Screams...
Usually, the Gene Seed Implantation chamber would be filled with screams accompanied by the never-ending liturgy of Battle Brothers as they accept a neophyte in the ranks of the Adeptus Astartes.
For the Legion however, no liturgy accompanied the screams. Only cold, desolate silence.
A few legionnaires surrounded the vast table embroidered with the sigils of the Imperium. The mutated body atop of the contraption flailed and screamed in pain as the mad servitors continued on their bloody work.
"...Implant...implant the carapace...hehehehe..."
"RAAAAAAGH!"
The servitor finished implanting the wide, black organ underneath the Neophyte's torso, causing it to latch into pre-punctured points within his flesh that allows the organ to invade his body more properly.
The servitor produced one of his unstable laughs as he inspected his handiwork, "Prototype...success...hehehe...Legion's...First Neophyte..."
Another group of servitors dragged the finished body off the table to be sent into the Fortress' recovery room.
The Astartes within the room disappeared into embers. The first Neophyte's fate secured.
"Malfoy? Malfoy Maxwell! Wake up!"
With sharp gaps, Malfoy shot up on the bed. His bones cracked one-by-one from the lack of use.
"Where am I? What happened?"
A knock came from the bedroom door, "Hon? Are you alright?"
Somebody entered the room, and Malfoy's breath almost stopped.
"Almond?" He said.
Almond looked at him like he had grown a second, no, third head, "What's the matter sweetie?"
Malfoy clutched his head, "I-I Thought I died. At Abberlyne hill. I remember the wind cutting me open like a fish."
"What are you saying?" Almond asker, perturbed, "You won! Abberlyne did not fall. Don't you remember?"
"B-but-"
"We'll talk this over at breakfast alright?" Almond interjected, defusing the awkward situation, "Then after breakfast, we could head at the hill so that you could see for yourself, alright?"
"Okay..."
Almond gave Malfoy a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the room.
"So, are you okay?"
"I'm not sure..."
"Relax! It'll go away in no time! I promise!"
Malfoy reluctantly dug his fork on a piece of bacon and dragged it to his mouth. A freshly brewed cup of coffee was on the table beside him.
Almond was on the other side eating her own breakfast.
"So, as I was saying: Why don't we head out to the hills after breakfast? Come on! It'll be fun. Plus, it will help clear up your mind a little bit, don't you think?"
"I'm not sure..." Malfoy mumbled.
Almond crossed her arms, "Pfft! Pansy!"
Malfoy fumed at her name calling, "I'm not!"
"Do too!"
Malfoy gave a pout as Almond chuckled at his expression.
The village of Ammouragh in Albion was the country's primary source of gunpowder.
Not that it needed it, or that it's saying much; Magic is the primary munition in the entirety of the continent.
What made this village peculiar was a small chanting within the square,
"Imperator In utroque fidelis. Imperator deferer..."
A woman was sprawled on the plaza's square. Her eyes glowing a light blue as she chanted liturgy after liturgy out loud.
On the sidelines, peasants looked at her and mumbled amongst themselves, "The fuck is she on about?"
"Beats me," another answered back, "I think she had a screw loose."
As they looked back, they were surprised, as the woman was clutching their trousers, "Faith to the Emperor! The Emperor Protects!"
"Woman," the peasant answered, "I seriously have no idea what you're talking about."
"They are here," the woman shouted to the crowd, "Dammant quod non intelligunt!"
She turned to the peasants she was talking with, "Fillius Terrae, Fidei defensor! Defend us! For the Emperor!"
"Wha-"
"The Reconquiesta are coming! The Reconquiesta are coming!"
And the entire town was plunged into chaos.
"Maxwell? What's wrong?"
Malfoy didn't answer back. Instead, he instinctively grabbed for his musket rifle.
...which wasn't there...
"Shit!" He exclaimed out loud as a huge dragon crashed into their home. Before it managed to hurt Almond however, Malfoy jumped out of the table and grabbed her the moment the dragon appeared.
"I suggest you let her go, or I'll make you." A wand touched his shoulder, as mages raided his house. The possessor was an old, fat man with moles on his wrinkles.
"Tie him up with the beams!" He ordered, which the others complied without any questions. He then took notice of Almond in the counter, hiding beneath it.
With a slight squeak, Almond was forcefully raced and dragged towards the head mage.
"And what have we here?" He mocked-teased, as he ordered the mages to take her, "What a fine specimen!"
He licked at Almond's cheeks, who grimaced with disgust.
Malfoy seethed with rage, "Don't you dare touch her!"
