took a pair of skilled hands and a sharp mind to stop the meat from being ruined, but it was simple enough.
"Obviously, the topic for tonight is going to be something you think will anger or annoy me." Sachmis asked as she sliced into her steak, tearing off a bloody piece, "Because you only ever spoil me to stop a potential outburst."
Corvus didn't look at Sachmis as he ate some steak, "Am I wrong to think otherwise?"
"No." Sachmis amusedly said, "I think it's cute that you believe you know enough to predict what I may or may not do in any situation."
The Ravenlord only scoffed before sipping his wine, "You are predictable, Sachmis. Just not in ways you think about. Like your predisposition to signal your ire by twirling things in your fingers. It's a nervous tick."
Now it was her turn to scoff, "Aeldari do not have such things. Your mind is just creating illusions to justify certain actions or responses." Corvus smirked behind his goblet at hearing the annoyance in her voice. Sachmis pretended to be unflappable in everything, even when Corvus knew that wasn't the case.
He couldn't help but counter by saying, "And your mind has a selective memory of things. Whenever you are displeased about something, all the little things you do are almost cute in their own way. Like how you pout whenever you don't get your favorite dessert."
This got a response in the form of a blush and glare from his lover, "I do not pout."
"You are so a poutter." Corvus enjoyed doing this too much, but the little things kept their engagement. Soon the two of them were "arguing" about who had the most noticeable tells or ticks whenever they got annoyed or angry.
Neither of them even realized how the conversation turned into a farcical and absurd discussion or that by the time they finished dinner, they were both chuckling at one remark or another. A smooth transition to dessert allowed Corvus to get the conversation back on track.
"What do you know about the gods or the divine?"
Rather than be deterred or confused by the question, Sachmis merely scoffed while eating her tiramisu, "Plenty enough to know they are, at best, bothersome, and at worst, meddlesome. I never worshiped them. Most of our kind didn't during the Old Empire."
"And that clearly didn't change even after meeting Cegorach." Even during her brief stint as a Harlequin, Corvus knew that Sachmis had zero reverence or tolerance for the Laughing God.
Taking a sip of her wine, Sachmis gave Corvus a wary glance, "There is reason Drukhari call upon the Dark Muses. They were the first of our kind that achieved greatness and separated from the Craftworlders. Even though their actions are still relatively recent, their consequences are felt across the Ashen City."
Corvus needed to investigate the Dark Muses at some point. "But you don't worship them either."
A dark glare was directed toward Corvus from Sachmis, "I worship myself, Corvus." She gave him a pervasive smile, "Although I seem to be on my knees quite a bit whenever I am with you…"
Ignoring the warm feeling in his neck, Corvus continued, "Putting that aside, you still haven't told me what you know about gods and divinity."
She shrugged, "It's a power that isn't within my grasp. As such, I don't care for it. The so-called Great Enemy matters not to me either. I know better than to accept their gifts. After all, the Warp is so fickle and often untrustworthy."
Corvus nodded, slightly relieved to hear that. "You remember that we are trying to secure a Shard of Khaine, but you don't seem to give much stock towards its importance."
This time, Sachmis laughed, "Oh yes, the Bloody Handed God. As if I would ever give such a being praise. Kaela Mensha Khaine…what a bastard. Feared and respected by all, but unloved and hated. He and Cegorach are the exact things that showcase why gods are such precarious and unreliable entities."
Hearing such a skeptical take from Sachmis was enlightening. Then again, Corvus had to remind himself that her arrogance and insecurities drove this. Her anti-authoritarian streak and lust for power likely made Sachmis averse to anyone with more power than her.
"Why all these questions, Corvus?" Sachmis idly asked as she finished her dessert. "The Asuryani have the means to secure the shard, so I doubt either of us will have an issue getting it out of some vault."
"It's just some vault." Corvus remarked after a moment, "It's a Shell for a Godseed."
"Godseed?" Sachmis looked confused, "And a…shell? Is that some sort of description used for a specific defense mechanism you humans use?"
Idly tapping his right finger on the table, Corvus looked at Sachmis, "What I'm about to tell you is something that must be kept between the two of us, love."
She narrowed her eyes briefly before a glimmer of amusement appeared, "Oh…oh my! Am I about to hear one of your precious secrets? I do hope it's a scandalous one!"
"This is serious, Sachmis."
"I know!" She giggled at his equally serious expression, "You made me dinner and called me 'love' without being prompted. A tried and true tactic to gently prepare your significant other for something important. So predictable."
The nerve of this woman. "Considering what I need to discuss, I felt it prudent to ease you into the conversation."
She waved him off, "Yes, yes, you are helping me prepare for the stunning revelation you are about to reveal." Sachmis sipped some wine, "Will this take the rest of the night? I'd like to burn off dinner with our usual nocturnal activities."
"Hmm…" Corvus sounded displeased, "This is serious, Sachmis."
Hearing the tone in her lover's voice, Sachmis sighed and set down her wine glass, "Fine. If you aren't rising to my teasing, it must be important to whatever is in store for me. I withhold any further ridicule until after you finish."
This will have to do. At least Sachmis was taking this seriously now. Corvus sat back down and figured the best place to start was what prompted him to create Ravenloft—namely, the idea of faith and its power upon the warp.
Several hours later…
How does one explain the lessons one learns while looking into the nature of gods and the divine? Corvus found it easiest to help the other conceptualize such things. Divinity was, on paper, an outrageous complex subject but framed in such ways that one could comprehend the purpose.
As such, explaining it to his lover was easy enough. Sachmis was a dangerous, intelligent, and cunning woman. Hence the Ravenlord didn't need to dumb anything down for her. So Corvus took the time to explain as much as he could.
Perhaps more frightening was once Sachmis got over her initial confusion and dismissal and started paying attention, she was quiet for the rest of the talk. Asking only a few questions before letting Corvus explain things.
By the time he circled back around to the issues on the heist of Venus, Sachmis had a look of stoic contemplation. Corvus could figure the gears were turning in her head, wondering how exactly they were expected to secure the vault, godseed, and the shard in one go.
"So, you have a divine relic? Akin to the Ulieth Orioss? One that you made with the help of that Lord of Gears, who I thought was some pet machine intelligence but is actually a god and literal divine matter found from the birth site of another god that your pet organization found?"
"Yes."
Sachmis nodded before asking, "Can I see this Skeleton Key?" Corvus briefly weighed the options of showing it to her but figured he told her this much already. Summoning forth the key from his soul, the divine relic appeared and basked the room in an ethereal glow.
The former Archon suddenly stood and stared at the key with stunned amazement in her eyes and what Corvus saw as wanton greed.
"Incredible." Sachmis whispered under her breath before Corvus "ordered" the Skeleton Key back into his soul. His lover looked disappointed at the relic leaving her sight before turning to stare at the Primarch, "Tell me, what can this key do?!"
"It can unlock and lock things on a physical, metaphysical, or conceptional level…or so the rest of Ravenloft and I believe."
Her eyes lit up further, "There are only a few things in this galaxy that could only hope to stop its power then! You can break into anything, anyone even, and do as you please!"
"Sachmis…"
Unfortunately, she was now lost in her own fantasy, "I can think of a hundred sites where you could find enough wealth and power to forge an entire empire on your own! This key is perfect for your combat style, and with my help, we can easily break in."
Oh dear, "Love, calm down." Corvus approached and gently grabbed her hands, "We aren't going to use the skeleton key for such things."
His response was met with a blank look from Sachmis, "What?"
"This is a dangerous tool that I don't know much about. I need to use it responsibly."
Upon hearing that response, Sachmis glared at him before speaking, "What kind of backward thinking is that?! Use it responsibly? What a joke! You're sitting on a tool that can make you king of a hundred thousand worlds, and instead, you've only used it in an attempt to steal a fucking shard of Khaine!"
"I thought you'd be the type to tell me that I shouldn't be using such power or something!"
