Nothing else tried to attack Orion and the others as they started placing the explosives around the reactor. The Nymphs hadn't appeared, nor did any more servitors. Lareca had given its last attempt to delay the end and failed. This place would be destroyed one way or another before the day's end.
All that remained was whatever awaited them at Terminal Amrita. Orion was under no illusion about what might have awaited them there. The possibility of a daemon hadn't been verified yet, but he wouldn't take any chances.
Once all the explosives were placed, the quartet readied themselves for the terminal. The map indicated a way to go and required the group to traverse further down into the bowels of Lareca, a rather ominous walk in this place.
Before the group began their march, Orion turned to the three of them. "I believe it prudent to air a concern of mine. The situation we face with Ambrosia, based on the evidence we were given, there is a strong possibility that her remains are corrupted by an entity from the Warp."
"An entity from the Warp?" Estrith was confused, "Do you mean to tell me that the Warp has something akin to fauna, which means there is an ecosystem?"
Orion nodded, although he wouldn't call such hellscapes anything like a naturally occurring ecosystem, "It's a bit more complicated than that, and I wouldn't classify such entities as being anything akin to animals. The predators that lie within the warp have an intelligence that is both calculating and profane."
Ramuh merely nodded. The White Scars psyker already knew the truth about the warp from his kin and probably from his own experiences on Chogoris. Kuveer simply raised an eyebrow at the explanation.
"So you think some entity gained control over the body of Ambrosia. For what purpose?"
Orion grimaced, "I don't recommend trying to decipher why. That way leads to madness and corruption. And I don't know if this is a daemon, but psykers tend to be the biggest targets for what my legion calls Daemons."
Estrith looked concerned, "Can daemons be killed?"
"They can, but truly killing them requires a specific skill set, weapon, or power." Orion knew enough about true slaying daemons that if it came down to it, he'd have the best chance of killing any sort of creature that might have been controlling Ambrosia.
Kuveer was curious, "How dangerous are these things?"
"It depends on the daemon in question. A lesser daemon can be 'killed' by a platoon with enough weapons aimed at it. The truly powerful, though? Many can kill entire companies of Astartes or an entire regiment or even destroy an entire world."
Ramuh snorted, "Thankfully, if it was a daemon of that caliber, we'd have bigger problems. I don't know if we are dealing with such filth, but I can confirm that something has happened here, and we must kill it." The White Scars certainly had a big enough grudge against Chaos after all their losses in the Ritual War.
Kuveer merely shrugged, "I'll take your word for it." Estrith, meanwhile, looked a bit uncomfortable at the prospect of fighting something that powerful.
She finally spoke, "If we encounter a 'daemon,' can you kill it, Orion? Truly kill it, I mean?"
Orion nodded, "I can." He wrestled control of Aquisgranum after killing Kurin-Morak. If the Knight-Warden had to repeat the same feat here, he would do so with confidence.
"Good," Estrith spoke with resolve. "Because anything that resides here will die for good. Especially if it poses a threat to Elegia. Whatever it takes, Orion."
The Knight-Warden smirked, "Whatever it takes."
With the charges primed and the detonator in hand, the group stood at the precipice of their final endeavor. Terminal Amrita beckoned, albeit on the other side of the facility. It would be a destination fraught with uncertainty. As they embarked on this last leg of their journey, the true extent of the facility's decay became all too apparent.
The once-grand halls and chambers that had housed the ambitions of the Adamantium Compact now lay in ruins, their splendor eroded by the ravages of time and neglect. The echoes of past brilliance and vaunted strength mingled with the creaks of collapsing frames, a haunting testament to the facility's gradual descent into desolation and its resolve to stay intact in the face of time.
Guided by their map, the group navigated the broken labyrinthine corridors and passages. The flickering lights cast distorted shadows, painting an almost eerie preservation of a time from five centuries ago. The Compact must have made all its decisions in this facility.
Yet as they ventured deeper, the very essence of Lareca appeared to mutate. The vines that had wound their way through the facility took on an otherworldly trait. Almost like they were breathing now. The grey secretion that once clung to the walls had transmuted into a noxious black substance reminiscent of tar oozing from a breach into the very earth.
Estrith couldn't help but look through her scope and reported seeing things floating around as part of an unseen environment. Kuveer and Ramuh felt the warp churning and rolling off these walls and floors. As if Orion didn't need another reason to burn this place to the ground.
Ramuh couldn't help but feel something was wrong, "This place…it isn't fighting us, but it feels like it's been denied its death. Lareca wants to die. Or should I say, Amborisa wants that release."
The group pressed on, each step taking them deeper into the heart of this corrupted labyrinth. The air grew thick with oppressive energy, a miasma that seemed to linger like a malevolent presence. As Terminal Amrita drew closer, Orion saw what looked to be the skeletal remains of other people. Perhaps not everyone had escaped the facility in time when the Unfaded pulled out.
Orion still felt no sympathy. That was the fate of men that experimented on psykers and tried peering into the abyss. Someone blinked at the right time. Now it was up to warriors like the Astartes to clean up their mistakes. Not just here but across the entire galaxy.
So be it.
As they finally reached what appeared to be the heavily guarded entrance to Terminal Amrita, it was evident that the corruption had seeped even into this once-restricted area. Massive, gnarled vines had burst forth from below, entwining around the entrance as if attempting to reclaim the chamber for nature's grasp. Remnants of cocoon-like structures clung to the walls and ceiling, a haunting testament to the aberrant metamorphosis that had taken place here. Strangely, all the cocoons were now vacant, their contents seemingly set free.
"Down we go," Ramuh's voice carried an air of grim determination as the lift descended into the depths of this twisted sanctum. As the darkness enveloped them, Orion's thoughts turned to the absence of the Nymphs. Why hadn't they intervened or set traps like the servitors had done on their way to the reactor?
The descent seemed to stretch on a journey into an abyssal unknown. As the lift finally reached its destination, the group stepped out into Terminal Amrita, and the full extent of the corruption was laid bare before them. The chamber was a nightmarish tableau, a sprawling expanse that defied the boundaries of reality itself. Once organized and purposeful, massive containers and vats now stood in contorted disarray, their contents emitting an eerie, sickly glow reminiscent of volatile plasma.
Estrith's untrained eyes peering through her scope winced as if struck by an unseen force. The colors and shapes that emanated from the chamber seemed to assault her senses, an assault of unnatural hues and forms that bore witness to the warped nature of this place.
Sinuous cables and vines of alien design sprawled like malevolent serpents across the chamber, intertwining with machinery and structures in a perverse dance of corruption. The walls were inscribed with symbols and writing, though now they appeared more chaotic and feverish as if etched by a madman's hand. Oddly, the remnants of the cocoons were omnipresent, hanging like grotesque ornaments from the structures and vines.
Orion's gaze fell upon these cocoon-like growths, dozens suspended throughout the chamber. It was an unsettling sight, like a manifestation of Nurgle's foul infestation. But amid this macabre scenery, there was no sign of Ambrosia.
Turning his attention to Kuveer and Ramuh, he noted the discomfort in their voices. Both psykers confirmed that this was indeed the epicenter of the warp contamination, a place suffused with a malevolent miasma that seemed to seep into the air they breathed. Despite their rebreathers offering protection, Orion couldn't help but worry about the lingering taint that might affect his comrades.
As they forged ahead, surrounded by the nightmarish amalgamation of wires, vines, and arcane symbols, Orion could only hope that the strength of their spirits would shield them from any lasting effects from Terminal Amrita. Best to end this as fast as possible. All they needed to do no was find Ambrosia.
But right as they stepped off the lift and onto the Terminal, the ground beneath began to shake, at least for a moment. Now what? A small answer came as the vines started to move, although it didn't seem to be in response to their arrival.
"So where would the Unfaded put our target?" Kuveer asked over vox, "They were trying to harvest Nectar and Ambrosia from her, so they'd want to keep her close to the vats."
Estrith glanced at Kuveer, "Can't you or Ramuh locate her?"
Ramuh shook his head, "Too much warp interference. Trying to pin down anything here is difficult."
Estrith only nodded, "That means we need to look around, but is it safe for us to be down here any longer than we have to?" Orion and the two psykers shook their heads. "Then what exactly can we do here?"
Orion was also trying to determine that, but while the laws of reality were twisted here, that didn't mean it was impossible to navigate this place. That was when Orion noticed what looked to be a series of pipes leading out from one of the vats toward another part of the Terminal.
"We follow the pipes. They'll lead us to the source of their contents." Technically he didn't know if that was the case, but it was a good assumption to be made here. None of his companions argued against this idea.
Traversing the corrupted expanse of Terminal Amrita remained arduous, each step marred by the clinging tar, uneven ground, scattered debris, and disorientation brought by lingering elements of the warp. Orion took the lead, his experience navigating warp-tainted environments back on Aquisgranum proving invaluable. Though their progress seemed measured in mere minutes, the sensation of time elongated as if the fabric of reality was contorted in this accursed place. Nonetheless, they pressed on, whether out of determination or desperation, remained to be seen.
Their perseverance began to pay off as a peculiar sight emerged amidst the twisted chaos. A grey techno-organic tree, an anomaly amidst the corrupted surroundings, stood as a sentinel in the heart of the Terminal. With its towering presence rivaling an Imperial Knight, the tree seemed inappropriate with the rest of this place, but with the warp, anything was possible.
"Spirits of the Plains, are you kidding me?" Ramuh's incredulous voice echoed through the chamber as their eyes fell upon the massive tree. "I wasn't expecting to see that."
Orion's response was far more restrained, "I don't think any of us were." The group cautiously approached the enigmatic tree, its form possessing an eerie blend of organic growth and mechanical intricacy. Curiously, despite its clearly warp-contaminated nature, it exhibited an unsettling semblance of vitality, standing as a twisted testament to the grotesque artistry of the Immaterium.
As the group moved closer, their attention was drawn to the tangled pipes that converged toward the tree's base. This had to be it. Yet, even as their pursuit drew them nearer to what should have been the epicenter of the Nymphs' devotion, the question persisted: where were the Nymphs? The records from the servitor colony had documented their reverence for Ambrosia's body, So why were they allowing intruders to approach her final resting place unhindered?
Drawing close enough to examine the twisted tree, the group's gaze shifted to the tragic tableau at its center — the grim fate that had befallen Ambrosia. This poor woman's body had become inextricably fused with the grotesque amalgamation of flesh and machinery, a hideous altar to the perversion that had taken root within Terminal Amrita.
Time and the warp had not been kind to her remains; her body had long since decayed into a skeletal relic, obscured by layers of tar and remnants of the Nectar that had once coursed through her veins. Ambrosia had been given no dignity or relief in life or death. She had become one with the tree. The writing had ceased, save for something written in Elegian low gothic: My blood for Elegia. My life for our future. Orion didn't want to imagine what had gone through her mind when she realized that her blood had been used to bring only further misery upon their homeworld. But given that she had started to haunt Lareca, Ambrosia likely already knew.
Estrith stared at the figure silently while Kuveerlooked at Orion expectantly, "So, what now?"
He hefted up Humility. There was only one thing to do. Ramuh, however, stopped him. "Wait, I believe performing a last rite here might be prudent."
Kuveer sounded appalled at the idea, "Are you serious? The longer we stay down, the more likely we risk being attacked by the Nymphs or getting exposed to whatever vile diseases are here. I'd like to help this woman's spirit pass on, but it's not worth exposing ourselves to such risk."
Orion had to agree with Kuveer. The warp was churning in this place, and further exposure would be potentially damning for one of them. There was a time and place for rituals, but not in a hostile environment.
"I agree with Ramuh." Estrith suddenly said, "Look, I don't know what the hells is going on here, but I think we can't just destroy this…thing unless we are absolutely sure. My instincts tell me that consideration for her spirit will do us some good in this instance."
Kuveer didn't argue against it, merely throwing up his right hand in a "whatever you say" gesture. Orion was left to make the decision. He took a moment to consider their options, and while he most certainly did not want to linger, his instincts told him that destroying this blasted tree won't resolve the current issue. Still, was going through these motions absolutely necessary?
Jaghatai Khan had warned the Knight-Warden that not all battles could be won by gun and sword, that sometimes a more nuanced and often overlooked solution to truly defeating your enemy lies in the most unlikely of places, often within oneself. While Humility hummed for destruction, Orion needed to play this differently.
So be it. "Make it swift then, Ramuh. If we are going to end this, we might as well do it right."
It was actually quite amazing to watch Ramuh begin his ritual. Orion had never really seen a Stormseer perform their own warp manipulation, especially for giving the last rites, but once again, the White Scars proved that fast didn't necessarily come at the cost of efficiency.
Ramuh used his twin hammers as conduits for the ritual, channeling the warp directly into the body of what was once Amborisa. The tree seemed to shake and churn as if caught in a great storm, and Terminal Amrita also began quaking. If Orion didn't better, he'd have written it off as a coincidence.
"Either the tree, Amborisa, or something else is aware of what is happening here." Orion warned the others, "Anything can happen at this point. Be ready." The positioning of the group, nestled beneath the towering presence of the techno-organic tree, afforded a tactical advantage — a crucial foothold in this enigmatic place of convergence. With their backs metaphorically shielded by the remnants of Ambrosia's twisted form, they held a semblance of security within the unfolding maelstrom of warp-infused energies.
Kuveer made a barricade out of discarded metal and rockcrete. The issue was that Orion didn't think a static defense would do any of them much good here. Worse yet, the Knight-Warden could see fog overtaking much of the Terminal. As if this situation couldn't worsen, Estrith suddenly said she heard a voice.
"Orion?" Estrith was looking around, "I can hear someone talking to me. A woman's voice." She then got an intense look on her face, "She says the adherents are coming!"
While that information likely meant the Nymphs were coming, Orion was more concerned that a daemon was speaking to her, "Ignore that voice!" If only he had a Null Rod on hand, "Kuveer, are you hearing anything as well?"
"No?" Kuveer looked confused, "If anything, my warp sense is being blinded and deafened by whatever the hell is happening around us. I can tell you that there is a significant build-up in our general vicinity. Take a wild guess where it's the strongest."
They poked something with their actions, and it was starting to awaken. Around this point, the three of them could see vague outlines of figures in the fog. "Ramuh, where are we at with this ritual being completed?!"
He didn't answer back. The Stormherald was speaking in the Chogoris tongue, likely chanting and conducting a passing rite to the spirit of Ambrosia. The tree continued to sway, and Orion could see it getting more intense. The wind around them was starting to pick up as well.
That was when the first attacks started raining down on their position. Bolts of sickly green energy and eerily blue lances shot out from the cover of the fog, causing everyone to drop behind their meager barricade before Estrith and Orion began to fire back with their respective weapons.
The targeting array in his helmet was trying to pinpoint where the attackers were, or at least where the shots came from, but it seemed to be distorted by the fog. Estrith, on the other hand, seemed to have no issues firing back, thanks to her Scope. However, she was certain that none of her bullets were hitting.
"This is impossible!" Estrith exclaimed as she got back into cover to reload, "It's like they are predicting every attack."
Remembering that these things were supposed to be anti-divination specialists, it would be a real bastard move to use precognition but deny their enemies from using it. However, that didn't mean they were untouchable. One of the best ways to nullify pre-cognition is to introduce unpredictability. If the enemy's foresight was based on extrapolating from current information, one could disrupt their ability to accurately predict future moves.
"Use more unpredictable tactics!" Orion advised over team-vox, "Much as I hate to say it, use instinct and reflex but don't give away your intentions."
Kuveer readied a few frag grenades as he retorted, "That's all well and good, but we can't even see them right now because of the fog!"
"Give it a second!" Estrith replied, "A storm has taken shape here. Ambrosia says to be ready to fight." Didn't he just tell her to ignore the damn voice? Regardless, Orion noticed that it was becoming incredibly windy now, and he looked up and saw an otherworldly stormcloud that seemed to grow larger by the second.
As Ramuh's incantations grew louder and the radiant aura around his hammers intensified, the very fabric of the warp seemed to respond, weaving around his form and intertwining with his purpose. Yet, an eerie reaction was taking place within the techno-organic tree. Its twisted branches creaked and groaned as if they bore the weight of unseen suffering, a disturbing harmony to the unfolding ritual.
Above them, a resounding boom shattered the air, a clap of thunder echoing through the chamber. Simultaneously, the atmosphere inside Terminal Amrita grew turbulent, as if the elements themselves were awakened by Ramuh's warp-wrought endeavors. Winds swirled with an unsettling force, sending debris, steel fragments, and remnants of long-forgotten machinery spiraling in a chaotic dance.
