The immaterial tempest flickered in and out of existence, its vibrant colors dulled, its eddies of infinite energies waned, the stars beyond its gaping form shone through for a few moments. The warp storm that caged his people to the rest of the galaxy was finally subsiding, and with it the rediscovery of their victory over all adversity or their vigil for the countless heroes.
The training was done inside the cyber simulation, the name used for the training machine was either the Jar or the Bowl, it simulates the dangers and perils found inside the warp making it a safe way of training Psykers outside the Empyrean. Aside from the Jar, they also had drone training, in which they command armies of drones using their Sorcery to mediate and organize the information from all the sensory equipment inside each drone and issue commands without delay and without probability of interception.
The training inside the Jar has been increasingly removed and more time was being inputted to the drone training, Sterold did not enjoy the drone training as it greatly strained his mind, between managing the army of drones and actively avoiding the perils of the Warp, it was grueling in every regard as managing somewhere between 300k to 1m drones whilst keeping his significant presence in the Warp veiled from its denizens to the psychic coordination between fellow Psykers they had to maintain.
Sterold is currently on a planet inside the Warp storm, he has been there for approximately 3 months in realtime, and most if not all the planet was already under occupation with only the warp portal on the poles giving resistance. Those months have been the most mind racing and straining part of his life, the small scale drone combat was gone and has been replaced by armies of drones to drive back their enemies.
The planet was a dull red and had far stretching plains across its surface, it was devoid of atmosphere and oceans, only a ominous haze of dust that toned the sky a blood red and surface upon closer inspection was opposite to the view from space, the planes without end was disrupted and disregarded. The landscape was already visibly scarred from the constant warfare, craters the size of cities and scars that ran kilometers in length weaved across,and whilst eldritch energies blew like a baleful gale across its surface, its poles light up like miniature suns as battle was waged between material and immaterial forces across the veil between reality and unreality, the roars of rage, moans of pleasure, cackle of delight, and groans of the dying echoed on the winds of the immaterium and ominous sky.
The Daemons stubbornly refused to yield the small planet to humanity, as sea of lesser and greater daemons poured out from the warp portals and unleashed all their might towards the drones. They fought with cunning brutality and tried with all their might to combat the encroaching drones, employing tactics and strategies which either resulted in minor defeat or pyrrhic victories, with every kilometer of ground gained the muck of daemons thickened in number.
The drones held a steady pace of progress against the sea of enemies, their weapons turning once great daemons into giant explosions of subatomic particles and radiation as they were fissionized upon impact, the radiation wash would have undoubtedly killed any and all organisms that might have survived the warp storm, or the plagues that were spewing out of the portal, even Sorcery found little purchase to survive to onslaught as the sub-light projectiles ripped through warp defences, it was a fight between an unstoppable force against limitless force and it was glorious to beheld. The drones moved with purpose and fired with unwavering accuracy at their targets, they ducked and weaved against daemon blades and avoided the mystical powers of more sorcery inclined enemies, millennia of programming against hordes of daemons founded great purchase upon the daemons.
Sterold's near omnipresent view of the battlefield greatly helped in creating strategic and tactical maneuvering for his drone forces, every step of the battle the real time information was processed in warp and decisions were made almost instantaneous in real time, but in the warp the choice was decided upon with great mind.
A few ten thousand of daemons were attempting to push out of the encirclement, against only a few thousand drones defending a 100 sq km valley. Sterold noticed their push instantaneously from ground and orbital drones sending information, with staggering odds assailed upon the drones, they fought a steady retreat banishing scores of hapless daemons who were continuing their assault. The drones were surrounded upon a massive crater the size of a city and were being picked apart from blade and magic, as more daemons flooded into the crater the rate of destroyed drones rose proportionally, and upon the last stroke of axe into the last drones the daemons bellowed their victory, that was short lived.
Sterold has redeployed heavier drones to rid them of the daemon problem and only at the cost of sacrificing a few thousand standard drones, the victory was already decided even before the first drone fired his first shot into the attackers as the staggering amount of information fed to Sterold ensured not a single move was to surprise him, even against illogical enemies. In a few short seconds the thousands of daemons inside the crater was banished to the warp once more and all that was left was molten rock that glowed like a star.
The final push was begun as the scores of demons could not withstand the encroaching drones, their larger cousins banished and would not be back for a long while, as such did most of their fighting strength, and with the war decided the daemons made a hasty charge into banishment or retreat back into the Empyrean. The few daemons that refused to retreat back onto the immaterial were ended quickly, blood letters and other minions of Khorne stubbornly fought on until the last of their strength faded. The combat was short lived and only the portals were left to be closed, those swirling holes in reality becoming no more than a window to the Empyrean.