"Do I look like a pretentious Asuryani?!" Sachmis was yelling now, "If you have power, you need to use it! Where is your blasted ambition?!"
Corvus glared at her, "I won't just randomly use a relic of this power just for the intention of getting rich!"
"Why not?!" Sachmis countered, "It's not like you are making money off this stupid research with Ravenloft! Oh, by the way, real subtle name, Corvus."
That felt like a kick to his ego, "It's clever."
"It's incriminating, is what it is, and for what? Research and development into the divinity and the gods? Once your Imperium hears about that, I'm sure they will completely understand the contents of a clandestine organization like that. And what has that yielded outside of the Skeleton Key?"
"Plenty." Corvus answered, "New technologies are already in development that will allow humanity and the Raven Guard access to new counter-measures against specific foes and technologies that can improve the Imperium."
She crossed her arms, "And what are those being rolled out?"
He didn't know. "Soon."
"And how much has this all cost you?"
Quite a lot. "An acceptable amount, especially when you consider the long-term yields."
This comment caused Sachmis to throw her hands up, "What is with you and your brothers and their blasted vanity mega-projects?"
Wincing at that comment, Corvus was keenly aware that Ravenloft didn't exactly make much in the way of money. That wasn't to say they didn't, though. To explain, Ravenloft made quite a bit of cash, but most of it went back into the organization to help sustain it.
Any long-term growth came right out of the Raven Guards' pocket. Davin and the Shrike Commission ensured that any money was cleaned and accounted for, but otherwise, Ravenloft was somewhat of a money sink. Corvus took solace in knowing that many of his brothers had expenditure problems, but the Ravenlord did not have the government breathing down his neck about it.
"I find it funny to hear you calling me and my kin out for vanity projects. I seem to recall me helping fiance a certain pirate empire…"
Sachmis laughed, "Which gives me a short and long-term investment return. Are you going to tell me Ravenloft is going to do exactly that? Because from the sound of it, you organized scholars, priests, and outlaws who will spend the rest of their lives looking over dusty tomes and examining artifacts that might as well be sold off to a collector."
She then rolled her eyes, "But fine, let's say this organization is that important to you. Instead of financing the damn thing completely out of pocket, you could use that all-powerful relic to go and steal a dozen fortunes."
"I told you, Sachmis, the power this key has is still unknown to us. It's untested."
"Then find some test subjects. I'm sure enough fools would be willing to try their luck in exchange for a fortune."
Corvus glared at Sachmis for a moment before speaking, "No."
"Tch." She gestured with her right hand, "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with all this?" Making another vague gesture, Corvus figured Sachmis was talking about all this research and exploration.
"Mankind's ancient gods are returning, along with new ones that have appeared within the last millennia. All of this is to say that there is untapped potential and danger for humanity, which must be examined and understood to use that power to survive against threats like Chaos and the Orks. After everything I've seen and learned, it's clear that this will come to pass one way or another. So as far as I am concerned, I plan to ensure this will be used for good."
This actually got a look of appreciation from Sachmis, "Well, I have to admit that is something that can be called suitable ambitious. You think you can actually tame these gods?"
"I'm not looking to tame anyone; rather, I want them as useful allies for humanity and to control their influence." Corvus knew enough that once the gods returned enmass, it would be chaos across humanity. But the answer to this problem wasn't just "kill" everyone and burn all the evidence. He knew enough that it would only destroy entire sectors and hundreds of trillions of deaths, weakening humanity and the Imperium.
"Besides, this information will go a long way towards elevating humanity to new and greater heights unmatched by technology and science alone. How else are we to control our future otherwise?"
Sachmis gave a very simple shrug before leaning back into her seat, "At this point, you've clearly made up your mind. So whether this is all just a sunk cost or you can pull through remains to be seen. I still think you are making several mistakes and not underutilizing that blasted relic of yours."
Rolling his eyes, Corvus accepted that Sachmis was at least coming around now, "Then can we please shift our focus toward what is going to happen on Venus?"
"I suppose that is crucial." Sachmis seemed interested enough, "You need it for me specifically because of the godseed?"
"Correct. Venus requires a sufficiently free spirit and one whose soul is full of passion and love."
Upon hearing that, Sachmis blinked, laughing uproariously, "You want me to come along because of my love? Isn't that just something out of a children's tale!" The tantalizing grin she gave Corvus set him on edge, "Do we need to both proclaim our love to each other? I do hope we need to have more physical component to that."
"C-can you take this seriously?"
"I am!" Sachmis chuckled, "But it's funny to me! A goddess of love needing the love of two people to…awaken her or it? Quite vague on your instructions, Corvus."
"Not exactly sure what will happen next time, but we must plan for it. Hence why we need to go over quite a bit." Finally, they could plan the second heist, but Sachmis suddenly stretched her arms and faked a yawn.
"Oh, but it's so late!" She gave him a cute look, "I'd hate to fall asleep while hearing it, but tonight was just a little business date…so I'll have to be going unless you don't mind me saying a bit longer."
The Primarch tried not to stare at her body as Sachmis started to stretch, "You know I can't…I'm busy tomorrow."
"So?" She gave him a smirk, "When has that ever stopped us?"
Weighing his options, Corvus needed to go over the plan's key points with her before they got distracted by another problem. That said, the Ravenlord had several dozen fires to put out still. Any free time he had available needed to be put towards them.
"I really can't…"
"Hmmm…" Sachmis gave him a pleading look, "Please…it's been so cold and lonely these last few nights."
"You were here three nights ago." Corvus barely remembered what they did after all the drinking, but he could imagine. "Also, you should invest in a nice blanket."
"I like natural heating more." She quipped back to him with a toothy smile, "So…? What's it gonna be?"
Corvus rubbed his face before answering, "Alright, fine, you can stay the night."
"Hah!" Sachmis cheered once.
"But you have to pay attention while we go over the plan, got it?"
This time, Sachmis snorted and crossed her arms, "You know, this wouldn't be such a problem for you if I just moved in with you."
He wasn't about to pull the pin on that particular grenade, "I'm not nearly drunk enough for that conversation, nor is it applicable here. So we are going to drop it." It didn't matter if you were just a common man or demigod; Corvus suspected almost every man had put off that particular decision as long as they could, whenever possible.
Sachmis sighed and shook her head, "Fine, fine. Let's get started, then. Walk me through the first steps of where this vault is hidden. What security details did you encounter, and what is our operational timetable?" This was the type of talk that Corvus loved hearing from Sachmis.
---
@Daemon Hunter Alright, a little more prep work for the heist.
Everything was starting to fall in place for the second heist; at least, that was what Corvus told himself. Such a vast conspiracy and plan had many moving parts to it, adding a host of complications and variables to consider. Naturally, the Ravenlord accounted for most.
There were, unfortunately, certain variables that Corvus could not control or even begin to predict happening. He had long since accepted the things that he couldn't manage and that there was an element of chance to these things. Nevertheless, the Primarch was still leery.
Especially when it came to one individual in particular, these days, Sachmis was the only person in this grand plot and conspiracy still in the dark about this. Corvus didn't see it as an issue, though. Their relationship had many secrets, and neither would agree to be completely "open" about their activities.
As far as Corvus was concerned, honesty meant not backstabbing or hindering the other through their actions. Anything involving Ravenloft or his Legion's operations had no bearing on whatever Sachmis got up to, and the same went for her.
But now, Corvus realized that he might have broken that unspoken agreement when he, Eldrad, and Cegorach determined she needed to recover the vault. It wasn't that they needed her approval (they didn't,) but Corvus wondered if dropping this on her wouldn't result in some pushback from the nascent Pirate Queen.
Then again, Eldrad and Cegorach probably figured any such thing would be directed exclusively to the Primarch. After all this time spent among the Eldar, Corvus learned they were quite an accomplished species when it came to leaving someone else holding a proverbial bag of shit when they didn't have to.
