Good day to you all Brothers! Enjoy and read the Authors note at the end.
KILL TEAM FORTUNA
A not so long time ago in world you all know...
The date was October 29 and Halloween was just right around the corner. As one of the most celebrated holidays in the US, it was popular for its tradition of sharing creative tricks, rewarding sugary treats and allowing costumes of the fun and thrilling variety to be worn in public. But for a group of friends living in the suburbs of some far off town in America, it was a time for kicking back and enjoying a relaxing week of pure gaming.
Among an ocean of plastic parts, mountains of cardboard boxes and specialized tools for tinkering, a young blond man was hard at work…
Or at least he looked like he was working. Unfortunately, his concentration lay elsewhere.
Come on finish up already. Why does it have to be so slow! He thought with a sigh.
The young man glanced at his wrist watch before craning his head to look at a group of machines that were stacked on top of each other on the other side of the room . Most of them looked empty save for one that was in use.
"Fuck it. I'm too distracted." He decided and set aside the miniature he had been painting and wheeled his chair over to the 3D printers location.
Through the glass frame of the machine he could see the robotic limb moving animatedly over an object with meticulous purpose. The object in question was a handle for a weapon prop he had been working on for the past week or so. It was almost complete and just needed this particular piece. This would've been done much earlier but he was lacking in materials… which were becoming quite expensive to obtain these days.
3D-printing has been trending lately after all.
"Yo, Jay! A little help here?"
Still... would it kill them to reduce the price on the low quality filaments? He silently mused. Twenty bucks for only 150 yards of length? Really?
"Bro-Jay! Hey!"
"Maybe I'm just not looking hard enough." The blond mumbled with eyes still glued to the printer.
"Jaune!"
Jaune jerked his head back to find an irritated looking male with short brown hair and garbed in a Space Marine costume of the Space Wolves chapter. The light blue color of the armor and especially the black wolf-emblem painted over one of the gigantic yellow pauldrons was a dead giveaway. Jaune raised a brow curiously at him and wondered why the male was holding that Jump Pack up?
"Do you mind?"
Like a light bulb, the blond perked up and scrambled out of his seat, realizing belatedly of his friend's little dilemma. "Oh, sure!-My bad, Barratt. Give me a sec."
His friend grunted in reply and presented his back to him. Jaune quickly moved into place and tried to position the plastic imitation he'd been handed, absently noting the peculiar sockets the pack needed to connect to for it to hold.
"You know for something made entirely of plastic and completely hollow, it still weighs a lot."
"Tell me about it." Barratt agreed with a nod. "I was seriously considering just going Tactical instead of Assault. Jump packs aren't a requirement for wielding a Chainsword and Bolter combo anyway."
"But you'd still want the extra prop for the realism, right? Trying to one up the others?"
"Dude, they chose Assault too. Their packs are over there."
Jaune glanced over at the corner his friend had pointed out and saw similar pairs of jump packs lying atop a worktable. The only differences came from the color schemes that each prop sported; black and red respectively.
"There's really nothing to show off…"
Jaune hummed in understanding and finished hooking the last straps together. He gave the pack a quick tug to test its stability and to let his friend know he was finished before stepping back to admire the full ensemble in its entirety.
Technology these days have sure come far...
"Well, how do I look?" Barratt asked as he struck a pose, fake Bolter and Chainsword raised in mock action. "Good enough for Hollywood?"
Jaune crossed his arms and smirked. "You've no idea. 40k fans will not leave you in peace come this Winter Convention."
"Yea? Then thank the God-Emperor for 3D-printing!"
The blond chuckled in good humor at his friend's playfulness as he made his way back to his seat. He, unfortunately, still had to wait for that damned handle to finish.
"Just don't forget about Vincent and Reymond!" He commented just he sat down. "Without their help these wouldn't be possible."
"Them too!" Barratt included without pause as he ambled to the door. "Now for some food. I'm Starved."
However, the Space Wolves fan ended up stopping short of the door when his smartphone rang from the opposite end of the room. Jaune noticed this too and quickly snatched it from the adjacent desk. The phone was buried deep within a pile of codex rule books.
Having glanced over the caller ID, Jaune tossed the grey colored device over to Barratt without a second thought. The caller was a mutual friend. Probably wanted to tell them he was on his way over or something.
"Yes, hello?" Barratt greeted as he stepped out the door. "Hansel? Yea! Most of the guys are already here. Just waiting on you and Rey… what was that? Jaune…? I think so. Let me ask. Yo Jay!"
"Sup!" answered the blond, turning back towards the door.
Barratt poked his head back inside with the phone pressed to his ear. He looked exasperated as he rolled his eyes.
"Hansel is asking if your going to wear your costume too. He's planning to post a pic of us on Instagram."
Jaune pursued his lips for a moment before nodding. "...Tell him I'll be ready before he gets here."
"He said 'yes.'" Barratt relayed and ducked out of the room, sparing only a quick thumbs-up to the blond just as he left.
Returning his attention on the printer, Jaune couldn't help but let out a sigh. The progress of his project hadn't gone very far in the past 10 minutes. In fact the handle still had a few inches left to go.
Thankfully for Jaune, there were many ways to kill time. One of them was working on his costume that had been neglected after being painted and polished. Another was...
*Growl*
Searching for food.
"Lunch time!" Jaune declared resolutely and quickly followed after his friend.
The blond found the same friend munching happily on a slice of piece in the kitchen, having claimed the stool nearest to the entrance. Across from him, on the other side of the table and tapping away on a white colored smartphone, sat another costumed figure belonging to the infamous Blood Angels chapter. It took a kind gesture of being presented with a plate of pizza for Jaune to make out the person's identity behind the crimson helmet.
"Thanks Vince." the blond accepted the food with a grateful smile and slid onto the empty stool a seat away from Barratt.
"No probs!" Vincent, The Blood Angel, replied enthusiastically with a small nod. He gestured towards the a pile of pizza boxes sitting on the countertop behind him. "There's plenty more where that came from so eat up."
"I will." Jaune agreed after taking the first bite. "Where's Christian at? I thought he was helping you."
"He did. We finished early so he's in the next room setting up a map for a rematch with Rey."
"Never expected him to hold a grudge over a game." Barratt commented absently as he sauntered over to the fridge to claim a can of drink. "Was sure Reymond was the type for that. Jaune, beer or soda?"
"Any Corona left? If not, I'll take a Dr. Pep."
"Rey was the one asking for the rematch. But it's all for fun." Vincent continued as he set aside his Blood Raven helmet in favor of combing his dark brown hair with a hand. "Damn this thing is hot."
"Score was 17-12 right? Favoring Chris?"
"Not sure. I wasn't keeping track."
"Don't look at me." Jaune laughed and waved a hand to ward off the questioning/hopeful glances. "I've been too busy at work so I'm behind on the news. Best to get it straight from the horse's mouth."
"Speak up the devil and he shall appear." Vincent quoted and inclined his head to the side. "Welcome back."
Both Jaune and Barratt turned in time to see another Space Marine cosplayer lumber into the room. The proud and infamous color of the Ultramarines chapter was displayed among the white color scheme of a apothecary.
Their friend Christian had joined them for lunch.
"Greetings my friends." The rich Russian accent of his voice brought some smirk to the group of friends. "I see you've found my supplies of beer. Taste good, yea?"
"Definitely." answered Jaune as he took another sip of his Corona.
"Perfect timing too, bro. We were just wondering what the score was between you and Rey." Barratt said.
