The Inquisitor

Chapter XVIII

I looked down utterly praising the Emperor for small mercies as Esdainn rapidly descended from another building's top. Heights, always fecking heights! I'd been rigidly forcing ever fiber and muscle to resist clenching when air seemingly refused gravity's natural inclination to descend weight. Just viewing streets from maybe twenty, or so stories made my gut churn strictly sick. More so whenever as a masked psyker defied reality's unyielding desire, it'd alone naturally had to have us fall to a brutal landing.

Ever since an arm wielding molten flame faded, did I look towards Esdainn who'd seemingly did not react visibly. Yet it imparted an almost mirthful warning which still resonated eerily smug, or perhaps warily impressed to have myself feel anxiety. Mon'keigh child, I suggest you shall learn whether your words are fickle, or foolishly given in ignorance. We'd departed soon after as I prepared myself to do whatever tasks to retrieve a stone, an almost maddening task to uphold as it'd been made clear it housed another entity capable to kill me effortlessly.

And I have to rely on Esdainn to speak to it, or explain somehow to avoid being burned alive! I thought sickly to feel an almost over-crushing scorching sensation turning fingers, or knuckles an angry red. When I'd been subtly suppressing an unholy sense of will, to unleash infernos. The masked observer who'd more or, less remained tight lipped as expected and concealed all thoughts pertaining to our encounter. I didn't know if it'd been satisfied, or ignoring me in favor of expectations I'd be enduring to complete a certain bargain.

Despite being firmly gripped by an arm as a cloak flapped silently, I'd managed to keep my goggles secured to see through dusty gusts. Esdainn seemingly possessed an unbelievable dexterity, strength and speeds not even I'd be able to channel with psychic might! It'd simply been impossible and utterly mad to attempt it. No signs of heavy strained breathing, or light gasps whenever we'd descended rapidly to be cushioned by granite, or metallic rooftops vacant of humane life. I'd been scanning to peer through the warp to see literally a desolate urbanized area! Throne alone I knew angrily it should have been teeming with hundreds of thousands, or millions of souls.

Everyone's been taken to where that daemon is residing, haven't they Esdainn? I asked knowingly to glance over merely exhausted to see a blank silver mask tilt itself accordingly. Yes, do not concern yourself of those destined by fate to perish. It is no concern, for you mon'keigh to worry over lesser brutes of your ilk. It'd spoken consistently in clearest of high-gothic with my own voice, but it'd been altered unnaturally to have my mind rationalize it's own existence. Esdainn seemingly cared little, or simply felt casual enough to dismiss sympathy.

Innocents mean nothing, or very little to you? I inquired mainly to clarify lingering interest to have it almost sounded amused, if only just humoring said question. Billions of your ilk, innocent or wicked are fickle existences mon'keigh child. Your blindness as brutes prevails your stains to endure, if only through sheer crudeness as you'd be aware. I resisted partially to verbally retort a near vexed statement granting it's unbidden smile, "Yet those billions who needlessly fall to Chaos, if one seeking retribution will waste more lives when power alone could've altered their fates...you think would occur, Esdainn."

My established beneficiary seemingly smile again to tauntingly point out an ever disdainful truth I'd recognize. Fate is absolute, mon'keigh child but destiny is far more lenient if those woefully blind refuse to see, if so a joke to your inept beliefs. Unlike previously I'd never heard it talk so casually yet mystically entrancing when I'd almost closed both eyes tranquilly. Yet I managed barely to mutter over constant gusts of loud wind, "Destiny and fate are two different things entirely, Esdainn. Innocents who have no power are simply collateral, so why even bother attaining power when billions perish over those who'd deserve to die...live?"

We cleared over several buildings as my coat flapped forcefully silent when noticing corpses littering a street. It'd appeared those who I'd eventually return had passed this way, if only partially and were indeed alive. I'll fight alongside you all, soon. I promised to feel burning fire churning within an arm as I exhaled steam due to sheer internal temperatures ascending beyond humane limits. Yet I felt more powerful, at ease and utterly focused then I'd ever been so far underneath Tartarus's will. It definitively changed plenty when Esdainn spoke again humorously musing.

Spoken like many of your crass ilk, mon'keigh child, but you bare one trait which is commendably enough to humor. The masked individual seemingly adjusted to fleeting skim buildings, if only barely pushing off anything capable to withstand our momentum. I smirked grimly to ask verbally again forgoing psychic means, "And what trait is that? Madness, arrogance or idiocy?" It'd been partial joking, or whimsical guesses based on what Esdainn had been stating consistently. But I got an unexpected interest mainly from sheer bewilderment when it'd absently corrected.

Technically I understood a lie when it'd mentioned two different traits. Perception, or genuine understanding. My confusion wasn't entirely unmentioned when it'd explained mainly amused to pass moments since we'd journeyed mostly in mutual silence. You knowingly deceive many by your foolish emotions, naive understandings to dig into minds and clearly your crass actions falsely inspire many to meet that deception. Yet admirably enough it is your perception of seeing larger forces at work...is rather adequate, if only for a brutish mon'keigh.