Regardless, Corvus recognized that it was time to explain why Sachmis was needed for the heist, which also meant clarifying the why. This meant disclosing certain pieces of information: Ravenloft, the Skeleton Key, and the knowledge gained on the divine.
When Corvus thought about how that conversation would go, he felt apprehensive. It was one thing to explain everything to his brothers or, gods forbid, the Emperor, but Corvus knew his lover intimately enough to understand that he had no idea how Sachmis would react.
And that was a terrifying prospect. Sometimes knowing how someone would or could react based on previous interactions made it far easier to predict the response, but even after everything the two lovers had been through…Corvus still had trouble reading Sachmis.
Corvus made sure never to tell her this. The last thing her ego needed was the idea that her cunning was on the level of outsmarting a Primarch. It wasn't. Rather, Corvus determined that having romantic feelings towards someone caused "unreasonable" perceptions of them.
Love complicates all things, for better and worse. Sachmis especially.
The plan was simple enough: Corvus invited Sachmis to dinner with him. Their "dates" became a bit more tame and wholesome, though it inevitably resulted in the pair ending the night sharing a bed and not sleeping until the early morning hours.
Still, it was an improvement from just drinking and fucking all the time. The Drukhari and Asuryani created this image of their societies being highly sophisticated or extravagant. Yet Corvus saw that they enjoyed doing the same things as most humans: Drinking, eating, dancing, fighting, sex, etc.
Even if they claimed it was "different" from the humans, Corvus found that their vices were rooted in the same desires as most species wanting to relax and have fun. The problem with the Dark Eldar was that their idea of fun was so distorted and vile that it was just a means to a twisted end.
By the gods' mercy and through repeated interactions with Corvus, his Drukhari lover seems to have abandoned the worst vices in favor of just drinking and casual sex. Perhaps that was a considerable accomplishment, but they were still equally exhausting activities in the mental sense.
Corvus was a busy Primarch, and he knew Sachmis was likewise handling quite a lot, so spending an entire night engaged in debauchery didn't necessarily feel conducive to their schedules. That wasn't to say that neither enjoyed being together, but Corvus didn't like how fast time seemed to pass without him even noticing.
It was just hard to say "no" sometimes. A worrying trend if Corvus was being honest with himself, as it meant the Primarch became predisposed to dawdle with Sachmis. Again, the problem came with refusing her…solicitations at night. It was far easier and enjoyable to just give in and burn away the night together.
Hence the innocence of these dates is so appealing to Corvus. He could easily work around a "commitment" that night and spend the rest of his time focusing on something pressing, like compliance or diplomatic matter. Sachmis wasn't exactly happy, but it wasn't like they were doing anything particularly fun.
As such, one of these dates would be a good point to start the discussion. No reason to bring up the issue of religion and gods before or after drinking and sex. Tonight was already going to be a rather fantastic series of revaluations.
If there was one thing that Corvus knew about Sachmis, it was that whenever the opportunity to have fun with the Primarch presented itself, she came practically running. Corvus had to wait only a few hours for her to arrive at his room. These days the pair had methods for moving about either ship without getting seen. Granted, stopping the rumors from floating around was becoming increasingly difficult.
Because in the end, something had inevitably slipped out that the Primarch was seeing someone in his chambers. How that information got out was still being investigated, but Corvus suspected that one of the Aeldari told someone, and a rumor got around.
Gossip on ships, even Astartes vessels, made good time and distance, especially regarding relationships. For some reason, humans and Eldar shared an affinity to talk about who was sleeping with who because it was far too entertaining to ignore.
Sachmis didn't care. If anything, she was probably ready to brag about sleeping with one of the Primarchs. Corvus wasn't prepared to talk about his love life. He already got grilled enough from Roboute back on Orus. Strange as it was, Corvus liked this aspect of Sachmis because she wanted others to know that she was perhaps the only person in the galaxy to make Corvus Corax happy.
Corvus was still trying to come to terms with that bit.
When Sachmis finally arrived outside his room, she appeared, as always, dressed in something a bit too revealing but equally dangerous. Her face was similarly bemused and excited as she sauntered in, making herself comfortable.
Sitting on a chair and crossing her legs, Sachmis said, "You should've called for me yesterday; I had more free time then." The open invitation was familiar, but Corvus had prior engagements this week.
"Been busy." As he poured some sparkling water for her, Corvus remarked, "Wish I could say tonight was just pleasure, but it will have to be a mix of it and business."
"Tch." Sachmis scoffed upon hearing, "To my people, mixing business and pleasure means they are planning on getting you killed, but only after dinner and a show." Taking the glass, she sipped and glanced at him expectantly.
Corvus shrugged, "I'm sure many people would prefer dying if they got a nice meal before it all ended." How many people would knowingly die and get nothing for all their trouble? A tragic tale repeated across a hundred thousand worlds.
"I'd prefer not to die full stomach or otherwise." She replied to Corvus, "But I digress; I take it we are just here to eat and chat?"
"Something like that." Corvus had a small spread laid out on a table. "I need to talk to you about a serious matter. The same one that brought you into my service in the first place."
She got a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Oh, right. Stealing that Shard of Khaine and whatnot. Even after you explained it to me, you skipped out on details."
"There was a reason for that." Corvus sat at the table, "And we can go over it later, but for now, let's eat." He gestured to the assortment of human food. He had been slowly trying to get Sachmis to partake in such delicacies. His girlfriend was a picky eater.
Human food was either too bland or salty for her. On the other hand, Sachmis did find a few dishes to be palpable, especially if they involved some sort of alcohol component. So a stew soaked in red wine or risotto with a white was what she liked.
For this dinner, Corvus made a Grox Steak that had been soaking in blood and wine for the last ten hours. It took a pair of skilled hands and a sharp mind to stop the meat from being ruined, but it was simple enough.
"Obviously, the topic for tonight is going to be something you think will anger or annoy me." Sachmis asked as she sliced into her steak, tearing off a bloody piece, "Because you only ever spoil me to stop a potential outburst."
Corvus didn't look at Sachmis as he ate some steak, "Am I wrong to think otherwise?"
"No." Sachmis amusedly said, "I think it's cute that you believe you know enough to predict what I may or may not do in any situation."
The Ravenlord only scoffed before sipping his wine, "You are predictable, Sachmis. Just not in ways you think about. Like your predisposition to signal your ire by twirling things in your fingers. It's a nervous tick."
Now it was her turn to scoff, "Aeldari do not have such things. Your mind is just creating illusions to justify certain actions or responses." Corvus smirked behind his goblet at hearing the annoyance in her voice. Sachmis pretended to be unflappable in everything, even when Corvus knew that wasn't the case.
He couldn't help but counter by saying, "And your mind has a selective memory of things. Whenever you are displeased about something, all the little things you do are almost cute in their own way. Like how you pout whenever you don't get your favorite dessert."
This got a response in the form of a blush and glare from his lover, "I do not pout."
"You are so a poutter." Corvus enjoyed doing this too much, but the little things kept their engagement. Soon the two of them were "arguing" about who had the most noticeable tells or ticks whenever they got annoyed or angry.
Neither of them even realized how the conversation turned into a farcical and absurd discussion or that by the time they finished dinner, they were both chuckling at one remark or another. A smooth transition to dessert allowed Corvus to get the conversation back on track.
"What do you know about the gods or the divine?"
Rather than be deterred or confused by the question, Sachmis merely scoffed while eating her tiramisu, "Plenty enough to know they are, at best, bothersome, and at worst, meddlesome. I never worshiped them. Most of our kind didn't during the Old Empire."
"And that clearly didn't change even after meeting Cegorach." Even during her brief stint as a Harlequin, Corvus knew that Sachmis had zero reverence or tolerance for the Laughing God.
