Author's note: This is a crossover, yes, with Warhammer 40,000. Yes, everyone will be able to follow it. Knowing nothing about Warhammer is NOT a problem. Just read it and treat it as an AU if you wish for all I care. Just don't not read it because of what its crossed with. Now that that's over with, this is just a prologue of sorts. The next chapter contains a full summary for the story setting. Now read, review, but most of all, enjoy!
Follow these instructions to get the unofficial theme song to 'What Must be Done': 'Silver Memory'. This site is really gay when it comes to putting weblinks and all that in stories, so I will try and get around whatever messes it up. The song can be found at newgrounds dot com, under the audio portal, and when you get there just do a search for Silver Memory. Simple as that. If you cant find it for whatever reason, just pm me and I'll email you the direct link to it. Its a really cool song.
Disclaimer: I own neither Tales of Symphonia or Warhammer 40,000. They belong to Namco and Gamesworkshop respectively. And the song Silver Memory on is the property of the newgrounds user 'hania'.-
Kratos gently eased open the ancient doors, glancing at the intricate runes and symbols which decorated their surface as they swung on old and creaky hinges. The dust poured thickly from the ceiling as the great doors opened entirely, hitting the walls with a thud. He glanced over his shoulder, cautious to make sure none saw him or heard the doors.
Stepping through the rain of dust and grime, Kratos looked around at the darkened chamber. He frowned, resting his right hand on his sheathed blade and letting the other hang limply at his side.
"This won't do..." he muttered, looking around and squinting in the darkness nervously. "A light would have been useful..." Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and walked into the dark, taking a final fleeting glance over his shoulder as he did.
As if on cue with his lamentation, the chamber was suddenly bathed in an eerie blue glow. It made seeing possible, but his vision was still poor. His eyes adjusting to the less than delicate light, he moved forward towards the far side of the chamber.
Looking around, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the place. He had never been inside before, but he had expected it to awe him beyond belief. In the end, it just disappointed him, hardening his resolve for what he was about to do.
The interior was rather bare, with just the occasional ancient wall hanging depicting mysterious scenes and ancient figures and the even rarer candelabra which gave off the blue glow that illuminated the chamber.
What did inspire a sense of awe and wonder within Kratos however, were the spider webs which hung from the walls and ceilings near the far end, where a small set of stairs led up to a large pedestal which pulsed with a deep blue energy.
The webs seemed to be made of crystal, and they shimmered and reflected beautifully in the blue light. They were woven with impossible intricacy, and Kratos wondered how any spider would possibly be capable of spinning such magnificent constructs.
Of course the answer was that no ordinary spider could. Only the warp spiders, microscopic guardians of the Fluir'haern, could manage it. Their presence reassured him of one thing at least - he was in the right place.
Walking past them, he ascended the stairs and stood before the small pedestal. He could feel warmth radiate from it as it pulsed with a strange energy. There was a small, tear-shaped indentation on the top where the energy seemed to gather, just big enough for his cargo.
Sighing, he drew a small, tear-shaped stone out of a pouch on his waist. It glowed an almost malicious shade of crimson, so much like that of blood. He could hear screaming echoing in his ear, and the rhythmic beating of a thousand dieing hearts as he lifted it over the indentation.
Shutting his eyes against the torrent of mental screams and resistance to his horrendous act, he plunged the stone into the pedestal.
Stumbling backward down the stairs, desperate to get away from the stone and the pedestal, he fell onto his back. Looking up at the pedestal, he saw thick tendrils of black smoke rise from the stone slowly as he heard in his mind the collective cries of agony from thousands of souls as they died, slowly and painfully.
The black smoke began to coagulate into a thick crimson mess which rained on the floor along with a quiet but all to real laughter resonating from seemingly nowhere.
Blood, and the madness of the maelstrom he had opened in the most holy of places. Sha'iel erupted in a storm of electrical bolts, searing walls and shattering the magnificent webs in spectacular explosions of billions of tiny glimmering shards.
It poured thickly down the stairs as the cries of pain filled the air around him, no longer contained within his mind. Covering his ears and screaming, he got up and ran as fast as he could from the sight.
Reaching the doors, he slammed them shut and set his back against them, sinking to the floor and openly weeping. He shot up instantly when a great force pounded on the inside of the doors. Painful moans and vicious snarls could faintly be heard on the other side as something banged on the door, trying to get out, trying to slaughter him.
He fell away from the massive, rune encrusted doors, allowing them to automatically seal themselves with countless wards and psychic locks, trapping the monstrosities he had unleashed within. On his hands and knees before the door, he wept, his heart and mind weary from the pain he himself had spawned and let loose on his departed kinsmen.
"Mother Isha...forgive me..."
Standing up, he wiped his eyes and set his view straight ahead, his eyes burning with red hot passion and desire. He felt a sudden surge of sadness amongst his growing anger, and pulled a necklace bearing a small tear-shaped stone out from under his clothes where it had rested against his bare chest.
Cradling it in both hands, he regarded its perfectly smooth and blue surface, running his fingers over it slowly. He sighed deeply, putting the necklace back under his clothes and looking straight ahead once more, his eyes cold and heavy with sorrow.
"...Are these the sacrifices that must be made...for our future? Is this truly...what must be done...?"
The image of a thousand whispering faces with a thousand different tongues and features flickered across his mind's eye for a brief second, so sudden and quick he barely registered that he had seen it at all. Sighing, he took a step away from the doors and did not glance back, walking toward the habitat zones, his eyes radiating an evil darker than any night.