My mind immediately stilled to coldly whisper agreement as memories drifted forward chillingly of a time when I'd not recall. Home on another hive-block, to run and hide, to do everything to see another day included doing whatever was necessary. What are you suggesting? I coldly stared to feel burning sensations arising in conjunction with unbidden desire, more so I refused to look back on days and nights where getting a meal to survive included nothing save for success. Yet Esdainn's tone slyly turned sinister to be intrigued immediately.

Your facade is extremely obvious to point out, I recognize deception and useful need for it! As you are among many, it sets you apart from your fickle, fleeting and brutish ilk...a child you maybe even among such short lived stains teeming abundantly, in ignorance and blind to everything. It picked apart memories it'd all too had absorbed during our links and I regretted partially to not warn to stay out. Apparently it'd been digging further since acquiring aid which lamentably wished to be unleashed, I'd stalled it through prayer and prayer to pacify lust for conflict alone.

Esdainn's silver mask intentionally had turned to reveal my own reflection with a cruel leering expression. Even now, I taste your hatred and rage but it stems not from I, or even...children of Chaos. Fingers loosened to comfortingly pressures indicating genuinely agreement, or possibly of mutual belief. Yet my stare hardened to stare without caring for heights, or anything remotely capable to distract colder emotions cycling forth. An entire city became visibly exposed for an entire width as silent buildings reigned ominously.

Mon'keigh are your reminders, of your immense hate and familiar kin's anger for taking...what you loved most. Torn violently to watch those you'd trust kill, betrayed strongly by those of blood and ultimately succeeding in sowing a savage deceit, if only just to mask your grief. Your soul wordlessly cries out, it is unable to let go because you're rightful retribution against your own kin is truth. All from a young girl who... I swiftly cut off to channel psychic will into glowering eyes which burned intensely as wisps of steam indicated rage, "Shut your mouth, Esdainn. Don't say her name, or by the throne I'll unleash what I have subdued. I've only stopped remembering because I found another reason worth something again."

That damned mask shifted into another expression of a leering expression matching my own when receiving an inflamed sword. It'd been craving underneath flesh, blood and will an mistakable urge to spill blood righteously desired. Unbinding muscles allowed fingers slightly curl to ooze off steam from flesh screaming in muted agony, I'd dampened everything to feel nothing save for trickle warmth and it'd proven far too suitable to ignore further. Yet Esdainn hardly seemed fazed, or concerned save for trembling in unmistakable mirth.

Yet another trait reveals itself when I'd been expecting a hypocritical denial of your kin's blood, mon'keigh child. We seemingly cleared almost two buildings worth of distance as momentum increased yet my heart slowed to withhold natural instinct. An instinct to go for a third rib which I smiled placidly in saying, "Every gangster will always know where and what to do the another guy's third rib, Esdainn. Playing an idiot is what keeps me sane, I never tried to hide it and I doubt I'd change when I have my reasons to do good."

Esdainn's mask changed to a sinister grotesque monstrosity with a tongue seemingly waving in place. It'd utilized Sabathiel's expression speaking through an accurate copy, if not outright more sinister tone of sheer delight. Yet that hatred is just another of your kind bringing forth what you desperately hide, mon'keigh child. You fool many, many who are ignorant to see other signs and yet you naturally crave their attention...to have them rely on you, if only in name! Forever to know they'd never survive, by your ability to hold lives freely.

As much as I wanted to shout, scream and venomously deny a xeno's word. I'd only coldly smiled still to embrace one aspect of my life recently thought to be passive, "Better to care for others, or see a shank on your neck from the mirror's view." Another image appeared seemingly to take an appearance of Anora's face who looked fondly even if it'd been a lie, I clenched both fists when fire being appearing on skin igniting as if doused in oil. Esdainn hadn't been irritated, or aggravated when I'd forced it into a corner to assist me out of sheer coincidence! I sneered realizing just a little too late, it'd been laughing because it'd known I would suffer willingly.

Your attempts are very commendable, Marcos. It now wickedly spoken in Anora's voice musically warm and deceptively innocent to sound proud. You have never shown unwavering truth, to fight for nothing asked and yet, I cannot help be afraid...no child, I have seen what has withstood so much, to be no man either. I gritted teeth tightly to feel them straining when Esdainn glowered once to make another face appear coldly approving. Tartarus's voice and expression seemingly found itself gauging myself all too appropriately.

Hatred of humanity is acceptable for they are fickle and easily fallen to Chaos, boy. It'd revealed another lesson I harbored secretly concerned, fearful and envious when I'd resisted strongly. Of course I'd quietly accepted an already known fact, experienced it and hardly seemed to garner will to try to defend it underneath my teacher's lessons. Your attempts to deny it, equally loathsome and yet earnest naturally to be suitable for one who hunts our enemies. Use that talent well, for few dare to hone it as you'd done...if only consumed by pain to inflict it on others.

