I am alive.
It has been such a long time. And I am not talking about the last time I updated, I am talking about the time almost six months ago when I said I would have less time to write than before. So much stuff has happened since. I have learned the ways of war in honor of the Blood God. I have schemed and conspired to avoid so much nasty stuff that the Architect of Fate would be proud. I have received the blessings of the Plague Lord and felt his touch upon my skin. And I have endured hardship and suffering worthy of the Dark Prince's approval.
No more. It is all behind. Nevermore. And while I am not truly free quite yet, I hope this moment marks a start of new age of enlightenment and updating. The chapters should be coming a lot faster from this day forward, almost as fast as back on the golden dawn of this fic so long ago when I was pumping out chapters like Eye of Terror pumps out weird shit.
Btw, has anyone of you taken a look at the recent Traitor Legions supplement to the table top game? It has been a long time coming, maybe my Chaos Space Marines can finally win some games. Some very nice Legion relics in that book. Maybe we may see some of them in this story in the future, *wink wink*
Chaos is the Prize Chapter 24
It was not the only corridor to his destination, but it was his favorite. Maybe even his favorite single corridor in all of the monstrous structure that was the Imperial Palace of Terra. It was just an ordinary corridor, made of gray stone and arching metal grids, not housing any doors along it's length, it's only purpose to cut some time off from travelers. Only thing that made it exceptional was that the cold stone bricks were full of scrambled text, carved into the walls along the decades by Gods knew who. Legionnaires had definitely been on the matter, it was easy to decipher from the contexts of the writing.
The walls resembled the dinerium of the palace the Legionnaires were currently using. One of the eating hall's wall was rather similar, full of writings made by Legionnaires long dead. But that wall was hard to decipher, it was too full, and many of the writing was covered by a single massive "Death to the False Emperor." He preferred this one, it was much less crowded and offered greater treasures.
Ceruleon Learnean pulled to a stop, reaching out to touch the harsh stone of the wall, sweeping a singular piece of lines with his hand. "We no Longer bear the Word. We bear Lorgar," the carved letters spoke.
Ceruleon loved to read these scriptures, even if he had read them a thousand times over. Some of them had meanings he could not even guess, and some of them were plain and obvious falsehoods and misinformation. Or were they?
A truth was a complicated matter. What was really truth? How could a one know things one had been told about matters that he had not personally witnessed were true? There was evidence, confirmation by multiple sources or the information could be given by a source of absolute trust. But there was always lies. Lies were everywhere. Some them were bold, completely trying to rearrange the truth. Some were subtle, hanging on the heels of truth like parasites, making the truth worthless or twisting it into a parody of what really is or was.
It was said that the first casualty of war was the truth. Wars, The War, had gone on for a long, long time. And The Long War was far from over.
Lies were the bread and wine of the XXth, it's greatest weapon and it's preferred instrument in all things. Ceruleon knew this, and accepted it. But there was a downside of being a masterful liar among a band of masterful liars. There was a downside of being a master of masks and deceit. Because if one were to wear a mask too long, even taking multiple mask and falsehoods over the previous ones and spreading lies all around, the truth was suffocated, hidden too deep for anymore to dig up. And when everyone of your kin around you were the same, and had been for decades before your own existence, the truth was out of reach, lost beyond almost any possibility of reaching. When truth was hidden too well and for too long, it was forgotten.
And then the truth stopped mattering.
Ceruleon was an Alpha Legionnaire. What did he know of the truth?
Ceruleon pushed the thoughts aside, he was loosing the track of himself. He took a few steps, searching with his gaze his favorite piece of writing among hundreds of others. It was rather high on the wall in the middle of the corridor, partly covered by two others: "Istavan was an inside job," and "Curze did nothing wrong!"
It only took a second of observation to make out the lines beneath the two. "Our Crusade may one day adopt another name, but it will never truly end," it read. Such interesting words. Ceruleon wondered what kind of a person had spoken or written those words. And how right they may have been.
He left the corridor behind, making his way down long stairs soon after them. Really long stairs. He was descending deep beneath the ground, deep within the palace's depths. The walls turned to pure, unconstructed rock. Soon it was not anymore torches or lumen bulbs lighting his way. There was a light of vivid, changing colors coming from ahead, dying the rocky walls in his way with haunting spectral shades, like twisted reflections that water might cast. Ceruleon continue forward, going ever deeper. The further he went, the more colors danced alongside him up the walls.
