A/N The conclusion grew to a little longer than I originally planned, so I'm going to post it in two parts with an epilogue added to the second or posted shortly thereafter.
Early 36th Millennium, dawn of the Plague of Unbelief
The Deep Reach
Scholomance, Blackstone Fortress and the fabled nest of the Cosmic Serpent
Empty. That was the entirety of the thought in Basil's mind as he made his way down the burrow. As soon as we passed through the gate, I knew the others were here. Even before our augurs detected them, I knew, he reminded himself. I knew Rubha Àird Driseig had passed through the great Warp gate floating in the void and was docked on the other side of Scholomance. Knew that the Llangynidr was docked too. He paused, trying to focus his thoughts. Knew that she was with them. Basil grimaced inside his helmet. I'm sorry, he said in frustration. But now, I feel nothing. Nothing besides those who I arrived with. Basil glanced over his shoulder at the narrow column of troops following in his wake and the beams of light from the walkers in their midst. Lerriksen has them in good order, Basil concluded upon spying his friend watching the columns pass by where he stood. It is the right call, leave him alone to command the Troopers while I do what must be done. Basil turned forward again, then reached out and touched the curved side of the burrow as he walked, dragging his gauntleted fingers across the black material. No psychic impressions to feel. Nothing. He knew the structure was ancient beyond reason and yet he could not feel its history. Does this material have something to do with it? Basil asked himself.
He glanced to his side at Fynn. The Apothecary moved easily, like Basil, and the Troopers had trouble keeping up with both of them. He has been careful to not look at me but I know he has been watching me closely. He turned his head forward again but kept thinking about the Apothecary. What is he thinking? Is there more Matthias told him that he hasn't revealed to me? I could just look into his mind and see…Basil quickly dismissed that thought. I will not betray my Brother like that. He felt an approaching presence. Jorik. The Aspirant's psychic signature may have become nearly invisible after his possession and subsequent exorcism but Basil had no difficulty in detecting him for had an intricate tie to that exorcism. He led it.
The boy closed half the distance between himself and Basil, carrying his armour and weapons well despite the weight. "Inquisitor Basil," he yelled. "There is something up here you should see." Without waiting, or saying another word, the boy turned back around and hurried on down the burrow.
Basil broke into a run, not willing to waste precious time if the something he should see was important and, likewise, not wishing to waste precious time if it were not important. Although he had no black carapace organ implanted into his back for the armour to interface with, Basil knew that it didn't matter. Having resized his form to that of the deceased Brother Boyana, the power armour fit him perfectly. Basil knew that he and his armour would move as one regardless. He left Fynn behind, and in only a couple moments, had caught Jorik. Caught the boy just as he stopped at the entrance to a side burrow of roughly eight metres in height.
"Inside," Jorik said as he pointed to the burrow entrance.
Without acknowledging Jorik at all, Basil simply walked past the boy and into the burrow. Drawn by what lay within. He quickly noticed that an alcove had been carved into each side of the burrow in which he walked. The first three on each side were empty and did not appear to have ever held anything but that changed at the fourth. He had to lean forward to see within as the alcove was taller than the burrow was high.
In the back of the alcove, an intricate bas-relief had been carved into the material. A relief that appeared to be some variety of immense ork that was nine metres tall, bristling with muscles and enormous tusks protruding from its mouth. The image of an enormous ork with intelligence and cunning not held by other orks. Nor was its wargear of the low quality typically fashioned by orks. The power armour appeared to have been fashioned by skilled hands as did the enormous power axe it bore. Is this a Krork? Basil asked himself. The progenitor race from which the orks devolved? He did not need to glance behind him to know that a similar ork form would have been carved as a relief into the alcove on the other side, or that similar reliefs were carved down the line, or that at the very end was a single form. He simply knew it. Is this where Dromlach fashioned the Krork race? Each alcove for an individual with differing characteristics. An individual modeled after the relief it was fabricated in front of? He glanced to the end of the burrow. And there is the prototype. Basil stepped forward into the alcove then reached out and placed his hand on the relief.
A flash of psychic energy arced to Basil from the dark material and with it came information. Images flashed before his eyes. Codes and symbols. Genetic instructions…and Words of Creation. The very steps to create the creature crafted into the bas-relief of black material was passed to him in an instant. He considered committing it to memory but let it pass. Why would I ever want to do that? Basil asked himself.
He quickly turned back down the burrow and exited it where Jorik and Fynn were patiently waiting, along with a squad of Troopers who had pulled ahead to see where their Commander had gone. "You!" Basil snapped at the Sergeant. "Remain here. Allow no one to pass but me."
"Yes, Commander Cadmus," the Sergeant answered but Basil had already moved on.
And he was running.