"We tied last game. 6-6 even." Was the automatic response from the newcomer. He was apparently aware of their discussion.
"We were so off." Vincent shared a grin with the rest and regarded the Ultramarine fanboy. "Pizza?"
"Da." Chris smiled and took the last stool of the kitchen, only apologizing sheepishly for accidentally thumping Jaune on the head with his large pauldron as he was passing. "Combo please."
"Coming right up!" Vincent responded enthusiastically, going so far as opening a fresh beer to go along with the meal. Of course his costume made it hard for him to maneuver around to get what he needed. So it took much longer than expected… especially when he spilled his own drink in the process. "Oops. I'll clean that up!"
Jaune and Barratt in turn conversed heartily with their Russian friend, fielding jokes and jabs and even asking some honest questions that Chris was more than happy to answer. The blond for the most part enjoyed kicking back and observing his friends relaxing.
After a grueling three weeks of work at the local warehouse, Jaune needed a good break. So he was milking this five days off for all it was worth.
The very first order of business was of course the annual game night he was hosting tonight and then Halloween a couple days later. The remaining break would be spent relaxing at home catching up on some reading or working on his 40k army.
Then again finishing up that one anime Hansel suggested months ago was a pretty good idea too.
Jaune was shaken out of his musing by the white, over-sized hand of Christian's costume.
"Is that your alarm ringing?" He asked.
Brows furrowed in confusion. Jaune fished out his phone thinking it was the one ringing before realizing the loud beeping sound was coming from upstairs. A grin broke his confused expression as he pushed off his seat and suddenly bolted out of the kitchen.
"Finally! It sure took its damn time."
There's only one annoying machine programmed to make that big of a sound and it definitely wasn't his alarm clock.
Bewildered by Jaune's reaction, Christian shot a questioning glance at the others who resumed eating. Barratt had practically wolfed down his meal in seconds and was shooting three pointers at a trash bin with the crusts he refused to eat.
"What was that about?"
"A prop. Don't worry about it.' Barratt said and patted the Ultramarine's shoulder. "Now how about a quick game while we wait for the others?"
Date: October 30, 1942
Time: 0450 hours (Military)
Location: Somewhere along the English Channel
Across a vast, quiet surface of the ocean, a lone Witch flew silently in the air. The winds ruffled her silver hair and made the skirt of her attire flutter in a way that did little disturb to her peaceful mood. The moon was no longer in the sky to guide her way, overtaken by dark clouds that have yet to act on its load. Only the manifestation of her magic's unique characteristic made for any source of light.
But she was fine with that, Magic allowed for some night vision capabilities that she'd trained and honed years prior to her service, perfected even further now that she's been active in the frontline. A little darkness won't impede her in the slightest, really.
Sanya V. Litvayak sleepily stretched an arm out in front of her while the other secured the Fliegerhammer, a portable rocket launcher, that had loosened from the straps of her back. She was headed back to HQ, a large base of operations for the 501st Strike Witches Fighter Wing located near the shores of Folkstone, Britannia, to make a report and earn some much needed rest after finishing another night of patrol.
She was not accompanied by her best friend this time, but the young Orussian Witch suspected tomorrow night's patrol would see the Soumus Witch flying by her side once more.
Eila, her newest and dearest friend, was an excitable and mischievous girl who seemed to dislike leaving her side. Ever since they were introduced together almost a year ago, they've been almost inseparable, never finding the others presence unwelcoming or uncomfortable. Sanya appreciated the friendship they shared since she lacked such friends in the world if she discounted the teammates she had in the past and now in the present.
Having a constant companion willing to share the night with her during her patrols, was a blessing to Sanya. Those particular night shifts made her feel warm and happy, ecstatic even. These were the feelings that the Orussian Witch kept close to her heart as she braved these trying times of darkness and loneliness.
Sanya exhaled a breath of warm air as she glanced at the clouds above, stowing her thoughts for the moment. She estimated her flight to be another half hour before reaching base. Tonight had been an uneventful one like so many nights before.
The enemy. The dreaded Neuroi... had not been active as of late. At least during the night. Attacks or suspicious activities have slowly died after the last conflict with a particular evasive Neuroi a month ago. This has left High Command weary and more paranoid than usual unfortunately. Thus Sanya's patrol routes had nearly doubled and lengthened in time. Where she once spent 6 hours patrolling the seas and the coasts of Britania from 2400 hrs to 0600 hrs, now she worked a 9 hour shift starting from 2000 hrs to 0500 hrs just to include some scouting pass the Gallian front lines.
Being who she was, Sanya made no complaints and moved forward like she always did. Her dear friend however….
Well, it was said that the Orussian Witch had to keep her confined in bed via snuggling when one of the higher ups came to visit their base not too long ago. It surprised Sanya how easy it was to quell her friend's righteous anger with a simple hug and suggestion of sleep.
- Good morning Sanya. Can you hear me?-
The familiar voice of her superior broke her musings, prompting Sanya's cat ears to twitch a few times before she found her voice.
-I hear you loud and clear, Commander Minna. Goodmorning.-
Even through Magical means of communication her 'voice' sounded far too soft to the ears.
-Wonderful. I hope your patrol has been peaceful last night, much like it has been for the past few weeks. Is there anything to report today? Anything unusual?-
-No. Nothing of any sort... Although it may rain today.- Sanya added as an afterthought. - Apart from that, it was quiet.-
-Good to hear. When you get back there's a plate of blueberry pancake waiting for you. Supplies also arrived real early today so I'll request some warm milk to help you sleep better.-
Touched by her superior's thoughtfulness, Sanya couldn't help but smile warmly despite having no one around to see it. -Thank you, Commander. I appreciate the thought-
-I'll see you soon then. Fly safe. Over and out.-
Motivated by the reward awaiting her, the Orussian Witched channeled just a little more magic into her Striker and sped forward. This was probably one of the only times Sanya would act a little recklessly when it comes to using her striker and magic.
However, just as she made it pass the 15 minute mark of her travel, the clouds that had slowly built up in the past few hours, finally unleashed its heavy burden. Flashes of lightning were quickly followed by the ominous rumble of thunder within its bloated stomach.
Sanya was startled by the sudden change in weather and stopped to hover in place. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the few droplets of rain that trickled down from the sky. It'll be pouring like cats and dogs soon, but that wasn't what the Orussian Witch was looking for.
Because in that instant between the lightning and the thunder, she heard something strange. A sound, maybe a voice, of something she hadn't heard before. Sanya could simply pass it off as exhaustion finally taking its toll on her senses, but no. She couldn't. Whatever that sound was...
It was definitely not of Neuroi origin.
Activating her special magic and arming her weapon, Sanya flew home as fast as her striker could take her, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the dark sky above.
-Commander, I've something to report… -
With his proud work of art strapped to his thigh, Jaune headed downstairs with a slight bounce to his steps. Hardened plastic painted the same color as his namesake, adorned his body like a medieval knight's armor. While underneath the slabs and intricate plastic was a skin tight bodysuit of a pitch black color, painstakingly made to bear and secure the dazzling cosplay armor. And unlike his friend's costumes, the likes of which encumbered their wearers movements by a certain degree and appeared bulky in the eyes of an observer, this particular variant was made more to fit an actual human physical anatomy with mobility in mind.
Granted it still look clunky and far too restrictive to wear. But meh, Jaune didn't really care. So long as he can wield the plastic Combat Knife attached to his lower back and perform poses with the Heavy Bolt pistol he had on hand, he was pretty satisfied with it.