And then, the cocoons that clung to the walls and vines began to stir. Glowing with an uncanny light, they shuddered with energy, revealing indistinct forms within, figures suspended in a preternatural limbo. It was as if an entire army waited impatiently to be reborn into the world, emerging from their chrysalises to bring some sinister design to fruition.
But nature itself seemed to recoil against this aberration. Lightning, crackling and alive with the storm's wrath arced across the expanse. It struck with unerring precision, its blinding tendrils lancing through vats of unearthly substances, searing through intertwined vines, and igniting the rusted remains of ancient machines. Even the cocooned figures were not spared, their spectral forms wracked by the celestial fury.
And yet, in this tempestuous maelstrom, an island of relative calm persisted. The quartet stood within the eye of this ethereal storm, untouched by the searing lightning and swirling winds that raged around them. It was a moment of surreal contrast as the unfolding chaos seemed to bend and twist, respecting the space in which they stood.
Amid this otherworldly convergence, Ramuh's ritual continued his unwavering determination and control as an anchor against the surrounding bedlam. More importantly, it cleared up the fog permitting Orion and the others to identify their foes. It was indeed the same foes as before back in the maintenance bay.
Unfazed by the bewildering storm of events, the surviving Nymphs pressed forward with a chilling determination. The scene before them, marked by the charred remnants of their fallen comrades, did nothing to deter their fanatical advance. Their bodies seemed to move as extensions of their singular purpose, propelled by an eerie and unnatural coordination that defied reason.
Despite the toll taken by the unleashed lightning and the raging tempest, a dozen of these grotesque figures remained, their eyes aglow with a sinister fervor. As if stripped of all vestiges of their former humanity, they were driven solely by the imperative to protect their fallen "goddess" and eliminate any threats that dared to assail her resting place.
Their shots rang out, weapons unloading with a rhythm granted via warp-infused bio-technology that echoed throughout the battlefield. Bolts of energy and projectiles streaked through the air, carving paths of destruction toward the quartet's position. Yet, these attacks were met with the calculated precision of the defenders.
But even with this coordinated defense, the Nymphs dodged and weaved around the quartet's attacks with startling ease. As they closed the distance, their twisted forms distorted by the eerie radiance of the chamber, Kuveer decided to follow Orion's advice and be a little predictable. With a gesture, his geomantic power came alive, gathering up his remaining adamantium ball bearings and using the warp to mold them around a primed frag grenade, which he promptly tossed at one of the Nymphs.
Using its strange precognition, the Nymph dodged out of the way of what it thought was regular shrapnel. But the warp-infused ball bearings instantly break upon the explosive release, becoming fingernail-sized adamantium shrapnel. A violent eruption of concussive force enveloped the Nymph, and its form twisted and rent asunder by the unleashed fury of the explosion.
"That's one!" Kuveer called out as he pulled out his saber in one hand and his monofilament wires in the other, "But that's all I got."
A trio of Nymphs were laying suppressive fire now. The barricade was quickly getting overwhelmed, unable to withstand this barrage for too much longer. Estrith, who had been trying to line up a shot, seemed to be waiting for the opportunity to shoot. Unfortunately, the remaining Nymphs were only a few dozen meters away.
Just then, Orion got an idea, "Estrith, I'll create an opening for your attack!" Humility burned bright red as he stood, unleashing a horizontal wave of conversion energy toward the charging Nymph line. Unfortunately, this was quite predictable for the creatures, who could skillfully duck, jump, or dodge the attack.
The two that jumped made a fatal mistake…a few seconds later, a pair of shots rang out, and each had a fist-sized hole in their head. Estrith landed two perfect headshots, thanks mostly to the Scope but also because the Nymphs couldn't change their directions in the air. Precognition didn't do you much good if you could not physically respond in time.
Three down, but still plenty more were left standing. Once they got even closer, Orion saw the Nymphs pulling out what he thought to be some sort of organ which was then tossed toward the barricade.
"Get out of cover!" Orion roared as the organ bombs landed on their barricades with a sickening squelch before they started to loudly screech and then promptly exploded into a hellish mix of acid and fire. Kuveer and Estrith got out of the way, but Orion saw his right arm had been covered with this putrid substance. Thankfully his power armor protected him from the worst of it, but it was now on fire.
The Knight-Warden didn't care, instead tossing a pair of frag grenades at the Nymphs to dissuade them from continuing after that little stunt. It was to no avail. The situation was starting to look quite bad. Their cover was gone, several Nymphs were still firing on their position, and a squad worth was about to be directly on them.
At that moment, though, the situation completely went mad. The ground beneath all their feet began to violently shake. The Nymphs stopped their advance and seemed to stare upon the tree of Ambrosia even as vines and cables the size of tanks started bursting out of the floor and ceiling, all while the storm that Ramuh created surged overhead.
Estrith seemed equally confused, "What do you mean it's waking up?" She asked aloud before the Elegian looked at Orion, "I think Ramuh just did something else while trying to help Ambrosia!"
The Knight-Warden wondered if Space Marines were just cursed to deal with unexpected nightmare scenarios in what should have been otherwise simple missions. Kuveer used this opportunity to charge one of the enthralled Nymphs with his saber. Orion realizing he was missing an opportunity here, tried aiming Humility toward the group firing on their position.
He didn't get the chance to fire. A few seconds later, Ramuh suddenly yelled over vox that another presence had been felt in this tree before Terminal Amrita seemed to shudder and break apart. Orion felt the floor beneath him suddenly lift, and the Knight-Warden and everyone else seemed tossed right up into the air.
But what goes up will ultimately come back down. Everyone thrown up in the air had only gone up a few meters. However, that was enough to put all of them out of place, especially as the environment below radically shifted. Especially as the ground started looking quite unnatural and uneven.
The battlefield had turned into a literal quagmire as overgrown roots, twisted vines and cables, broken stone and metal, and now small rivers of Nectar flowing across the broken terminal turned a relatively controlled skirmish into a frenzied and chaotic free-for-all.
All the while, the tree began to twist itself into something foul…
Kuveer had a habit of landing on his feet. An ability granted through superior training and control over the earth, metal, and all things that came from the soil. As his feet met the uneven ground, his agile form swiftly adjusted to the new terrain. The rapid approach of two Nymphs demanded his immediate attention, their uncanny speed, and precision a stark reminder of the warp-borne enhancements that set them apart from mere mortals.
Comparing their movements to the deliberate grace of the White Scars, Kuveer couldn't help but acknowledge the eerie advantage these foes possessed. Their bio-organic modifications, granted by the Unfaded or Compact, had elevated them to an entirely different league. The Gemlord silently noted the wide spectrum of enhancements they exhibited: bio-organic weaponry, warp-assisted foresight, resistance against divination, and an unnaturally augmented physiology.
Still, the Gemlord wasn't completely outclassed. He still had his weapons, power,s and, more importantly, his mind. Unfortunately, this was a battle of martial prowess, and Kuveer didn't like engaging in close-quarters combat. It wasn't that he was incapable or without his tricks, but his experience tended to favor fighting in more controlled environments and often never within knife-fighting range like he was in now.
Nevertheless, the Gemlord held his own. Better yet, his saber seemed to be aiding him quite substantially. It seemed to react accordingly to Kuveers desires, using him as a conduit to harass and impede the Nymphs by utilizing nearby pieces of metal or stone to fling, trip, or pierce to use against his attackers. This sword was unlike anything he had seen; even among the Imperials, they had no such technology or a relic.
Many warriors talked about their signature weapon being an extension of themselves, but this saber seemed to be the real deal. To his embarrassment, the only difficulty wielding it was that Kuveer wasn't a good swordfighter. His focus was on his geomancy, leadership skills, and monofilament weapon.
And while his monofilament wires were aiding him here, they wouldn't be what Kuveer uses to kill these bastards. His powers over earth and metal gave him the necessary edge in this fight, but he was one wrong move away from getting skewered or pierced. Orion said that the best way to defeat them was through unpredictable methods of attacks.
Kuveer winced as one of the plasma blades briefly hit his right arm. Thankfully a piece of metal nicked the Nymph's head in time to cause the attack to go off-course. He knew enough that their precognition wasn't perfect, especially if there were enough stuff hassling them.
Kuveer's calculated moves unfolded seamlessly as he harnessed his geomantic prowess to gain the upper hand. As the two Nymphs closed in, their plasma blades humming dangerously, Kuveer's mind raced with swift tactical calculations. With a focused burst of energy, he channeled the warp into the ground beneath him, causing several pieces of rebar to spring to life, hurtling toward the approaching foes. The unexpected assault forced the Nymphs to momentarily backtrack, providing Kuveer with a crucial opening.
Drawing upon his remaining ball bearings, Kuveer hurled them skyward. His geomantic control guided their paths as they descended in a lethal rain of projectiles. The Nymphs were caught off guard, their precognitive senses momentarily confounded as they desperately maneuvered to evade the onslaught.
But Kuveer was far from finished. Seizing the moment, he surged forward, his determination fueling his next daring move. With another surge of warp-infused energy, he shaped a pillar of solid stone beneath his right foot, propelling himself with enhanced speed and momentum toward one of the Nymphs. His saber gleamed with deadly intent as he brought it down in a lethal arc, targeting his adversary's head.
In a startling display of agility, the Nymph executed a rapid backflip, narrowly evading Kuveer's blade. Yet fate had a different plan. As the Nymph recoiled, its right arm extended instinctively to steady itself, only to become ensnared in Kuveer's waiting monofilament wire. With a deft and practiced motion, Kuveer yanked the wire taut, pulling the Nymph's arm back and causing it to collide forcefully with his awaiting blade.
The Gemlord's strike found its mark, the monofilament edge cutting through the Nymph's arm with sickening precision while the saber easily went through its chest. A visceral spray of ichor and sparks erupted from the wounds as the Nymph uttered a shrill, agonized shriek. Kuveer's calculated maneuvers had turned the tide in his battle, leaving one of the Nymphs incapacitated and dying in pain.
So these things do feel pain. Unfortunately, he didn't have long to celebrate his victory before the remaining Nymph sought to avenge its kin. Kuveer acted instinctually and used his saber to try and parry the plasma…and was surprised to see it worked. Sadly, this didn't stop the other blade the Nymph had from suddenly striking his stomach.
Kuveer balked in pain. His chest armor protected much of his vital organs, but there was only so much layering near his abdomen. Luckily, his armor was much better than most, saving him from dying at that moment. However, this attack was debilitating; worse yet, he was in a life-or-death struggle. Well, more so than before.
The Nymph also wasn't letting up, refusing to even back away. It seemed to have learned the lesson from what happened to its kin. Kuveer's only real option was to prevent it from escaping, but that was easier said than done. This situation clearly favored the Nymph.
At least until Kuveer remembered something that might give him the win here. It might also kill him, though. First, he had to get into position. So while the Gemlord did what could be generously called a dual, the two struggling dualists fought as well they could through all the chaos until finally Kuveer found the best foundation afforded to him via his powers.
His armor was almost done for, though. It was a miracle that it lasted this long against the plasma blade. Kuveer tried every other trick possible to kill this damn Nymph, but it looked like it came to this point. So as the two tried dual in the muck and tar while the sky seemed to be falling, he used his monofilament to keep the damn thing in place as he dropped the saber and pulled out a detonator.
In all the schooling and training he received in life, Kuveer had been told never to do something as dumb as this. But he doubted any precog in the galaxy expected someone to blow themselves up in an attempt to defeat them. So as Kuveer pressed down the trigger, he sincerely hoped that "Front Facing Toward Enemy" on the anti-personnel mine he wore wasn't just for show.
The ground came a lot faster than Ramuh was expecting. Thankfully, he had already directed the warp to provide a gentle landing via his electromagnetism. Alas, the Stormherald landed in the middle of muck and tar amid the insanity in the terminal, and to aggravate the situation, he saw none of his companions.
Suffice it to say, Ramuh was quite displeased over what just happened. He was so sure that he had completed the ritual, but then he felt the feedback and realized that while nothing had gone wrong on his part, another force had awakened within the Terminal.
He didn't have long to focus on the development as a group of Nymphs were suddenly on him like flies on horseshit. A pair closed the distance while another two opened fire with their bio-weapons from a distance. The Stormherald's response was to merely channel an electromagnetic field around him before simply willing it to become pure static electricity.
Both his assailants ran headfirst into the field. It was amusing to watch them suddenly shake and tremble as the power coursed through their foul veins and appendages. Curiously, Ramuh wondered their precognition didn't seem through such an obvious trap.
Then he noticed the two Nymphs had primed several organ grenades, and the Stormherald realized too late that these were suicide bombers. A foul cloud of fire and acid covered the Astartes, but his power armor protected him again. His issue was that the remaining two Nymphs aimed and fired at him, hitting his left pauldron and leg.
It took considerable effort and strength for Ramuh to hold up the lightning gun with one arm and fire off a few more bolts and waves of lightning toward the bastards, and of course, they merely dodged his attacks. This wasn't good. While his wounds were neither fatal nor debilitating, they severely hampered his ability to fight back effectively.
His attempts to dodge or move into cover were also a problem. The muck and tar at his feet hindered his movement, and only a few broken pillars or stones might as well have been sandbags against a melta. Fighting defensively would only get him killed.
And in situations like this, the Warhawk would say that the best defense is a good offense. It was do or die. Just had to outclass and outsmart his opponents now. Ramuh pulled out the hyper-charged arc capacitors he had taken earlier and, with the strength given by his physiology and power armor, tossed them toward the Nymph gunners.
Before they landed, Ramuh fired the lightning gun at the capacitors. In the span of a second, they all but devoured the warp-directed energy and promptly exploded midair and over the gunners who were in the process of diving out of the way.
One was caught in the blast. It didn't kill or maim the Nymph, merely dazing it instead, but that was the opening that Ramuh needed. Channeling the warp again, Ramuh's hammers floated up beside him before being tossed at the Nymph, who skillfully dodged them.
Then Ramuh called the hammers back. Perhaps the Nymph didn't consider that if the psyker in front of it had the power to push objects, it could also pull. It would never have the chance to learn from this mistake as both hammers crashed into the back of its head, pulverizing whatever skull it might have had in that head.
No one quite understood how much control Ramuh had over these twin hammers. It was one of his most prized abilities, and all that training was starting to pay off. Still, one last foe remained, and he was out of tricks. In which case, his only recourse now was to brute force a solution.
"You can see into the future all you want," Ramuh muttered as his hammers hovered beside him on each side, "But let's see you dodge the storm." His power grew and swelled as the Stormherald pushed his limits. Above, the storm clouds remained and suddenly grew angry again.
The fearless and determined Nymph continued to fire upon the Stormherald. The attacks, however, were being weakened by the electromagnetic field Ramuh was generating, but some were still getting through, striking the Astartes in the chest several times but failing to pierce his body. If he were a mortal man, Ramuh would have died already. By all rights, he should have.
But you can't kill the tempest. Not when it sought the destruction of Ramuh's enemies. If the Nymph saw its future, it must have realized it was doomed. Yet to their credit, it kept firing on Ramuh even as a lance of warp-infused lightning struck it with enough force to shatter and cook a man inside Terminator armor.
In this instance, the Nymph was instead simply vaporized.
Ramuh won his battle, but his wounds and exhaustion made him kneel as he tried centering himself. He had never gone that far with his channeling, and it was embarrassing for one measly super-soldier.
Then he felt the tempest pass, replaced by something foul as Terminal Amrita slowly became one with the warp. This battle was far from over.
Clear Sky operatives were a breed apart, their training and innate enhancements crafting them into formidable operatives. Among them, Estrith exemplified their prowess as she hurtled towards the ground. Her descent was not a plummet but rather a controlled descent showcasing her mastery of agility. Her Ambrosia-enhanced physiology added an extra layer of finesse to her movements, allowing her to navigate the perilous situation with uncanny grace.
Anticipating the impact, Estrith's reflexes kicked in seamlessly. In a fluid motion, she retrieved a compact grapnel gun from her utility belt. With a sharp pull of the trigger, the grapnel launched with a muted whir, its slender cable arcing through the air to find purchase on the tallest structure within her reach.
The mechanism engaged with a reassuring click, and the cable tautened as Estrith's momentum was arrested. The sudden jolt threatened to dislocate her shoulder, but her training and Ambrosia-empowered resilience allowed her to weather the strain without faltering. As her downward trajectory shifted into a controlled swing, she expertly used the cable's tension to adjust her course and momentum, ensuring she landed with minimal impact.
The landing was anything but clumsy; it displayed precision and adaptability. She landed on top of a broken pillar. Due to only wearing an armored body glove, Estrith was spared having to drop down to the ground that was full of muck, which would have hindered her dexterity.