Taking a sip of her wine, Sachmis gave Corvus a wary glance, "There is reason Drukhari call upon the Dark Muses. They were the first of our kind that achieved greatness and separated from the Craftworlders. Even though their actions are still relatively recent, their consequences are felt across the Ashen City."
Corvus needed to investigate the Dark Muses at some point. "But you don't worship them either."
A dark glare was directed toward Corvus from Sachmis, "I worship myself, Corvus." She gave him a pervasive smile, "Although I seem to be on my knees quite a bit whenever I am with you…"
Ignoring the warm feeling in his neck, Corvus continued, "Putting that aside, you still haven't told me what you know about gods and divinity."
She shrugged, "It's a power that isn't within my grasp. As such, I don't care for it. The so-called Great Enemy matters not to me either. I know better than to accept their gifts. After all, the Warp is so fickle and often untrustworthy."
Corvus nodded, slightly relieved to hear that. "You remember that we are trying to secure a Shard of Khaine, but you don't seem to give much stock towards its importance."
This time, Sachmis laughed, "Oh yes, the Bloody Handed God. As if I would ever give such a being praise. Kaela Mensha Khaine…what a bastard. Feared and respected by all, but unloved and hated. He and Cegorach are the exact things that showcase why gods are such precarious and unreliable entities."
Hearing such a skeptical take from Sachmis was enlightening. Then again, Corvus had to remind himself that her arrogance and insecurities drove this. Her anti-authoritarian streak and lust for power likely made Sachmis averse to anyone with more power than her.
"Why all these questions, Corvus?" Sachmis idly asked as she finished her dessert. "The Asuryani have the means to secure the shard, so I doubt either of us will have an issue getting it out of some vault."
"It's just some vault." Corvus remarked after a moment, "It's a Shell for a Godseed."
"Godseed?" Sachmis looked confused, "And a…shell? Is that some sort of description used for a specific defense mechanism you humans use?"
Idly tapping his right finger on the table, Corvus looked at Sachmis, "What I'm about to tell you is something that must be kept between the two of us, love."
She narrowed her eyes briefly before a glimmer of amusement appeared, "Oh…oh my! Am I about to hear one of your precious secrets? I do hope it's a scandalous one!"
"This is serious, Sachmis."
"I know!" She giggled at his equally serious expression, "You made me dinner and called me 'love' without being prompted. A tried and true tactic to gently prepare your significant other for something important. So predictable."
The nerve of this woman. "Considering what I need to discuss, I felt it prudent to ease you into the conversation."
She waved him off, "Yes, yes, you are helping me prepare for the stunning revelation you are about to reveal." Sachmis sipped some wine, "Will this take the rest of the night? I'd like to burn off dinner with our usual nocturnal activities."
"Hmm…" Corvus sounded displeased, "This is serious, Sachmis."
Hearing the tone in her lover's voice, Sachmis sighed and set down her wine glass, "Fine. If you aren't rising to my teasing, it must be important to whatever is in store for me. I withhold any further ridicule until after you finish."
This will have to do. At least Sachmis was taking this seriously now. Corvus sat back down and figured the best place to start was what prompted him to create Ravenloft—namely, the idea of faith and its power upon the warp.
Several hours later…
How does one explain the lessons one learns while looking into the nature of gods and the divine? Corvus found it easiest to help the other conceptualize such things. Divinity was, on paper, an outrageous complex subject but framed in such ways that one could comprehend the purpose.
As such, explaining it to his lover was easy enough. Sachmis was a dangerous, intelligent, and cunning woman. Hence the Ravenlord didn't need to dumb anything down for her. So Corvus took the time to explain as much as he could.
Perhaps more frightening was once Sachmis got over her initial confusion and dismissal and started paying attention, she was quiet for the rest of the talk. Asking only a few questions before letting Corvus explain things.
By the time he circled back around to the issues on the heist of Venus, Sachmis had a look of stoic contemplation. Corvus could figure the gears were turning in her head, wondering how exactly they were expected to secure the vault, godseed, and the shard in one go.
"So, you have a divine relic? Akin to the Ulieth Orioss? One that you made with the help of that Lord of Gears, who I thought was some pet machine intelligence but is actually a god and literal divine matter found from the birth site of another god that your pet organization found?"
"Yes."
Sachmis nodded before asking, "Can I see this Skeleton Key?" Corvus briefly weighed the options of showing it to her but figured he told her this much already. Summoning forth the key from his soul, the divine relic appeared and basked the room in an ethereal glow.
The former Archon suddenly stood and stared at the key with stunned amazement in her eyes and what Corvus saw as wanton greed.
"Incredible." Sachmis whispered under her breath before Corvus "ordered" the Skeleton Key back into his soul. His lover looked disappointed at the relic leaving her sight before turning to stare at the Primarch, "Tell me, what can this key do?!"
"It can unlock and lock things on a physical, metaphysical, or conceptional level…or so the rest of Ravenloft and I believe."
Her eyes lit up further, "There are only a few things in this galaxy that could only hope to stop its power then! You can break into anything, anyone even, and do as you please!"
"Sachmis…"
Unfortunately, she was now lost in her own fantasy, "I can think of a hundred sites where you could find enough wealth and power to forge an entire empire on your own! This key is perfect for your combat style, and with my help, we can easily break in."
Oh dear, "Love, calm down." Corvus approached and gently grabbed her hands, "We aren't going to use the skeleton key for such things."
His response was met with a blank look from Sachmis, "What?"
"This is a dangerous tool that I don't know much about. I need to use it responsibly."
Upon hearing that response, Sachmis glared at him before speaking, "What kind of backward thinking is that?! Use it responsibly? What a joke! You're sitting on a tool that can make you king of a hundred thousand worlds, and instead, you've only used it in an attempt to steal a fucking shard of Khaine!"
"I thought you'd be the type to tell me that I shouldn't be using such power or something!"
"Do I look like a pretentious Asuryani?!" Sachmis was yelling now, "If you have power, you need to use it! Where is your blasted ambition?!"
Corvus glared at her, "I won't just randomly use a relic of this power just for the intention of getting rich!"
"Why not?!" Sachmis countered, "It's not like you are making money off this stupid research with Ravenloft! Oh, by the way, real subtle name, Corvus."
That felt like a kick to his ego, "It's clever."
"It's incriminating, is what it is, and for what? Research and development into the divinity and the gods? Once your Imperium hears about that, I'm sure they will completely understand the contents of a clandestine organization like that. And what has that yielded outside of the Skeleton Key?"
"Plenty." Corvus answered, "New technologies are already in development that will allow humanity and the Raven Guard access to new counter-measures against specific foes and technologies that can improve the Imperium."
She crossed her arms, "And what are those being rolled out?"
He didn't know. "Soon."
"And how much has this all cost you?"
Quite a lot. "An acceptable amount, especially when you consider the long-term yields."
This comment caused Sachmis to throw her hands up, "What is with you and your brothers and their blasted vanity mega-projects?"
Wincing at that comment, Corvus was keenly aware that Ravenloft didn't exactly make much in the way of money. That wasn't to say they didn't, though. To explain, Ravenloft made quite a bit of cash, but most of it went back into the organization to help sustain it.
Any long-term growth came right out of the Raven Guards' pocket. Davin and the Shrike Commission ensured that any money was cleaned and accounted for, but otherwise, Ravenloft was somewhat of a money sink. Corvus took solace in knowing that many of his brothers had expenditure problems, but the Ravenlord did not have the government breathing down his neck about it.
"I find it funny to hear you calling me and my kin out for vanity projects. I seem to recall me helping fiance a certain pirate empire…"
Sachmis laughed, "Which gives me a short and long-term investment return. Are you going to tell me Ravenloft is going to do exactly that? Because from the sound of it, you organized scholars, priests, and outlaws who will spend the rest of their lives looking over dusty tomes and examining artifacts that might as well be sold off to a collector."