"Guys?" The blond called out when he reached the kitchen and found it empty of his friends. "Where'd they go?"
Searching the living room, dining hall and even the basement turned up nothing. The tv in the living room was still on and obviously Super Smash Bros. Ultimate was running with the game paused in what seemed like an intense fight between an Inkling and Falco, while the controllers lay hastily abandoned on the couch. It was like his friends vanished out of thin air, leaving their belongings behind.
Confused, Jaune pulled off his Reiver helm and scratched the back of his head as he returned to the main hallway of the bottom floor. From there he noticed the front door cracked open and familiar voices coming from the outside.
No sooner did Jaune decide to investigate did Barratt swing the door open and make his way in, nearly headbutting the blond in the process.
"Dude! That was close!"
"B, what's going on?" Jaune asked as the Space Wolf cosplayer stepped pass him with a sense of urgency.
"Package outside. Real big one. Gotta open the garage." Barratt said before disappearing into the mentioned room.
"Package..?"
Did they order something? Jaune couldn't remember.
A minute later found the blond observing an assorted color of Space Marine Cosplayers trying to push a sizable, wooden crate into his and Barratt's garage door, seemingly struggling to get the job done if the grunting and grumbling was any indication. The new additions that brought their numbers up to an even 6 shared nearly the same color scheme of black and white. If not for the large pauldrons designating their respective Chapters, and that one of them had a makeshift Servo-harness on his back, Jaune was sure he was looking at a pair of twins.
They eventually accomplished their self-imposed task and relished in patting each others backs or simply taking a seat on one of the metal folding chairs to catch their breath. The garage was rather big and could fit two Ford Trucks if they wanted to, but at the same time seemed a little small with all the junk and laundry scattered about. Thankfully Jaune and his friends' cars managed to fit in the driveway so one side of the room was largely vacant for them and their mystery package.
The two new arrivals gave Jaune a quick greeting before walking back to the black truck parked beside his white Camry. They mentioned something about snacks and armies, but Jaune's attention was drawn to the crate itself, eyeing it curiously before walking around it in search of a label.
He didn't have to look very far and found the package information printed on one corner facing the side door of the garage. His name and address, bar code and dates were there… but that was it. Strange.
Jaune suspected further details were inside somewhere.
"I'll grab the crow bar, yea?" Christian volunteered, already heading for the side door. "You kept it in the shed…?"
"Yea…" Jaune answered. "There should be two so bring them both."
The Ultramarine nodded and stepped out. At that same moment, Barratt stopped to stand beside him, having finished clearing some of the junk around the crate. They would need the space for whatever was inside here.
"Did you order something from Amazon?" Barratt asked.
"No. Not that I could remember."
"Well, this has your name on it so… maybe someone sent it?" Vincent ventured as he stood on Jaune's other side.
"Definitely possible." But exactly from whom was a question they left unasked.
The package could be from an acquaintance or a friend. Hell, it could be from one of their parents or siblings, relatives even. There was a lot of possibilities, really. However, these thoughts were quickly shelved when the rest of their friends rejoined them.
The one in the Raven Guard costume held his helm on one side, revealing a youthful looking boy of 16 with tanned skin and short, spiked hair. Beside him an older boy who looked close to entering his final year in high school, and bore the dark and grey scheme of the Iron Hands Chapter, was just storing away a pair of glasses and running a hand through a slick black hair, dark eyes roaming the crate with interest.
These two were the last of Jaune's inner circle of friends; Reymond and Hansel. Raven Guard and Iron Hands fanboys, respectively.
"Stuff put away?" Jaune asked them.
"Most of it." Answered Hansel. "We left our bags on the couch if that's cool with you guys. Do you want me to close the garage or...?"
"Please." Smiled Barratt.
Reymond stepped towards the crate and knocked on its wooden surface just as the garage door closed. "So you guys going to open it or what?"
Jaune nodded. "Yea… just waiting on Chris."
"I'm here! It took me a little longer to find them. They were hiding from me." Chuckled the Ultramarine cosplayer. "Here you guys go~"
Surprisingly, the process of opening the package wasn't as difficult as the friends originally thought. Opening one side of the box was all it took to unfold the rest, revealing its mysterious contents to the lighting fixtures above. It also spilled a fuck ton of popcorn pellets- the type of materials used for ensuring the physical safety of the package's contents.
Needless to say the mess was frowned upon by the two owners of the house, drawing more than one migraine and face-palms of irritation. They should've expected that...
But of course what they found inside had the Space Marine Fan boys jumping on it like vultures to a meat- Jaune and Barratt not included- completely erasing whatever plans of cleaning the mess up.
"Holy Emperor! VR sets! 6 of them? I've never seen these designs before…" Hansel gushed and examined the aforementioned devices wrapped in bubble wrap.
Reymond whistled from behind and took a close look at the one nearest to him. The object closely resembled the shape of an actual Astartes Helm. The only difference was it was painted black and had the VR symbol printed directly between where the eyes would be. "Cool looking headgear… but where are the gloves? Controllers? Is this like the nervegear from SAO?"
"I think these bracelets are the controls." The Iron-Hands fanboy lifted up a black looking bracelet with a small screen and buttons running along its length. "Weird looking, but must be a new product."
"Bro, never mind those." Vincent said and physically drew the others' attention to the center of the crate itself. It was a large black object nearly three meters in length, a pillar of sorts with six sides, and had multiple bars clasped all around it. "What is this thing?"
"A part of the VR gear maybe?"
"Could be." Agreed Hansel.
"Da… it looks more like those seats we ride on those roller coasters, no? Those special types where you stand in place rather than sit down." The ultramarine fanboy cleared some of the popcorn pellets from one section and proceeded to test it out, quickly finding the objects mechanism and drawing a guard rail down to his chest and shoulders. "See? There's even a place for your feet."
"Dude thats cool!" Vincent exclaimed as Hansel and Reymond eagerly jumped to tryout the machine themselves, taking other sections on different sides.
"Welp, now we know exactly why it was so damn heavy." Barratt said to Jaune. "Can't believe we even managed that."
"Hey I was doing most of the work!" Claimed Reymond. His cocky grin dropped in favor of returning a middle finger at Barratt who had rolled his eyes and started the offending gesture.
"Dream on Rey. You still need to get to our level of guns if you want to impress anyone."
"WEY, buffed as a bull? No thanks."
The blond wasn't paying much attention to the two's friendly banter at this point. Rather he was interested in the folded paper that had coincidentally slid to his feet during the opening. It was small in comparison to what other packages provided before and it lacked a booklet or manual of sorts. Jaune wondered if it was buried underneath the sea of foams somewhere.
Shaking his head, the blond unfolded the paper and began reading the...letter?
["
Ref Inq/1099711-11337/FTGE
Author: Inquisitor G.W.
Subject: Call to Arms
Location: Unknown
Sector: Unknown
Access Grade: Inquisition Classified
Jaune A. Shepard,
This may be sudden but you have been chosen to be one of many thousands of participants to take up arms against the enemies of the Emperium. Even as you read this letter, decisions are being made and many others like yourself are being reborn across countless worlds thought to be nonexistent.
The God Emperor's will is in motion at last and he requires your help. So I implore you. Gather your companions and build a team to combat the threats lurking in the shadows. Select your field of expertise, arm yourselves accordingly and earn experience and power through a journey like no other. In order to fulfill a purpose, a destiny that countless billions would die to claim. And though the path may appear bleak and perilous the light of His will shall be there to guide you.