And soon he came to a sudden stop, ceasing his walk on the edge of a cliff where the stone brick of the floor suddenly stopped and gave into a massive cave. And the Eye.
It was impossible the estimate the size of the cave. Only certainty was that it seemed far larger than was physically possible, continuing in every direction, even up where is should have met the rest of the palace and even the surface of Remnant, but it did not.
The cave was filled with what one might call a storm leaking from a wound to hell, if one lacked imagination. It was a maelstrom of impossible propositions, a wormhole into the half reality and half unreality that made it up.
It was called the Eye of Terrar (Yes, Ceruleon was sure the inventor of the name had thought themselves very clever). It had been created during the end of the Siege, and the final stage of the great Heresy. How or why, nobody alive knew. If one were to look into the deep careful enough, one could see a faint golden beacon at the center of the ever changing storm of madness, a singular constant that had once been the center of the whole palace, now engulfed by an eternal Warpstorm.
Stairs led down the side of the cavern on Ceruleon's right side, leading ever downwards and vanishing into the storm somewhere far bellow. Nobody who had ever entered the Eye had come back. Ceruleon however descended them for only a little while, just enough that he could reach a massive platform made of webbing metal grid some way down, the large terrace sticking from the cave's wall offering a see through stage above the Eye.
As Ceruleon reached the point where he could step on to the terrace, he discovered there was a person hunched in the center of the platform, a shape glad in red and gold and brown. Ceruleon walked towards Maroos, who was praying in the unlight of the Eye, like he so very often did.
"Ceruleon" Maroos acknowledged him as Ceruleon stopped a couple of meters behind the Legionnaire of the XVIIth. He must have guessed it was him. Maroos was really good at guessing. Just like Ceruleon.
"Would you mind leaving for a moment. I would have an audience with Sythonax," Ceruleon said, glancing downwards through the metal grid. His gaze did not stay long. It was unwise to look at the Eye for a prolonged time.
"Oh? Is there something you don't wish me to hear?" Maroos asked curiously as he rose to his feet and turned to face Ceruleon with a raised brow.
Ceruleon looked into the golden eyes. "It is a small matter of the XXth, but you know how we like to keep even small things to our self."
Maroos let out a chuckle as he headed for the stairs leading upwards towards the palace without protest. "As you wish," he said without looking back, and soon disappeared from sight, the sounds of his steps disappearing a bit later.
Ceruleon turned his gaze from the stairs. Maybe he would have shouted a call for the Netherkin, maybe he would have acted some Warp ritual to summon the one he was wishing to see, but he did not need to. The instant he turned around, he was no longer the sole occupant of the platform.
The creature was massive, three times the height of Ceruleon, towering over him with it's otherworldly bulk. It was hard to focus one's gaze upon it, it's outlines seemed to blur like they were not fully there, or like there was suddenly something wrong with Ceruleon's sense as he his eyes tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
The creature's exoskeleton like body was made of pale, ghoulish and chitinous looking mass, it's lower feet were black scaled hoofs, and there were massive dark leathers wings folded on it's back. It's two too many joints containing hands were empty, it's long, inhuman claw-less fingers looking somehow frail and strong at the same time. It's rather humanoid and by comparison tiny face looked very out of place in the inward folding socked of it's neck, it's two short horns shooting up from it's white scalp like large knifes. It had a very wide mouth, a row of diamond white gleaming fangs peeking out from it's lip-less maw.
But the most disturbing thing about the creature was its eyes. They were not endless fiery pits to hell, nor black sockets full of darkness or beacons of sorcerous light. They were human eyes, completely ordinary eyes of humanity without a sign of of touch of the Warp. Those very human silver eyes looked so very wrong, so utterly out of place and in discord with reality, in contrast to the rest of the creature's monstrous body.
"You seek my council, young head of the Hydra?" The daemonic prince of of the Empyrean spoke without moving its mouth, the voice a purring gust of wind from the unreal realm. Hearing it made Ceruleon's ears ache, not painfully, just a very annoying itch somewhere barely inside his skull.
"Yep," Ceruleon said to the massive daemon.
Sythonax had once been an Legionnaire of a Legion it did not wish to share, at the time of the Heresy. It was the only of the Ascended one that had returned from the Warp in the days after the Siege, keeping an eye on the Legionnaires in behalf of the Gods by its own words. It was partly its influence that had prevented the Legions from killing each other over the course of the Long War.