She then rolled her eyes, "But fine, let's say this organization is that important to you. Instead of financing the damn thing completely out of pocket, you could use that all-powerful relic to go and steal a dozen fortunes."
"I told you, Sachmis, the power this key has is still unknown to us. It's untested."
"Then find some test subjects. I'm sure enough fools would be willing to try their luck in exchange for a fortune."
Corvus glared at Sachmis for a moment before speaking, "No."
"Tch." She gestured with her right hand, "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with all this?" Making another vague gesture, Corvus figured Sachmis was talking about all this research and exploration.
"Mankind's ancient gods are returning, along with new ones that have appeared within the last millennia. All of this is to say that there is untapped potential and danger for humanity, which must be examined and understood to use that power to survive against threats like Chaos and the Orks. After everything I've seen and learned, it's clear that this will come to pass one way or another. So as far as I am concerned, I plan to ensure this will be used for good."
This actually got a look of appreciation from Sachmis, "Well, I have to admit that is something that can be called suitable ambitious. You think you can actually tame these gods?"
"I'm not looking to tame anyone; rather, I want them as useful allies for humanity and to control their influence." Corvus knew enough that once the gods returned enmass, it would be chaos across humanity. But the answer to this problem wasn't just "kill" everyone and burn all the evidence. He knew enough that it would only destroy entire sectors and hundreds of trillions of deaths, weakening humanity and the Imperium.
"Besides, this information will go a long way towards elevating humanity to new and greater heights unmatched by technology and science alone. How else are we to control our future otherwise?"
Sachmis gave a very simple shrug before leaning back into her seat, "At this point, you've clearly made up your mind. So whether this is all just a sunk cost or you can pull through remains to be seen. I still think you are making several mistakes and not underutilizing that blasted relic of yours."
Rolling his eyes, Corvus accepted that Sachmis was at least coming around now, "Then can we please shift our focus toward what is going to happen on Venus?"
"I suppose that is crucial." Sachmis seemed interested enough, "You need it for me specifically because of the godseed?"
"Correct. Venus requires a sufficiently free spirit and one whose soul is full of passion and love."
Upon hearing that, Sachmis blinked, laughing uproariously, "You want me to come along because of my love? Isn't that just something out of a children's tale!" The tantalizing grin she gave Corvus set him on edge, "Do we need to both proclaim our love to each other? I do hope we need to have more physical component to that."
"C-can you take this seriously?"
"I am!" Sachmis chuckled, "But it's funny to me! A goddess of love needing the love of two people to…awaken her or it? Quite vague on your instructions, Corvus."
"Not exactly sure what will happen next time, but we must plan for it. Hence why we need to go over quite a bit." Finally, they could plan the second heist, but Sachmis suddenly stretched her arms and faked a yawn.
"Oh, but it's so late!" She gave him a cute look, "I'd hate to fall asleep while hearing it, but tonight was just a little business date…so I'll have to be going unless you don't mind me saying a bit longer."
The Primarch tried not to stare at her body as Sachmis started to stretch, "You know I can't…I'm busy tomorrow."
"So?" She gave him a smirk, "When has that ever stopped us?"
Weighing his options, Corvus needed to go over the plan's key points with her before they got distracted by another problem. That said, the Ravenlord had several dozen fires to put out still. Any free time he had available needed to be put towards them.
"I really can't…"
"Hmmm…" Sachmis gave him a pleading look, "Please…it's been so cold and lonely these last few nights."
"You were here three nights ago." Corvus barely remembered what they did after all the drinking, but he could imagine. "Also, you should invest in a nice blanket."
"I like natural heating more." She quipped back to him with a toothy smile, "So…? What's it gonna be?"
Corvus rubbed his face before answering, "Alright, fine, you can stay the night."
"Hah!" Sachmis cheered once.
"But you have to pay attention while we go over the plan, got it?"
This time, Sachmis snorted and crossed her arms, "You know, this wouldn't be such a problem for you if I just moved in with you."
He wasn't about to pull the pin on that particular grenade, "I'm not nearly drunk enough for that conversation, nor is it applicable here. So we are going to drop it." It didn't matter if you were just a common man or demigod; Corvus suspected almost every man had put off that particular decision as long as they could, whenever possible.
Sachmis sighed and shook her head, "Fine, fine. Let's get started, then. Walk me through the first steps of where this vault is hidden. What security details did you encounter, and what is our operational timetable?" This was the type of talk that Corvus loved hearing from Sachmis.
---
@Daemon Hunter Alright, a little more prep work for the heist.
Failed States
The topic of this omake is rather interesting. There was a discussion on Discord last night over the possibility of failure involving the second heist and Daemon mentioned a lot of crazy shit that can happen. It should be noted, however, that a lot of the truly fantastical stuff is rather difficult to see come about via dice rolls. A mundane obstacle is far more likely to be the biggest problem.
However, the potential for crazy shit is possible. This omake only briefly covers a few aspects of the possible insanity.
Failed States
It was safe to say that failure was an omnipresent threat to everything. Eldrad Ulthran knew that much about the universe. Thankfully, he had enough insight and wisdom to determine different failure states. Strange as it sounds, many of his greatest victories originated from the failings of others.
Once someone understood there were various states of failures, they could readjust accordingly or even reshape them into successes. In other words, making an opportunity out of them. An old human saying applied in this instance, "When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade."
A quaint expression, just like so many other sayings found across humanity, but Eldrad had found himself being able to make "lemonade" on multiple occasions. A sufficiently capable mind would see minor or middling failures as the chance to readjust or retry later, ultimately working off the assumption that everything had been merely a setback in the grand scheme of things.
Sometimes you even had to take the loss for what it was, knowing it would result in greater victory months, decades, or even centuries later. Perspective was vital in these instances. It wasn't enough to just see the end result but to recognize and realize all possible avenues that came after—turning a singular defeat into many victories.
However, some failed states were impossible to walk back from, but those remained few and in-between—a small mercy but one that wouldn't always be available. The Aeldari couldn't afford colossal disasters. Not even the humans could now. Too much was at stake, especially with the resources and time put into these heists.
Try as Eldrad might, he saw only the best path to victory through the Primarch. Considering Corvus Corax's lengths to ensure success, Eldrad found no other viable options save for sending a Phoenix Lord to retrieve the damn vault on Venus. But the Emperor of Mankind's xenophobia and power would run the risk of him discovering someone like Karandras, which would trigger an incident between their nations.
The Primarch should be the one to get caught, then. If nothing else, Corvus Corax could always go rogue and hide among the Webway and Black Library. None of his brothers would come after him, nor would the Imperium seek him out. Yet, if they heard of an Eldar plot in Sol? No, Eldrad knew better.
Never allow for failure to become something worse. Especially when you could apply basic common sense. Once again, perspective and insight mattered more than anything. Hence, Eldrad was paying so much attention to the second heist on Venus.
Eldrad actually dedicated exactly six hours on this day towards viewing all possible failed states rather than trying to determine the best possible outcome. When it came to success, you could allow fate to decide on it.
As far as Eldrad was concerned, all that mattered was getting the blasted shard of Khaine back into his hands. Anything good that came after is considered a bonus to him. But the Great Seer needed to know what possible risks or hindrances remained in store.
His mind's eye gazed deep into the webs and rivers of time and space, allowing Eldrad Ulthran to peer into the Sol System and focus on Venus. There his "eyes" began to see the first instances of the failed states.
…A patrol vessel stumbling upon the Night Phoenix…
…An Alpha Legion operative notices a chance in ship traffic…
…A Mechanicum station noticing a change in gravity in one region near Venus…
Eldrad saw a hundred other such instances. Minor failures could come about for the most mundane or unexpected reasons. He took a moment to concentrate on the most likely outcomes and would warn the Primarch to respond accordingly.