Steel yourself Jaune A. Shepard and alongside your companions become the heroes that will be portrayed in legends, exalted champions that Humanity desperately needs in these times of endless chaos and countless wars. Do not falter for the very fate of an Empire and the lives of all that embody it rests delicately on you now.
Will you step into the glorious light of the God Emperor and fight for the righteousness of His cause? Or will you fall to ignorance and be pulled into the void of painful oblivion?
The God Emperor protects... You have the potential, Jaune. It's up to you to take that first step.
.
.
Inquisitor G.W.
"]
Jaune had no words to describe how utterly baffled he was. Not to mention impressed at the degree the sender of the package had gone to make him feel like he was role-playing as some sort of agent of the Inquisition; an Acolyte if he remembered the term.
He wasn't even sure if he should applaud the guy or criticize him for leaving out the instructions for the damn device he sent.
"Looks like this came from Games Workshop you guys." Jaune announced to the rest as he passed the letter onto Barratt to read. Who else would have the initial GW? "I probably won an event in one of their conventions that I forgot about. Must have been a raffle or something."
"Maybe." Barratt muttered, sounding rather skeptical.
"Da. That explains why there's a game here too." Added Christian as he walked over and handed a blue case. "Found that taped to the top of that… Rig? Don't know what to call it but I think it's some sort of console for us to play on."
The game was encased in blue plastic case the same size and design as a normal PS4 game. A Space Marine of an unknown chapter brutally killing a Xenos in an epic picturesque movement had dominated the front cover, nearly covering the background of what look like Earth. Apart from the title "Eternal Crusade 40k: Worlds at war." Jaune noted the lack of labels and proper licencing on the back.
Oddly enough the suspected game's rating was not "M" for "Mature" (18+) but an "A" for "Adults Only" (19+.)
"Well...looks like Rey and Hansel can't play this." Jaune mused out loud. "Sorry guys. This game is for us adults."
"What?!" The cries of protest from the 2 youngest members of their circle was certainly musical to the older boys' ears. They were in sync too! "That's not fair!"
"Haha….I'm just playing," Laughed the blond.
"Uh guys?" Vincent raised a hand and gestured at the large machine, voicing a question that had the rest blinking owlishly for a good minute. "How are we going to get this inside?"
Date: October 30, 1942
Time: 1337 hours (Military)
Location: several miles away from the town of Condette, Gallia.
Darjeeling de Hemricourt De Grunne, acting Land Witch Commander of the 501st Steel Witches Mechanized Armored Infantry, A Company observed the small task force she commanded. They were heading down a muddied path to an objective some leagues away, trudging slowly in silence with weary eyes and tense hands clutching onto their chosen weapons of war.
Many within their ranks, young and old; new recruits and veterans alike, looked dead on their feet or seemed distant from their usual self, almost shunning those few who still carried a spark of life in them- of a hope they unceasingly shared with the others. Those witches were so few in numbers that Darjeeling could count them on one hand ...
It was a depressing thought.
Tearing her eyes away from her troops, the blonde commander surveyed her surroundings and let out a dejected sigh as she adjusted her black cap to shield her face from the cold rain. Mother Nature was obviously not happy today, choosing to make her displeasure known in the only way she could, and Darjeeling felt that Lady Fortune was not smiling either. Bad weather, rough terrain and a declining moral? Things were not going well for her today.
The only silver linings that Darjeeling could see in this depressing day was the Air Support they'll be receiving in the operation and the warm meal awaiting her back at the base. The traditional afternoon Tea with select members of her squad was also something not to be missed. Darjeeling promised herself she would return safely for that.
"Comma- I mean, M-Ms. Darjeeling." Called a voice.
"Yes...?" The blonde answered, glancing sideways to ascertain the person she was speaking to before returning her gaze upfront. "What is it, Miho?"
Miho Nishizumi, a young girl of 15 with short brown hair and riding on a Panzer IV patterned Ground Striker Unit (GSU,) timidly tried to keep pace as she spoke. "A-ano… the others are wondering if we could, um, take a small break soon."
"Oh?"
The blonde witch contemplated silently as she regarded the troops behind her. The majority of them returned the attention with mixtures of hope and uncertainty while the rest remained vigilant. She herself wanted the break, but first she had to really think about it.
High Command was expecting a Neuroi attack today. Their target was assumed to be several towns and FOBs previously garrisoned by allied forces. A nation wide alert was sent out and a defense force was deployed for the possible conflict.
The primary objective of her Task Force was to evacuate the civilian population of Condette, a small town in Gallia just a couple dozen miles away from the Front-lines, that included a number of villages that fueled the Town's small economy. Several other Task Force were assigned to assist in the operation, but their main duty lay in preventing any Neuroi ground forces from wreaking havoc during the evacuation, effectively placing them close to the frontline borders where they were to bunker down and await the enemy. Darjeeling's own small force was to provide reinforcing elements once their task was completed and from there the secondary objective of defending the Gallian front lines would commence.
Looking at how much progress they've already made, the blonde Brittanian figured they could afford some respite. By her watch, they were well ahead of schedule, their destination about seven-kilometers away. No more than thirty minutes of travelling with the speed they were making.
"I suppose a small break is acceptable." Darjeeling finally decided. "We'll stop at the bridge up ahead. Can you let them know that Miho?"
A grateful smiled and enthusiastic salute sent a warm feeling in Darjeeling's heart. This was shared with the rest of her unit when the word spread around. Small cheers and reinvigorated conversations brought the moral up. If only she can indulge in those positive emotions regularly, then fighting this war wouldn't be so tiring.
Conceiving the 6th sigh that day, Darjeeling continued to lead her force forward. The raining had slowed down so she wondered if Mother Nature had finally expelled all her anger. The dark clouds were slowly parting as rays of light from the afternoon sun were beginning to shine through.
Maybe Lady Fortune had finally graced us, Darjeeling thought with hope.
"Finally! Praise the sun!"
"My skirt is all dirty now." One of her close friends, a girl name Rosehip, complained.
"Lady Darjeeling."
Yet another familiar voice swept her attention. Although this time a mop of golden hair swept back to reveal a modest amount of forehead greeted her before the person's face. Darjeeling had to adjust her gaze for a second to smile down on the calculating eyes of her second in command and acting communications specialist.
"Assam. Do you have something for me? Good news I hope?"
"I wish that was so." Was the honest response. "Unfortunately we got additional orders from Command. New intel supports that the weather anomaly reported earlier today by Flying Officer Litvyak is confirmed to be non-neuroi made. Yet at the same time it's not a storm or hurricane that we know of. Its something else entirely."
"I see… and why is this relevant to our orders?"
Assam shifted her shoulders uneasily as she gazed out in the ocean. "... that very same anomaly has started moving and its heading this way."
"What? Moving…?"
The smaller blonde rummaged through her satchel for a map and unfurled it so they both could see. It was slightly damaged by the rain, but the hastily scribbled markings and mathematical calculations remained readable.
"Yes, it's moving. They've named it Abyss for the simple fact that the very center of it is as dark as the depths of the ocean." Informed Assam as she pointed to a circle drawn in the center of the English Channel, between the shores of Swanage, Britannia and La Cité de la Mer of Gallia (City of the Sea.) "Abyss was discovered here roughly at 0500 hours. It remained stationary until a little over 2 hours ago when the scout witches assigned to monitor it reported unusual activity. Not soon after that they discovered that it had move from its spot from here..." The girl traced a zigzagging line drawn across the Channel that eventually straightened upon nearing their AO. A blackened dot penciled the Abyss's location just miles away from the shores. "..to here. This was fairly recent. The Abyss took nearly two hours to traverse this far. Command estimates that it'll likely be on top of our AO in less than 10 minutes after we arrive at the town."