"Oooh, touchy are we?" The mage mocked, "You know what I enjoy most? Tragedies ending with two lovers meeting a gruesome death. So I thought: Why not make this a reality?" He said as he ordered the soldiers to drag Almond closer to him, "Now; here's what am I gonna do: I'm gonna put this," he said as he procured a large knife from the mages beside him, "inside of her, then go from here," he pointed at Almond's nether regions, "to up here." As he traced his fingers up towards Almond's face. "With you watching."
Then without warning, he plunged his knife within Almond, who, by the shock, didn't register the pain.
Then he let it sink in the flesh within her, as she realized what just happened.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!"
He proceeded to carve roughly upwards causing Almond to shake and scream in pain.
"I-I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"
The last Malfoy heard was her choking sound as the knife managed the trail up her abdomen and throat smoothly before everything stopped and was plunged into darkness.
"Call upon the Warp my child..."
Malfoy opened his eyes, and found himself floating in a dimension covered in pitch black, with purple lining what seemed to be the cavities and trailings within the void
"You are too weak. Your body can only do as much."
"But call upon the Warp my child, and everything will be fine."
"Do it!"
"Do it!"
Malfoy couldn't speak. Not that he didn't have the words, but that he could not speak altogether.
"Silence is acceptance you know?"
"A new fold?"
"Ooooh yes!"
Tendrils emerged from within the Warp, as they attempted to approach Malfoy. Alongside numerous horrors that plagued the galaxy clawed their way towards him.
'I-I...I don't want too. I don't know why, but I refuse. I REFUSE!'
'Conviction speaks louder than words child."
Malfoy was thrown into another dimension. This time, he was within a black void, with only one visible object in sight.
A gigantic skull, with the letters "XXI" engraved upon its forehead.
"You find not the reason you refuse, but you feel it within your heart have you not?"
"The what?" Malfoy asked, surprised at how deep his voice was.
"The love, the belief, the faith? The wrath, the anger, the resentment."
The skull speaks true, for within him, a fire was burning. This was a fire, that burns, yet reduces nothing into ash.
A true ethereal flame, able to be molded by the will.
The will of an Astartes,
With this fire, he burned the horrors of the warp. Then he returned to the plane of existence with which, Almond was brutally murdered.
"No...this isn't real...I feel it within my bones. Away from me! Vile projections!"
Fire engulfed the projection, burning everything.
The mages, the dragons, the soldiers;
Almond, his home...
Everything, burned by his will.
Then he was plunged into the realm of reality.
From within the void, the skull dissipated. But not before it uttered its final words.
"Your life is bound into my service. You shalt know no death, for such is the fate of the legionnaires: To be bound within my will...
...Animus Malorum...
He stood tall. Taller than what he used to be.
He was also larger. Although unusually large, he found himself thinner than the monsters around him.
But what was peculiar however, was the fire that engulfed his body.
The ethereal flame, gift of the Animus to the loyal.
His brothers only stared at him, as he regarded himself.
He asked them, in a calm voice, "What am I?"
They drew nearer to him, but stopped a good distance away from him. Servitors entered the area, laughing maniacally as a large clamp grasped his entire frame. Then the servitors did their work, placing plates, trinkets, connections and wiring together. And soon, as the dust settled, and the clamps raised...
A new battle brother stood on the stage. Although a neophyte is usually a scout, the Legion held none of the Codex's military doctrines.
They were riddled with madness after all.
"It...works...ahaha...ahahaha! The Prototype lives!" The servitors exclaimed as they examined their handiwork.
The Astartes heeded not their words, but examined his new frame. Then, he turned towards his fellow Battle Brothers, then exclaimed with his deep voice.
"What would you have me do brothers?"
The woman clasped her pendant as she continued mumbling to herself, even amidst the blood and carnage caking the village.
"Imperator deferer! Imperator deferer!"
"What she saying?"
"I don't know commander. I think she's fucking nuts. We should silence her. She's annoying me the fuck out,"
The commanding mage turned towards the commoner, ready to pulverize her with earth magic.
But alas, it did not come, as a large metal slammed into him from above. The shockwave causing a cloud of dust to blow all over the place.
"Somebody get that fucking dust off!"
A wind mage casted gale over the debris, revealing a large, black colored Golem painting the ground red with the blood from the commanders head. It was in the shape of a skull, with the letters XXI inscribed on its forehead.
The sign of the Animus.
He threw the head towards the mages as he finished his deed, before kneeling down and placing a large slab of metal on his knees, as he uttered a quick word of prayer.