Soon the Great Seers' gaze lingered upon where the prize lay; the vault of House Haillenarte. In the massive 20-kilometer estate and grounds, deep within the artificial floating land, sat the Haillenarte Vault, ultimately the Godseed of Venus in disguise.
Eldrad found only a little amusement whenever he saw humanity (or any other species) sitting completely unaware of the works of something great or terrible.
The notion of men using the Godseed to store their little treasures and victories would have made the Great Seer laugh if not knowing that his own people had once readily used the old temples and shrines of their gods for equally petty or profane purposes before the Fall. The gods of the galaxy, save for a few outliers, were treated poorly by mortals.
In this, the scions of House Fortemp and Haillenarte continued to wage their shadow war against one another, each unaware of the treasures that their mother had collected. Eldrad Ulthran now knew that Serah Haillenarte had the blood of a Venusian Sultana in her veins but took that secret to the grave. Eldrad would honor this woman's wish, refusing to disclose the knowledge even to the Primarch.
Regardless, Eldrad reviewed the defense of this place and saw the possible failed states that came along with it.
…A house servant, late for dinner, seeing figures stalking through the shadows…
…A new house guard, eager to please her superiors, pays extra attention…
…Aurvael Haillenarte decides to look upon the treasures of his late mother…
Equally mundane or easily avoidable, but still capable of resulting in a failed state if not taken seriously. Most would be aghast to know that some of the greatest endeavors had been undone because someone was in the right place at the wrong time or because a nobody decided to take things seriously. The little-forgotten heroes of their day always undid the works of gods and kings.
Taking a few key notes and observations, Eldrad focused on the vault itself. And this is where things started getting difficult…and concerning. It had been some time since the Great Seer had looked or heard the whispers of the warp emanating from it. Eldrad, nonetheless, ignored them to instead focus on a future time and place.
Corvus had remarked that he would attempt the heist on Heart Day. This information, backed by research from the Harlequins and Ravenloft, allowed the Great Seer to hone in on a particular day. Along with a detailed schedule and time for when Corvus's group would attempt to secure the vault, it gave Eldrad an exact point to concentrate.
At a specific point in time in a familiar place and with souls and hearts aligned to it…at this moment, Eldrad Ulthran gazed upon an endless series of divergent points. Tragically, he saw far too many failures amongst the seams and rivers of this moment.
…The birth of Venus was incomplete. What appeared was a creature born of hatred and sorrow, the Banshee. A battle would ensue. The Shell would fail, and the Shard of Khaine secured…
…Khaine's wraith would be unleashed from the Vault. In doing so, a burning phantom of Blood and Iron wields a crimson fire blade. A battle would ensue. Sachmis would be gravely wounded…
…Venus would be resurrected and placed within her Shell, but lacking a heart would become violent and anemic. The Godseed would burn itself to a final death…
Eldrad frowned at seeing such things. These were not the worst outcomes. Such details gleamed at a glance, which was worrying. He knew that playing with the powers of two gods was dangerous, but these results were tame compared to other visions he began to notice.
…The Skeleton Key had done something to change the ritual. Venus and Khaine started to merge into one being. The Godseed and Shard feeding their collective misery and disdain, blooming into something completely unseen in this galaxy. The Shell took on this new Godseed, and when it awoke, it called itself Ferretrix, the God of Storms, Iron, and Murder. Ferretrix is unable to be killed and promptly escapes into the Warp…
…A warp resonance cascade goes off. The Godseed becomes one with the local warp system and becomes a living being of the warp. The Shard of Khaine, in turn, is irreversibly changed and becomes an elemental of storms and war. It jumps from warzone to warzone from the minds of wary soldiers and civilians. The Emperor of Mankind will spend the next year destroying the new godseed within his domain…
…Unable to contain the power of the Vault, the Shell assumes control of the Night Phoenix and becomes an organic vessel that absorbs the Godseed and Shard. Small mercy in that it doesn't kill the crew, but the ship is now a mobile god of the materium. In time, it will produce offspring that prowl the warp lanes, destroying any ship corrupted by the immaterium regardless of circumstance…
Upon seeing these fantastical futures, Eldrad merely scoffed. Such possibilities were real but also incredibly unlikely. And while he had learned his lesson repeatedly, not tempting fate and whatnot, the Great Seer knew enough that the galaxy rarely allowed such wonderful or terrible things to come to pass without sufficient reasoning.
And with that in mind, Eldrad shifted his attention towards the most likely outcomes: the ritual simply failing or something like a warp storm forming: equally devastating setbacks but realistic results. Not everything ended glamorously.
Keeping all that in mind, Eldrad spent the next few hours trying to cut through all the noise and identify the most likely obstacles Corvus's group would encounter. It was exceedingly difficult due to the nature of this event and the complexity of the ritual, but before long, the Great Seer identified at least 95 possibilities that had the greatest chance of coming to pass.
None of this was to say that Eldrad ensured success for Corvus and his team. There were likely thousands of failed states that went unnoticed even by the Great Seer. All he could do was see and confirm what he saw and relay it back. Every little contribution helped.
Even so, the whims of fate were odd and precarious. Contrivances that would always laugh in the face of men and gods. The unknown and unseen, often hiding right in front of one's face, and none but the most powerful of minds could hope to see such truths. Eldrad Ulthran thought himself at least capable enough to no longer become surprised when attempting to understand such concepts.
Yet as he prepared to pull his vision away from the vault and Venus, Eldrad saw something appear briefly within the seams and rivers of time and space. It took him a moment to focus on what he saw, like a scientist trying to get a microscope just right to see clearly.
Within a space and moment that could be generously described as a moment caught on film, Eldrad Ulthran narrowed his eyes and saw what appeared to be the Skeleton Key. This was…unexpected, perhaps even quite impossible.
No, that wasn't entirely true. The Skeleton Key was an integral part of the prophecy and vision of the second heist and was a divine relic. It had weight and power, perhaps even some semblance of autonomy, but Eldrad knew that no object, regardless of its make, could have such an impact on a singular event.
However, Eldrad reminded himself even that wasn't true. Hundreds of objects of power lay within the hands of individuals that could change the course of history. He knew that much involving the Primarchs. But in those instances, Eldrad could see the threads tracing back to the individuals in question.
But while Eldrad saw the thread to Corvus Corax from the Skeleton Key, the Great Seer also saw the most startling thing.
A fog surrounded the Skeleton Key, obscuring the Great Seer's ability to see the future of the Key itself. This was…impossible. Even Eldrad could see the Emperor of Mankind's fate if he was brazen enough to try, but even that window of opportunity was fading away namely, as the man was becoming a god.
Because the fate of a god was often difficult to ascertain, often times it ran quite a few risks. In those instances, Eldrad Ulthran had to mentally and physically prepare himself to ensure no harm would come to him. The gods had so many layered defenses to prevent those like Eldrad from seeing their future as a means to counteract their machinations.
So why, then, was the Skeleton Key's fate difficult to see? Eldrad needed to investigate. He had already seen too many visions of it being directly responsible for a hundred failed states or successes to assume this wasn't related.
He concentrated, summoning forth the power of the Black Library to aid him as his vision attempted to pierce the fog surrounding the Skeleton Key. His mind strained against it, but the divine relic was still no match for Eldrad Ulthran. Ultimately, the Great Seer caught what looked to be glimpses of the Skeleton Key's future.
…Nothing was out of reach of Portunus. All doors and locks opened before him. The unreachable became accessible. He knew the path for those that called upon his power, wayfarers and travelers, thieves and rogues, sailors and captains. The God of Doors, Keys, and Ports would not be stopped…
…No fortress or bastion could stop her. Errorum knew all secrets but also how to exploit them. Cunning and clever, unpredictable and chaotic, those who worshipped her gained her fortune and curse. She had been born of a mistake—a goddess of Secrets, Exploitation, and Mistakes. In time, those that called upon her would fall victim as well…
…Cordis saw into the hearts of men and wept. Like brittle glass, reflections of dark but hopeful desires became clear to her. The Goddess of Glass, Sight, and Hearts, she saw only among the keystones the depravity of others. Yet she still found honest hearts, those filled with love and compassion, and those who sought to do good…
Before Eldrad could hope to have examined this further, the fog gathered its strength and pushed the Great Seer away. Cursing under his breath, Eldrad attempted to pierce the fog once more but was rebuffed. Seeing the situation for what it was and not wanting to waste more time on it, he stopped his attempts and contemplated what he saw.