Sterold teleported to the nearest drone, and began to close the warp portals, there was little resistance from the denizens on the other side and closing the portals would prove warp portals fizzled out and disappeared from both poles and the planet was finally under foot. Sterold himself breathed a sigh of relief as the sea of daemons was decidedly gone from the material plane.
The battle was over and Sterold took stock of his army, 300k drones destroyed over the entirety of the campaign, of the destroyed 245k was of standard units and the rest remained of heavy and special units. This was the most brutal campaign he fought since he began his training, he has already lost more drones in this one campaign than his entire training course collectively, the fighting has been brutal and relentless, especially against those Greater Daemons that proved more attuned to warfare than their lesser cousins, he especially hated Great Unclean ones since they would not be fissionized in a few hits like his brothers.
He removed his helmet and his connection to the drones along with it, the thousands of senses he sensed from the drones was gone and only sensing the things that were local to his own body. The drones remained motionless like statues of might, they were bleached white from the radiation wash and a few were badly dinged and dented, limbs missing and the odd half destroyed ones crawling on the floor. It was a veritable army at his personal disposal that proved time and time again successful against his enemies, in a year or so he would be completely in command of them.
It was the final leg of his combat training and only one more year remained before his graduation into a Strategic Level Psyker for their Empire. His level of Psyker was very rare throughout their Empire and only 9 others shared this level of power, given that the others were already in active service, he would not expect there to be more than a few thousand of their kind. The other more powerful than him were rarer still, and only the King and his dynasties first sons were confirmed System level Psykers and they were only 5 in number.
Sterold felt favored by Aspect Tzeentch since he was lucky enough to be born a Psyker, and was afforded a life of privilege with his foster family of Psykers. He often thanked his foster parents for containing his great power when he was little, otherwise he would have been consumed by the warp and its denizens, from there onwards he never once looked back to seek his biological parents.
Pushing aside his thoughts Sterold sent the psychic message to his instructor Sylla and informed her that he was awaiting the final leg of his training, and that another planet has been added to the growing Empire and is ready for exploitation. The truly practical way their Empire survived almost 15 millennia inside this stupid pocket of space was from battling control of space from the daemons that claimed them as theirs.
It was Sterold's last year of training, and himself and classmates were currently on a small starship idling on the edge of the warp storm. It was a small ship according to what he himself divined with his powers, it was cylindrical and did not reflect any light, it was barely a kilometer in length and had no weapons on it, only void shield and armor enough to survive a supernova at reasonable distance, a survival ship if he was to guess.
Their final leg was where countless others fail and never return, the current expected survival rate was 70% and has significantly improved since the first attempt 15 millennia ago, still fear remained inside the heart of each Psyker as they were expected to survive inside the Empyrean for an entire year. The daemons they fought in reality with steel and science where they held the advantage was easy, but to survive inside the Empyrean with their ever hateful rage and unequalled perception it was unlikely to falter against lesser men. The Psykers of their level and with the amount of training and practice they had it was not an impossible task, and very achievable if one kept his will and mind from being engrossed in the Immaterial nature of the Warp.
The room lit up and a doorway of Dark Glass was in the center of the rooom, it exuded a macabre aura as the veil between reality and unreality was replaced with a door of simple design and most basic of woods, beyond it the warp itself and it would only open from one side. Sterold steeled himself as he opened the door and walked into the Infinite Realms of the Warp.
The depths of the warp was as endless and senseless as it has been, the myriad of creatures that inhabits its infinite realm was going about their predetermined business. It was calming and surreal with the sky of endless colors and forms, with ground of indiscernible texture and landscape forever a question on its makeup. The time without pace and events without cause or effect was chaotic, but comforting in its consistency of inconsistency.
This was the relief Sterold finds amongst his harsh and unforgiving training regime. The feeling of years inside the Jar mastering his Sorcery, and the exhausted mind he found hours later when he awoke in realspace. It was in the Warp where he found his peace, likewise where his fellows found their lusts founded. He expected more of a problematic stay as since his first entry an eternity ago, but gradually he found that hiding himself from the seeking gaze of the Warp was easier as one got used to it and eventually became as easy as breathing. The only hard part was attempting to refuse the lures that the realm gave, from eternities of pleasure or power with equal, these were the hollow promises of a realm built by hollow sentients. Keeping ones sanity was also hard.