Her mind was still processing what the hell just happened; additionally, the voice of Ambrosia was still speaking to her. Estrith didn't believe in ghosts or daemons, but considering how psykers worked and everything that happened within the last couple of hours, she was starting to rethink everything.
None of that mattered, though. Ambrosia warned her that the "Tormentor" was slowly awakening. Estrith didn't know what to think but knew enough to return to Orion and the others. This whole situation had gotten out of control. The terminal was falling apart, and any Nymphs outside it were likely converging on it.
Speaking of which, Estrith saw five of the Compact's pet monsters moving toward her. The disgust she felt was only tempered by the accompanying pity toward them. They were amalgamations of every sin and tragedy that had befallen Elegia. Killing them was as much mercy to them as it was to the entire world.
Too bad they didn't feel the same way. They were already firing in Estriths direction, causing the former operative to jump to another platform while firing off a few rounds. Her new "scope" provides a staggering amount of information on top of the weirdness it showed her. It seemed to be calculating bullet trajectory at an unnatural speed or identifying structural weaknesses. This couldn't be normal technology. But Estrith wasn't about to turn down its usefulness. Not now, especially.
The Nymphs were a dangerous foe, though. If you shot at them, they simply dodged out of the way with their blasted precognition. Estrtih didn't want to try her luck getting into a close-quarters fight. She heard plenty of stories about their strength, and Ambrosia (the substance) enhanced one's strength to a peak human level.
But she might not have had a choice. As Estrith dodged, weaved, and parkoured around an ever-decreasing environment, she would have to start fighting them eventually. She had to play this smart. Throwing down one of her remaining smoke grenades and activating her cameleoline mesh, the former operative had a few moments of distraction. Even if the Nymphs, somehow, had no full spectrum scanning built into their suits, their precognition would still ensure that a shot through the smoke wouldn't be a killing blow.
Orion recommended that "unpredictable" attack patterns were the best way to handle beings that had divination. Which was all well and good, but Estrith didn't have much in the form of unpredictable attack patterns. It would take a miracle at this point. At least, that was what she thought until she saw through her scope.
Somehow, it created a predictive model for firing solution that would allow a bullet to ricochet off a nearby piece of adamantium into one of the Nymph's chests. Estrith had no idea how or why the Scope could calculate this trajectory, let alone have the wherewithal to do so, but she asked for a miracle; now it was time to see if it was one.
Estrith lined up the shot per the Scope coordinates and fired off a single manstopper round. In a few seconds, the bullet ricocheted off the adamantium, which hit a Nymph in the chest. The fact that it actually worked wasn't the impressive part, though. No, what briefly stunned Estrith was when the Nymph promptly exploded, taking it and three others with it in the blast.
Her shot must have hit one of those organ grenades. Granted, there must have been quite a few more on this particular Nymph to warrant such an explosion. How the hell did the scope know to make such a shot? That was beyond impossible. But then again, Estrith had seen a few impossible things.
Besides, she wasn't out of this situation yet. There was still one Nymph left. A single enemy might not have meant much to Orion or Ramuh, but Estrith knew the rumors and legends surrounding the Compact, the Hundred Masters, or the New Humanity Army and their respective super-soldier programs. They weren't pushovers. The Nymphs were also enhanced by whatever nightmare science used by the Unfaded.
So when the remaining Nymph swiftly charged her position and jumped up to the series of platforms Estrith had been moving across, the former operative realized it wouldn't allow her another chance to use her Scope. It was going to be a knife fight. That didn't stop her from firing off as many rounds as possible with her Mag Rifle.
To her surprise, the Scope could land a few glancing hits thanks to clever ricocheting and leading shots that seemed capable of vexing the Nymph's precognition. None, however, were able to land a killing blow. Her foe then made short work of crossing the distance as it "grew" plasma blades from its arms. Estrith barely had time to toss her mag rifle somewhere safe and pull out her pistol and power blade.
Estrith decided to simply "dance" across the platforms, taking shots at the Nymph while it chased her. Because the alternative was to engage in melee, which was a bad idea. This whole situation was bad. Chaotic and baffling as well.
Despite the situation's intensity, Estrith couldn't help but acknowledge the surreal nature of the battle. Ghost voices, impossible shots, and a dual amid this facility seemingly collapsing around them. If she and the others survived this, it would be one hell of a story to tell. Besides, she wasn't going to die here and leave Aelred alone.
This blasted Nymph wasn't going die quite easily, though. As Estrith continued her agile dance across the platforms, she could feel the intensity of the battle building. The Nymph pursued her relentlessly, its plasma blades hissing and crackling with energy. Estrith's heart raced as she analyzed the situation, her mind working to devise a strategy to give her an edge.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. Estrith spotted one of those techno-organic cables that had melded with one of the old machines. More importantly, it appeared to be loose. She dashed toward it. Seizing the cable and tugging it hard, causing the machinery to groan and emitting sparks. The Nymph's enhanced senses caught the movement, and it lunged at her with a burst of speed, aiming to catch her off guard.
But Estrith was prepared. As the Nymph closed in, she hurled the cable at it with all her strength, using the distraction to her advantage. The Nymph deflected the cable with one of its plasma blades, but that split-second hesitation was all Estrith needed. She altered her trajectory at the last moment, vaulting off a nearby platform and propelling herself towards the Nymph from an unexpected angle.
Caught off guard by Estrith's sudden change in direction, the Nymph's precognition faltered for only a nano-second. If it had been done by a normal human, it would have failed, but Estrith was enhanced to peak human levels. The Nymph tried to attack, but its plasma blades missed their mark as Estrith's power blade swung precisely, striking the Nymph's arm and severing one of its deadly appendages. The Nymph let out a guttural, unnatural howl of pain and fury, its psychic reflexes struggling to keep up with Estrith's erratic movements.
It seemed that precognition could falter if you allowed for multiple variations in a single moment to have the possibility of occurring. But the advantage wouldn't last for too long. With a final, unexpected burst of speed, Estrith instantly closed the distance between them. She had one final trick up her sleeve. A dangerous move but certainly unpredictable.
Estrith pulled out a web grenade and then tossed it at the feet of the Nymph just as she got close enough to finish her charge. In that second, her opponent must have seen that this ended either in the two of them getting caught in the webbing, to which Estrith would just blast the Nymph with her sidearm, or the Nymph dodged out of the way, but due to the limited spacing, it would either tumble to the ground or merely move back a few feet from the blast. Estrith would easily jump over the webbing to deliver a killing blow.
So rather than die with nothing to show, the Nymph stabbed itself with its blades. In that baffling moment, Estrith's brain realized that the creature started glowing and knew she had been caught by its own trick.
In an instant, it transformed into a makeshift bomb, the world around Estrith appearing to decelerate as time stretched. For a fleeting second, she contemplated that this might be her end. Fortunately, destiny had alternate plans. The Nymph, driven by its own assault, impaled itself and teetered on the brink of detonation. Yet, in a twist of fate, the very foundation beneath it yielded, giving way underfoot.
Although Estrith remained partially engulfed by the ensuing explosion, the sudden collapse of the Nymph's platform significantly diminished the impact's intensity. While her armor bore the scars of shrapnel and the searing heat of plasma, she clung to life.
Estrith swore as she fell to the ground and landed hard, but still alive. That was way too close for comfort. Still, any battle you could walk from alive only made you stronger. Speaking of which, she saw that there were no more enemies on approach. Best to go and find the others.
Orion braced himself for the fall. Unlike the others, he fell with all the grace of a brick but landed with limited issues. His most immediate problem was the familiar feeling of uneasiness from being close to the daemonic. It was an innate sensation born only through the connection with the Primarch and personal experience.
Lareca had become corrupted in more ways than one. Estrith was hearing of Ambrosia, the stones and metal of this place covered in the written word of a dead woman, and warp batteries and creatures all over this place like an infection. It didn't surprise him then this chamber would be the epicenter for a possible warp incursion.
So be it. If a creature of the Warp tried their luck to enter this realm, they would have to first survive an encounter with the Angel of Humility. The first thing was to reach the tree and purge it. Whether or not Ramuh's ritual succeeded no longer mattered. That vile thing had become the nucleus for this potential disaster.
He wanted to find the others, but his duty as an Eternal Warden compelled him to end the daemonic threat before it could reach its terrible conclusion. Besides, the others would have survived that minor hiccup with gravity. They will catch up.
The Knight-Warden began to head in the direction of the tree. He must have been tossed or thrown about 50 or so meters from it. An easy distance to cross if not for the muck, tar, debris, and what he soon identified as a group of Nymphs in the way. His objective was straightforward, but the hindrances were aplenty.
Whatever zeal possessed these blighted creatures would have been worth further investigation if Orion had the time or inclination to try. The Knight-Warden grimaced and grit his teeth as he sprinted toward the tree. If the Nymphs were ready to lay down their pathetic lives, or whatever constituted a life for these things, to defend what they thought was a god, then Orion would "humor" their slavish devotion by sending them to it.
Humility seemed to sense his eagerness. The Burning Blade glowed a stunning orange. Orion could see arcs of conversion energy dancing across the power field and the Terranic metal. The beast desired destruction. Already it had indulged itself against many of Lareca's defenders, but it wanted to destroy whatever nightmare was growing within Terminal Amrita.
Yet rather than unleash the energy in a lance or bolt, Orion stayed his hand and prepared himself for what was to come. As the Nymphs unleashed a hailstorm of plasma fire and a few with what appeared to be plasma blades easily crossed the distance, the Knight-Warden moved from cover to cover, dodging and weaving as best he could, given the difficulty of his current battleground.
All the while, Humility glowed brighter and felt hotter. The blade felt eager to unleash a sliver of its true power against these meager enemies. Orion knew enough to not let its spirit out too much, lest it burn him to cinders. If nothing else, Humility wouldn't want that to happen in such an insignificant battle as this. The damn sword would try to kill him at a later date.
For now, Orion needed to deal with these obstacles. He was effectively pinned, though. His armor would protect him only so much from sustained plasma fire. This wasn't a good tactical position in any case. The Knight-Warden pulled out his remaining chaff grenade and tossed it to cover his advance.
If the Nymphs knew what was coming, they didn't attempt to readjust accordingly. This made Orion wonder if their precognition was only up to a specific threshold. Another question that would ultimately go unanswered by the time he and the others, hopefully, got out of Lareca.
Orion didn't have much in the way of speed or agility in this situation, but he just needed to get close enough to unleash the fury of the Burning Blade. There was no hesitation nor concern if this would work or not. A Space Marine was Death. He knew no fear of it.
There were a dozen Nymphs in range of him now. They also held no fear of death. But creatures such as these also had nothing sacred and cherished no one. Beings born of warp and twisted science bred only for war would ultimately fail to reach the same level of an Astartes.
They lacked spirit. Lacked the ability to learn and grow. Their power was profane. Born of avarice and cruelty. The Nymphs were as much victims as the Elegians. A legacy of wickedness and pain. Fuel for mad ambitions and machinations. The price of another's hubris.
His foes were dangerous, exceedingly so. But Orion was Astartes. He was the Angel of Humility.
He was a Daemonsbane.
With a commanding heft of Humility, the Knight-Warden raised the blade high, channeling the sword's boundless energy. The air around him seemed to shimmer, heat waves distorting his surroundings. And then, in a single mighty swing, the energy within Humility burst forth like a cataclysmic torrent.
A torrent of fire, fury, and incandescent energy surged from the blade, consuming everything in its path. For all their unnatural precognition, the Nymphs could do nothing to evade this cataclysmic force. Their forms were incinerated, their twisted bodies reduced to ash and embers.
For a brief, searing moment, the battlefield became a realm of fire and destruction. The tempest of energy swept outwards, a scorching wave that purged the taint of the Nymphs and cleansed the area with divine wrath. The air crackled with power as the flames danced and roared, then gradually subsided, leaving only echoes of their blazing fury.
As the dust settled and the echoes of the inferno faded, Orion stood amidst the aftermath, his armor scorched and his sword still radiating a faint, smoldering glow. The way forward was clear. He paid no attention to the destruction he had just wrought upon his foes.
He had a daemon to slay.
What should have been a simple trek was becoming a slog, which made Orion suspect that something was trying to hinder him, trying to buy time and delay the inevitable. The muck, tar, and now even Nectar seemed to flow like a river of filth across Terminal Amrita. Practically up to his ankles, which considering how tall a marine often was, was saying something.
A familiar revolting tactic used by the Plague Father and his minions. Yet while this seemed like their work, Orion felt something else was afoot here. Maybe he was missing something more in this situation. Nevertheless, the only thing that mattered was destroying the source of the corruption and being done with this place.
Speaking of corruption, the environmental hazards had started to mount up to an unprecedented level. It didn't require a trained pair of eyes to see that the warp had begun reshaping this place into something unnatural.
Granted, the worst aspects of Chaos could be subtle, even when gazing upon such vile reconditioning of the environment. Orion heard a story about his Primarch. That Kesar Dorlin could see any corruption at a glance. It didn't matter how subtle it could be; he always saw when the warp attempted to subvert a part of reality. Unfortunately, Orion didn't have such an ability. At best, he could only hope to sense the foul taint of Chaos in a location.
As the Knight-Warden finally got a better look at the tree of Ambrosia, he figured that he wouldn't need his Primarchs ability to ascertain that something daemonic had overtaken the sole landmark of this place. It was just that obvious.
For starters, there were now several dozen maws of differing sizes and make that had "grown" across the tree. A staple of many daemons, for some awful reason. Same with what appeared to be an equal amount of eyes, albeit all closed. Orion mockingly thought that the Daemon was asleep.
He could also see a pair of appendages, generously described as hands and arms, protruding from the tree like some twisted mockery of humanoid life. The aura of disgust and hate Orion felt from it made the Knight-Warden wonder what the daemon might have supposed within its slumber.
Even then, Orion could see Ambrosia's decayed and ancient body in the center of this awful being. As if to show off the tortured remains of the long-since dead psyker. As Orion beheld the wretched spectacle, his resolve hardened. This daemon, this abhorrent violation of reality, could not persist. His grip tightened on Humility, the Burning Blade, as he prepared for what must be done here.
Less than ten meters from the tree, Orion had enough room and space to ready Humility to purge this evil. If he had his way, he'd have simply aimed Humility and fired. Sadly, killing daemons often required a more direct approach. None of the Wardens knew why it had to be done this way. The galaxy seemed to want all conclusive battles to end in a sword fight.
Orion grimaced as the foundation became all the more precarious. Determining what might have been ground viable for even footing was difficult. He might as well have been wading through waist-high mud with his slow progress approaching the polluted tree. Yet onward, the Knight-Warden went.
Finally, Orion arrived only a meter away from the daemonic tree. It hadn't noticed or awakened yet, which suited the Knight-Warden just fine. At this range, he could unleash the full fury of Humility without missing. Maybe, just maybe, the daemon was weakened enough that a true killing would be viable.
But then, a single eye cracked open, an abhorrent hue of bloody red staring directly at Orion. The realization that he had been detected caused him to curse as the tree writhed and contorted as if recoiling from his presence.
An otherworldly voice, dripping with malice and discord, resonated through the chamber, aimed squarely at Orion's consciousness. Laced with curiosity and disdain, it asked a question, but no words were spoken. The unspoke still echoed in the air, probing the essence of the intruder who dared to challenge it. Orion's resolve remained unshaken; he was a shield against the temptations of the warp, a bulwark against its whispered promises.
"Only your end, beast," Orion answered tersely. Hear not the words of daemons. For all speak only to bring about damnation. Humility glowed an incandescent white. "Now die."
He lunged forward, Humility blazing with searing light as he aimed to strike the final blow. But the daemon was not so easily caught off guard. One of its appendages lashed out, a motion far swifter than natural law would dictate. Orion reacted with split-second agility, retreating ten feet in a leap that defied his power-armored bulk. The appendage's attack missed, leaving only the echoing growl of the daemon as it seethed with thwarted fury.
With the swiftness born of training and experience, Orion propelled himself back, putting a considerable distance between himself and the daemon-infested tree. He should've expected the daemon to have a few tricks. As he regained his footing, the daemon's growl reverberated through the chamber. Was it angry? Well, so was Orion.
The already corrupted and twisted environment worsened as muck, tar, and Nectar began to churn and spew in an unsettling display. The daemon's presence and fury, combined with the inherent malevolence of the warp, was turning this place into a hellish swamp.
Orion reconsidered his approach even as the unspoken taunts emanating from the daemon and the tree echoed in his mind. Yet, the Knight-Warden remained resolute. Raising Humility high, he executed a powerful slash through the air. The conversion energy it released surged forward, directed at the daemon-infested tree.