"How long has it been since you last came to meet me? How long has it been since you last felt the stare of the Eye upon you? You don't come here to talk to me until there is something you want to know and have no way of learning it yourself."
"Does anyone?"
"Yeees. Maroos comes often. Most often of you all. Such a devoted Bearer. You are lucky to have him you know? Him and not some self centered beggar for the power of the Gods. He is more than happy to talk to me about the Gods, about the Legions, about what is and what was. What is to come. That is something that has lately draw quite many of you to seek my council. The future."
"You might see how it might interest us little mortal fleshlings most out of the past, the present and the future," Ceruleon said with a smirk.
"Interest you young sons of the Legions it does. You are so eager to get your hands on the sweet fruits of possibilities that the near future will bring within your reach. Dunstan has come often to ask of the future as of late, as has Smurfus. So much more than they used to. Even Tsagaan came to me once to ask of things to come.
"What have you told them?"
"Oh? Does the little snake of secrets and lies want hear of the business of others? Did you not just send Maroos way because you did not want your exchange with me to be heard?"
"You scare me when you pretend to have any semblance of fairness or consideration."
"You should try sometimes."
Ceruleon chuckled. "I am going to Vale," he said. "By brother has plans in there and requires my assistance. But I though while I was there, I could take care of another matter."
"You speak of the child," Sythonax said as a statement rather than as a question.
Ceruleon nodded. Sythonax was a being of the Immatrium, able to read the tidings of the Great Ocean. He knew of the vision granted to Ceruleon.
"Yes," Ceruleon confirmed. "And I need your help with some specifications."
"What do you require?"
No demand for a sacrifice, no asking of some unholy favor. The daemon was offering the information willingly. Sythonax was being a suspiciously cooperative daemon prince.
"I require a location of the child," Ceruleon spoke his request.
"You have it", The daemon said , and Ceruleon's mind exploded with unreal sensation. His eyes went blind for a couple of seconds, his ears full of voices he had no business hearing, his veins freezing before catching a flame.
It was all over as suddenly as it had begun. He gasped for breath as he stumbled not to fall. His senses returned to him and he raised his hand to touch his face that was wet with his tears and a blood from his nose.
And he knew the location.
Jaune felt down. Like, really down.
He was sitting on a bench on the main road between Beacon and the landing pads. He was slumping with his elbows against his knees, gaze held down. He knew he should get ready for the dance, but he did not feel like hurrying, there was plenty of time and nobody was waiting for him anyways.
The sight of Weiss asking Neptune out for the dance had really crushed his party mood. He had not even had the chance to offer her the flower he had gotten for her. It had hurt. It really had hurt. It was still hurting.
Not only emotionally, he could also feel his body aching and his heart devoid of life energy. Who would have thought it could hurt this much. He was just fine with sitting here and wallowing in the sorrow of his existence.
Suddenly he could hear a sound of airship thrusters over in the distance. He glanced up and saw a singular airship emerge from the night and land on the main landing platform of Beacon.
A lone figure stepped out of the ship and the aircraft instantly departed, vanishing into the darkness as suddenly as it had appeared, heading back towards Vale's distant lights.
The figure walked along the road with heavy steps and when he finally reached the bench Jaune was sitting on, he crashed down right alongside Jaune, startling the blonde boy.
"Whoah, where have you been to come back this late at night?" Jaune asked, the sudden appearance of the person next to him making him forget his misery for a second.
Sangur glanced at him, as if only now noticing Jaune was there. For a moment he just stared with bloodshot eyes. "In the thick of slaughter," he finally grunted and looked away.
Sangur certainly looked like he was just out of a fight. His clothes were dirty, covered in dust and small pieces of wood and foliage. His twin axes smelled of smoke and were letting tiny traces of dark vapor into the air.
"You were out fighting?" Jaune asked.
"Like every weekend," Sangur growled. "Forever Fall. Grimm. Killing."
"Ah. Okay." Jaune replied with slight bafflement. He just stared at Sangur before slumping down elbows against knees once again.
The two of them just sat there for a while, Jaune bathing in misery and Sangur resting after a hard night at whatever he had been doing.
"You should kill more. I would get some strength into that sorry body of yours and brighten your spirit." Sangur offered his wise advice after a long while.
Jaune did not answer. For another minute they just remained in silence, before Jaune spoke.
"You know, getting girls is really damn hard."
Sangur looked at him like he had no idea what Jaune was talking about.
"My father said that all women seek in a man is confidence. But my confidence and hard work just did not work. After all of my effort, it just was not good enough for Weiss. I feel so worthless."