That information was alarming and Darjeeling couldn't help but look out at the direction of the sea in hopes of spotting the incoming anomaly. All that greeted her eyes were the same dreary clouds that have yet to fully disperse in the greater distance. She frowned and resumed marching forward after realizing she had fallen slightly behind her troops.
"This is indeed troubling. What does Command want us to do? Forgo our secondary objective?"
"No. They want us to observe it and gather information."
Darjeeling blinked in disbelief. "Pardon? They want us to observe a possible storm during a Neuroi incursion? Is that what I'm hearing?"
Assam wince but held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Peace be with you Milady. The Abyss is entirely placid in nature apparently. Yes. I know it sounds ridiculous but the scout witches experienced it firsthand and gave a personal account of it. They claimed it was like flying through a pitch black tunnel while blindfolded. No winds, no rain, no lightning or thunder...just darkness.
"Even the 501st's infamous 'Samurai' Sakamoto had flown through it." Assam hastily added upon seeing Darjeeling's skeptical look. "If it'll ease you, know that we need not venture close to it to make observations. Just being within visible range would satisfy the requirements of High Command."
After a long silence, Darjeeling finally relented, shoulder sagging. "I'm sorry Assam. Today has been taxing for me. I assumed that blasted Tsuji had dropped something on us again and feared the worst when you mentioned our new objective. That man has been pushing for promotion recently and this sounded like one of his schemes."
"I understand milady. I forgive you."
"Thank you." Darjeeling smiled slightly. "I'll inform the rest of the unit of our new directive during our break. In the meantime have them all Armour up and double check their gear. I think they'll appreciate having to ride the rest of the way on steel threads than on their boots."
"It will be done." Snapping a crisp salute, Assam hurried to one of the trucks of their convoy.
The 501st Steel Witches reached the aforementioned resting spot not a few minutes later. Voices of relief were echoed all around as the small force found places to relax and snack on something warm. They were all happy about escaping their exhausting march… except for one.
A lone figure who had drifted further ahead had stopped dead in her tracks, her friend Miho doing the same just a little ways behind her. Curious, the Nishizumi heir drew to her side and tapped the short-haired brunette on the shoulder.
"Are you okay Yukari?"
No response.
Brow knitting in worry, Miho followed her gaze...and gasped.
"D… Darjeeling!" She cried out in alarm, a finger thrust at something ahead."
Heart racing, the blonde commander swiftly located Miho's findings and instantly faltered, face paling at what she saw.
From a great distance away, several black, star-shaped objects were hovering menacingly in the air. Their appearance alone should've caused immediate action, but the sound that they unleashed silenced her already shocked task-force, rooting them in place. The terrifying beams of crimson light that blasted the ground of their precious planet broke whatever joyful feelings they held.
"Oh no…"
The Neuroi was here and they were hungry for war.
"Incoming!"
BZZZZZZZT-BOOOOM
After discovering they could disassemble the VR machine, Jaune and his friends were quick to set up their new entertainment in the depths of his and Barratt's basement. Of course it took a good deal of teamwork to actually bring the three segments down the narrow stairs without having to trip and cause unwanted accidents, both personal injury and damaging of the goods. Never mind the difficulty of performing that task in full Space Marine costumes.
In hindsight, they should've taken at least the upper part of their costumes off before doing anything else. Sadly, they merely blamed their over enthusiasm to play with the new toy they've been gifted.
Even Jaune, Barratt and Christian, the usual trio of common sense, fell prey to their Gamer urges.
"We got no manual for this so just uh, have fun...?" Jaune suggested uncertainty while passing around the VR bracers to the others. "By the way… are you all seriously going to wear your outfits while playing this?"
The group of friends paused to stare at each other before deadpanning Jaune with a look that screamed "Duh! Of course we are!"
"It'll make things more fun." Barratt answered as he finished powering the Console and switching it on. "We're about to play a 40k VR game. What type of fans wouldn't want to dress up and play it at the same time?"
"You spoke my mind, my friend!"
The others were giving the Space Wolf fan a much appreciated thumbs-up for voicing their thoughts out loud. Jaune merely rolled his eyes and moved to organize the groups' discarded Space marine helmets on a nearby desk. Hansel saw this and moved to help.
"We'll bring down some food after this." The blond boy mentioned to him as they worked.
A whistle of appreciation came from Reymond who already had his headgear on and gazing around the room like it was his first time being there. "Yo, this is bomb. It's like I'm look at an FPS HUD. There's health meters, a map- everything. You guys gotta check this shit out!"
"Most of the indicators are Offline though." Vincent informed them. "I can only see my health bars and that's it. I can't make out the rest, but the main UI bar on the top screen is grayed out. This does look similar to the Space Hulk Deathwing game though..."
"Really high spec, yes?" It was Christian's turn to voice his observation while he strapped himself onto the large game console. "This may be part of the equipment so I think we need to use them in order to play properly." He paused when Barratt inserted the game onto the slit above the device. "Oh... there we go. It's working now. I can see a start menu next to you guys, heh. We playing multiplayer or co-op?"
"How many can play Co-op?" asked Barratt as he stepped onto his own section of the large VR device and pulled down the guardrails once he found a comfortable position.
"Six players."
"Sweet! Lets play the campaign then." Vincent and Reymond readily agreed and quickly jumped into their own spot to begin playing.
"Only a couple missions you two. I'm sure Jay wants to try the multiplayer."
"Let me get a drink first." Christian announced and attempted to push the guard rails off. The key word here being 'attempted' because no sooner had he moved to push the bars off him, several metal clamps appeared out of nowhere and fastened his body firmly into the large device. "The hell…?"
"Uh, what just happened? What are these?" Asked a nervous Reymond.
"I-I can't get them off." Exclaimed Vincent when he attempted to move the bar pinning his shoulders.
A sense of nervousness descended as the friends found themselves in a similar predicament. Barratt was already thrashing about on his spot the moment the new clamps appeared and he was not having any luck breaking free. In addition to his waist being bound by a thick clamp, his ankles were also restrained by similar cuffs.
"Jaune! Hansel! We're stuck! Help us out!"
Rapid footsteps descended down the stair. Jaune and Hansel, who had gone up to retrieve some snacks and drinks for the others, shared bewildered looks at their friends' distress. They scrambled to help free them and outright dumped their load on the ground.
"How in the world did you guys get stuck in this?" Asked Hansel as he tugged at Vincent's restraints.
"Did you guys touch something you shouldn't have?" Grunted the blond. Despite his and Barratt's combined strength, the metallic restraints just wouldn't budge.
"What the hell?"
"Go look for the manual or something." A frustrated Barratt suggested, panting slightly.
"It didn't come with one remember?"
"That's because there was never a manual to begin with." The friends jumped in surprise and snapped their attention at the unworldly voice that spoke. They found a dark figure shifting out of the shadows beneath the stairs. "Greetings."
There was a pregnant pause and then...
"Who the fuck are you?" Demanded Reymond who was facing the figure directly, momentarily forgetting about their problem.
The intruder staggered back as if it taking a blow to the head.
"You monkeighs are always so vulgar." The feminine voice now matched the physical figure that stepped into the light. She was garbed in dark black robes and a white alien helmet with a metallic sheen. "No ounce of manners. Everyone of your kind."