In a twist of fate, the daemon's lack of response was unexpected, and the agonized cry it emitted as the energy struck home was gratifyingly triumphant. It never ceased to amaze Orion just how arrogant these creatures are when faced with opposition. Too bad this one got into a fight with the Angel of Humility.
But even though the attack wasn't fatal, it triggered a cascade of events that rocked the chamber. The ground shuddered beneath Orion's feet, the foundations of the daemon's unholy abode rebelling against its presence. The daemon's grotesque appendages, resembling hands of abomination, seized the foundation in a desperate bid for purchase as it sought to uproot itself from the tainted earth.
Refusing to be caught off guard, Orion pivoted on his heels, his stance poised for another strike with Humility. The daemon-infested tree might have been preparing its next move, but the Knight-Warden had no intention of giving it an advantage. His blade glowed with an even more intense radiance as he channeled his resolve into it.
Yet, something unexpected happened just as he unleashed his attack. The very filth and corruption that permeated the chamber, the foul amalgamation of Nectar and machinery, surged upward like a rising tide. It transformed into grotesque pillars that seemed to emerge from the very abyss, blocking his path and severing his line of attack toward the daemon.
The chamber had turned into a surreal battleground. These damn pillars and their overwhelming bulk dwarfed even a Dreadnought, making the Knight-Warden's surroundings increasingly suffocating. But amidst this development, a flicker of inspiration sparked within Orion's mind.
With a calculated move, he propelled himself upward, his power-armored hands finding precarious purchase on the slick and grimy towers. He climbed above the muck and tar that had plagued his attempts to strike at the daemon-infested tree. Perched atop one of these towering pillars, Orion finally gained a vantage point that offered a clearer view of the daemon.
Better yet, he had a way forward. Utilizing the pillars as stepping stones, he launched himself with renewed force, closing the distance between himself and the abomination with remarkable speed. The air around him sizzled with power as he swung Humility down in a sweeping arc, the blade's radiance matching his unwavering resolve. The attack landed squarely on the daemon's "face," a direct hit that should have spelled its end.
Yet, the daemon endured, its grotesque form writhing and contorting in response to the blow. Its twisted visage displayed defiance rather than defeat, and Orion's frustration surged. As if mocking his efforts, the daemonic tree began to uproot itself, the Warp allowing it to defy the laws of nature and reality as it began to float and rose slightly above the battlefield.
Its gaze bore down on the Knight-Warden, a palpable aura of challenge and mockery radiating from the daemon's presence. The unspoken challenge and taunting echoed through the materium in profane silence. Amidst the eerie silence, a repeated word echoed, a name perhaps: "Tormentor, Tormentor, Tormentor." If this was the daemon's name, it was an apt reflection of its role – yet the title seemed feeble and pitiable, an attempt to unsettle Orion that only highlighted the daemon's lack of understanding.
Unfazed by the daemon's attempts at intimidation, Orion gaze shifted to Ambrosia's glowing body, realization dawning upon him quickly. Evidently, the daemon had taken control of her remains, using her as a conduit or a focus for its stability within the materium. So, the best thing to do then was to destroy her remains.
The Tormentor wasn't going to make this easy. As it hovered above, its malevolent power manifested in a disturbing transformation of its main appendages. Like a grotesque version of rotted tree bark, these limbs began to elongate and solidify, morphing into formidable hammer-like fists that expanded before Orion's eyes.
Reacting with the speed and agility that only a Space Marine could muster, Orion evaded the onslaught, narrowly avoiding the destructive impact that would have surely shattered the pillar and likely crushed him beneath its weight. Seizing the opportunity presented by the Tormentor's aggressive maneuver, Orion had Humility unleashing a lance of brilliant blue conversion energy toward the daemon's limbs.
It tore through the air, intersecting with the techno-organic material of the Tormentor's appendages. As the conversion energy made contact, a cacophony of unearthly wails and tortured shrieks erupted. The searing impact ravaged the daemon's limbs, causing the techno-organic matter to unravel and disintegrate in a chaotic display of destruction.
Shifting its approach, the daemon's maws yawned open, expelling luminous globules of Nectar that hurtled through the air toward the Knight-Warden. Each projectile, larger than an ordinary human head, radiated a sinister energy hinting at their imminent danger.
Orion, wisely, kept moving. The globules impacted the pillars with a deafening explosion of acidic fire, further complicating his position. The blistering heat and corrosive substance were threats not to be taken lightly. Best to keep moving. Humility felt hot, especially as the enemy before it yet lived.
Despite the challenges, the battlefield kept shifting in strange and unpredictable ways. New pillars surfaced intermittently, offering him both cover and platforms for evasion. Whatever possessed the warp or the Tormentor to do something that clearly aided him would likely never be determined. Either way, the Knight-Warden kept dodging and attacking, making limited progress against his foe.
The Tormentor's frustration was palpable, evidenced by its evolving tactics. The daemon summoned beams of searing red energy from its many eyes, launching them toward Orion with unsettling precision. The Knight-Warden's evasion skills were tested as he maneuvered through the air, dodging and weaving to avoid the deadly beams.
Yet, something about the attack struck him as off. The beams displayed an unnatural ability to adjust or bend their trajectory mid-flight. Realizing that dodging alone might not be enough to evade these sentient beams, Orion decided to implement a strategy that capitalized on the peculiar behavior of the projectiles. As one of the beams homed in on him, he made a sudden, calculated movement, leading the beam to collide with a newly formed pillar instead. The impact resulted in a disorienting discharge of energy that briefly shrouded the area in an eerie glow.
With the Tormentor momentarily distracted by its own attack's aftermath, it attempted to rain down another series of hammerhand blows but made the mistake of letting its fist linger too long next to the platform Orion was on.
The Knight-Warden seized the opportunity. He surged forward, Humility held high, and struck with a powerful downward swing aimed at the daemon's weakened limbs. The air crackled with energy as the sword's conversion field interacted with the corrupted techno-organic matter, slicing off a large chunk of the Tormentor's left arm.
Orion knew that this daemon was dangerous, but it was also predictable. He embraced the familiar rhythm of combat, leveraging his training and instincts to read the Tormentor's movements and anticipate attacks. He almost sensed the daemon's frustration as its telegraphed maneuvers fell flat against his precise evasions and counterattacks. Each swing of Humility was a calculated strike aimed at the Tormentor's physical form and its tactics' weaknesses.
It seemed the Tormentor had enough of being blasted, though. As the daemon shifted its strategy, ascending further above the battlefield, Orion didn't falter. He adapted, continuing to fire well-aimed bursts of conversion energy to distract and harass the floating entity. It was a careful balance of offense and defense, firing and dodging.
But while Orion readjusted, he noticed something familiar taking shape once more. The Tormentor must not have seen as it readied another attack from up high, but as he let loose a few more lances of conversion energy toward it to keep it distracted, it failed to hear the roaring thunder until it was too late.
There was some cosmic irony in what happened next. Perhaps if daemons knew more about how the Materium operated, they'd have found it humorous to know that trees were often the targets of lightning during storms due to being natural lightning rods.
So Orion smirked when he watched as several bolts of warp-infused lightning instantly struck the Tormentor no less than five times. The unstated shrieks of pain and frustration rang out across the Terminal. A rather remarkable thing, really.
"There you are," Ramuh's voice echoed across team vox as the Stormherald suddenly floated up to one of the pillars on the other side of Orion's position. Even from a distance, Orion could see Ramuh was wounded and battle-scarred. Nevertheless, he was ready for this fight. Electricity arced across his power armor as his two hammers hovered beside him, "The situation has escalated."
"Quite." Orion retorted, "Still, it doesn't matter." The Tormentor slowly descended back down, unwilling to risk further attacks from the remaining storm up above. "Follow my lead."
Without wasting a moment, Orion took the initiative. He moved with stunning precision, his armored form darting between the pillars. Each step he took was measured, and every swing of Humility was guided by his soul, demanding he put an end to this thing.
Ramuh followed up his attacks; his hammers crackled with power as the Stormherald discharged lightning bolts at the Tormentor. The arcing energy sizzled through the air, converging on the daemon's numerous eyes. Perhaps hoping to blind it or simply help kill the daemon.
The Tormentor reacted with a hellish fury, its maws opening in a cacophony of unheard screams, echoing across this place's dead halls. A barrage of eldritch beams and Nectar bombs rained down upon the two, albeit almost recklessly. The daemon's attempts to retaliate were met with swift evasions and counterattacks, their coordinated actions leaving the Tormentor to start trying a different set of tactics. The unblinking eyes of Ambrosia lit up once more.
As Orion and Ramuh unleashed a volley of attacks against the daemon, the tree-like form of the Tormentor began to vibrate with an eerie intensity. The air around it seemed charged with a build-up of familiar otherworldly energy. Suddenly, the very body of the daemon contorted, and hundreds of spikey protrusions erupted from its form, shooting outwards with a malevolent force.
"Scatter!" Orion's command cut through the chaos as he and Ramuh instinctively sought cover. These strange barbs struck the pillars and the ground with tremendous force, embedding themselves deep into the stone and muck. But the danger wasn't over. The spikes that had struck the pillars vibrated and resonated with warp energy.
The two marines felt a hum, similar to a sonic resonance build-up. The most immediate problem was that no pillar or cover was free from these damn things. Just as it seemed they were cornered, a stone platform swooped into view, carrying a familiar figure.
Kuveer call rang out urgently, "Quickly, get on, you two!" Without hesitation, Orion leaped onto the platform, and Ramuh used his powers to glide over, joining him. Just in time, a barrage of sonic blasts struck the pillars they had just vacated. The Tormentor still quivered from its attack, and the fury of its previous assault had evidently taken a toll.
Looking over the Gemlord, Orion could see that he was a mess. His chest armor looked like it took a rocket from the inside, and Kuveer looked bleeding in several places. However, the determined glint in the psykers eyes told Orion that he remained resolute.
"Rough encounter with the Nymphs, I presume?" Ramuh's voice held a touch of sardonic humor as he observed Kuveer's state.
Kuveer nodded, his gaze fixed on the Tormentor, "Unfortunately, yes." He directed his attention to Orion, his tone urgent, "Captain, any ideas on how to defeat this abomination?"
Orion's eyes remained locked on their foe as it prepared another pair of hammerhand attacks.
"I'm working on it," he replied, a note of unwavering resolve. The trio abandoned the stone platform without delay, seeking refuge on separate pillars as their previous location was shattered by the daemon's attack.
And so the battle raged on. Orion continued to send waves and lance of energy against the Tormentor while Ramuh discharged lighting from his hands or up above. The addition of Kuveer was another welcome boon and advantage to the situation. The Gemlord, meanwhile, opted to hinder and harass the daemon's attacks.
Kuveer was quite masterful in his ability to obstruct a foe like this. Summoning any nearby stone, steel, and filth as barriers deflected and absorbed the Tormentor's eye-beam attacks. These debris blocks intercepted the malevolent energy blasts, sparing the trio. He tried a different tactic with the Nectar bombs, tossing a few spikes on an intercept course.
However, the trio was still making little progress in defeating the Tormentor. Their attacks were landing, but so far, it felt like they were just trying to some sort of unnatural armor. So Orion got another idea.
"Kuveer!" Orion's voice cut through the chaos of battle, "Craft smaller platforms to close the distance! We need to get closer to the daemon!"
Kuveer, with a nod of understanding, focused his geomantic powers once more. He conjured a series of smaller, sturdier platforms that hovered in mid-air. These platforms would serve as the stepping stones they needed to approach the Tormentor directly. Unfortunately, the Gemlord would have to concentrate on maintaining these platforms.
The other issue was that Ramuh was trying to also maintain the lightning storm up above and ensure no beams or bombs hit Kuveer. Which meant that Orion was on his own. So be it. The Knight-Warden leaped onto the nearest platform and began to navigate the makeshift path toward the Tormentor. His grip tightened on Humility, its blade still glowing with its fiery energy.
With each leap to another platform or pillar, Orion drew nearer to the Tormentor, closing the gap between them. The daemon's eyes fixated on him, its monstrous form bristling with hostility. It tried to lash out with its hammerhands, but the Knight-Warden deftly moved before they could smash him.
The pillars provided sporadic cover as he advanced, but there was no stopping their inexorable approach. Nothing would stop the Knight-Warden now. One of the platforms appeared before him, allowing him to be within striking distance.
Orion felt the burning blade in his hand and the white glow of fury from its machine spirit as he unleashed a torrent of energy from Humility. The blade's conversion energy surged forth, striking the daemon's form with renewed intensity as the Tormentor roared in agony, its maws gaping in a soundless scream. But the Knight-Warden didn't stop. His onslaught continued, each strike weakening the daemon's foul essence.
Orion's unrelenting assault had begun to take its toll on the Tormentor. The daemon's twisted form seemed to writhe and convulse as the conversion energy seared through its exterior. The foul energy within it oozed out, mingling with the corrupted Nectar and creating an otherworldly, sickly light that tainted the air.
However, the Tormentor was far from defeated. Its maws opened wide again, emitting another soundless screech reverberating through the chamber. The Terminal trembled around them, and the air seemed to crackle with malevolent energy.
Orion sensed a surge of power building within the daemon, a desperate and final bid to annihilate its assailants. Ramuh's storm overhead intensified, sending arcs of lightning dancing across the chamber. Despite the mounting strain on his powers, Kuveer maintained his focus on the platforms.
By now, Orion felt he was close to ending this thing for good. There was no chance that it could continue this fight. The only other option he could think of was to attack Ambrosia's body to stop its focus, but some sort of shielding protected it.
He couldn't back away, not now, but the Tormentor was throwing out sonic spikes, Nectar bombs, and its blasted eye beams. One wrong move, and Orion could either be seriously maimed or killed here. Trying to just blast this damn thing was only making it angry.
So where did that leave him?
As he readied another attack, the Tormentor was ready this time and fired a Nector bomb at his platform, forcing him to jump to another pillar. However, one of the eyes looked at him as it readied another beam attack. There wasn't enough time to dodge out of the way of this.
But lady luck must have been on his side today. Orion then watched as a bullet hit dead-center and promptly exploded. Then another familiar voice rang out, "Orion, you need to aim Humility up two meters and fire, go right through the eye!" Estrith's frantic voice called out from somewhere.
Orion's instincts took over as he trusted Estrith's guidance without hesitation. With a swift motion, he adjusted the angle of Humility as instructed, aiming it upward just as another one of the Tormentor's eyes locked onto him and was about to strike.
He was faster on the draw. The beam of energy surged from the tip of Humility, intersecting with the Tormentor's eye beam. The collision created a brilliant explosion of crackling points, a cataclysmic clash that sent shockwaves rippling through the chamber.
An intense heat washed over Orion, his helmet warning him of the danger he was in right now. He didn't care. As the blinding radiance gradually subsided and his vision cleared, he witnessed the outcome of this rather dangerous attack. If the Tormentor's body hadn't been in shambles before, it was certainly in shambles now.
A gaping hole in its "face" was now a small portal into the nightmarish realm of the warp, and Orion knew he was looking at the heart of the tree. Strangely enough, the body of Ambrosia was still completely safe. If Orion had to guess, it was almost like the Tormentor protected it more than the tree? Either way, the daemon was furious, and it let out a muted scream of pain and rage, its form convulsing in agony.
Estrith's voice rang out, "Keep attacking! The tree is dying!" She was right. This was his chance to finish this. Ignoring the pain in his limbs and the chaos around him, Orion pressed forward again, even as the Tormentor tried to back away. There would be no escape, though. The Knight-Warden leaped from pillar to pillar, using the terrain to his advantage as he closed the distance between himself and the wounded daemon.
The daemon's remaining eyes swiveled to track his movements, its remaining attacks growing increasingly desperate and erratic. Orion's sent wave and lance of energy from Humility, the machine spirit aware of its prey's impending doom.
He deflected the sonic spikes with his shield, dodged the Nectar bombs with swift footwork, and leaped away from the eye beams as lightning kept the Tormentor in place, the platforms gave reach, and shots from Estrith kept the damn thing harried.
Estrith's voice echoed in his ears again, a beacon of guidance amidst the chaos, "You've got this, Orion! Keep pushing! We've got your back!" Strange how her words gave him the energy to keep pushing forward.
The Tormentor's aura of malevolence began to waver, its grip on the Techno-Organic tree weakening. The daemon's defiance was fading, replaced by growing desperation. It was a losing battle, and both Orion and the daemon knew it. Perhaps it finally understood that fighting a Daemonsbane meant certain death.
Death had indeed come for it.