Steam wafted insistently off an arm which glowered orange doused by raw rage and dwindling control of usage. What can I say? I'm just surviving like every human, Esdainn. Our speed increased to angle in between buildings lightly yet powerfully being carried by wind, or momentum alone. We were close to it's destination where a stone of immense power resided, if only to further seal my fate to die one way or another.

Truth is your weapon against humanity, to mask your intent with genuine will for fools and none question it for they are mon'keigh. Esdainn's tone returned to my own after Tartarus's had faded to seemingly approve of my truest depths. We began descending onto an overview where a hauntingly familiar cathedral loomed, ivory towers cascading in once golden feats of beauty and faith had rusted into an ugly blackened corruption. It was here I'd be reunited with those I'd actively wished to return among again, if anything Esdainn's timing was impeccably chosen well. My gaze looked coldly to see it bow mockingly pleased.

We both reached a lower building were an entire grass field of destroyed statues, monuments and grave stones were completely defiled. Peering further I witnessed ugly blackened, red and purple signatures numbering possibly close to several hundred, or so corrupted heretics of mankind. How very kindly considerate of you, Esdainn! Maybe you have a reason to tell me, why not go yourself? It's familiar weight of grip loosened to deceptively pat my shoulder akin to a grox who'd learned tricks not expected from an owner.

Arcane barriers specifically to hinder my presence, always has it been expected mon'keigh child. It seemingly smiled bemused to affectionately pleased to stroke my back increasing ire and irksome sensations of pleasantry. They're numerous, bothersome and shall alert 'She Who Thrists' greatest entertainer to closely react to what it'd has come to devour...as you're aware, right? Staring vividly were glowering cracks akin to insect webs aligned most of the grounds, to ooze blackened mist which routinely faded and returned potently. I laughed harshly realizing it'd not expected someone who'd never been viewed to a surprise visit, so it'd react entirely without doubt.

Clever xeno, aren't you? My eyes burned clearly wishing I'd incinerated it inside that damned tunnel which was an orchestrated trap conveniently timed. Fingers lightly rubbed inflamed flesh which began shimmering cloth from sheer steam alone. You mon'keigh are non-existent in these eyes as you perceive to yourself, child. But you are a fascinating anomaly one cannot help, if only just to savor potentially useful. Go be useful, or prove to yourself wrong to fail...if your pride cannot be bent for innocence.

My mind in vain twisted will cycled between emotional sensations deeming them relevant enough to mask, or simply allow free reign. Flames gradually expanded upward, to trail along veins as blood boiled literally to have me close both eyes exhaling steam. And where will you be, Esdainn? Once fate aligns to have myself and daemon set our stage, I trust you'll be observing destined events to suit your needs purposefully?

Ironically amusement filtered when hands idly kept tracing affectionate gestures to make me shiver in twisted enjoyment. One hand ceased to lazily point all around us and seemingly kept me rooted in place to shiver continuously. You're learning too well, mon'keigh child. I shall be watching, as one of my standing and you will be the little monster you so desired to become! For your desires shall burn within until they burn no more, or perhaps they'll burn everything until you finally crave the truth you've denied...willingly.

My expression turned surreal to calmly take a moment to chortle ironically amused as well. I shook my head to only look over knowingly, "Remember your word, Esdainn. I've kept mine, so will you do so?" That silver mask fondly tilted itself to only make a finger gesture of an overt smile of pleasantry, it'd keep it's word and I'd not live to regret it entirely. There was nothing more to be said, or expected to be given as it'd played games far too keenly to reveal anything less. Apart of myself found it ideally suitable since I wasn't one for games, if I weren't in control and yet I had instinctual suspicion Esdainn thrived within it naturally.

Clever child, aren't you? The compliment equally mocking and pleased faded when I looked back to see Esdainn's form shimmering. That silver mask reflected my face calm yet cold smile when words musically encouraged me to do what I'd hidden fairly well. Now go, little monster. Don't disappoint me, I shall attend to your stage! For it's what I've been longing to witness, or if only just to humor your desires...human.


Esdainn's gentle laughter faded into shrouded echoes as wind gusts swept past leaving me alone entirely. I scoffed less than happily to stare placidly onto an arm which burned internally, "Fecking xenos, fecking chaos and feck me for thinking I'd hate them." Raising upward to conceal my entire head with a hood and exhaled deeply expelling steam which held traces of embers. Time was against me yet again, I loved one thing despite wishing I'd had incinerated Esdainn as flames ignited illuminating darkness to see eyes settling on below.

My senses show forward coming into contact with more than a mere hundred souls burning in either tense anticipation, or unseen terror. They'd been aware of their intended role yet blindly believed based on emotions of over-crushing desire Chaos would save them. My entire arm burned screaming to scorch flesh internally to darken gradually when casually walking into blackened wisps, they'd churned and seemingly ignored my presence entirely not reacting or trying to impede a human which wasn't expected to cross psychic barriers. Fecking heretics, you'll save yourselves when repenting to the Emperor will garner his divine mercy, but from me? Ordos Malleus makes no distinct for daemons, or those consorting with Chaos to be damned...on sight.