The larger boy clad in red and brass next to him shook his head. "That is a stupid trail of thought." he said
Jaune raised his gaze.
Sangur continued. "Never let anyone tell you something like that matters. Having a girl is not a measure of a man," he said with such certainty and conviction that it actually boosted Jaune's spirit.
Sangur was right. Jaune wanted to believe it. And when he wanted to believe it he suddenly found he was certain of it. Yes, he had been rejected. Yes, it had hurt like hell. But it was not the end of the world. What was he actually doing here, sulking in his own misery? He suddenly felt a lot better. Talking to someone had really helped.
"Thank-"
"A measure of a man is how many enemies he has slain in battle!" Sangur went on.
Jaune was taken back a bit, but then chuckled a bit awkwardly but surprisingly serenely.
"I feel a lot better now," Jaune said as he rose up. "Sorry, gotta get going. There is a dance party to attend to."
Sangur only nodded in acknowledgement.
The night was suddenly much less dark than it had been a moment before.
Jaune took first step towards Beacon. "Are you going?" He asked as an afterthought from Sangur.
The rough looking boy shook his head. His left eye was twitching strangely. "Such event is full of Slaaneshi fagotry. It eats at my mind."
Jaune was not exactly sure how to respond to that. "What about you teammates? Are you not joining them?"
Sangur let out a grunt. "Azuhrius has gone back to the Kingdom of the Lost and the Damned. Nox is sleeping. He will not wake before tomorrow. And Azuhrius said something about how he was definitely not allowing Orchid to take part in such an occasion."
"Oh Okay. Well, see you. Thanks for not keeping me hostage anymore by the way."
"The pancakes were nice." Sangur muttered as Jaune started making his way towards Beacon. "We need more..."
Yes, Azuhrius had told him not to go into the dance.
Would he go anyway? Yes.
Orchid smiled as he made some final arrangements. He would not go to the 'dance', as in taking the dance floor. But he would make an donation to the the music of the night. That was not going to the 'dance', technically, like he was not dancing. He was not totally ignoring Azuhrius' words, right? He was sure someway his logic was sound. Sound, get it? (damn that was good and totally unintended, he thought afterwards)
Ozpin had arranged him a chance to make himself heard tonight. Why did the man say that he had made more mistakes than anyone else in the existence? He was a totally cool headmaster.
Orchid raised the small box from the ground and headed for the door. It was time to make this night unforgettable.
Nox had expected this. It had happened on most of his weekends at Beacon, more often than not. When he retired for his weekly rest he was always aware most probably a certain highly annoying scythe wielder would make an appearance in his dreams at some point.
But this time was different. Unforeseen, unprecedented, unique.
He was in Beacon. The shattered moon on the sky shone down it's light onto the warm night of the school. In all previous dreams with him and Ruby, they were in his ghost memories of Terra. Somewhere in it's dark corridors or the deep catacombs. But not now. This time they were outside.
The night felt good. Nox closed his eyes for couple of seconds and allowed his senses to feel this new dreamscape. It did not feel the same as a real night, but it felt still better than any of his previous dreams. Genuine night darkness, even if not complete blackness, was a wonderful thing. "Hello darkness my old friend…" Nox mused and suddenly he opened his eyes again.
A dream. He was in a dream. He suddenly realized how clear everything was for it to be dream. His dreams were not this clear. Dreams were hazy, imprecise and made him think and feel illogically. Now he was feeling like he was awake. Only the faintest clouding in the back of his mind and the some unreality of some sensations marked this as a definite dream.
Why was it different? What kind of special occasion was this?
Then he saw Ruby. She was dressed in an unusual attire, completely different from her normal combat gear except for the color scheme. The festive feeling of her costume vexed Nox. Her normal more Gothic style clothing was much better.
"What is going on here?" Nox asked as he walked towards Ruby.
The girl ignored him and started making her way away from him, heading into the night with no regard for him.
"Hey!" Nox grunted a bit louder. "I asked you a question."
Still Ruby did not respond, only continued moving away.
"Are you deaf or something…" Nox trailed off. This was a dream he suddenly remembered. His dream. But maybe not necessarily hers.
Nox kicked some speed with his raptor feet and quickly catches up to slower moving Ruby. He pulled past her and stepped right into her path. Ruby did not even blink as she soon walked right into to his face and then fluidly passed right through his body.