Those were a few of the futures regarding the Skeleton Key: the possible ascension to full godhood that awaited it. The damn thing was evolving at an accelerated rate. This was why Vaul never gave his creations the spark of divinity to prevent something like this from happening.
Eldrad had to remind himself that humanity was a species that often wished to spread its influence and seed through various means. First, it had been through people and culture, then through great colonies and machines, and now it seemed that someday it might be relics and gods.
Regardless, this development was worrisome. The Skeleton Key was likely aware, or at least becoming self-aware to a certain extent. While Eldrad doubted the possibility of it sabotaging the heist, he needed to take some steps to ensure that it might not come to pass. If the Key had anything similar to ambition, it stands to reason it might attempt something.
Strangely, the vision of Cordis, Errorum, and Portunus hinted at the potential such a deity could bring in future wars and campaigns. Cegorach would most certainly find a use for such a god, as would Eldrad and Corvus. The Great Seer wouldn't have considered doing this in most other circumstances.
But times were changing, and the battles ahead would require new allies and tools to ensure lasting success. As with everything in his visions, he saw too many failed states to ignore. Time was running out, and soon the galaxy would need every advantage available.
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@Daemon Hunter Alright, just another quick omake.
However, the potential for crazy shit is possible. This omake only briefly covers a few aspects of the possible insanity.
Failed States
It was safe to say that failure was an omnipresent threat to everything. Eldrad Ulthran knew that much about the universe. Thankfully, he had enough insight and wisdom to determine different failure states. Strange as it sounds, many of his greatest victories originated from the failings of others.
Once someone understood there were various states of failures, they could readjust accordingly or even reshape them into successes. In other words, making an opportunity out of them. An old human saying applied in this instance, "When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade."
A quaint expression, just like so many other sayings found across humanity, but Eldrad had found himself being able to make "lemonade" on multiple occasions. A sufficiently capable mind would see minor or middling failures as the chance to readjust or retry later, ultimately working off the assumption that everything had been merely a setback in the grand scheme of things.
Sometimes you even had to take the loss for what it was, knowing it would result in greater victory months, decades, or even centuries later. Perspective was vital in these instances. It wasn't enough to just see the end result but to recognize and realize all possible avenues that came after—turning a singular defeat into many victories.
However, some failed states were impossible to walk back from, but those remained few and in-between—a small mercy but one that wouldn't always be available. The Aeldari couldn't afford colossal disasters. Not even the humans could now. Too much was at stake, especially with the resources and time put into these heists.
Try as Eldrad might, he saw only the best path to victory through the Primarch. Considering Corvus Corax's lengths to ensure success, Eldrad found no other viable options save for sending a Phoenix Lord to retrieve the damn vault on Venus. But the Emperor of Mankind's xenophobia and power would run the risk of him discovering someone like Karandras, which would trigger an incident between their nations.
The Primarch should be the one to get caught, then. If nothing else, Corvus Corax could always go rogue and hide among the Webway and Black Library. None of his brothers would come after him, nor would the Imperium seek him out. Yet, if they heard of an Eldar plot in Sol? No, Eldrad knew better.
Never allow for failure to become something worse. Especially when you could apply basic common sense. Once again, perspective and insight mattered more than anything. Hence, Eldrad was paying so much attention to the second heist on Venus.
Eldrad actually dedicated exactly six hours on this day towards viewing all possible failed states rather than trying to determine the best possible outcome. When it came to success, you could allow fate to decide on it.
As far as Eldrad was concerned, all that mattered was getting the blasted shard of Khaine back into his hands. Anything good that came after is considered a bonus to him. But the Great Seer needed to know what possible risks or hindrances remained in store.
His mind's eye gazed deep into the webs and rivers of time and space, allowing Eldrad Ulthran to peer into the Sol System and focus on Venus. There his "eyes" began to see the first instances of the failed states.
…A patrol vessel stumbling upon the Night Phoenix…
…An Alpha Legion operative notices a chance in ship traffic…
…A Mechanicum station noticing a change in gravity in one region near Venus…
Eldrad saw a hundred other such instances. Minor failures could come about for the most mundane or unexpected reasons. He took a moment to concentrate on the most likely outcomes and would warn the Primarch to respond accordingly.
Soon the Great Seers' gaze lingered upon where the prize lay; the vault of House Haillenarte. In the massive 20-kilometer estate and grounds, deep within the artificial floating land, sat the Haillenarte Vault, ultimately the Godseed of Venus in disguise.
Eldrad found only a little amusement whenever he saw humanity (or any other species) sitting completely unaware of the works of something great or terrible.
The notion of men using the Godseed to store their little treasures and victories would have made the Great Seer laugh if not knowing that his own people had once readily used the old temples and shrines of their gods for equally petty or profane purposes before the Fall. The gods of the galaxy, save for a few outliers, were treated poorly by mortals.
In this, the scions of House Fortemp and Haillenarte continued to wage their shadow war against one another, each unaware of the treasures that their mother had collected. Eldrad Ulthran now knew that Serah Haillenarte had the blood of a Venusian Sultana in her veins but took that secret to the grave. Eldrad would honor this woman's wish, refusing to disclose the knowledge even to the Primarch.
Regardless, Eldrad reviewed the defense of this place and saw the possible failed states that came along with it.
…A house servant, late for dinner, seeing figures stalking through the shadows…
…A new house guard, eager to please her superiors, pays extra attention…
…Aurvael Haillenarte decides to look upon the treasures of his late mother…
Equally mundane or easily avoidable, but still capable of resulting in a failed state if not taken seriously. Most would be aghast to know that some of the greatest endeavors had been undone because someone was in the right place at the wrong time or because a nobody decided to take things seriously. The little-forgotten heroes of their day always undid the works of gods and kings.
Taking a few key notes and observations, Eldrad focused on the vault itself. And this is where things started getting difficult…and concerning. It had been some time since the Great Seer had looked or heard the whispers of the warp emanating from it. Eldrad, nonetheless, ignored them to instead focus on a future time and place.
Corvus had remarked that he would attempt the heist on Heart Day. This information, backed by research from the Harlequins and Ravenloft, allowed the Great Seer to hone in on a particular day. Along with a detailed schedule and time for when Corvus's group would attempt to secure the vault, it gave Eldrad an exact point to concentrate.
At a specific point in time in a familiar place and with souls and hearts aligned to it…at this moment, Eldrad Ulthran gazed upon an endless series of divergent points. Tragically, he saw far too many failures amongst the seams and rivers of this moment.
…The birth of Venus was incomplete. What appeared was a creature born of hatred and sorrow, the Banshee. A battle would ensue. The Shell would fail, and the Shard of Khaine secured…
…Khaine's wraith would be unleashed from the Vault. In doing so, a burning phantom of Blood and Iron wields a crimson fire blade. A battle would ensue. Sachmis would be gravely wounded…
…Venus would be resurrected and placed within her Shell, but lacking a heart would become violent and anemic. The Godseed would burn itself to a final death…
Eldrad frowned at seeing such things. These were not the worst outcomes. Such details gleamed at a glance, which was worrying. He knew that playing with the powers of two gods was dangerous, but these results were tame compared to other visions he began to notice.