Coming to stand entire exposed within a grass shield partially obscured by statures desecrated, or toppled over of the Emperor I stopped. Several corpses were tied around melded together staring horrified, or agonized as blood had darkened once white marble into crimson twisted black, "And to think I have to protect something just as disgusting. Does your love extend to those dead who'd never had a chance, my Emperor?" I questioned coldly looking back to accumulate every experience into a burning vengeance which twisted itself into hatred, I smiled widely while raising an arm and wrenching forward summoning enough psychic might to slam into corrupted earth!

No answer came making my eyes widen with unrestrained rage, "Where were you when I needed you most!" I bellowed as orange and yellow flames exploded akin to an artillery shell penetrating Chaos's hold quaking an entire field violently. Walls of uncountable surges of heat, scorched and deliberately screeched extending every where descending to smash across everything within visual proximity. Stone, blood and foul corruption wailed in unseen boiling strain to dissipate into dust, ash and rightful non-existent will fading abruptly.

Not once I never strayed to pierce a cleansed stature wreathed in hateful flames purifying wicked reminders. The Emperor's face on that statue hardly seemed to be affected yet I smiled beautifully pleased, "Fine, I'll do what you command! Destroy corruption and maybe one day...you'll speak to me!" One arm broiled internally to walk past with uncontrollable steam to make it as if air burned away. Hundreds of signatures brightened moving rapidly towards windows, doors and I kept moving forward unperturbed to smile slyly, "I see you all. Thanks for making my job easier, I'll do you all a favor and just make it painfully quick."

Pulling back two fingers to mimic Esdainn's own digits to form a crude triangle as fiery steel sweltering temperatures of tendrils shot forward screeching. Three slammed without preamble into windows as orange light formulated eerie and an ear shattering crash of granite exploding outward met my effort. Thirty six heretics cleansed, to be judged and still that daemon knows now someone is claiming what it desires to consume. Absently aware to see slightly wisps of blackened corruption rapidly fleeing, or creating a slight variation above meant time urgently needed to be used. But I walked forward sternly sweeping another arm to see flames rushing past to consume an entire entrance just as double barred doors smashed open.

Auto-guns leveled just barely as flames consumed dozens of men and women who let out soul shattering shrieks. They'd flung themselves wildly and desperately to roll when flames unable to quenched even by natural tendency kept digging inward. Ash began flickering from flesh, blood boiled in veins and throats broke themselves when I stepped over several writhing figures. I flicked a wrist ending another ten which gagged and fell over a balcony announcing my arrival to see a once holy place meant of worship uplift an illusion. Corpses tumbled onto stakes, or crudely misshaped heaps where thousands of once loyal inhabitants had been made examples given their eyes, tongues and cheeks all been madly gouged out.

An entire inner cathedral had been transformed into a twisted alter with one massive eight pointed star looming where the aquilla belonged. Yet I focused pleasantly with flames reascending to meld into my back, as a hundred signatures braced themselves. Every las-weapon, auto-gun and numerous other tossed aside weapons opened fire immediately. How kind of you all, it's a shame someone gave me inspiration to make this far too easy! Both hands angled to formulate two crude triangles as an overt-bright wall of stationary flames nimbly stopped projectiles, it'd made a symphonic hissing and crackling taking hits naturally.

Every heretic's weapon either found itself spent, or las-charges fizzled out sharply. The barrier of flame churned internally seeking what I'd craved, "Let me show you some real fecking firepower!" I called out merrily when a hundred humans all recoiled horrified as a barrier encompassed an entire cathedrals interior, it's grown angrily and seething with heat setting anything flambe! Or more keenly if it'd hadn't, been turned into glowering white infused matter with my will alone. It bent, twisted and soon ideally went from wall to wall and I flicked both wrists when terror arose exceptionally.

Like lightning, or a tidal wave crashing forth it moved at speeds no man, or woman would never conceive thanks to raw anger alone. Nothing was spared, not one person, object or possible doubt when hundreds of voices cried out in soul defying shrieking. Momentum alone sent every unnatural flaming ember crashing and penetrating a far wall which buckled from sheer heat, force and unholy will meant to protect those foully believing in it woefully. Half of a cathedral caved thunderously sending rock, pillars and those fortunate hiding above into crushed absolution to have sins forgiven, or possibly judged by one who I'd uphold.

Hundreds now uncomprehendingly ran around desperately rolling, or crying out to douse flames which ate away everything. I walked past one corpse of a lone Imperial guardsmen who'd died fighting loyally stout with no fear on his face, defiantly based on corpses surrounding him of innocents believing he'd save them and as a result had been dismembered into raw chucks. Reaching down I found a bayonet and mono-knife stained in heretical blood, I'd do their owner far more in the Emperor's name and I prayed quietly, "Rest easy guardsmen, your fight is not finished yet. May the Emperor grant you no rest to return among us, or find your peace because you didn't die in vain...I thank you for these tools, who'll do you justice!"