Nox glanced down at his chest that had not felt a thing and then turned to watch after Ruby. He then ran after her and started to follow.
Maybe this was only dream on his part, Nox suddenly realized as the two of them passed some of the buildings of the Beacon academy. Maybe these events he was seeing were actually happening right now as he was sleeping in his hidden coma sanctum on the attic of the dorm building.
"Well, little miss Rose, show me what is worth this exceptional circumstance."
Their way led to the CCT tower, and as Nox's gaze swept over the huge building, he caught a glimpse of a dark shape slipping in the main door. Ruby followed the shape and Nox followed Ruby.
There was a fallen Atlesian soldier half hidden on the left side of the entrance, dumped into cover of a bush, unconsciously sleeping on his watch most likely not intentionally.
Nox stared as Ruby did something with her scroll and there was a sound of a rocket engine to be heard in the night. A remote controllable weapon locker crashed into the ground from the sky, opening up to reveal Ruby's Crescent Rose Scythe. Crescent Rose Scythe Rifle? Scytfle~.
Ruby picked up her weapon and then checked on the soldier. After that she made her way into the building without wasting time, Crescent Rose raised in readiness. She would have looked a bit more threatening if she had not almost tripped on her ridiculous shoes three times on the way. She looked like she was not used to combat heels.
There were more Atlesian soldiers inside, all beaten down and knocked out. Nox made his way among them, seeing only few and little telling signs of weapon damage. Only one of them had signs of bullet damage on his armor. Maybe the attacker did not want to leave easily recognizable weapon trails, the school had people with some quite unique weapons which left quite recognizable marks. These were little scratches, the attacker had most likely used regulated force of their weapon to knock out the soldiers rather than to cleanly slice them to pieces or smash them to pulp.
One of the elevators across the hall had it's doors closed and the display indicated it was currently in use, ascending upwards the tower. The one who had caused this mess in the lobby was almost certainly on that elevator. Soon the display showed the elevator had stopped moving, currently remaining on the first communication level.
Ruby went through the Atlesian soldiers, making sure they were not in immediate danger.
How caring of you. Nox sneered.
Then Ruby picked another elevator, and Nox quickly jumped into it with her. Ruby pressed a button at the thing started ascending, every moment bringing them closer and closer to the culprit they were after.
The doors opened.
And there was no one.
The was space filled with monitors was completely empty of anyone and calm silent. Not a soul in sight, only faint hum of the towers machinery on the edge of hearing. For a moment it looked like nothing was wrong.
Then the masked woman stepped from behind one of the monitor tables. And then she attacked Ruby.
The night was nearing it's festive end when Orchid finally rose to the podium where the music system was located. The two tin heads that had been in charge of the sound for most of the evening stepped aside and allowed him to take control. The last calm beats of previous song died down on the background as Orchid finally got to lay his hand on the controls of the sound creation machines.
His final music number for the evening had been announced in the plans for the evening, but nobody here quite knew what they were in for.
Everything was in place, Orchid ran the final checks to see everything was ready. He could feel his blood start to rush in his veins at the prospect what he was about to do. The anticipation was making his skin ache.
He had never before had the opportunity to anything like this. There was no such equipment back at Terra. And there was no audience.
Here he had both. Coming here had been one of the best ideas of Azuhrius ever. Of all time.
Orchid leaned over the array of controls that he would used to work his miracle. His fingers reached towards a single switch that would start it all, release his masterful symphony to the ears of these souls in the dance hall. But he stopped just as the tip of his finger graced the control.
He heard a voice. A not just any voice. It came from within him, but it seems to echo through the curtain of reality itself. It slithered into his ear, caressing more senses than just his hearing, curling around his mind and soul like it owned it.
Orchid stared blankly forward with wide eyes and mouth.
"Shred their sanity with my song…" the voice whispered to him.
It was unbelievable...
Otherworldly...
Divine...
It was the most beautiful sound in existence, melodic and resonating beyond what was possible for a simple voice. The words it spoke to him were few, but they were the single greatest thing Orchid had ever experienced in his life. They were nectar to his soul, a divine blessing delivered to him that he was as powerless to ignore as he was not to obey.
Orchid blinked tears from his eyes as he turned his gaze downwards. His fingers were radiating with purplish divine aura, and the machinery below his hands was somehow feeling like it was forming a connecting with his very mind.
Orchid lowered his hands upon the controls. He had intended to give the people here an experience of noise and majesty, of beauty and chaos. Nothing too extreme, just little something Azuhrius would not lose his shit over if he found out.