"An Eldar…?" muttered Hansel in slight fascination. "Nice costume..."
"Why thank you." She seemed to preen at the praise before abruptly shaking her head. "Wait a moment, this is no time for a conversation!"
"I totally agree." Jaune said as he began to walk towards the Eldar cosplayer. "I don't know who you are and how you got in here but you need to leave. Don't you know your committing a crime right now?"
"Yea! We could totally call the cops on you but Jay is being nice right now and letting you leave." Added Barratt who once more tried to free himself. "Damn machine! Fuck!"
"Momementai, my friend."
"Not the time for your references, Chris!"
An amused chuckle escaped from the intruder as she folded her arms across her chest.
A sign of defiance.
Jaune could already tell this was fast becoming one of those situations he never liked dealing with.
Hansel kept an eye on the developing scene as he searched for some sort of cutting implement from the various tool boxes around the room. He didn't want to break the VR equipment of his two friends but that seemed to be the only option that they had left.
"What if I refuse to leave? What will you do then?"
"Then it's obvious we'll call the cops and force you out. I'm well within my rights to do so." was Jaune's calm answer as he stepped closer. "Please don't make this any harder on yourself. I don't really like getting physical with anyone."
"Heh...You amuse me Monkeigh. Come force me then."
His frown deepened.
"Jaune just call the cops and throw her out." Whined Reymond. "I don't wanna get stuck here all day!"
Sighing in resignation, Jaune signaled Hansel to make the call while he closed the distance between him and the intruder, hands moving to usher her out physically.
"We warned you…"
The whole situation became a blur after that.
WHAM!
Jaws dropped in shock alongside Hansel's phone as Jaune was suddenly sent flying onto a table filled with a collection of paint buckets, scattering the products and its liquid contents everywhere and breaking the wooden table right down the middle.
"JAY! SHIT!"
"Cука!" Howled Christian. "Сукин сын!"
The Iron Hands fanboy was caught so flat footed that by the time he tore his gaze away from his groaning friend, a white blur came from the intruders direction, smacking him harshly across the face. Pain pursued him and overwhelmed his sensors so much that he crumpled to the ground unconscious, the side of his VR helm shattered.
"HANS!" Roared a furious Reymond.
The rest experienced a similar fate seconds later.
Adrenaline didn't even have time to kick in before their consciousness faded among a scene of blurred movements and unbearable pain racking their body. By the time Jaune had recovered enough to stand, his friends looked like lifeless husks embedded on the black machine, bodies slumped and heads tilted down in various angles.
Seeing them in such a state ignited a cold fury within Jaune and he let it loose with a roar as he launched himself at the culprit, wildly throwing punches and the occasional kick. They all missed by miles, the Eldar cosplayer seemingly dancing around them with unnatural grace, all the while taunting him with her giggles.
"Vulgar and barbaric! How aptly they describe your race. Pitiful! Truly pitiful..."
In the back of his mind Jaune was aware that something was wrong about this whole thing. The appearance of the VR game and now this chick… it was too suspicious, too unusual. But his emotions overrode his reasoning and all he wanted to do was to send the woman behind bars-preferably with a couple pairs of black eyes.
If only his fists would connect! DAMN IT!
"GAH!"
The blond once more found himself staggering to his feet, ears ringing and vision starting to swim. Despite having some combat experience via fight clubs, and keeping an above average fitness, Jaune couldn't hold even a decent ten seconds against her. That stave she had pulled from god knows where was giving her a major advantage, preventing his efforts from even reaching her.
She wouldn't even allow him to grab hold of it!
"Enough."
Faster than Jaune could react, an arc of pure lightning shot forth from her palms and struck him on the chest. His mind only had a split second to register the supernatural act before finally succumbing to the immense pain that washed over him.
"AAAHHHH!"
Jaune screamed until his voice became hoarse. Until the pain ebbed away his consciousness and allowed darkness to finally claim him.
"Nighty night... Monkeigh."
"Was that necessary...?"
The exalted Farseer did not reply to the question. Instead she knelt down near the fallen blond and reached out to pet the mop of golden hair.
"Okay... I'll give you your moment."
A warlock garbed in dark green robes stepped out from behind the shadows of a corner devoid of any light. He held a tomb in one hand while the other rested lazily on the pommel of his Witchblade. And like all Warlocks of his station, he carried himself with a distant wisdom of countless millennia and a unfaltering purpose to his steps… if he wasn't tapping his foot like an impatient child that is...
To the other Eldar of her Warhost, he was the stoic adviser they could go to for guidance.
To her, he was like a doting brother that likes to nag and question whatever she did.
"Alright, times up. Should I send them in now, sister?"
Which was unfortunately the truth of the reality she lived in.
"Brother..." She drawled as she stood up and dusted her robes. "Why do you bother asking when you already know what must be done?"
"Because I like to follow protocol." He answered readily. "There's nothing wrong with seeking approval from our vaunted Farseer. I'm merely doing my job."
The aforementioned Farseer gave him a deadpanned look from behind her helmet. Their interaction was beginning to head in that direction again and she was not going to have any of it.
"You know what? I'll do this myself." She decided and snapped her fingers.
All around the cluttered basement, distortions in reality swirled into existence as the Immaterium made itself known. The air quickly filled with ozone and sparks as lithe, armored beings materialized into the room, their colorful armor shedding sparks as they touched down. They numbered in the dozens and bore deadly blades of war and elegant looking pistols and rifles.
One of them, garbed in a blue armor and white helmet, stepped forward and bowed reverently before her.
"Farseer. We have answered your call."
"Yes, yes. I can see that. Now get these Monkeighs ready." She ordered dismissively. "Do so quickly. We've already wasted enough time here and I'll be displeased if we're not on schedule."
"Y-yes of course. As you command Farseer."
The poor Dire Avenger and the other Eldars present hurried to do her bidding.
"Must you stress out our troops?" Ask the Warlock as he crossed his arms and stared pointedly. "You're working them to the bone as it is."
She rolled her eyes. "A little incentive never harmed anyone, brother. Besides, 'I'm merely doing my job.'"
Tuning out his retort, the unnamed Farseer watched the proceedings silently. She left the rest of the responsibility of directing her warriors to him like so many times before. That was how she ran things in her Host and she was content with that. No need to care for what others think.
After all, her time was coming and she was merely here to fulfill one final mission.
"And HIS plans better be worth it…."
Pain.
That was the feeling that Christian Smirnov, age 19, awoke to. His head throbbed of something fierce and yet it didn't compare to what his entire body felt like in that moment.
Heavy, weak and utterly raw. What the hell happened to him?
"Blyat!"
Inwardly swearing in his native language through clenched teeth, Christian (or Chris as his friends would often call him) tried to blink back the tears and massage his head free of the headache he felt, hoping to at least ease a part of his torment. Unfortunately a barrier of sorts prevented him from doing so.
Confused, he blinked at his right hand and noticed the white gauntlet of his Narthecium that encased it. That was nothing new at all and he tested his digits by giving them a wiggle.
His brows furrowed.
The fact it sounded and looked far too metallic and detailed to be his costume was something new though. So was the feeling of his head encased in a helmet. And the fact that he sounded like he was breathing through a respirator mask so close to his mouth that he could feel a bit of warmth whenever he exhaled.
The biggest difference that his mind had somehow skipped entirely and only now absorbing in detail, was the fact a full screen encompassed his vision. A familiar blue tinted background with UI features of an FPS game, complete with a chatlog, mini-map and a host of others too long to describe in one sentence.