Two blades glowered in searing whitened coloration as psychic flames infused as I moved past dead corpses which cared not of living souls. Blessed is the holy who smite the heretic, daemon and those turned from your light, oh Emperor. Blessed are the faithful, make metal your instrument as I enact the light in which upheld in your name! White yellow light emitted from two blades as I whirled around slicing a burning heretic's throat into one quick stroke. The man half alive man fell onto knees as I angled to end him far too mercifully.

Another tried in blind rage and pain to swing a las-gun like it'd been a club of molten metal. I only paused to have two torrents of flames from smoldering corpses send him flying backward burning to ash, "Stay down, please." Streams of smaller yet denser flames came striking anything within distance to have ash of gray flesh ascending, if only to make small grayed out layers when returned by gravity's innocent purpose. Looking above where several more dozen signatures were cowering far too obviously, I just reached outward and ceasing their hearts to have them stumble around towards railings decorated in intestines.

Dozens met their deaths before smashing head first into solid floor yet I sent flames to scorch them entirely. Still without changing course to walk through an entire cathedral I spotted two shifting half burnt men, or maybe women given their moans were hardly different at this point. Both blades level from lessons among soldiers who'd rightfully hated my existence, I adored them in all honesty and I'd never willing throw away what had been decreed. Sigur never hides behind anything, I like him! Because he's the only one among you storm-troopers whose got the fecking gut feeling, I'm far too kind to not think otherwise.

Running lightly I plunged both blades to bleed out a man from where the third rib gushed out freely. And spinning I didn't even have to witness a bayonet swiftly impale another through underneath his jawline. I left one in place knowing a mono-knife proved far more effective, yet I kicked viciously sending him toppling back over while gagging on sputtering crimson as a willed stream of fire incinerated his foul existence. Esdainn...you weren't wrong entirely, but you failed to see I only care to be human because I can never change what I am. Not with something worth playing the fool, you know this and that's why I'll always have the mask in place.

Bypassing long benches meant for faithful to kneel, prayer and confess their sins I came across one interesting signature barely alive. Pausing immediately did thoughts align as it'd clutched some sort of tome infused by holy sanctioned protections I'd recognize anywhere. The Ecclesiarchy? Peering from peripherals did a half alive man it'd seem squealed kicking back embers of weakened wood, I kept staring ominously in knowing my eyes were brightly glowering eerily pleased. Well, well, well...I guess the Emperor has answered me after all, it seems!

Walking in between benches which caved inward from flames scorching every exposed inch and created waves of fizzling embers. I witnessed once pristine robes, or maybe holy blessed clothe struggling to safeguard a corrupted heretic. They were of an undeniable higher society probably worth thousands in terms of blood, or lives who'd never dream to have a mere fledgling hint of wealth. Yet I loomed overhead when an eight pointed star burned faintly on his forehead, "What's a member of the divine ecclesiarchy doing among such heresy, if I may ask?" I inquired lowly bemused to see his half seared eyelids struggle to remain wide, or feared to pass into oblivion's closest embrace which ideally seemed suitable.

Deformed teeth wheezed to bare meaninglessly as eyes turned blackened blood shot hissing in a twisted high gothic, "You...cannot stop...the Gods! They...walk among us!" My expression serenely smiled when I passively dove past meager mental defenses that buckled, shattered and soon enough I psychically projected hidden glee. Oh really? Is that your true motive esteemed servant of the ecclesiarchy? Is your faith in the Emperor so easily broken, swayed and usurped because you had your disgusting ways with various children, women to rape, murder and enviously lusted after when you'd willingly fell?

Those blackened eyes once inspired faithful will, resolve and once was of a man who'd desperately struggled to do good. My smile widened impeccably to hungrily dig deeper, "And you were sent by another whose deliberate choosing has caused you to fall...as predicted, servant of the ecclesiarchy! Which is strangely interestingly enough." The tome in said twisted hands tightened impeccably through past actions, or will but had been usurped to be deliberately upon immediately once psychic barriers were tripped for another entity assumed to reclaim it.

Speak the truth, heretic or forever be damned to never be absolved when judged by me, or the Emperor whose will I uphold. I commanded coldly pleased to see his eyes narrow to shriek defiantly as a star of Chaos burned brightly in response, "...never...relic...I..." The man rasped brokenly struggling to do what little act of defiance within, it'd been a sad sight as a reminder why I refused to heed daemons who promised everything and gave absolutely nothing in return. Will unholy withered and conciseness struggled for supremacy within this twisted turmoil of a consciousness, yet I'd been mercifully allowing him one final act of goodness to rightfully meet his fate as any humane man willed.

Those blackened eyes faded momentarily to see a broken gaze beg for release, "...stop that creature...or billions will fall..." Blackened fingers where faint traces of white as flesh flaked off allowed a thickened tome chained and blessed to lightly fall, "...for the Emperor!" I allowed myself to warmly agree as flames gathered behind hungrily seeking more to incinerate to ash, "Then I of Ordos Malleus deem you redeemed for resisting corruption, go to his side and tell him there are those who hate being ignored."