Orion rushed forward. Even as one of the spikes clipped his leg armor. Even as a Nectar bomb blew frighteningly close to his body, covering parts of his armor with acid and flame. Humility glowed and burned white hot. With a final surge of strength, Orion aimed Humility directly at the heart of the Tormentor's form. The conversion energy burst forth with blinding intensity straight into the hellmouth of the daemon.
The chamber echoed with the deafening symphony of the daemon's anguished cries, its essence unraveling under the sheer force of the attack. The Techno-Tree began to burn. It died and rotted before his very eyes as Orion held Humility, unleashing an unsightly amount of energy into its very being.
His sword unleashed its blazing fury, but Orion likewise channeled his disgust and hatred toward the daemon at this very moment. Every fiber of his being wishes true death to this abomination and blight. If there was any justice in this galaxy for Elegia and Ambrosia, it would be to kill the Tormentor once and for all.
The Techno-Tree, which had become the vessel for the Tormentor, started to break apart and shudder. A furious roar reverberated through the fabric of reality and within the Terminal before it went still and started melting. Silence finally returned…but it would not last for long.
Orion's instincts were rarely wrong, and the unease that gnawed at him now was hard to ignore. As he surveyed the aftermath of their battle, the crumbling pillars and the shifting environment only reinforced his feeling that something was amiss. The defeat of the Tormentor had brought an eerie calm. It was just a lull in the chaos that indicated a new threat.
The first sign that the situation had changed was when the pillars started to crumble, and reality seemed to reorganize itself. However, the situation inside Terminal Amrita remained turbulent due to the amount of stress put upon it by the storm and the most recent warp phenomenon.
Orion leaped from the falling pillar he stood upon to the ground. He noticed the muck and tar beneath him seemed to transform strangely, thinning out and reconfiguring unpredictably. It was as if it was responding to some unseen force, realigning itself.
Just then, he saw his companions approaching. Orion looked at Estrith and saw that she had also sustained significant wounds across her body but was still standing and able. Both Kuveer and Ramuh looked confused about something, while Estrith looked worried.
"Orion, something's wrong." Estrith spoke after a moment, "Ambrosia says we aren't finished here."
Again, with the voices. Orion was seriously concerned that Estrith had been corrupted. Just who or what was telling her all these things? Nevertheless, he had to agree with the voice. So what was going on, then? Had he failed to land a killing blow on the Tormentor?
"It feels like the atmosphere just changed completely." Ramuh observed after a moment, "There is a growing fury in the air. Someone is quite angry with us."
Kuveer nodded, "Is it possible the daemon is trying to come back?"
"No," Orion answered succinctly. "Whether or not I truly killed it doesn't matter. Its body has been sent back to the Warp. It can't reconstitute itself into this realm." The Knight-Warden then looked back at the rivers of filth and keenly noticed they receded, leaving them physically free to move about. A nice change of pace.
That was until he saw it heading toward the tree or, more specifically, Ambrosia's body. During the battle with the Tormentor, Orion could not land a hit on it. The daemon had been protecting it. Naturally, he assumed it was because it gave the Tormentor power. The Tormentor's techno-organic tree remnants dissolved into nothingness, but Ambrosia's body remained untouched.
His companions must have realized this as well. They took positions beside the Knight-Warden as they saw everything flowing into what they now saw: a small warp tear between her breasts, absorbing all the matter.
The pieces began to click into place. The Tormentor's apparent obsession with Ambrosia's body, the shielding that had protected it, and now this warp tear was all connected. There was another daemon here. Was that possible, though? Daemons could work in tandem with each other, but for one to protect the other to the point of risking true death was unheard of.
Pure speculation, though, and one that Orion didn't care to entertain. If there was another daemon, it would be deposed as well. Nothing changed in this situation. Humility and Orion were one as this desire to end the daemonic grew bright in their souls.
And then Terminal became abruptly quiet as if all the sound had become muted, and there in the center of the melted tree was the body of Ambrosia, on her knees and no longer looking entirely dead or human. It was almost like the remains of the techno-tree had covered her, reconstructing her body into something more…alive.
Her resurrection, if one could call it that, was disturbing. Her form was altered, a hybrid of flesh and tree, the boundary between them blurred. The metamorphosis was surreal, challenging the boundaries of life and death, humanity, and daemonic corruption. She looked different, not entirely human anymore, yet something undeniably controlled her. A rotten tree on legs. That was all Orion could think.
"Shit…" Estrith breathed out, "It looks like a Dryad."
Kuveer glanced at her, "A what?"
"Just something Papa showed me once. Part of an old legend." She shook her head, "But that thing isn't of Elegia. That is not Ambrosia." Orion nodded; it wasn't a thing of this reality. Enough waiting around; it's time to kill this blasted thing.
This confrontation was inevitable, and they could ill afford to allow this abomination to continue unchecked. With Humility in hand, Orion unleashed its power, a lance of energy aimed squarely at the Dryad. The impact was significant, causing the creature's form to burn and sear, yet the following healing defied all logic.
The Dryad's form burned from the blast, but the quartet watched as the "flesh" healed before their eyes. Worse yet, it seemed to regenerate as Nectar began to flow from the wound like a weeping sore and closed it up. It was at this point that the eyes of the Dryad opened. A pair of glowing and sickly yellow orbs stared menacingly toward the Knight-Warden. Orion could feel the fury from the Dryad toward him.
The wave of anger radiating from the Dryad was palpable, and its vocal scream reverberated through the environment, shaking the foundations of Terminal Amrita. It was as if the creature's anger was a force manifesting in sound and vibration.
Without warning, the Dryad charged at an astonishing speed, instantly closing the distance between them. Its movement was so quick that it almost caught the group off guard. In its wake, spikes were unleashed, forcing them to disperse and evade.
Orion moved swiftly, his power armor's enhanced agility allowing him to dodge the spikes with calculated precision. He watched as the Dryad's momentum carried it towards him, its intention to engage him directly evident. The Knight-Warden knew he couldn't let it close in on him.
He raised Humility, its blue light flaring with his resolve, and unleashed a burst of conversion energy aimed at the Dryad's advancing form.
The energy blast hit the Dryad head-on, its form erupting in a violent explosion of light and Nectar. The force of the blast created a shockwave that pushed against Orion and the others, reminding him that Humility at such ranges risked maiming or killing its user.
He barely had time to register that his attack didn't finish off the Dryad as it soon appeared out of the debris and smoke, seemingly fueled by its anger. It was like fighting the Slayer. He side-stepped the charge and tried to slice at the daemon, but it swiftly dodged the attack.
Its dexterity and strength was something else. The absence of the filth that had plagued their earlier battle aided their agility, allowing them to move more freely. Yet, the Dryad's proximity presented a new challenge. Their strategic range advantage had been stripped away, and now they were faced with the creature's wrath at close quarters.
Additionally, the Dryad's attacks were anything normal. It had given itself two more arms covered in barbs and spikes while her other two had hammerhands. Orion snarled from behind his helmet, blocking several attacks at him with unnaturally enhanced speeds. Amid the chaotic brawl, it became clear that the Dryad was not just a mindless attacker.
Its movements were calculated, its strikes precise and deadly. Orion's attempts to land a blow were met with swift evasions as if the daemon could anticipate his every move. The Dryad's morphed form added to its unpredictability. A Biomancer's body made into the plaything of a daemon meant it had a fairly unique set of powers at its disposal, making it difficult for him to properly gauge a weakness.
This wasn't going to be an easy fight at all. Thankfully, Orion wasn't alone in this. Estrith's agility and marksmanship came to the forefront as she fired well-placed shots at the Dryad between its exchanges with Orion. The former operative might not have landed any decent hits, even with that Scope of hers, but her harrying of the Dryad forced it to split its attention.
Kuveer's geomantic abilities came into play once again. He summoned stone and steel to act as projectiles and threw them with calculated precision, although he could not use anything bigger than the size of his fists. All this helped create opportunities or openings for Orion and the others to exploit while Kuveer attacked with his knives, wires, and sword. The Gemlord even tried to get into melee with the Dryad, but this had mixed results.
Ramuh had a bit more luck in this brawl. His training and experience with his force hammers gave him quite the edge while he tried hitting the Dryad with lightning bolts or straight charging into the daemon by electrifying his body. His wounds, however, were hindering his effectiveness, and trying to hit with the Lightning Gun wasn't working either. Still, his attacks were often hitting and caused the Dryad's body to momentarily twitch uncontrollably, allowing the others to strike at exposed areas or areas with less natural armor.
Orion's snarl deepened as he continued to engage the Dryad. He could feel the pressure of the fight, the ebb and flow of combat. Every strike he delivered and every blow he deflected fed his hatred and contempt for the daemonic. He could sense his companions' efforts around him, the synergy of their skills creating a whirlwind of death that, against any other foe, would have seen them defeated already.
Yet the Dryad was unlike any foe he had fought. At one point, it was facing against all four of them in the melee. It deflected attacks, launched its own, and weaved and dodged like it had precognition. The Dryad's fixation on Orion provided both a challenge and an opportunity. While it focused its fury on the Knight-Warden, the others were able to exploit openings and deliver impactful strikes.
Even so, this also meant that Orion faced the brunt of the daemon's attacks, each blow pushing his physical limits and straining his armor. He also felt Humility's fury growing as well, eager to kill this foe but unable to unleash its power unless the Knight-Warden allowed it. Orion's mind raced, analyzing the fight and the Dryad's behavior. A pattern, a flaw, something that could be exploited.
The Dryad was also coming up with new abilities. Annoyed at the four of them fighting it as one, its mouth suddenly opened to an unnatural and unsettling degree before unleashing a sonic scream around it, causing the quartet to back away. This gave it enough time to grow wings made of machinery and bark and then took flight.
As it took flight, the Dryad's movements became erratic, its ascent hindered by the unnatural wings it had conjured. The quartet watched as it covered itself in matter, a strategy that seemed aimed at granting it greater momentum and power for its next attack. The ground trembled beneath its weight, and the air crackled with energy as it prepared for its descent.
Orion wasn't going to give it a chance. He aimed Humility straight up and happily unleashed the fury within the sword. The impact of Humility's strike, combined with the Dryad's own descent, created a shockwave that rippled through the ground, sending debris flying in all directions. The Knight-Warden's attack had disrupted the daemon's planned assault, but just barely.
The Dryad burst from the rubble, wounded and furious. The group, however, kept up the pressure. Estrith rapidly closed the distance, her Scope-enhanced aim locked on the Dryad's exposed form. She unleashed a flurry of shots, each finding its mark and causing the daemon's bark and machinery to crack and fragment.
Kuveer followed suit, even as his ears rang and blood poured from new wounds, his geomantic powers enhanced by the sword, causing shards of steel to speed toward the Dryad, embedding themselves deep into her flesh and hide. His last Thermite Knife was also tossed into the mix, hitting the Dryad in its right arm and igniting it.
Ramuh, despite his wounds, summoned his remaining strength. He raised his force hammers high and released lightning energy, channeling it through the weapons and into the daemon. The crackling arcs of electricity danced across the Dryad's form. Parts of its body started to smoke and light up.
But even through all of this, its focus remained firmly on Orion. These attacks merely prevented it from raging further against the Knight-Warden. Nothing more than hindrances to getting whatever vengeance it desired. It was almost admirable. Such raw hatred was practically pure in its design. Almost human, even.
It made Orion wish he truly killed the Tormentor now for no other reason than to see the Dryad lose all control. That would have made for a fascinating report to send to his brothers. A daemon that felt emotion toward another of its kind.
Oh well. All daemonkind must die.
He charged the Dryad for what felt like the fourth or fifth time, locking himself in battle with the daemon while still working on a plan. She was regenerating faster than expected, but the Knight-Warden knew it was possible to kill her. What mattered right now was stopping her ability to regenerate.
Humility was the key to this, and the Dryad was aware of this. Which meant he needed to stop her from getting away. That was when Orion got an idea.
"Kuveer!" He called out quickly over vox, "Pillar, center of the room, now!"
The Gemlord didn't bother asking questions, "Got it!"
"Estrith," Orion rattled out, "Shoot her wings!" The Clear Sky operative said nothing, instead focusing on firing off round after round toward the unnatural appendages.
Now the lynchpin, "Ramuh, on my mark, get ready to stun her!" Timing this right wasn't a difficult thing. The Dryad was so focused on Orion that she failed to keep track of her surroundings. Unfortunately for him, splitting the group's attention away from harassing her left him open to more of her attacks.
His companions worked swiftly. Kuveer's geomantic powers came into play again as he summoned a stone pillar from the ground as tall as any Astartes and reinforced it as best he could with steel.
Estrith's precise shots found their mark as she expertly targeted the Dryad's wings, causing them to splinter and falter under the barrage. The wings attempted to regenerate, but it seemed there was a limit to how fast they could do so under sustained fire. How long Estrith could keep this up, though, was dependent on how quickly she could reload.
Ramuh, despite the strain on his body, positioned himself for the next move. Electricity arced across his power armor as he prepared to unleash a concentrated burst of lightning energy. The air around him crackled with anticipation as he awaited Orion's signal.
The Dryad, while focused on Orion, was not oblivious to the actions of his companions. The pain from the shots to its wings only fueled its rage further. It thrashed and flailed in response, a cacophony of inhuman shrieks echoing as it fought against the assault.
At one point, it tried to fly away as Estrith reloaded, but Kuveer caught the creature's right leg with his monofilament wires. An otherwise easy catch was made difficult by how strong the Dryad was compared to him. Nevertheless, the Gemlord held firm until Estrith returned fire at the beast.
Meanwhile, Orion dueled the Dryad with the fury befitting a Daemonsbane. He deflected its strikes and countered with his own, each aimed to keep the daemon off-balanced and force it to focus on him. His movements were precise, focused on pushing the daemon further and further toward the pillar.
His foe must have realized they were forced into a no-win situation. With a sudden burst of speed, the Dryad lunged at Orion, its multiple arms swinging with deadly precision. He parried most of the strikes, but one blow managed to get through, sending him staggering back as he felt the blade pierce his side. He gritted his teeth against the pain, his grip on Humility unwavering.
The Dryad was getting stronger. It's anger fueling its power. But Orion was still pushing it back, slowly and methodically. Sensing that this wasn't working, the Dryad tried a different tactic by spitting Nectar at his head. His head was protected by the power armor's helmet, but it was now hit with a burning, corrosive acid.
This didn't stop Orion, who proceeded to do the unthinkable and headbutted the Dryad so hard that it would've killed an ordinary man. The daemon wasn't stunned but dazed, and the Knight-Warden knew this was his chance.
"Now, Ramuh!" Orion's voice boomed over the vox as he swiftly stepped back, creating distance between himself and the Dryad. Ramuh unleashed a blinding surge of lightning energy from his outstretched hands. The crackling arcs of electricity enveloped the Dryad, causing its body to seize and convulse in a maelstrom of energy. The daemon's movements became erratic, and its scream of fury reached a deafening pitch.
Orion had used the opportunity to give him room for a charge. With Humility in both hands, he sprinted toward the Dryad, blade first, and then lanced the Daemon, but he wasn't done just yet as the Knight-Warden simply pushed forward with all his strength toward the pillar of stone.
The Dryad, still reeling from the lightning attack and being stabbed by Humility, tried to fight back with all the fury and hatred it had accumulated since the start of this fight but could not stop the Knight-Warden from what happened next as the daemon was pinned to the stone pillar via the Burning Blade.
It was time to finish this. With the Dryad pinned to the stone pillar by the force of Orion's blow, its screams of fury and pain echoed through the air as the blade began to charge up. The Knight-Warden held in place, keeping the daemon pinned, even as the energy from Humility began to grow and expand. The Dryad started to burn before his eyes but thrashed and fought back like a cornered animal. Orion's grip on Humility remained unrelenting; his hatred and disgust toward daemonkind poured into the blade as his soul uttered a Chogarian death chant.
"Stars embrace, forever near," He muttered under his breath and with gritted teeth as the screaming daemon burned and Humility shined bright, "Into the void, your end draws clear!" He felt the daemon's presence diminish, its twisted existence fading away. It was a battle of wills as much as a battle of strength.
Unable to escape, the Dryad's body went up like kindling. Nectar boiled in its body, and the daemon glared with a fury that promised endless pain and torment. Orion didn't care. Its hatred was nothing compared to his own. As the Dryad's form distorted and died, a new problem emerged as the conversion energy from Humility reached his hands and arms, threatening to burn through his armor.