He was basically gazing through a Tactical HUD without the actual black borders of the helmet hindering his view of the outside.
"What is this?"
A childish part of his mind leaped to explore interesting discovery but the more rational and concerned side slapped that urge away before it could get very far.
Memories returned to him almost immediately. The most recent memory being what last transpired before darkness claimed him.
"That bitch!"
Swiveling his head in search of that very woman, Chris found that he was still restrained. He tried removing the guardrail-harness, his mind corrected- and was surprised to feel it slowly bend, the metal actually screeching in protest albeit dampened considerably by the helmet. Was it just him or did he just get stronger? He certainly couldn't budge it last time.
Before he could pursue that line of thought, the screen began to up. A message appeared on the bottom left box of what he assumed was the Chat Log. It was yellow in color and large enough to see clearly without impeding the overall view of the screen.
[[
Chapter: Ultramarines
Rank: Brother Sergeant
Designation Name: Christian Smirnov
Status: Active.
Vitals: Processing….Stable.
]]
"I don't feel sta-" He cut himself off when he realized his body felt miraculously better. Like the pain had become a tiny prickle in his mind. "Okaaay. I guess I am..."
Like a sleeping computer, the dim entire screen lit up and truly made him gape. Multiple targeting reticles winked to existence alongside smaller boxes of descriptions that seemed to provide information on whatever object he had momentarily focused his attention on. Other miscellaneous windows and graphs appeared on all sides of the screen, the likes of which he was dutifully ignoring for now.
The most eye catching was the five portraits of various Space Marines helmet on the side of his screen, right below his own enhanced portrait and health bars.
Each contained a name of his five friends.
Curving around each portrait were 3 additional layers of rings divided by numerous lines within them. Visually, it looked like lines of bullets centered around the Space Marine portraits like the petals of a daisy. In addition to this was a tinted, black box containing a narrow name tag on the top and a much larger space for monitoring the heart. This connected seamlessly to the portraits.
"They're alive. Good." Christian breathed a sigh of relief. "... but where did that сука go?"
Now that he took a good look around… where in the Emperor's name were they? They were apparently still strapped together considering the mini-map was telling him this much but the metall walls and overall shape of the room was both familiar yet unfamiliar to him.
"Ngh…Wha…" a groan sounded to his right and coincidentally Barratt's portrait began blinking, with a heart rate also rising quickly. "Whats… w-whats going on? Argh!...PAIN!"
"Breathe slowly, Brother." Christian grimaced. He meant to say 'comrade,' not 'brother.' The hell?. "I mean Brother. Wait… Why can't I say Brother? Huh?"
"Be silent for a moment." Growled Barratt. "All Father, why does everything HURT!"
"The feeling will fade. Just bare with it." He encouraged despite being distracted. "Open your eyes if you haven't already."
"Wah? What are you… Oh…"
"Yea. Welcome, brother… "
"OH EMPEROR- THE PAIN!" Reymond, who was to Barratt's right cried out and thrashed in place. "WHY?!"
The older boys winced at first but became curious when the sound immediately lessened like a volume was tuned to find a comfortable level. He wondered if it had to do with the helmet he wore.
Another rude awakening soon saw Hansel and Vincent groaning in equal distress, their portraits in Chris's screen also becoming lively. Although they kept their reactions leashed and weren't quite as vocal as Reymond continued to be, for which Christian was grateful for. They were quicker to open their eyes too.
"What happened?" Asked a groggy Vincent who had taken to examining his mismatching hands. Mismatching? "Since when did I color my arms silver and black? What in the Golden Throne's is this?"
"Silver?" Christian looked down at his own hands again and blinked at surprise. "Ah… this is strange."
"I'm not seeing things am I? We're in a VR right now, right?" Hansel asked no one in particular. "I don't remember starting the game…"
"You didn't. You and Jaune were trying to get that bitch when she showed up." Barratt pointed out as he glanced about while rubbing the side of his helmet as if it was an extension of his actual head.
"And our voices. How…?"
"Got nothing for you, sorry. Kinda suffering a bit of headache here… ugh…."
"Brothers! Where's Brother Captain Jaune?" Reymond suddenly asked after finally calming down and looking around. Whatever happened to them seemed to have affected him more than they did. "I don't see him. He's here right?...where ever here is..."
"Brother Captain is next to me, Brother Hans… uh…" Christian could practically picture Vincent blanching and trying to wrap his head around the same mystery he had stumbled on. "Why am I getting the urge to give you all 'Brother' titles?"
"I… have no idea." Reymond grimaced. "It just felt natural for some reason."
The ultramarine fan couldn't help but belch a laugh despite their confusing situation. It relieved some of the budding anxiety he was feeling at the moment.
"Hahahaha. I'm not sure myself Brothers. I'm not sure myself."
Barratt palmed his helmet's face and muttered. "Brothers, give me a break."
"Nevermind that. Is Brother Captain Jaune alright? I can't seem him from here."
"Br… Bro… argh, JAUNE. Damn this feeling. Whatever it is." Ranted Hansel. "Wake up!"
While the others tried to rouse the blond, Christian took to probing the interface of his helm's cogitators a bit more closely than the others. He was so invested on it that he did not notice one of his friends mumbling about a "Bolter" curiously and the sound of gun being cocked before...
DAKKA!
"The Frak!"
PING-THOING
"Oh Shit!"
TUNG-BOOM.
….A bolter round exploded just inches away from the Ultramarines' head, almost scaring the living shit out of him. It rattled his head briefly and left him slightly disoriented though. If he wasn't so engrossed in trying to figure out what exactly happened he would have noticed the slight dip in one of his health meters. The blue colored one of the outer layer.
"What the fuck!" Barrett swore loudly, his voice sounding normal since they've woken. "I felt that! Which of you lot did that?!"
"I'm sorry Brothers! I-I didn't know this Bolt Pistol was real!" A red colored Bolter clattered to the ground just at the edge of Chris's peripheral vision. The quick textbook above it indicated to be Vincent's weapon. "I thought this was a game!"
"It isn't. Take off your helmet and see for yourself. All of you." Ordered the annoyed Space Wolf. "And someone get Jaune up. We need him right now."
"Wait... did he say Bolt Pistol?"
"Rey…"
"Helmet? Gotcha."
One by one the group removed their helmets and the smell of rusted metal and various odors assaulted their sensitive noses.
"Holy!"
"Alright! Real situation! Got it!" Vincent said and just quickly resealed his helmet. "Much better."
Reymond and Hansel hastily followed.
"Kinda reminds me of grandma's workshop." Chris commented idly while taking another deep breath of the atmosphere. "Smells like home. Ha!"
Soon everyone fell into contemplation as the reality of their situation began to sink in. Seeing was believing as the saying goes and they had enough evidence on hand to discredit any sort of delusion that any of them might have.
Sure some of them still held a measure of doubt, but they kept their thoughts to themselves. And like how sudden things have gone for them, their musings were short lived as their last friend and de facto leader, by unanimous agreement, awoke from his slumber.
Unlike their awakening, Jaune's was filled with gasps and grunts as well as the occasional coughing that did cause some looks of worries to be cast his way. Christian was quick to assess the blond's vitals, having grasped the functions of his helmet first, and reassured them he'll be fine.
"Good to have you with us, Jay."
"Barratt?... you okay? The others..."
"We're all accounted for Brother Captain." Said Vincent.
"Breathe and take another minute to adjust. We've got a lot to say."
