If Amon had been told about the battle he was now part of instead of seeing it with his own two eyes, he would have had difficulty believing it. The things which had charged this rag-tag band of humans had been spawned of the nightmares of a madman - and that may well have been more than a metaphor. They reeked of the Great Ocean, but seemed possessed by an intelligence and purpose that Amon had not thought could exist within those roiling currents of energy. These were not just mindless void predators, as he had encountered before, nor the pet-like beings of the sort the Thousand Sons had once bonded as tutelaries, nor even the human-like sapience that had only rarely been encountered by his legion. These were, rather, like splinters of a common thought which had birthed itself. Even for a veteran such as himself, seeing such things pushed his understanding to the limit.
But more importantly, nothing he had ever seen, even in his own legion, could prepare him for the ferocity of raw psychic power that those he had once called brother and cousins, as well as the humans they were with, now unleashed. His legion had always been steeped in Warp-power, but this was something else. At Nikaea they had been called sorcerers and heretics. But the truth that the Thousand Sons had always known, and Amon was now seeing the proof of, was that they had only accessed a fraction of the power the Warp had to offer.
As the wave of incandescent azure flame rolled out from the head of this group which seemed to refer to itself as "The Brotherhood", Amon could not stop thinking. What the hell is happening here, he wondered. How could his brother and cousins, let alone mere mortals, have access to this kind of power when they had never once displayed it before? For once, he found himself on the other side of the coin as he had always been on. Now he was suspicious of those he would have, not long ago, walked into hell with - but then, Khyron had himself said that he was not Ahriman. At least he understood why he had been placed in the rear lines; but now Amon could not help but wonder what their hosts had been forced to sacrifice or trade away to acquire such power. And secretly, although he would never admit it, he wondered how he could acquire it too.
A soft breeze snapped Amon back to reality. It brought a sweet fragrance with it, and Amon knew instantly that it came from the monsters in front. He struggled to believe that such hideous monsters could be so…fragrant. Amon was certain that this had disarmed many mortals before now, and he would not be deterred by it. However, the smell continued to linger in his nose even as it penetrated through his armour, and Amon had to fight its allure.
Suddenly the cloudless sky began to darken, and Amon and the rest of the Thousand Sons looked up to see the shapes of perhaps fifty winged monsters circling overhead like vultures. "Fire on those…things!" Amon shouted, foreseeing that they would be coming at the Astartes. The Thousand Sons raised their bolters to the sky as the Furies dove towards the Brotherhood. The Pyrae and Raptora loosed lightning bolts and telekinetic strikes into the pack, even as the Pavoni and Athanaeans launched blind attacks. Several of the winged monstrosities fell or collided with their fellows and knocked both of them out of the sky. But the time the flyers banked for their scything run at the Thousand Sons, only about half remained. Even still, the sight of over twenty of the winged humanoids diving at the Thousand Sons was intimidating.
Amon drew his hequa staff and split one of these monsters in half with a perfect downward strike, assisted by his precognition. Two marines behind him fired close range bolt shots into the bodies of a few other beasts which followed. Their dead weight continued onward into the Thousand Sons and knocked two to the ground with sheer mass. Three rushed one of Amon's sergeants, a man named Ptah, and forced him down as well. On the dusty ground, their claws and beaks raked at his armour. Ptah's fists lashed out and shattered one of their arms. One of the remaining monsters drove its claws into one of the eye-pieces on Ptah's helmet, shards of visor and razor claws digging themselves into Ptah's eye. Ptah yelled and conjured fire in his hand, immolating the injured beast. It's charred corpse rolled away as the other two instantly fled a foe they had clearly under-estimated. One got away, but Ptah grabbed the other's leg and pulled it back as his stood up. One punishing blow from Ptah's fist caved in its skull, and the thing died with a whimper.
Blood dribbled down Ptah's cheek as he stood up, along with several others who had been forced to the ground in the Furies' savage dive. They had not stayed long and only eight had survived the Thousand Sons' retaliation, but two of their small contingent were injured to the point of being out of the fight, and Amon was certain that these monsters were expendable. Amon tried to assess how the battle had progressed in the brief instants they had been occupied. Heavy cavalry had joined the fray and were gouging holes into the battle-lines, which were swiftly plugged by both attackers and defenders alike. The horde that assailed them looked to be at least a thousand strong. Which made it even more amazing that this contingent of mere mortals was pushing back these aether-monsters.