The peace was interrupted when a powerful Psyker entered the Empyrean, Sterold could feel her power creating waves across the Immaterium,
Sterold focused his Warpsight and made sense of the being behind the power, to his surprise he found that the power was that of Sylla their warp instructor and was currently beset upon by hordes of daemons. He immediately went to aid his instructor against the mass of daemons, upon arriving finds 4 of his classmates fighting alongside Sylla. Sterold unleashed his Psychic might on the daemons and finally drew their ire.
"That is 5 of the initiates, 2 weeks worth of work finding you all and it seems we have already overstayed our welcome" Sylla said.
"The others should also be drawn to our familiar signatures" Sterold said.
"I give the others 2 hours or we leave without them, its getting unsafe and the daemons would only pour on in ever greater numbers" Sylla stated.
So the 6 of them fought the denizens of the warp with eldritch fire and lightning, conjuring warp weapons for their own use against sorcery resistant daemons and particularly hard to disable ones. Sterold himself favored the use of spear, and he conjured himself a halberd and used it to impale lesser daemons.
As the battle progressed two more of his classmates arrived into the fight and likewise fought alongside them against the scores of daemons. Amongst the ranks of daemons stood out a familiar face with a partially familiar aura, the slight difference is that it exuded a dark lust for violence and sex directed towards Sylla.
"I have come to claim my prize as Slaneesh promised" his classmate declared.
"These mortals are sorcerers and as such belong to the Changer of Ways" a Horror of Tzeentch declared.
At which Sterold's classmate responded with lightning towards the Horror whole promptly disappeared afterwards.
"Time to leave, they are beyond our help and have already succumbed to the temptations of the warp" Sylla declared and opened a portal back to real space. They all hurriedly retreated back through the portal, with Sylla being the last one through it.
They found themselves on a small planetoid inside the ominous warp storm, it was barren and desolate. The curiosities about it was it held an atmosphere conducive to human life, and also the 3 ranks of drones aiming their weapons towards their relative direction, which was less conducive to human life, also the roars of angry daemons on their heels was surely against their immediate lives.
"Close the portal" Sylla commanded at which everyone followed.
The portal fizzled out of existence in a swirl of purple mist. The drones likewise lowered their weapons and the daemons were safely behind the veil of reality. Sterold was glad to return to real space and have a little semblance of consistency in what he perceived even if it was the barrels of weapons capable of fissionizing whole heads of greater daemons.
As the sense of relief washed over him, he also felt the reason of his stay in the Immaterium all came flooding back to his mind. He has done it, he has survived the final test into becoming an official Strategic Level Psyker, that decade of his life spent with brutal training and endless migraines coupled with Psychic reprimands from Sylla was finally over. The graduation rites were the only remaining process to cross and he could feel the joy in the warp. The feelings of countless other Psykers.
The feeling of gladness from no less than a thousand Psykers was permeating the battered veil of reality and filled the sky with auroras of infinite color. The once barren surface was now a sea of colorful blades of grass and other plant life, with spectres of little animals dancing on the plains of color, a few were puking rainbows. They finally made it into the secret planetoid of their dreams.
The planetoid was where countless other Psykers got their certification, from lowly Industrial Level Psykers to the impossibly strong System Level Psyker. This was the final step in their journey into growing of their power and from them on the world was their oyster.
The ceremony was headed by the heir to the Imperial crown, Adam MVI, one of the few System Level Psykers. The graduating Psykers took oaths to fight for the crown with unwavering loyalty and promised upon the Aspects of the Warp their souls if they ever do otherwise, afterwards they were given their official Psychic IFF and their postings.
Sterold was given official command of the 246th Strategic Drone Army and was stationed to the south western expanse of their limited space, he was joined by several others who commanded smaller amounts of drones. His new army consisted of 1 million drones of various units proportions to expand and defend the Empires holding in their command.
The party was short lived as an unexpected event occurred, the entire planet ceased to be molded by the joys of the Psykers and the veil between realms resolidified. The sudden waning of the warp storm, cleared the path for their Warpsight to peer through its haze for the first time in 15 thousand years. The sight beyond the storm was short lived as the storm quickly returned and disrupted the flow of reality, but the sight that everyone saw was burned to their minds and the sky above mirrored it, a massive warp rift that tore the galaxy in half, a dozen warp storms that dwarfed others in size and scale, whilst a faint glow of golden light shone against the background of chaotic energy. The energy they felt was familiar in presence, it felt very similar to the warp signature of the Royal Family, in reference Adam MVI glowed with the same hue only with less intensity and brightness.