But now… Now with some actual divine help that had been granted to him, he would be able to do so much more… Oh the things he would deliver...
The faintly radiating pink eyes gazed across the hall in front of them. Orchid took a one good deep breath. Then the hands descended over the sound controls.
And the world exploded with unholy noise and sensation.
Let me say that this chapter was quite a bit influenced by feedback from you readers. This chapter could have been very different. I really take into consideration all you say, even if not in a way you might expect. Oh the ideas I get from you...
Now, some of you might know Zahariel. He is the author behind fics Warband of the Forsaken Sons, as well as Roboutian Heresy. You might know I do artwork for the latter from time to time. Anyway, he also does 40k short stories, and more importantly under that: Chaos flavor quotes. I would now like to share and bring forth some of his Chaos quotes. These will mainly be about the Astartes Legions, I think Zahariel really succeeded with these.
I will only have here the quotes about Legions that have made an appearance in my story, as well as one special bonus pick. Also, these quotes are attributed to a Chaos Oracle of Tzeetch, so do not under any circumstances take these as absolutely truthful or unbiased. Never, NEVER fully trust anything anyone Chaos aligned says. Especially in my story~
Here we go:
"They hold many secrets, and their lords live every day in dread of their ancient sins being revealed. They do not realize that within the Eye, every scion of the Nine Legions know of the First's breaking, and laugh every time the Angels betray their allies to hide the evidence of their past treachery."
- on the Dark Angels
"Their pride was their downfall, for in their arrogance they believed that they could do no wrong, and thus did not see the yawning chasm before the path on which they were pushed. Now they are empty shells, forever hungering for more to consume in the vain hope of filling the hole inside their souls ..."
- on the Emperor's Children
"A fractured brotherhood ... or was it that they were never brothers at all ? They are killers and torturers all, but while some take pleasure in the fear of their victims, others simply use it as a tool. And yet, only a few have truly embraced Chaos, while the rest keep it at arm's length, prosecuting their vengeful war without its gifts. Does that make them strong, or foolish ?"
- on the Night Lords
"They are agents of terror. It is not death that walks alongside them, nor any of the Four. Instead, they spread fear around them, feeding upon it, growing stronger as they revel in the emotional turmoil they inspire. The daemons born of their deeds pay allegiance to no God, for Horror does not lie in any of their dominion."
- on the Night Lords
"Collared by their father, broken by their brother, branded by an uncaring god of mindless violence and carnage. Theirs is a life of endless torment, relieved only briefly by the shedding of blood. But even as their minds are slowly eaten away by the parasitic engine wired into their brains, they are fully aware of what is happening to them – it is how they react to that knowledge that differentiate them ..."
- on the World Eaters
"Their nobility is a lie; their perfection, an illusion. Those among them who cling to their Primarch's writings as if they were holy words insult his memory with their every breath, while those who truly embrace his teachings are rejected as dangerous deviants. In the end, they are nothing more than a joke to amuse the Dark Gods."
- on the Ultramarines
"They call out to the gods as they wreak slaughter upon their foes, for they know that the true temple of Chaos is on the battlefield. They believe themselves to be elevated above all others, the chosen warriors of Ruin. In truth, they are but slaves, too blind to even see their chains ..."
- on the Word Bearers
"Many times have the servants of the False Emperor believed these snakes to have finally been eradicated. But they turn every defeat into a victory, weaving lies with such skill that even they no longer know which of the myriad stories they hold in their minds is the truth ..."
- on the Alpha Legion
"Snakes, hiding from view even for the lords of the Crystal Labyrinth. Their minds are barred by such walls that even they know not what truly lies beyond. The weight of a thousand and one secrets has crushed them, and the might that was once theirs is now but a pale reflection of the shadow they cast still."
- on the Alpha Legion
And now for the last one. This quote actually is not originally about Chaos Space Marines, but it could express Venatores so well that I just had to share it:
"Champions of dead gods, echoes of a glorious past that was never as bright as the soul-broken claim it to be. Theirs is a false honor, and the deeds of the heroes they emulate were atrocities of unprecedented scale. In the end, they are nothing more than sad puppets, continuing their dance long after their master have left the stage ..."
Rest of Zahariel's one thousand quotes can be found from his 40k Short Stories on this site or from Spacebattles forums by simply googling 40k Chaos Flavor Quotes.
Leave a review, if you feel it in your heart, and Happy Holidays~