"Sir," Ptah spoke, pointing to the hill line, "what in the name of Terra is that?!" Amon looked. At first, it looked as if he was witnessing one of the most majestic sunsets he had ever seen. Bright hues of the entire spectrum of colour lit up the hill line. It was chaotic but beautiful, so much so that Amon nearly missed the monstrous being from which the being the light emanated. Its ancient wings were folded behind it's back and it appeared to lean on its staff for support. The staff itself was made of knobbled wood with a giant tome, which was burning but not consumed by the fire perched on top. The thing resembled an ancient man and a giant bird at the same time. Its legs looked withered and frail; the skin which was not covered with moulting, iridescent coloured feathers was clearly wrinkled. Its twin beaked heads surveyed the battlefield. One pair of beady yellow eyes starred across the raging battlefield and met Amon's and he knew that the creature had not just seen him, but seen into him.
Only the crack of bolter fire snapped Amon's attention back from the psychic effect that had held him transfixed. Ptah had given the order to fire on the creature. Bolter fire and spells flew over the heads of the combatants and streaked towards the bird-like creature. It took a moment for Amon to raise his own weapon and conjure a spell to add to the volley. The creature casually raised a telekine shield to block the projectiles being hurled against it. Its wings opened and as it took off Amon could not believe the creature could even support its own weight. "Keep firing!" Ptah shouted to the contingent of Thousand Sons and they all obeyed, assuming that Amon had told Ptah to order it. In truth, Amon was still trying to regain his sensibilities. Mercifully, several other Thousand Sons seemed to be in Amon's predicament, but none of them had the humiliation of being unmanned whilst commanding.
Several of the back members of the Brotherhood had started to mix themselves around the Thousand Sons. Their spells flew into the sky and impacted into the shimmering shield the wizened bird had erected, but none could penetrate it. Ordan and Khyron also felt it necessary to join the Thousand Sons. They don't trust you, Amon thought, or at least it seemed like his own thought. It sounded like his own moreso than those of the Athanaeans, at least... and in any case it was true. Amon's jaw locked. How could Ahriman, or whatever he called himself, not trust him?
He loves those humans more than you. His own thought, or a skilled sending... it mattered little. The thought was true either way. Amon had not quite realized it before, but that was the reason for Ahriman's - no, Khyron's - aggressive behavior towards the Thousand Sons.
Mere humans, how could he…. Amon's train of thought was cut off when the twin-headed bird-thing landed and sent a gust of air against the gathered group.
Most under the place where the monster had landed had scattered, but a few humans had been crushed under its bulk. One fought through the pain of his ribs impaling his lungs. He drew his sword and tried to stab the creature in the leg. The staff came down and crushed the human's skull before the Sword could make the blow. "Master Khyron, it's a pleasure," the creature's left head crowed mockingly. "And Master Ordan. We are honoured!" the right head crowed with a note of bitter sarcasm. Amon could not help smiling. He did enjoy the 'masters' being insulted, even if it was by a hostile monster.
But then, Amon recognized, the masters were not exactly friendly either. And Amon had impersonated other Astartes before, in his role as leader of the Hidden Ones. Khyron did not have Ahriman's memories, nor know his name, and he wielded his powers in a manner entirely unlike Amon's brother... he was not Ahriman. But he had claimed to be a defender of the Imperial Truth, despite the context making no sense -
If the monsters overran their position, they would all die. But if the beings desecrating his brother's corpse won this battle, Amon worried their fate would be worse still.
And why is he so strangely concerned with those 'humans', really?
The battle continued to rage; Khyron did not reply to the mockery. This was one of the best statements of his change. He had nothing to say, no response. All he did was throw his spear, aimed squarely for the daemon's right head. The daemon's staff moved perfectly in time for deflect the spear. Amon had not noticed that there had been a moment of silence and stillness after the time this bird-creature had landed, a moment which had been abruptly broken by Khyron's attack. The Thousand Sons, Amon among them, unleashed every bolt in their clip against the beast. Ptah, along with his fellow Pyrae and Raptora, unleashed all the spells in their arsenals, and the Swords acted in tandem. But this creature was a sorcerer without peer, and its counter attack was brutal. Warp-flames and sweeps of its crackling staff dealt fatal blows. The battle had begun in earnest….