…The Skeleton Key had done something to change the ritual. Venus and Khaine started to merge into one being. The Godseed and Shard feeding their collective misery and disdain, blooming into something completely unseen in this galaxy. The Shell took on this new Godseed, and when it awoke, it called itself Ferretrix, the God of Storms, Iron, and Murder. Ferretrix is unable to be killed and promptly escapes into the Warp…
…A warp resonance cascade goes off. The Godseed becomes one with the local warp system and becomes a living being of the warp. The Shard of Khaine, in turn, is irreversibly changed and becomes an elemental of storms and war. It jumps from warzone to warzone from the minds of wary soldiers and civilians. The Emperor of Mankind will spend the next year destroying the new godseed within his domain…
…Unable to contain the power of the Vault, the Shell assumes control of the Night Phoenix and becomes an organic vessel that absorbs the Godseed and Shard. Small mercy in that it doesn't kill the crew, but the ship is now a mobile god of the materium. In time, it will produce offspring that prowl the warp lanes, destroying any ship corrupted by the immaterium regardless of circumstance…
Upon seeing these fantastical futures, Eldrad merely scoffed. Such possibilities were real but also incredibly unlikely. And while he had learned his lesson repeatedly, not tempting fate and whatnot, the Great Seer knew enough that the galaxy rarely allowed such wonderful or terrible things to come to pass without sufficient reasoning.
And with that in mind, Eldrad shifted his attention towards the most likely outcomes: the ritual simply failing or something like a warp storm forming: equally devastating setbacks but realistic results. Not everything ended glamorously.
Keeping all that in mind, Eldrad spent the next few hours trying to cut through all the noise and identify the most likely obstacles Corvus's group would encounter. It was exceedingly difficult due to the nature of this event and the complexity of the ritual, but before long, the Great Seer identified at least 95 possibilities that had the greatest chance of coming to pass.
None of this was to say that Eldrad ensured success for Corvus and his team. There were likely thousands of failed states that went unnoticed even by the Great Seer. All he could do was see and confirm what he saw and relay it back. Every little contribution helped.
Even so, the whims of fate were odd and precarious. Contrivances that would always laugh in the face of men and gods. The unknown and unseen, often hiding right in front of one's face, and none but the most powerful of minds could hope to see such truths. Eldrad Ulthran thought himself at least capable enough to no longer become surprised when attempting to understand such concepts.
Yet as he prepared to pull his vision away from the vault and Venus, Eldrad saw something appear briefly within the seams and rivers of time and space. It took him a moment to focus on what he saw, like a scientist trying to get a microscope just right to see clearly.
Within a space and moment that could be generously described as a moment caught on film, Eldrad Ulthran narrowed his eyes and saw what appeared to be the Skeleton Key. This was…unexpected, perhaps even quite impossible.
No, that wasn't entirely true. The Skeleton Key was an integral part of the prophecy and vision of the second heist and was a divine relic. It had weight and power, perhaps even some semblance of autonomy, but Eldrad knew that no object, regardless of its make, could have such an impact on a singular event.
However, Eldrad reminded himself even that wasn't true. Hundreds of objects of power lay within the hands of individuals that could change the course of history. He knew that much involving the Primarchs. But in those instances, Eldrad could see the threads tracing back to the individuals in question.
But while Eldrad saw the thread to Corvus Corax from the Skeleton Key, the Great Seer also saw the most startling thing.
A fog surrounded the Skeleton Key, obscuring the Great Seer's ability to see the future of the Key itself. This was…impossible. Even Eldrad could see the Emperor of Mankind's fate if he was brazen enough to try, but even that window of opportunity was fading away namely, as the man was becoming a god.
Because the fate of a god was often difficult to ascertain, often times it ran quite a few risks. In those instances, Eldrad Ulthran had to mentally and physically prepare himself to ensure no harm would come to him. The gods had so many layered defenses to prevent those like Eldrad from seeing their future as a means to counteract their machinations.
So why, then, was the Skeleton Key's fate difficult to see? Eldrad needed to investigate. He had already seen too many visions of it being directly responsible for a hundred failed states or successes to assume this wasn't related.
He concentrated, summoning forth the power of the Black Library to aid him as his vision attempted to pierce the fog surrounding the Skeleton Key. His mind strained against it, but the divine relic was still no match for Eldrad Ulthran. Ultimately, the Great Seer caught what looked to be glimpses of the Skeleton Key's future.
…Nothing was out of reach of Portunus. All doors and locks opened before him. The unreachable became accessible. He knew the path for those that called upon his power, wayfarers and travelers, thieves and rogues, sailors and captains. The God of Doors, Keys, and Ports would not be stopped…
…No fortress or bastion could stop her. Errorum knew all secrets but also how to exploit them. Cunning and clever, unpredictable and chaotic, those who worshipped her gained her fortune and curse. She had been born of a mistake—a goddess of Secrets, Exploitation, and Mistakes. In time, those that called upon her would fall victim as well…
…Cordis saw into the hearts of men and wept. Like brittle glass, reflections of dark but hopeful desires became clear to her. The Goddess of Glass, Sight, and Hearts, she saw only among the keystones the depravity of others. Yet she still found honest hearts, those filled with love and compassion, and those who sought to do good…
Before Eldrad could hope to have examined this further, the fog gathered its strength and pushed the Great Seer away. Cursing under his breath, Eldrad attempted to pierce the fog once more but was rebuffed. Seeing the situation for what it was and not wanting to waste more time on it, he stopped his attempts and contemplated what he saw.
Those were a few of the futures regarding the Skeleton Key: the possible ascension to full godhood that awaited it. The damn thing was evolving at an accelerated rate. This was why Vaul never gave his creations the spark of divinity to prevent something like this from happening.
Eldrad had to remind himself that humanity was a species that often wished to spread its influence and seed through various means. First, it had been through people and culture, then through great colonies and machines, and now it seemed that someday it might be relics and gods.
Regardless, this development was worrisome. The Skeleton Key was likely aware, or at least becoming self-aware to a certain extent. While Eldrad doubted the possibility of it sabotaging the heist, he needed to take some steps to ensure that it might not come to pass. If the Key had anything similar to ambition, it stands to reason it might attempt something.
Strangely, the vision of Cordis, Errorum, and Portunus hinted at the potential such a deity could bring in future wars and campaigns. Cegorach would most certainly find a use for such a god, as would Eldrad and Corvus. The Great Seer wouldn't have considered doing this in most other circumstances.
But times were changing, and the battles ahead would require new allies and tools to ensure lasting success. As with everything in his visions, he saw too many failed states to ignore. Time was running out, and soon the galaxy would need every advantage available.
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@Daemon Hunter Alright, just another quick omake.
So....rolls are happening, and the themesong for the dice results can be accurately summed up with...this
View: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ap1yngdhyIY
View: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ap1yngdhyIY
Sigh, is this going to be worse than that unironic help that led to Kesar saving a bunch of Catholics from having to get a talk with the Atheist preachers?
No, No I do not. I only remember that, because of just how much of a whiplash it was, between the Kesar part, and the Corvus and Gulliman part.
As for that comparison, the moment I gathered enough from the Quest, that someone had Corvus decide to try and steal something from somewhere, and Kesar acting like the most perfect stooge from that threadmark as mentioned above, it well, kinda went hand in hand, you know?
Edit: Sorry if I'm coming off as irritable. I hate it when important events are hidden from the viewers on anything that isn't already exclusive, and considering how this thread seems to feel on spoilers from Discord, I'm guessing unless someone actually says what it is, no one is going to explain what has happened with Corvus?
As for that comparison, the moment I gathered enough from the Quest, that someone had Corvus decide to try and steal something from somewhere, and Kesar acting like the most perfect stooge from that threadmark as mentioned above, it well, kinda went hand in hand, you know?
Edit: Sorry if I'm coming off as irritable. I hate it when important events are hidden from the viewers on anything that isn't already exclusive, and considering how this thread seems to feel on spoilers from Discord, I'm guessing unless someone actually says what it is, no one is going to explain what has happened with Corvus?
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