"What?"
"You have got to be kidding me..."
The facts were quickly established for the awakened blond. They were not in his and Barratts home anymore but in some sort of room with no visible lighting apart from the screen of their helmets. Their encounter with the mysterious Eldar intruder have been real and painful. The costume, their hand-crafted armor, had been replaced by real metal that they've no knowledge of removing. At least in this given time. And lastly they were now armed with life-like weapons of one of the 40k universe's most bad-ass, most deadliest and most elite soldiers in sci-fi history.
He and everyone else agreed to keep their helmets on for that very reason.
"So you all are basically telling me we're like in some sort of crazy author's bad fanfiction story with elements of a possible "isekai" genre and "the gamer" plot thrown into the mix for very important but highly meaningful reasons? And you guys didn't consider this being some sort of elaborate prank by a wannabe psychopath with a grudge on one of us? Maybe a yandere girlfriend or even just a stalker?"
The friends nodded vigorously despite not being physically seen as Jaune continued.
"I'd say you've all gone mental, but then I remember that Eldar shot me with lightning, actual LIGHTNING, and just about blown all reasons away. SO... I'll just take it as it is to avoid any migraines. My heads not up for that right now." Jaune slumped and clasped his face between his hands glumly. "I need a beer…"
"Seriously, Jay?"
"He took that better than we did." Whispered Reymond to Vincent.
"That's Brother Captain for you."
"Nah. I think Jaune's still sorting things out." Chris opined. "Just give him time."
"Yea, let me think for a moment. And nobody better be touching their weapons until we figured out how to get out of here." the blond said.
"That means you, Reymond- Hansel." Barratt singled out pointedly. "Put those Chainsword and Heavy Axe down before you hurt yourselves, children."
"Frak you Brother… "
"Fine." Grumbled Hansel. "But how come Vincent's not included? He's the one that nearly shot you earlier."
"Hey, I said I was sorry! Get off my back already."
"Okay. Vincent you're banned from your weapons. There."
"Barratt!" squawked the Blood Angel.
THUMP
The group fell silent at the sound. The room began to shift to the side and they instinctively clasped onto their harnesses, muscles tensing slightly as their awareness heightened. Something was happening. .
THUMP
"What is it now?" Jaune groaned.
THUMP
"You know, I just realized something." Chris began uneasily. "Doesn't this room look like the interior of a Spacemarine drop-pod? I mean, the way it angles upward and the fact we're standing in a formation like this, well…"
He trailed off as as they all came to a terrifying conclusion.
THUMP
All six friends swallowed nervously, their hearts beginning to beat faster.
"Y-you don't think were going to d-drop right…?" stammered Vincent. "Right? G-guys?"
THUMP. THUD.
They came to a stop and the room was lit up by blinking red lights. Hearts thundered like crazy now.
[Prepare for drop, Astartes.]
Eyes widened like saucers as their hearts skipped several beats completely at the warning.
"OH FRACK NUUUOOOOOH -!" They screamed in unison as the feeling of weightlessness hit them…
Before promptly plummeting downwards to the unknown.
When asked about the experience much later, Jaune and Vincent vehemently denied screaming like little girls.
Because Space Marines do NOT scream!
They ROAR.
Period.
The battle raged fiercely.
The black clouds overhead were dotted by blinding explosions and crisscrossing lines of crimson light. Drizzles of cold rain and harsh winds added to the chaotic mess of gunfire that laid waste to countless foes of the sky. The Strike Witches of the 501st, 502nd, and 503rd Fighter Wings proudly dominated the black invaders despite their numerical disadvantage, their skills and valor complimenting their cunning tactics and unmatched teamwork gave them an edge. In the sky above a part Gallia, they reigned supreme. On the ground below…their counterparts were less so.
Ruined buildings and scarred streets littered every front of Gallia's many towns. It became a staple sight for the besieged defenders of the Allied's ground forces, Land Witches and normal infantry alike, whose efforts of stemming the tide of the sinister, machinations of war met little success. For every yards of ground defended, countless miles of land were lost. It mirrored the casualties the enemy relentlessly inflicted upon them, all of which weakened and demoralized them. The Neuroi, their hated foe, were ruthless in execution and were merciless in victory.
That was the state of things in the Gallian front of October 30, 1942. The world was at war with a tireless enemy and not an ending in sight. Mankind's future looked uncertain and bleak, spiraling to an inevitable doom.
But not all was lost.
In the depths of the grim darkness there will always be light for none can exist without the other. And no great evil can stand against His unfaltering light.
He who sat upon the Golden Throne had heard the anguish and torment of humanity and His wrath was evoked. The die of faith has finally been cast and Mankind's future, forged from the fires of His glory and molded on the anvil of His righteousness, was ready to make war. Change was fast approaching and was descending rapidly upon the earth with all the raw fury of His coming retribution.
None was prepared for the bright light that the enigmatic 'Abyss' had suddenly cast upon the battlefield of Gallia.
None was prepared for the single, flaming object that spewed forth from it's very center like a roaring lion, catching the eyes of countless participants of war.
And none would witness Mankind's last hope make a destructive landfall outside the town of Condette. For they would all eventually come to know that He who sits on the Golden Throne has sent the salvation of His people and the destruction of all evil.
They are the Blade of His will!
"FRAK THIS SHIT!"
His Angel's of death!
"BLEEEERGH!"
His Guardian's of peace!
"WHY ON ME, BROTHER?! WHY!?"
And His Harbingers of Retribution!
"THRONE YES! LET'S DO THAT AGAIN WOHOO!"
They are Space Marines!
"I LIIIIIIVEEE AHAHAAHAHAH!"
And they shall know No Fear!
"BROTHERS! I just wet myself…maybe"
NO FEAR!
Hello and welcome to the bottom.
First off, hope you all are having a good day.
This fic was inspired by the fanfic "Strike Marines" that was written by Dreadnought Spartan889. The concept and approach he did for his fanfic was surprisingly enjoyable for me and I urge readers to give it a look. He has currently 5 chapters out and hadn't updated in the last 2 years, BUT hopefully this will help motivate him to continue his work.
Now the main reason why I decided to post my own story with OCs was because of three things. The first was because I'm a fan of both the Strike Witches series and the 40k Franchise and fell in love with a crossover of these two together. The second was that I've been meaning to make a Strike Witches fanfic with OCs for a while now and only recently got the motivation to write a 10k word prologue that would start all of this. And lastly, its because I wanted to share this with others.
I'm pretty sure I have other reasons that I can't think of at this time- largely because I'm sleep deprived and I have worked tonight ahahaha- but will probably share later when I've cleared my head with sleep. All you guys gotta know was that I'm planning to update this more so than my other fic just cause I've lost motivation for SC2. And the fact that I have more materials on Strike Witches (SW) and 40k to work with than I do with SC2 and Zero combined.
This prologue was going to end up at last 20k+ if I didn't stop it here. So sorry for those who are disappointed I didn't continue. Hopefully, I can get the next chapter up by Christmas a present for you all.
Any who, I know you all have questions and are likely curious on where this will go so leave a review and simply enjoy reading. Also, if your a 40k fan then feel free to dump some info on me. I did what research I could but as a filthy Casual, I believe that might not be enough and I still lack knowledge on a lot of things. The same for any Strike Witches fan out there reading this. Also, please forgive any grammar or spelling error. I'll go back and correct them later.
WELP! Time to catch those Zs... night!
Happy(early) Thanksgiving and God bless you guys!
PEACE!