Light consumed a fleeting smile of peaceful acceptance as a corpse turned to bust dispelling and destroyed livid wisps of blackened tendrils fading away. A tome fell to my feet chains unlocking when coming to lightly coming into contact. I smiled to make an aquilla murmuring a prayer of holy placation knowing it'd appease what purpose it'd served iron-clad to endure. Kneeling down I tenderly flipped pages of high-gothic methodically recording history, tenants and undeniable secrecy when a thickened portion revealed itself.

Green light shined brightly at first before I froze in sheer disbelief as one of two place holders for stones greeted myself. Two? But why have I just been seeing one...what is happening here? Reaching forward I plucked one warm glowing stone as a faint pull tried weakly to resist intrusion. Yet I tenderly cupped it close both eyes to speak psychically forgoing instinctual desire to usurp it. Esdainn sent me to find you, or another...I mean no harm to you, or seek to claim what is not mine. I'm here for vengeful retribution against a daemon wearing a mask of one you'd call...'She Who Thirsts'.

Whatever entity residing inside such powerful warp energy froze momentarily before heat trickling in between flesh and polished glass. Truth, you! I smiled fondly to get up walking towards a shattered cathedrals front to see more signatures, it'd seem who I'd sought for aid was being taken over whatever was within this one. Don't be so surprised, humans like myself lie all the time! I just don't hide it, so don't feel amazed when you're lying to me...Xeno.

This stones light shimmered brighter demanding psychic entry as I kept it deliberately in vain trying to stall attempts. Unlike other sensations it'd genuinely panicked sensing my internal desire to either destroy it, or possibly keep itself deafened. Enough, I'm in no mood to meld with another whose going to bring out something I'd regret wishing stayed dead. If you wish, I'll grant you why I'm doing this because it's my only chance to...live, if I dare hope. Esdainn knows I will die fighting this daemon, it knows because it's been planning ever since I began dreaming and I have a hunch it'll watch me burn to dust for invoking something within me.

Heat from an arm infused with power made an interior light brightly flash in warning, or rather disbelief possibly. The flames began creeping to boil glass before I lightly tossed it into a far more humane limb smirking, "Careful about fire if it burns, if you can't take the fecking heat like I can." I pocked this stone in a chest pouch where none would dare to search, or even imagined since it'd been hidden underneath my lower shoulder. I had my way out to cheat death, or maybe stall it long enough to enjoy something worth seeking out one day.

Walking rapidly to make up for lost time I heard rumbling of engines as my gaze narrowed to see hulking vehicles desperately staring. Ah, I should have realized they'd haul fecking ass to get away from a xeno psyker...but not a human! I sharply raised both hands conjuring enough of the psychic might to make an entire street within the warp boil and squirm harshly, "Sorry, road's closed by the inquisition's order!" Two entire buildings imploded on opposite ends as light flashed surging upward melting, smoldering and momentum sent it crashing onto dozens of heretics who wailed out in natural fear.

Stone thundered to quake even where I'd stand when both arms lowered to meld flames as heat scorched steps underneath descending feet. Signatures faintly struggled to up-heave themselves from debris crushing legs, or outright splattered skulls unable to react accordingly. Mounds of twisted burning metal, glassed bright stone and sheer smoldering embers naturally set fire to flesh as screeching returning earnest of Chaos corrupted guardsmen. They'd never be redeemed as some wildly flung around into gradual disintegration forming ash clouds being blown by ruthless gusts of wind, an irony that the planet despised them in surreal fashion.

One man lunged vividly screaming praises expecting an auto-pistol snapping to kill me, "For the Prince! For Chaos's eternal reign!" Flames merely absorbed metal into deadly sizzling puddles effortlessly falling as gravity's defiance harmed dry stone, it'd smoldered briefly and left indentations as I smiled kindly. His gaze went from crazed zealot to horrified human far too quickly as I approached flickering another life into damnation's torment, fire stuck him from above and beneath beautifully scorching flesh into harmless dust. Fifteen remain, such a low number considering they're carrying something worth billions of our lives...apparently!

Peering through metallic armor plating as another heretic which seemed to be a woman tried in vain to hoist some sort of heavy-stubber into position. It'd been dented by fall granite and metallic beams as I called out rather mildly annoyed, "Stop trying." An inferno came screeching from literally out of thin air to pelt her frying flesh and body smashing into another pile of stone, I'd barely caught pleas begging to be saved from daemonic entities who'd likely laughed wickedly entertained. Pointless waste of everything when spotting a small group huddling within an armored truck, they'd been carrying weaponry and desperate to try throwing aside doors to unleash a hail of unholy munition all too predictably.