Orion didn't care. He held true until he knew the daemon was either dead or banished. The all-consuming fire of Humility licked at his very soul. The Knight-Warden stood resolute until finally…the daemon died. The light in its eyes faded, and its body turned to ash. The nauseating feeling of daemonkind was gone.
A feeling of contentment washed over him. Orion stood amidst the aftermath, his armor damaged and his body wounded, but he stood victorious. It seemed his allies recognized the battle was over; as they soon approached, their forms silhouetted against the fading remnants of the pyre that was now the stone pillar.
It was finally over. The daemonic threat was eliminated for good.
It wasn't long before all four realized that Terminal Amrita was falling apart. Between the lighting storm, the vats of Nectar breaking loose, gravity going haywire for a moment, and the last two battles, it was a miracle the ceiling hadn't fallen on everything.
Orion knew it was time to leave, but not before he fired a few more lances toward the stone pillar and the Dryad's remains. Just to make sure it was dead and nothing could be recovered. Kuveer and Ramuh, on the other hand, went to collect some samples of Nectar to take back for research on the Khan's fleet.
This left Estrith to remain with Orion, who seemed unsure how to process what they had just faced. "I expected to find something crazy when I heard the first reports of the servitors on the surface…but this is beyond imaginable." She might have had a more scrutinizing look under her helmet as she turned to Orion, "And you said that your legion specializes in fighting these daemons? Including more powerful ones?"
"There are many unseen horrors and powers within the warp." Orion answered momentarily, "Best not to dwell on such things, especially after a fight like that." While not the most intense battle he had been in, the Knight-Warden knew it would have been a much closer dual without his companion's aid.
Estrith looked ready to ask another question before she stopped and went silent. At first, Orion didn't think much of it before hearing her say, "You're welcome. I…wait, what?" Then her voice picked up in pitch, "Where?! How many?!" Orion thought something had gone wrong; perhaps she just saw a group of Nymphs approaching?
Perplexed by her sudden change in demeanor, Orion reacted swiftly. His eyes widened as he observed Estrith spring into motion, bolting in a direction unbeknownst to him.
Concern and confusion intermingled as he called out to her, his voice carrying a frustrated undertone, "Estrith? Estrith! What's happening? Come back!"
He wasted no time, his powered strides chasing after her. However, even with his enhanced physiology, he struggled to match her fleetness. The disparity in their speed was evident as she steadily outpaced him, her focus driving her with remarkable swiftness.
Wherever she was going, it seemed distant from where the tree had been. They were now near what appeared to be one of the walls of Terminal Amrita. Then, Orion spotted what seemed to be a door to something nestled between what appeared to be a set of fortifications.
Estrith, driven by some sense of urgency, tried to get inside but struggled to open this door, likely due to it not being broken or whatnot. This was the scene Orion encountered as he arrived, still wondering what was happening.
The former operative noticed his arrival, "Orion, help me with this door. It's stuck or something!" She desperately tried to open it, acting like something important was on the other side.
Sensing that he'd have better luck getting an answer by helping, Orion started helping her with the door, "Estrith, what is going on? Why did you take off running?" His strength was ultimately what allowed the pair to push open the door. Orion could see a few dim lights that revealed the interior looked like a laboratory.
She started moving inside while speaking, "Ambrosia wished us thanks for helping her pass on and avengeing her." What? So it wasn't the daemons that were whispering things to Estrith? If so, then there really was a spirit that had been haunting this place.
Directing Orion to follow, Estrith walked to what appeared to be another door, but this one was powered up and with a keypad, "She told me there is something here for all of Elegia. Our future."
Estrith inputted a code onto the keypad for this unfamiliar door. There was a hiss of air as the door unsealed itself, and a moment later, it opened to reveal a room that looked as if time had stood still within its walls. Orion couldn't help but think it resembled a laboratory designed by a Magos Biologis, with its air of precision and order.
His companion headed directly toward what appeared to be a large stasis pod or freezer. Estrith paused momentarily, took a deep breath as if bracing herself for what lay inside, and then unsealed the pod. As Orion approached to see what was inside, he heard a gasp of excitement mingled with disbelief from Estrith.
The first thing that caught his eye was the neatly stacked red orbs, each about the size of an apple. They were identical, their symmetry almost perfect. Strangely, faint sounds reminiscent of wind chimes emanated from them, adding an ethereal quality to the scene. Orion could sense Estrith's heightened anticipation.
It took him a moment to realize the significance, "Estrith, are these…?"
She hesitated, her voice quivering slightly, "They are Ambrosia orbs, or vials, to be precise." Reaching out, she delicately picked up one of the orbs, cradling it as if holding something precious beyond measure. Considering this meant everything to the Elegians, that was saying something.
"Ambrosia, the spirit, revealed these to you?" Orion found himself grappling with a mix of awe and disbelief. The idea of a ghost or spirit bestowing such a profound gift was beyond anything he had encountered. "That is indeed an extraordinary reward."
She nodded, "Ambrosia said these were the final batch of orbs the Unfaded prepared before her demise. Each orb contains ten uses. That means these orbs hold the power to enhance ten Elegians or potentially influence the development of an unborn child."
It was a potent offering that could tip the scales of power in favor of whoever controlled them. The Warhawk would undoubtedly be eager to secure these orbs, just as the Elegians would vie for control. A sudden tremor reminded them that their time within Terminal Amrita was short.
"Estrith, we need to leave."
She eagerly nodded, scanning the room for suitable containers, "Help me gather these orbs into a secure storage unit. And for the sake of all that's sacred, handle them with the utmost care." As if he'd fumble one of these orbs.
Working together, it took them a few focused minutes to securely place each orb within a pair of specialized medical containers. Estrith also managed to grab a few abandoned documents from the room, her efficiency a testament to her preparedness. Orion, ensuring the containers were safely strapped to his back, couldn't help but feel the weight of their contents, both physically and metaphorically.
However, he needed to warn her of something, "Estrith…I'll need to report these things when we return to the fleet."
The grim look on her face told Orion what Estrith thought of that, "Orion…I won't stop you, but if you'll hear me out? There is more than enough to split between us both. Even just 10 of those could do wonders for my people. But fifty? It could mean the long-term salvation of Elegia. So we don't need the others."
In a way, Orion understood her perspective. Each orb contained the potential for ten uses, translating to a staggering five hundred enhancements or more. Did the Khan truly need a thousand Lexmechnics? He might desire them, but the critical need resided with Elegia.
As they considered their choices, their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a crackle over the vox, a voice demanding their attention, "Orion? Where in the Khan's name are you and Estrith? Return to the site where the tree was. Kuveer just sensed a sizable horde of Nymphs converging on our position! We got to get out here and now!"
Orion exchanged a quick glance with Estrith, his decision made, "Understood, Ramuh. We are en route. Be ready to move."
Estrith's gaze held hope, "We made it this far. Time to make it to the end and get out of here."
When Orion and Estrith returned to where the Dryad fell, they found Ramuh and Kuveer, who both looked quite pensive over the predicament they all now found themselves in. Not only was the "sky" falling, but now enemies were also on approach.
Observing his companions, Orion realized that his companions bore the marks of battle – wounds, blood, and likely a fair share of exhaustion. Kuveer, in particular, looked in rough shape, but even the stalwart Knight-Warden himself could feel burns and punctures across his battered form. Ramuh and Estrith were no exceptions, their bodies adorned with the battle's cruel artistry.
Ideally, Estrith would start administrating first aid, but they were already exposed enough to this environment that Orion couldn't risk trying to perform any medical diagnostics or treatment here. They had to get out of Lareca and reach a safer place.
Ramuh noticed the two containers on Orion's back, "Where did you two go?"
"Estrith was guided by Ambrosia to something of significance," Orion replied, his voice a mixture of uncertainty regarding the spirit's intervention. "However, that can wait. Our immediate concern is ensuring our safe departure from Lareca." He turned his gaze toward Kuveer, "What's the situation with the Nymphs?"
"They're surrounding us," Kuveer responded, his expression mirroring the gravity of the revelation. "However, I think they are keeping their distance. This means we have an opening to leave, but if they suddenly find their courage again, we'll face at least a couple dozen Nymphs."
That made things easier: "Then we break through and get out of this place, meet up with Lev, reach Travel Point Zeta, and then activate the charges and bury this forsaken place once and for all."
Ramuh crossed his arms, "Not even going to try and keep this place intact? Could be a treasure trove of information waiting to be found."
"This place is corrupted and tainted by all manner of evil." Orion all but spat, "Better to bury it and leave it in ruins."
The Stormherald laughed and nodded, "Just checking to see if we are on the same page."
"I must echo the sentiment." Kuveer remarked, "The stones of this place will never be pure again, and I shudder to imagine anyone trying to rebuild here."
All three turned to their Elegian counterpart; she glared at them, "What the fuck do you think? I want this place destroyed."
Kuveer shrugged, "Alright, then might I suggest we leave posthaste? The Nymphs aren't moving right now, so we might still have some time, but once they start barreling toward us, I don't have much confidence in our odds."
"I fear no foe, Captain. We are Astartes." Ramuh confidently told Orion, "But I would urge that caution is the better part of valor in this instance."
"Agreed." Orion knew a fight with a dozen or so Nymphs would lead to more wounds or destruction of their cargo. "So let's get the hells out of here."
The official report that would eventually reach the Khan's desk painted a picture of a tactically executed, cautious retreat from Terminal Amrita. The quartet's movements were described as skillful, evading Nymph patrols with well-coordinated maneuvers until they finally reached the facility's exit. Yet, in truth, their escape was far less orchestrated, more akin to a frantic dash for survival. With the Nymphs in pursuit, particularly incensed after witnessing the destruction of their cherished tree, the situation was precarious at best.
Their destination lay approximately 100 meters above the surface, requiring them to traverse the labyrinthine passages of Lareca while being relentlessly pursued. On top of this, the group was determined to locate their missing servitor, Lev, and secure the vital data core it carried. Estrith refused to leave without that data core, and Orion also wanted it. The information on it could prove useful to the Khan. Still, this left the group in a dangerous position.
A chase effectively started, although Orion refused to claim they were being hunted. It's more like the Nymphs were just furious. The pursuit was unofficially on, although Orion was reluctant to admit they were being hunted. The Nymphs seemed more fueled by fury and vengeance, and the quartet's coordinated movements allowed them to maintain some semblance of distance. More often, Orion used Humility to blow out a tunnel or hallway to cut off the Nymph's pursuit, but they always seemed to find a new passage to continue the chase.
Reaching the top of Lareca was made difficult by the facility still fighting them. All elevators were effectively offline if they weren't already dilapidated from disrepair and time. Sometimes, the group had to climb through elevator shafts or maintenance tunnels. Estrith and Kuveer worked in tandem to ensure they weren't lost or at least going up.
There were so many close calls. If it wasn't the Nymphs getting a little close, it was the auto-turrets and traps. Ramuh and Orion, at one point, leveled an entire floor behind them to stop a trio of Nymphs from almost jumping them. What might have been an interesting tale in other circumstances became a sidenote in their escape from Lareca.
Ascending to the upper levels of Lareca was an arduous feat, compounded by the facility's crumbling state. Nonfunctional or dilapidated elevators forced the group to navigate through maintenance tunnels and elevator shafts. The combined efforts of Estrith and Kuveer ensured they maintained their upward trajectory, but the danger was their constant companion.
Close calls were the norm. Whether it was the Nymphs almost closing in or the automated defenses and traps complicating their path, danger seemed to lurk around every corner. On one occasion, Ramuh and Orion even resorted to decimating an entire floor to thwart a trio of Nymphs, turning what might have been an intriguing tale into a mere footnote in their escape.
At around the 70-meter mark, fortune favored them. Lev the Servitor was sighted, carrying the sought-after data core and entering a functional lift. The why and how of Lev's presence in this crucial moment remained a mystery, but in the chaos of their flight, questioning was a luxury they couldn't afford. Swift manipulation of the lift's controls propelled them to the 95-meter level, narrowly avoiding a barrage of plasma fire from their pursuers.
The group returned fire, even as the lift doors were closing, and then merely waited to reach the top. At this point, Estrith pulled out the compact vox-caster with the detonator. "Once we hit the egress point, I think it might be best to give our parting gift to this place."
Kuveer looked uncertain about this, "We'll have about 90 meters of stone, steel, and granite protecting us, but a plasma reactor going off isn't anything to sniff at."
"Has to be done," Ramuh remarked, "The Nymphs are trailing behind us. Need to bury them in this nightmare. Their home shall become their grave."
Orion agreed with the sentiment. It was best to end this place sooner rather than later. Although he lacked the innate intuition of Solarus when it came to explosives, the Knight-Warden possessed enough understanding to believe that they stood a fair chance of surviving the detonation of Lareca's plasma reactor.
The quartet's desperate flight led them to what they assumed was the highest point of the facility or, at the very least, the closest to the surface. It was time to make a final run for it. Everyone was ready. Even in his wounded state, Ramuh shouldered the added burden of carrying Lev, determined to expedite their escape.
Though slightly disappointing, the absence of immediate pursuit gave the group a much-needed respite. Whether or not the Nymphs were just moments away or had abandoned their chase didn't matter now. The silence seemed heavy around them, broken only by their labored breaths and the distant echoes of their footfalls. The tension of the past hours began to ebb, giving way to a strange blend of weariness and cautious hope.
As Estrith's voice rang out, announcing their proximity to Travel Point Zeta, a renewed sense of purpose coursed through the quartet. The promise of escape, of finally leaving the accursed depths of Lareca behind, was tantalizingly close.
A few minutes later, they found what looked to be an excavation site where, no doubt, the Compact had plans to expand Lareca. The remnants of a future that never was, where the ambitions of the Compact had been frozen in time. It was here, amidst the signs of unfinished plans, that Estrith prepared the detonator.
With a glance toward Kuveer, Orion acknowledged the Geomancer's expertise. He set about reshaping the earth and soil around them, sculpting a path to their escape from the depths of Lareca via a tunnel that would lead them to the surface.
Then suddenly, Kuveer spoke, "I can sense the Nymphs. At least another dozen of them, but they are twenty meters below us and closing fast."
Ramuh grunted, "I think it's time to bury this place."
Orion nodded, "Agreed." He nodded to Estrith. The former operative took off her helmet and sighed, looking slightly apprehensive.
Then, with steady hands, she pressed down on the trigger. An expectant silence followed, stretching on for a heartbeat that felt longer than it actually was. And just as doubt seemed to creep in, a rumbling tremor surged through the ground beneath them, an unmistakable sign that their plan was taking effect.
The earth seemed to respond to act, the ground quaking as if violently awakening from a long slumber. Dust and debris danced in the air as the vibrations grew in intensity, a growing crescendo of power that heralded the cataclysmic forces at play.
As the ground shook beneath their feet, a cascade of sounds filled the air—the cacophony of collapsing structures, the grinding of stone and metal yielding to the force of nature, and the thunderous roar of destruction echoing through the depths. It was a symphony of finality, a testament to their resolve, and a declaration that they would not be defeated. One could only imagine what the inside of the facility might have looked. Perhaps now it is just molten or super-heated slag. Whatever the case, the rumbling continued, and it looked as if even Travel Point Zeta might soon collapse.
It was time for them to leave. "In the tunnel, now!" Orion called out as the quartet began escaping, the tunnel guiding them toward the surface. They could see the setting sun, indicating that it was now early evening and dusk was upon them.
Finally, though, they reached the surface.
Emerging from the tunnel into the open air was a breath of relief, like waking up from a vivid nightmare and realizing it was over. The contrast between the chaos and darkness below and the fading light of the sun above was stark, a reminder that they had indeed emerged from the depths of Lareca's horrors.
The ground was still shaking, which prompted the group to start beating feet away from the source. Orion and the others must have run for what felt like ten minutes. Looking back, he saw the tunnel entrance collapse, sealing one of the few ways back into Lareca. All Orion could think was, "good riddance."
Finally, it all seemed to slowly end. The symphony of destruction reverberating below was now replaced by the gentle whispers of the wind amid the Grakia Savannah. Orion took off his helmet and enjoyed the breeze. Ramuh and Kuveer did the same, bearing similar looks of exhaustion and relief.
Estrith, still holding the detonator in her hand, gazed back at the horizon where the facility had once stood. Her breath seemed to catch, a moment of reflection on the significance of what they had just done. Finally, she looked to Orion, offering a nod that spoke volumes.
"So," Estrith asked as she idly dropped the detonator, "What now?"
Orion sighed and shook his head, "We wait for pick-up."
Estrith nodded with a smile, "Sounds good."
The sun continued its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape. It was a fitting end to this particular adventure.
Kuveer felt it prudent for the group to move further away from the epicenter of Lareca's collapse. It would reduce the chance of them being swallowed by a sudden sinkhole or something. No one argued against it.