Basil passed burrow after burrow, each similar to the one with the Krorks, and he knew what he was passing each time. Where the burrows had been empty of impressions before, they called out to him. The first three were ancient intelligent species who had become extinct before mankind had ever existed. The fourth held a race which the Imperium had hunted to extinction during the Great Crusade. And the fifth held Aeldari. He knew what was within the burrows and he knew the genetic secrets he could access there. Thoughts passed through Basil's head as he received the images. Did the Cosmic Serpent create all these? Did the Serpent genetically engineer some yet copy others? Copy from nature or from another Old One? While those thoughts passed through his head, he psychically called out to a squad at a time and gave them directions to guard a particular burrow or other.
All that came to a stop when he reached a final burrow.
Something about it seemed different. It looked the same but was different. Basil stood there, oblivious to Fynn and Jorik standing beside him. Stood there and stared at it confused, until realization dawned upon him. This burrow is new, he realized.
Basil quickly entered and marched toward the end. He passed the first pair of alcoves but knew each side was empty without looking. No bas-relief in the black material. No genetic sequencing. No Words of Creation. He passed a second pair of empty alcoves, and then a third, and he kept going. Kept going until he reached the end.
And at the end was a single alcove. But unlike the others, it was not empty. In it stood a single individual nearly three metres in height. An individual clad in golden auramite power armour. In one hand, with its butt to the ground and held upright, was a great halberd like power weapon with a bolter variant installed near its blade while in its other hand was an auramite buckler. A Custodes, Basil realized with shock, but that was not the only thing he realized with shock. The figure's helm bore no red crest and neither of its pauldrons bore any markings. Not only that, the armour was completely pristine, no blemishes marred its surface as if it had never seen combat. The figure's image was identically sculpted in a bas-relief at the back of the alcove. In stasis, Basil realized.
Basil stepped inside the alcove and placed his hand upon the armoured chest of the Custodes and closed his eyes. He was immediately assaulted by visions. Birth on Holy Terra. He saw battles he had never heard of and watched simulations he had never dreamt. Fire and blood. Death. Victory. There are gaps, Basil recognized in frustration. I don't even know his name. But, in those visions, Basil saw a figure he recognized too, recognized from the many picts Matthias had given him to study. Inquisitor Ivan Ipabog in a simple robe with no force staff or weapons and he was surrounded by black-cloaked Custodians in their golden armour and red crested helms. One spoke. "The Doomscryers have seen what may come," the Custodes said. "And it has been determined that this must be investigated. One of us will return with you to the Abalatian Reach. Seek the child's origin. Seek Scholomance." But the Custodes did not give the name of who would accompany Ipabog.
Seek the child's origin? Seek Scholomance? Basil said to himself. What child? Ipabog is the one who took custody of me here in the Reach and turned me over to the Adeptus Astra Telepathica on Holy Terra. Is the Custodes referring to me? Basil tried to picture his mother and father in his mind but could not. Why can I not remember them? Basil asked himself in frustration. I always could before. Doubt set in. Or did I always think I could though I could not? Basil pondered the Custodes before him and the gaps in the past he could not fill and the missing ornamentation. Pondered until realization set in. This is not the Custodes who came to the Reach with Ipabog. This is not even a Custodes at all. It is a genetic replica of the one who came. A replica which does not have a full history or set of memories. To whom does it owe allegiance? Another thought crept into Basil's mind. He glanced at the bas-relief behind the individual, knowing the knowledge psychically stored within the black material. Knowing this was not an ancient creation. We are not alone here. The Cosmic Serpent has come home, that is, if it ever left at all.
"Are you there, Dromlach?" Basil asked aloud, not bothering to telepathically project his thoughts in search of the Serpent. If it's here, it'll hear me. There was no answer aloud or in his head. The silence dragged on.
"You may call me Ilya Murometz," the replica said, voice augmented by its vox, without the faintest of movements.
Something deactivated the stasis field. Was it me by accident or the Cosmic Serpent itself? Basil did not wait for an answer to that question. "Is that your name or the name of the one from which you were copied?" he asked.
"I do not know," Ilya answered.
Destroy him or bring him with me? Basil quickly made his decision. "Come with me. There is work to do and there will be enemies to kill." Basil turned and walked away.
"I will come," Ilya answered.
Without another word, Basil turned and made his way back down the burrow with Ilya following him. Within a few moments he had reached the end of the burrow to find Jorik and Fynn still waiting on him although the vanguard of the Troopers had passed the burrow by. The Apothecary froze in place, a rarity for any space marine, when Ilya emerged behind Basil. Jorik simply stared, dumbfounded. But Basil found something else too when he exited the burrow.
The emptiness is gone! He ran toward the front of the Troopers passing by him. Ran, followed by Ilya, and then Fynn, and finally by Jorik. She is here!