Curling three fingers into another crude triangular gesture flames exploded underneath sending an entire truck aside. It rolled violently, effortlessly and started flinging loosening metallic plating with wheels seared off as fire ignored tons of sheer weight to have implode not even an arm's length away from my stationary position. Not in there either, so two left to complete your game Esdainn! Spitting partially irritated I swept another truck where two more vehicles buried, or trapped tried in vain to reverse out of an agonized demise. Such a shame I cared little, if only to send two tremendous spiraling tendrils of warped flame to melt rubber into granite.

Nine signatures of humane souls twisted, corrupted and utterly repulsive staggered out loosely. One was clutching an almost urgent series of tendrils blackened in purple, or enraged red indicating where absolutely my last objective lay secured. How very kind of you all to hand it over, I'd say you're to do my work for me! Nine gazes simultaneously locked onto my own and eight went into ash when an unnatural flame sent their cries of unheard pleas seemingly faded into dusted oblivion. The strong wind concealed their fates, so it'd been rather coincidentally suitable to enjoy it honestly.

The last heretic fell backwards into rubble while clutching a small wooden box nearly in some catatonic state. His rasped voice shriek equally enraged and terrified when I got closer eyes ablaze with an enteral hatred manifesting, "What are you!" I tilted my head partially feeling a sense of an illusion where Esdainn had trapped myself far too methodical to gauge a tool's worth, "Someone incredibly fecking pissed off, heretic. And someone whose going to get what's inside that box willingly, or from an ash pile."

His mind fractured again equally from not expecting an answer, or perhaps a child who'd loomed between fire and smelted metallic vehicles. Go ahead pick up your pistol, or knife or even call out to those daemonic feckers who so easily...seduced your small brain. I psychically linked to have every function freeze, coldly and utterly natural to see lips quivering with blackened eyes struggling to even conceive it'd been done with but my will. Flames trailed behind akin to snakes, or lumbering grox lead to their slaughter molded behind into a mere thin strips, they had dipped downward to match my over-coat naturally pleased.

They coyly slid underneath an arm formulating into one an unfathomable source extending and molding into gripping fingers. A blade became soundly solid as distant booming laughter exceptionally entertained greeted my irritation. Blood of earth, soil is scorched and flesh is but ash, I am pleased and eager to sustain desire's will of thy ilk! Esdainn's seeming willing gift wasn't remotely meant to have myself survive, I'd felt my own flesh smoldering and turning harder briefly to notice bright red yellowish lines appearing with said blade. It'd deceived me for every moment, if only just to be suitably capable to do what it'd planned for Emperor knows how long.

Shut your mouth, I don't need to waste effort on ignoring it. I allowed a blade to extend with booming laughter not entirely offended, or angered save for gleeful patience to reign freely again. It'd been building steadily to boil away humane blood, will and flesh into whatever it'd inevitably make my death suitable for a duel it'd craved. My will become steel to push it deeper away laughing still as I looked up partially annoyed to see that heretic scrambling up a slope. Peering with psychic will alone I noticed an array of forty three signatures stained in bright red, cold gray and my smile returned to fade said blade away once more.

All according to Esdainn and I's destiny, ironic I wished I could pretend to enjoy something for once in my life. The heretical man looked back vividly not recognizing danger of another sort creeping opposite of rubble as I put both hands into pockets knowingly. Anora's signature was on point where likely my fond servo-skull who I'd named after someone I'd loved, hated and respected appear at first with an eye bright glowing. He'd been processing routes rather acutely, if anything I gave his machine spirit faithful dedication and I'd never say willingly to be happier to see Skit's frame. I still mentally counted down when heretic and Sororita met face to face.

When corrupted eyes sporting an orange burning star of Chaos met Anora's cyan eyesight there was no hesitation. Lasguns, bolters and everything blessed torn the heretic into a reddish paste flinging the box to smash, roll and inevitably land in smoldering pits of fire. Ignoring a body rolling past I knelt down nimbly brushing aside burning planks of corrupted wood, I waved off tendrils which faded hissing back to their source and my smile brightly met an angered green again. And now the puzzle comes together Esdainn, you wanted a monster to do your dirty work! So let's see whose got real fecking balls to stand closer to the heat, don't disappoint me...Xeno.


Moments later in sensing movement, I called out laughing brightly to garner Skit's voice modulator immediately recognized myself unexpectedly, "Verified acting-inquisitor Marcos Eius! Life-signs stable, humane purity and shows no negative signs of corruption as per machine spirit auspects." Brushing several more idle charred planks aside to see once barriers restraining an unholy entity dared to lash outwards my psychic link when it'd been established. Flipping it several times I saw lights, swirls and internal storm which harbored unrestrained thirst of vengeful power.

"You miss me that much, Skit?" I questioned chuckling far too happily to not feel relief as various humans expertly scaled rubble pointing weaponry where I'd knelt easily. Ignoring them all in favor to hear another voice powerfully seethe undeniably outraged. You dare seek power of the Lords of Phoenix's, inferior blood! My gaze hardly seemed fazed save for a cruel smirk to convey what I'd desire most to have its will cease momentarily. I seek you, Shadow Specter Lord of Phoenix's to aid I, to dance and duel 'She Who Thirsts' greatest entertainer at behest of Esdainn...for I desire retribution of flame and blood, to tempt of I!