Once they were a distance away, Estrith started working on checking everyone's wounds and addressing them as best she could. It was a miracle that no one had bled or been knocked out, but she saw that everyone would still need further healing and resting once they got back to the fleet.
Kuveer likely suffered from several broken ribs and probably even a puncture or two, but the Gemlord was a tough bastard. Ramuh and Orion's enhanced physiology meant that unless they suffered grievous wounds, they would be fine after a couple of days with an Apothecary. Estrith had several punctures and burns, but it seemed an Ambrosian-enhanced human also had a superior healing factor.
If nothing else, a biomancer could get them all back to normal. However, after what happened in the Terminal, everyone might have been slightly leery of them. Still, this meant that they survived that nightmare down below.
The landscape around them was bathed in twilight's soft glow, casting long shadows that danced across the grassy expanse. The tranquility of the Grakia Savannah seemed to envelop them, offering a moment of respite from the turmoil they had recently faced. Orion led the way, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the surroundings, ever vigilant despite the apparent calm.
Chances were high that a shuttle dispatched from the fleet was en route. But in case that option fell through, there was a settlement approximately 40 kilometers to the northeast, a beacon of civilization amid the wild expanse. The quartet proceeded in a muted cadence.
Estrith walked alongside him. Probably wanting to keep an eye on the containers that Orion was carrying. Although he did see the exhausted appreciation in her gaze. She must have been quite relieved at the outcome.
The rhythmic sound of their footsteps was accompanied by the soft susurrus of the grasses in the night breeze. The savannah stretched before them, and up above was budding starlight. It made Orion appreciate the beauty of this place. Their journey had been harrowing, but they did survive it.
Estrith's voice, when she eventually spoke, was hushed, "It's nice out, isn't it?"
Orion felt a small breeze brush his face, "It is."
Estrith seemed hesitant as she spoke, "Have you thought about what I asked?"
"I did," Orion replied but said nothing more. The Ambrosia orbs presented an issue but one that the Knight-Warden had already made his decision on. Seeing that she wouldn't get anything more, Estrith kept pace with Orion.
After another moment, Kuveer spoke, "Estrith, I've been wondering about something." His question cut through the silence, "You mentioned something about a legend involving a Dryad, yes?"
The question caught her off guard, "I did." She blinked before turning to look at the Gemlord, "Although I'm surprised you remember that."
Kuveer shrugged, "We have a long wait or a journey ahead. We might as well pass the time by talking." That made sense. Nothing was being picked up on short or long-range vox anyway. It might be hours before they saw anyone or anything.
As the landscape stretched out before them, she delved into the lore she had known since childhood. "The Dryad, the guardian of nature," she began, her voice carrying a touch of nostalgia. "My father used to share those tales with me. The Dryad and its counterpart, the Ent, symbolized the cycles of life and renewal in our world. A reflection of the dichotomy of existence – the struggle and the beauty, the poison and the vibrant colors, the thorns and the flowers." Her gaze momentarily drifted to the horizon as if tracing the silhouette of these legendary figures in the sky.
With a chuckle, she continued, her voice carrying a lilt of fondness, "Love and harmony combine, and around our souls entwine," Estrith continued, her voice softening with introspection, "While thy branches mix with mine, and our roots together intertwine." Her words flowed like a gentle breeze.
"It was a comforting tale for young minds, a relic from when Elegia was Municia. I have to imagine our civilization was very different back then."
Ramuh nodded approvingly, "It sounds like your people worshipped nature at one point. You Elegians might not be so disappointed being under the control of the Great Khan. We Chogorians find comfort in the plains, sea, and sky. Besides, my Primarch is a spiritualist and enjoys the bounties that every world naturally provides."
She gave Ramuh a grateful smile but shook her head, "Perhaps someday we'll be like that again, but for now, most of us put our faith in our abilities and history." She frowned at the data core Lev was carrying, "Although that last part will have to change."
Orion nodded, "You have the future to look forward to. Something better than before. Especially compared to whatever horror the Adamantium Compact had in mind." He'd want to know what happened to these bastards as well. The Unfaded must have taken the old leadership's descendants with them.
The group silently traveled before Estrith spoke again, quietly this time, "She must have died thinking about that story."
"You mean Ambrosia?" Orion asked, already knowing the answer.
Estrith nodded, "Sometimes when a person suffers from brain death, their minds enter into a deep coma. Ambrosia probably felt like she would grow into something for the good of Elegia, planting her roots into the world."
Orion knew what happened next, "Until the daemons got to her. They must have latched onto that memory and used it as a base for their forms. The Dryad and the Ent."
"The Nymphs were part of the stories as well. I guess those creatures down below found themselves enthralled, somehow." Estrith looked so disgusted with what happened in Lareca, "I hope she's finally at rest."
"I believe she is." Ramuh rumbled gently, "I completed my ritual. So I have to imagine what happened after was because of the daemons attempting to maintain their connection to this reality."
Estrith stopped and turned to the Stormherald, "Thank you again for that, Ramuh." She bowed to him and then turned to Kuveer, "Thank you as well, Kuveer." Offering a similar bow to the Gemlord. Amusingly enough, she didn't do the same for Orion.
Orion meanwhile wondered about the implications. Daemons were able to latch onto the dreams and myths of a people. That was a worrying realization. Perhaps something noteworthy enough to send back to his brothers. He'd need to do some research on this as well. Still, at least the threat to Elegia was nullified.
He did miss, however, the gentle smile being directed toward him by Estrith. Ramuh and Kuveer, meanwhile, noticed it and glanced at each other before rolling their eyes.
Approximately thirty minutes had passed since the cataclysmic obliteration of Lareca, yet the awaited rescue remained frustratingly absent. Orion's thoughts began to spiral into impatience, wondering why the Primarch's response took so long. He couldn't help but question if some unforeseen factor was playing havoc with their location chances. Especially with that huge smoke signal they made, it should have been an indicator of their location.
But someone eventually did find them. Just not anyone from the White Scars. Kuveer was the first to notice their approach, announcing quietly that a group of fourteen humans were sneaking toward them in the direction Orion's group was heading. The Knight-Warden suspected they weren't nymphs because they hadn't been attacked yet.
Gradually, the mysterious figures revealed themselves as operatives from Clear Sky, donning attire akin to Estrith's. A sense of relief and skepticism filled the air, but at least the Elegians hadn't been greeted with leveled weapons – a situation that would have roused Orion's ire.
From their midst, a voice emerged, addressing Estrith directly, "Operative Teron?"
The response carried a deliberate nuance as Estrith's clarification entered the dialogue, "Former operative. Or have the Elders not yet unveiled my exile?" Her tone was laced with a hint of dry irony, showcasing her detachment from the organization that once held her allegiance.
She removed a container from Orion's power armor and presented it to the Clear Sky operatives. "Take this back to your superiors. Ensure this encounter is confined to your ranks alone."
As the container was unveiled, revealing its contents, a stunned hush fell over the Clear Sky operatives. Their leader reacted swiftly, taking possession of the container and exchanging a nod with his comrades. Gesturing them to retreat into the concealment of their cloaks once more, the operatives dispersed with almost reverential gratitude. Estrith engaged in a brief, hushed conversation with their leader, indicating Orion, Kuveer, and Ramuh before departing without sparing a backward glance.
Orion also realized she hadn't given them the data core Lev was carrying. Curious.
Once the last operative was out of sight, Estrith explained that Clear Sky had been the one that got the signal sent by the group from inside Lareca and that the Imperial Fleet was only just learning about the abovementioned situation. Several ships were already on their way.
As the promise of rescue drew near, Orion's attention shifted to more immediate matters. A subtle glance at Kuveer and Ramuh confirmed what he suspected – their minds were undoubtedly abuzz with questions regarding the contents of the container handed over to the Clear Sky operatives. Despite their unspoken curiosity, neither had broached the topic, understanding that the present moment wasn't suitable for such discussions. Once they were safely out of this predicament, there would be time for clarity and explanation.
Thus, a veil of quiet anticipation enveloped the group as they awaited their extraction. Twenty minutes passed, marked by the sun's descent on the horizon, and then a call resounded over the vox. Swift confirmation codes were exchanged, and coordinates for the pick-up were swiftly relayed. Those moments slipped away in hushed anticipation.
Soon, the distinctive shape of a Stormbird aircraft emerged, a sight that marked the imminent end of their ordeal. As the Stormbird descended, a quartet of figures disembarked – three Stormseers accompanied by a lone Apothecary. At the forefront of this welcoming party was Jubal, a sight that made Orion internally cringe as he realized that this reunion was going to be awkward, to say the least. The impending debrief was bound to be a conversation he wasn't particularly looking forward to.
Jubal gave him and the others a once over with a smirk, "Captain Jesk, it seems you had quite the day? We were worried after your Arvus went quiet."
Orion shrugged, "As you can see, we survived. However, there is much to discuss. Contact the Khan. Tell him a daemonic threat was discovered on Elegia and promptly eliminated."
This caused the first captain to lose his smirk, "I see…this is worrisome, to say the least. But has it been resolved? My-my, you Eternal Wardens never disappoint when doing the unexpected."
16 hours later…
There was a process after anyone encountered a daemon. It often required a 12-hour observation period and examination. No exceptions were made, not even for Orion, esteemed as he was as a hero of the Eternal Wardens. The procedure mandated a twelve-hour observation period coupled with a comprehensive examination.
Given the varying injuries each group member had sustained, the assessment and healing conducted by the Apothecaries were imperative. Simultaneously, the Stormseers delved into their minds and spirits, ensuring the daemonic encounter hadn't left any lingering impacts.
Amid these procedures, Jubal took the opportunity to engage individually with each member of the Quartet. Orion suspected that Jubal's intentions were geared towards extracting a comprehensive narrative of the ordeal from each member's perspective. This realization injected a subtle tinge of concern into the Knight-Warden's thoughts. The group's diverse experiences during their time within Lareca raised a myriad of questions that demanded answers. Estrith's peculiar interactions with the ghostly Ambrosia, for instance, and Ramuh's engagement in a ritual amidst the taint of the warp, along with Orion's own audacious actions that seemingly defied the prudent course of seeking reinforcements from the White Scars.
Yet, in hindsight, second-guessing seemed an idle pursuit. What had transpired was irrevocable. All that was left was to face the impending debrief, to lay their experiences bare before the Khan and the scrutinizing eyes of Jubal.
When the news arrived that the Khan was prepared to engage with them, Orion felt mixed emotions. Eager to bring closure to this chapter, he was apprehensive and resolute. This was the moment to recount the events, admit mistakes, and hope their actions didn't warrant punishment.
Three hours later…
The debriefing took place deep within the private sanctum of the Swordstorm. There in the meeting room were Jaghatai Khan, Jubal, and Yesugei. The three of them looked very interested in what Orion and his companions had to say. Everything they brought back, sans Lev, was displayed on the table.
By now, the Khan's authoritative and measured voice reverberated through the chamber as he asked a simple question, "What happened down there?" prompting Orion and the others to recount what they discovered on Elegia.
It took quite a while to explain everything. Why the group was on Elegia, what they uncovered, what had happened to warrant the destruction of Lareca, and the daemonic threat that had been encountered. Explaining how they found those weapons or the Amborisa was probably the hardest part because of the extraordinary circumstances.
As the quartet's detailed account concluded, the Khan's expression shifted, his disappointment palpable. His voice carried a note of mock lament, yet the gravity of his authority remained. "So, there was something worth fighting here. You should have contacted me, Captain. I'd have appreciated the chance to kill something deserving of death."
Orion's response was laced with a wry grin, a hint of camaraderie in his tone. "Apologies, my lord. It was a spur-of-the-moment incident that unfolded after discovering the techno-organic tree." The Khan's affable demeanor offered solace, diffusing any tension that might have lingered.
Redirecting his focus, the Khan delved into the heart of the matter. "But this Lareca is buried under rubble?" His gaze landed on Kuveer, seeking an expert's perspective. "What are the odds of someone digging down to it?"
The Gemlord's response was laced with pragmatism. "They'd need to excavate through a hundred meters of rubble. While the Imperium might have the capacity to do so, it would be a wasteful expenditure of resources. The facility's remnants have effectively turned to slag or been obliterated. And I doubt the Elegians would find a reason to uncover it."
Jubal's voice echoed agreement, his visage etched with somber contemplation and incredulity. "The data core's revelations paint a gruesome portrait of the Adamantium Compact's deeds. That alone would be horrifying, but the deliberate intent to devastate their civilization and people…" The Laughing Khan shook his head, his gaze distant. "Revealing this information now could disrupt the emerging government."
"I agree in part," Estrith nodded, "Regardless, I request that the information be brought to light after stability has returned to Elegia completely."
The Primarch waved off her concerns with a gesture of understanding. "Agreed. That's a prudent approach. We shall require time to thoroughly review this data before deciding whether you three can use these again."
His gaze lowered to the peculiar weapons - the Scourge, Saber, and Scope. "These items warrant separate consideration. For now, they are to remain off-limits. They'll stay within the fleet until we can ascertain their safety for you three."
The Warhawk turned to the real prize sitting on the desk, the Ambrosia. "Estrith, your testimony claims that the spirit of a dead psyker, who bears the same name as the substance that caused all this turmoil, told you where to find a container of these?"
"Yes," She nodded, "It's all very complicated and outrageous, but the proof is right before you. That was the only batch of Ambrosia we could find." Orion glanced over at Kuveer and Ramuh, who either nodded or said nothing to deny what she said. They must have known by now that the other container given to the Clear Sky operatives was more Ambrosia. Yet they held their tongues.
Khan's demeanor lost its jovial tone. His response was marked by a discerning skepticism. "Nevertheless, a spirit offering gifts often harbors ulterior motives. I must admit that your lack of concern in heeding a disembodied voice, particularly amid a daemon incursion and originating from a spirit's vessel housing two daemons, gives me pause." It was an astute observation, one Orion could hardly dismiss.
"My lord, if I may speak?" Ramuh interjected, to which the Primarch nodded, "I carried out the final rites ritual, and I believe the spirit of Ambrosia was grateful enough to render us aid, particularly against the daemons who likely had been the reason why her spirit had been unable to pass on. I sensed no deception, nor was she fighting back while I tried to help her pass on."
Seeing the door of discourse slightly ajar, Orion stepped in to share his perspective. "While I, too, acknowledge a measure of apprehension regarding these events, I find it plausible that Estrith received aid from a presence within Terminal Amrita. The Ambrosia substance, regardless of its origin, stands as a tangible reward for our endeavors."
Jubal, keenly aware of the delicate balance at play, inserted himself into the conversation. "We do not question the value of the reward," he clarified. "However, the entity responsible for it necessitated a more cautious approach. Indeed, the mission demanded heightened awareness of potential risks when accepting favors from spectral entities. We anticipated a greater level of discernment from you, a son of the Temulun. Estrith and Commander Kuveer, though not absolved, can at least claim a lack of familiarity with the horrors you encountered below."
Jubal looked at Orion, "Captain, you and I will have a more private discussion about how this operation was conducted later." Jubal didn't look too happy, although he understood why. If something had gone wrong, it would be on the Khan's head to explain why one of his compliance suddenly developed into a daemonic incursion.
"In any case," Khan said once more, taking over the conversation with a lighter tone, "I am still quite pleased with the results and incredibly impressed with the four of you." The shift in tone was like a fresh breeze, his demeanor returning to a more cheerful disposition. "You have brought me great honor and treasure, along with eliminating a foe and threat growing in my realm. If we were back on Chogoris, I'd offer each of you a rich strip of land, a pick of horses, and villages to rule over in my stead."
He leaned back in his chair, his expression mixed with amusement and challenge. "Instead, I'll offer to spend some quality time with the four of you."
The quartet exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion palpable in the room. After a moment of processing, Orion decided to voice the collective bewilderment. "My lord, forgive me if I'm not understanding. What exactly does that entail?"
Jaghatai Khan chuckled heartily, his laughter resonating through the room. "That's for you to decide. I'll give you all a few days to contemplate it, but I expect a firm answer." His fingers drummed thoughtfully on the desk's surface. "For now, I need to confer with Jubal and Yesugei regarding the matters we've discussed. Until further notice, the four of you will refrain from engaging in operations beyond training. You're also to keep the events on Elegia confidential unless explicitly authorized. Meanwhile, take the time to rest; consider it an order."
Orion and the others had no intention of challenging the Primarch's wishes. He could sense that Khan wanted to delve into the details privately, which suited the Knight-Warden's preferences just fine. He imagined that Estrith was eager to retrieve Aelred as well. Once they were dismissed, the quartet left the room.