"In hoc signo vinces."
Embers flowed at its plate,
"In madness, I serve. In madness, I purge."
as he stood up from his kneel.
"In madness, I immolate."
He then lifted the slab of metal on his hands and fired flaming rounds towards the mages, pulverizing them on the spot, before the embers on his body caught on fire as well.
With one final sentence, he said.
"In Dedicatum Imperatum Ultra Articulo Mortis."
"Attica..."
An Astartes wearing no helmet stood at the helm of the Star Fortress-turned-asylum. His thoughts cast into the void, which enabled him to watch his fellow battle brothers.
Thus, he also possess the ability to discern the events that will come to pass.
His concentration, was with the first Gene-seed produced Astartes of the Legion.
His name was Attica Centurius, leader of the Legion.
And so he turned, to face his fellow brother.
An Astartes, rotting, feeble, yet possesses the strength of a thousand daemons, regarded him with no respect.
He did not mind, for the Legion leaves no room for doctrine.
And so he answered, "The boy will prove adept at battle. He will have to, for such was his destiny all along. The Emperor's will has wrought it so."
"But...the madness..." His Battle Brother replied.
Attica returned to gaze at the stars, "He will have to face it, as all Astartes must face hardships to overcome their trials. Deathlessness, Madness, The Warp; all must be conquered to produce a strong Legionnaire."
The Battle Brother immolated into fire as he left the helm of the Fortress.
"The Emperor is with him," Attica mumbled, "He shall not be in want."
And so the Centurius surveyed the prototype's battle.
"AAAAAGHH!"
A flaming Astartes cleaved a mage in half with his combat knife, and blasted some more with his bolt pistol. With each strike, the flames grew. Cackling in the air like demons whispering to his ears. The rest spread over his armaments; his bolter, and his knife.
And so he used these to immolate the fools of the Reconquiesta.
"We need backup know!"
A mage said. But such, he was lost, as the Astartes fixed his gaze on him, and, with burning eyes, he ran towards the screaming mage, and plunged his knife deep in his torso, catching the heart with it.
"Excommunicate Traitoris..."
"What are you mongrels doing?" A voice shouted from the shrouded fog, "Its just a single golem! Earth magic! Crush it! The commoners just got lucky..."
The fog drifted to reveal a fat, bald mage.
The commander from the projections...
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
The Astartes screamed in fury, as he charged the commander. His entire flame now burning up high. His bolter and his knife discarded, disintegrating into air.
He wanted to crush this heretic with his bare fists.
"What the-"
The Mage could not continue his words, as the "Golem" was upon him, crushing his spine, tearing his flesh.
"W-WAIT! WHAT DO YOU WANT?! I CAN GIVE YOU RICHES! I CAN GIVE YOU GLORY! ANYTHING PLEASE! JUST...DON'T...KILL...ME!"
The Astartes did not heed his words, as he continued to pulverize the mage. The others watched in horror, as it pounded and stomped and teared flesh apart.
"RAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The Astartes burst into a gigantic vortex of flames, burning the other mages with him.
And so they dissapeared into thin air, save for the embers, and ashes that littered the battlefield.
The woman hid within a decrepit house. The structure which, was burned into half by the Astartes' rage.
"Imperator deferer."
Attica stood in the Fortress' bridge, as the Astartes of the Legion lies assembled beyond. They watch with eerie silence as the Centurion addressed them.
"Today marks the day that our Legion will change. The Emperor has spoken, the Animus has chosen. With this new Gene Seed, we will revolutionize the purging flames of the Emperor."
He turned towards the stars, that graces the Fortress within the system, "We are undeath. We strive in madness; we live within hopelessness. Such is so, that we truly have no fear. We die, and we rise only to do battle once again."
"These heretics will know our wrath." The Centurion continued as he faced the Astartes' once again, "And soon shall it be. For our new battle brother, aided by the Animus, has eviscerated the one of the heretics' commanders that would have desecrated the holy conclave that is his people. With his first taste of battle, so did he first tasted the madness that plagues us. The madness that claimed his life."
An empty spot beside him burst into flames, as an Astartes rose out from it, burned and torn, with wounds cleaved; etched deeper within his armor.
Atticus raised the skull: The Animus Malorum up high, and so, the Astartes' wound reknit themselves. His bounds bound together once again, his burns quenched, and his life returned to him once again. The eyes of his power armour lit up once more, and it was followed by burning rage and passion.
Attica exclaimed once more, "Malfoy has died, Malfoy has returned. Long live Brother Malfoy."