Ramuh expressed his intention to meditate and reflect on the recent events, while Kuveer mentioned he would check on his men. Both psykers assured Orion and Estrith that they were available if needed for anything. Just as they were about to part ways, Estrith stopped them.
"Wait," her tone conveyed uncertainty, "I wanted to thank both of you again. I know you must have realized what I gave to Clear Sky."
"Indeed," Ramuh affirmed, "It was another container of Ambrosia."
Kuveer nodded, his arms crossed thoughtfully, "We did wonder where you both disappeared to after we dealt with the Dryad. Now we understand." He glanced at Orion with amusement, "Jubal inquired about the amount we retrieved, but I simply told him it was the one container."
"Which is accurate." Ramuh shrugged nonchalantly.
"Let's be clear, neither of you owes us anything," Kuveer stated firmly, "The Khan got his prizes, and so did the Elegians. It's a win for everyone involved. No reason to make things complicated."
The Stormherald's gaze turned to Estrith, his expression softening, "All I ask is that when the time comes to enhance the Khan's chosen recipients with Ambrosia, you stand by his side."
Estrith's eyes held deep gratitude as she looked at the two psykers, "Thank you… my friends."
Kuveer waved off her gratitude while Ramuh smirked. Both men then took off in different directions, leaving Orion and Estrith to decide on their next move, which was quite obvious.
Orion was almost eager to see Aelred. He didn't even think it strange. A little bit of innocence right now would make for a good distraction.
Aelred was happy in the way only a child could be upon seeing Orion and Estrith at the door of the Kettins family unit. A young girl, Lucy, as he recalled Estrith saying, looked up in awe at seeing the Knight-Warden. Most humans, young or old, tended to react that way upon seeing an Astartes.
The reaction from the others on the deck was similar, fueling the ever-present rumors. Yet Orion felt a bit weary to let such things bother him now. As the trio walked back, Estrith effortlessly slipped into the role of a mother, attentively listening to Aelred's excited chatter about one thing or another.
Orion tried to shake off his somewhat disparaging thoughts about the child. It wasn't fair to fault a boy for his genuine enthusiasm, especially considering what his life had been like before finding himself under the care of the Knight-Warden. Given the dire state of the planet now, perhaps Orion could appreciate such innocent zeal more.
Upon entering their family domicile, Estrith instructed Aelred to freshen up, promising him they would discuss their adventure after dinner, but only if he behaved. Considering how well-behaved Aelred was, it was more of a playful threat than anything serious. He was mostly stratified with this answer after Estrith gave him a trinket that she swiped from Larcea (which was cleared of corruption.)
Once they were alone, Estrith turned to Orion with a more serious tone, "We need to come up with a story."
"Tell him whatever you think is best," Orion replied, his nonchalance evident, "I might check on things later in the evening."
He expected Estrith to either roll her eyes or agree, but instead, her right hand slowly reached out and touched his own, "Don't." She asked quietly, "Just stay. I don't want to make you feel you aren't wanted."
"Estrith," he began, his voice quieter, "You know that's not how I feel. I wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise." He didn't quite grasp where this conversation came from, causing a peculiar flutter in his chest. Her hand was warm, a simple sensation he fixed himself on amidst the tangled emotions.
"I know, but I want you to stay," she spoke softly, carrying a vulnerability that caught him off guard, "Because I still haven't had time to thank you, Orion."
He should have instinctively withdrawn his hand but found himself rooted in place. "This again? You don't need to thank me or anything. I was doing my job and was happy to help you."
"Could you please drop the 'Angel of Humility' act, just for a moment?" she chided him gently, her touch a reassuring anchor, "You confronted and destroyed daemons, effectively dismantled an entire facility, aided us in fending off an army of servitors, and did countless other things to help me and my people. Yet you act as though it's nothing."
He allowed a hint of a smile to tug at the corner of his lips, finding her words both endearing and teasing. "I'll admit," Orion began more earnestly, "Killing those two daemons wasn't nothing. I'll concede that much. But let's be honest, Estrith, you and the others played your part just as crucially. I simply aided in neutralizing the bulk of the threats."
She sighed, a mixture of exasperation and fondness in her eyes, "You really are insufferable sometimes."
For some reason, that comment amused him. He chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to come from deep within him, "Only sometimes?"
Her gaze held his, a softness there that he hadn't seen before, "I'm grateful, Orion. And I want you to stay because... well, just because." Estrith then looked a little bashful. "I can't do much else to show my gratitude otherwise."
Orion didn't know what else to really say. This was a rather earnest appeal by Estrith. There was something more to this conversation; he didn't know what. Only that he could feel the undertone. He figured there was no harm in staying. The Khan told him to relax anyway.
"Very well, if it means that much." He found himself agreeing, a small smile tugging at his lips. It felt right, like the natural choice at that moment. It didn't even occur to him that their hands were still intertwined.
Estrith chuckled, her eyes dancing with amusement, "Great, then, can you do me one tiny favor? Can you kneel real fast?"
"Kneel?" he repeated, caught off guard by the unusual request.
"You're a bit too tall for me to hug properly," she explained, a playful glint in her eyes.
He blinked, processing her words before a bemused smile crossed his features. She wanted to hug him? The idea seemed both absurd and oddly appealing, given their circumstances. With a mock sigh, he obliged, sinking to one knee before her. "I assume this is your first time hugging a space marine?"
Estrith laughed, a melodic sound that warmed his chest, "You could say that. I appreciate your flexibility, Orion."
As she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, he returned the embrace, albeit with the cautious gentleness he reserved for moments like this. The contact was brief, but enjoying this gesture in those few seconds felt appropriate.
Estrith's gaze met his once more as they separated, her expression softened, "Thank you for staying."
Orion's lips curled into a genuine smile, a rare sight for most but one he willingly shared with her, "Thank you for asking me to."
He expected the conversation to end or maybe one more quip or jest from Estrith. Instead, she surprised him by blushing before leaning her face forward. He wasn't prepared for when her lips gently brushed his own. It was a soft, lingering kiss.
When Estrith pulled away, she looked amused at the stunned expression on his face. "Just a little something for the Hero of Elegia," she teased, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of playfulness and something deeper. It was a daring move, one that left him momentarily speechless.
Finally finding his words, Orion managed a half-smile, slightly bemused, "I suppose that's one way to show gratitude." People were often happy to be kissed, which sent a strange warmth to his hearts.
Her laughter echoed in the room, a joyful sound that resonated with him in ways he hadn't experienced before. For the first time in a long while, it felt like he felt something more than duty or purpose. When she inevitably pulled away, Orion wasn't sure what the protocol was now.
Was that just a kiss between friends? Just a grateful but passionate gesture? Estrith couldn't have meant that in a romantic way. They were enemies, albeit briefly, just a few months ago. Did that matter, though? Considering everything that had happened already, this didn't seem that far-fetched.
Estrith seemed to recognize his confusion, her expression softening as she said, "We can talk about this some other time. But how about we spend some time with Aelred before starting dinner?" Orion was relieved that she would let the topic rest for now. To that end, the Knight-Warden wanted to help ease the awkwardness, and he got an idea.
"Do you mind if we invite some guests over?" Estrith seemed slightly puzzled by the question but didn't seem opposed.
"Sure? Who did you have in mind?"
Orion couldn't help but smirk mischievously.
Two hours later…
"You are seriously going to say to everyone in this room that a rice ball is better than fried potatoes?" Ramuh inquired incredulously as he peeled a potato with his hands while a dozen on the kitchen table were already peeled.
"They are certainly a much healthier alternative." Kuveer retorted as he carefully and skillfully made riceballs. The Gemlord had an intense look in his eyes as he prepared the treat.
Aelred, meanwhile, was sitting at the table and watching the two with a bit of awe. The boy had never seen a psyker, let alone a nascent Stormseer or a Gamma-level, so Aelred was probably waiting for Ramuh and Kuveer to perform a trick or something. The two recruited the young Elegian to help them prepare their contributions to dinner.
Orion's invitation to the pair was met with fast approval. Estrith was happy to have them along, especially to try out rice and potatoes. It showed how fast the four of them bonded. She had barely known either of them until a day ago, but battle tended to help forge close bonds with strangers. It was perhaps one of the few good things about war. That opportunity to quickly find friends.
And not to be outdone by their contributions, Orion had gone to help make something for dinner or, rather, for dessert. Estrith had been quite surprised and then amused to see the Knight-Warden making a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and shavings.
While she was beside him in the kitchen helping prepare a stew, the former operative was beside Orion, "I knew you liked chocolate, but you took up baking for it?"
"Why not?" Orion didn't see why this was so strange. It was the most logical conclusion to take if you had a love for a particular vice. "Many of my brothers can prepare our own meals. Just because the serfs tend to do it, doesn't mean we are incapable."
"I get that, but still, Captain Jesk baking a cake is just… cute." Orion winced at his craft being described as such. Estrith picked up on this and giggled. He knew better than to try arguing or explaining himself, so he just returned to preparing dessert.
A comfortable silence fell between them, even as Kuveer and Ramuh started arguing about the merits of seasoning for their beloved foods. Orion glanced over to see that Estrith had a small, almost bittersweet smile on her face.
"This is nice." She remarked quietly to Orion, "I can't remember the last time I did something like this for fun and with friends or family."
Orion nodded, "I know the feeling." There had been plenty of brothers he shared good memories with, and not all of them were alive anymore. For all his shortcomings with the Eternal Wardens, he did miss them and hoped that his kin were alright. His thoughts briefly drifted back to Orban, the infamous Skullface, and Orion wondered if he did this sort of thing once upon a time with his family.
Estrith looked at him, "I'm glad I get to make some good memories again. It's a nice change of pace."
After everything he had been through, that sentiment also felt much more personal, "Yeah." He was still trying to grasp what happened a few hours ago and their relationship, but that was a question for later. This little moment between two people was all that mattered to the Knight-Warden.
The dinner that evening was a good one. Maybe one of the best they all had within the last few years. Orion didn't know if he'd ever get the chance to have something like this again, but he made a promise to himself that, in time, they'd do this again. Because right now, these people are his family. The only ones that weren't Wardens, anyway.
It reminded Orion that blood only mattered so much when it came to forging bonds. Perhaps he would be a lot more comfortable now with the role of Father and Husband.
At that same time, with Jaghatai Khan…
The worst thing to receive was a lavish gift and dread. Nothing could spoil a victory or obtain a treasure if it felt like an unseen foe stepped over your grave. Jaghatai had spent the last few hours speaking with Yesugei and Jubal about what happened down below on Elegia.
And not entirely because of the daemonic threat but rather the number of conveniences left behind by the Unfaded. Captain Jesk reported finding these objects in a cache hidden by a psychic wall. That it lasted so long was a testament to the Unfaded's understanding of warp-technology.
Speaking of which, the technological anomalies recovered from this hidden cache were something else entirely as they seemed to be an almost perfect fusion of xeno, warp, and human technologies but miniaturized to an impossible degree.
The Scope used techno-organic principles to fuse itself with Estrith's Mag Rifle like a bloody parasite. Yesugei claimed it could see into the spirit world, a feat that the White Scars would have loved to replicate, while the tech-marines reported that it had a "war sprite" acting as the targeting system.
Meanwhile, the cavalry saber had layers of Geomantic Wards that acted as a channeling focus for a psyker on top of being a Transonic weapon. It could temporarily disrupt the surrounding geomantic currents, turning the battlefield completely in the wielder's favor.
Finally, the Arc Scourage had a bloody Empyreal Conduit. Its capacitors and coils were specifically designed to use warp energies before all else, making it uniquely suited for a Stormseer.
Three anomalies perfectly suited for the group that found them. That was beyond a coincidence; it was entirely planned. The Unfaded were aware, in some capacity, that Orion and his companions would find the hidden cache. Which meant they were clearly aware of the real threat that had been created on Elegia.
This leads the Khan to consider two possibilities, both equally uncomfortable. Either the Unfaded Horizons was a heretek so exceedingly skilled at manipulation, subterfuge, planning, and technological development, or they had an extremely powerful benefactor.
Either option brought disturbing implications. Their activities involved the creation of Ambrosia and Nectar via this Project Bloodworks confirmed that they were well aware of the potential such serums could have. The Khan didn't want to imagine an enemy force having an entire army of these Nymphs.
The Nymphs were also another issue. The Unfaded knew how to make them, especially if they took the Adamantium Compact scientists and leaders when they finally abandoned Elegia. As if the Khan didn't need another reason to find the Unfaded and destroy them.
Yesugei was likewise confused that a group like this would abandon their operations on Elegia because of a haunting at a single facility. His commune with the spirits of Elegia hinted that the Unfaded were likely in the process of leaving, but no one, dead or alive, had any notion of what might have caused their occupiers to finally leave.
Perhaps those two daemons were the real reason, but somehow Khan doubted it. Jubal was likewise skeptical, especially once they started reviewing the data core the quartet brought back from the facility. Estrith kept to his promise of obtaining information about the Unfaded and bringing it back to the Khan in exchange for the chance to hunt them down.
The data core confirmed that the Adamantium Compact, about 25,000 members of their science, military, and leadership, effectively surrendered their world to the Unfaded in exchange for clemency and a chance to be part of something greater. Khan now had a list of these traitors' names and further information about the Unfaded.
Such as a name for one of their leaders. Amkhotep, the Unveiled Hierarch. It was a pretentious title, but Khan didn't necessarily care. But more importantly, he knew where Amkhotep was: The Harilex Stars, controlled by an entity known as the Celestial Dominion. Perhaps that was the benefactor.
Focusing more on the good news, the treasure trove of Ambrosia was beyond amazing. It might not have had much use now, but Khan now had the means to create Ambrosian-enhanced humans. However, this was tempered by the reality that the Unfaded likely had been making quite a few more. The Imperium of Man was now engaged in a biological arms race. Good thing that Khan planned to win.
Still, his thoughts drifted to the more problematic substance that was Nectar. The Unfaded likely had quite a bit of time to refine it, and judging by the horrors that Orion encountered, they were already assembling all manner of abominations. The production of Nectar had to be stopped. Lest something like Chaos got their hands on it and started mass producing the substance.
Another war to handle in due time. For now, Khan would find solace in knowing Elegia was secured from all threats; both within and without.
Somewhere in orbit of Elegia…
The thousands of years of war had left many wrecks in orbit of Elegia. Most had been picked clean long ago, leaving only the metallic skeletal structures in their wake. Asteroids and other debris had also been caught in the gravitational pull, leaving more junk in orbit. The infamous Keppler Syndrome, although such a problem, was negated due to void-shields.
Like the world below, it was a graveyard of empires and invaders alike. No one thought or cared about whatever remained now. Even the Imperial fleet was hauling metals and debris for their shipbreakers to work on. A few salvaged wrecks remained, though. Forgotten or unseen among the corpses of a thousand hulks.
Certainly, no one would have picked up the transmission sent from the Grakia Savannah within the last 24 hours nor noticed a vessel that had been dead for over a hundred years suddenly becoming active and slowly creeping its way toward the Imperial fleet and then silently taking a spot next to one of the Mechanicum vessels.
A lost sheep that wandered back into the herd. When a challenge message was sent to the ship, it returned what should have been suspiciously old clearance codes followed by a binary cant.
"01001111 01101110 00100000 01110011 01110100 01100001 01101110 01100100 01100010 01111001 00101110 00100000 01001111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01101110 01100001 01110110 01101001 01100111 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110011 01111001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01101101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100100 01100001 01101101 01100001 01100111 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01010111 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01110001 01110101 01100101 01110011 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110000 01100101 01110010 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01110011 01110100 01100001 01111001 00100000 01110111 01101001 01110100 01101000 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101001 01101110 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100011 01100101 00100000 01100101 01101100 01100101 01101101 01100101 01101110 01110100 00101110 00100000"
The machine spirits warmly greeted their wayward kin, leaving the Magi confused and content with the outcome. Future attempts to send shuttles to the smaller ship were meant with denials, and servitor units would be sent over to collect replacement parts and aid in repair efforts on other vessels. When asked for identification, it would also respond back with more binary chatter.
"01010111 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01010011 01100101 01110010 01110000 01100101 01101110 01110100 00100111 01110011 00100000 01001101 01101001 01110010 01100001 01100111 01100101 00101110 00100000."
We are the Serpent's Mirage.
None cared to ask for more details. Everything checked out. Besides, everyone else was on a timetable. The Khan's fleet was preparing to move out soon enough. It would be time to leave Elegia behind for good. Yet those among the fleet would carry with them both a mission and a threat now.