It's psychically pacified answer held true to which it'd required truth and genuine will of which I provided unafraid. Thou ist of inferior blood, of ilk is true and just...mon'keigh warrior. Flame of Khaine is welcomed, if not soiled but tainted of inferior flame yet is true to desire's most of duel till 'She Who Thirsts' threatens kin of same blood, worthy you are to be aided. I clenched my fist partially exposing blood to forever link myself to what had to be needed, if only to endure death and survive when it'd been impossible to avoid. The entity within responded by absorbing said crimson liquid happily and content to know I'd not deceive itself.

"Auspects verify no mutation, or corruption as per protocol of inquisitorial parameters, Sororita Anora." Skit's voice reaffirmed an unseen question when I perked up to wave kindly towards Kriegers who'd still kept weapons trained viciously, "Thanks Skit you're too kind, I missed you too!" Shaking my head I got up idly taking account of men who were struggling to keep their lasguns steady, or had urges to lower themselves to pray to the Emperor for delivering salvation of their intended purpose, I'd been all envious to keep silent save for smirking. The entity within a glowing stone seemingly melded into a hand already with another who'd accepted it naturally.

Are you prepared to battle to aid myself, Phoenix Lord of Shadow Specters? To adhere to my will and safe guard those I care about selfishly? I inquired psychically to hear a smoother yet earnest reply when heat coursed through veins bordering incineration. Your desires have been heeded, mon'keigh warrior child. Till death, or dust so shall become of 'She Who Thrists' greatest entertainer, of inferior blood flows will I decree a duel of your just vengeance. Let it be so, or does truth hinder your flames by Khaine's decree!

Everything locked into place setting the stage on whether if Esdainn's manipulations, or my will to live to cheat death would struggle against each other ultimately. I definitively would have to learn playing games where it was all, or nothing meant absolutely everything compared to what I'd known back home on those streets. Blood was key, will was secondary and above all else power was irrelevant underneath luck. The Emperor's blessing never had failed to withstand anything I'd encountered, so I had faith and reason along to muster will to succeed against an impossible daemon who'd end my entirety. At least I had a fighting chance to bring it down to my level, or else died knowing it'd fail utterly.

Inevitably Skit's scans game voice to hesitant uncertainty, "Marcos?" I heard Alicia spoke to proclaim trying to make sense struggling when I looked up finally cheerfully, "Sister Alicia! Praise our Emperor for seeing you and everyone...I'd thought the worst had happened when I got away." Her signature fluctuated between a sorrowful blue, or an almost blend of yellow joy to lower her bolter partially aside struggling to find deceit when it'd been plainly averted. Yet another voice lowly seemed to far more aware to ask shrewdly.

"Kid, ya got guts and balls! Emperor's got ya covered, so how the feck you here?" The storm-trooper easily kept my mind partially alert when his las-gun had been lowered utterly. I coyly shrugged to seemingly retort, "Kicked it in it's balls hard enough, said some words and I think it'd hated me when I got to shank it once, or twice." Sigur struggled to keep upright laughing loudly by clutching his gut as I merely stood up partially kicking aside charred embers. Among most he'd been fairly competent, if only his lack of interest were far more...sharper to spot my efforts.

Pulling up goggles while unveiling sweating flesh I inhaled deeply feeling cooler and far more relaxed when smiling tiredly. Hello, Anora! Sorry, I should have listened...I got cocky. Psychically linking into said Sororita's mind hardly seemed unnaturally different yet her thoughts were plainly steeled. Her armor's internal mechanisms squealed when descending bolter still drawn at my skull, aimed and I hardly flinched when kindly speaking exhausted, "Fairly certain the Emperor is punishing me, I think I failed in my task to stand against..."

The Sororita lunged having my eyes wide as an arm swiftly crushed two which rigidly tried to stop it. Yet her entire armor concealed myself as a bellowing shriek of undeniable relief, anger and sheer indignation made every brain cell throb. You are blasted foolish, stupidly naive, wretched and damned recklessness in being ridiculous boy! A helmet came closer than I'd expected signifying snarling which struggled to be held as I found myself physically suffocating. Damn you, Marcos! Damn you for returning to us by the Holy Father's will...why didn't you stop, why didn't you just wait and think for once in your damned life.

I chuckled lightly joking to simply state an obvious truth, "Emperor has his ways, I have mine and praying certainly helped." Anora sharply hissed through a helm's modulator to sound furiously tempted to crush my skull into pieces, "Not! Another! Word!" I laughed cheekily to stiffly shrug not willing to keep promises I'd not humor to leave in place, "No promises! But I think found something even Tartarus would probably find strange, if I guessed."

Grudgingly forcing herself down when I held out a glowing green stone which seemingly pulsed and flickered. Her head leaned back as Sigur, Alicia and Skit ventured closer getting an open view of what had been recovered. I gestured somewhat behind an inferno of a cathedral burning itself to dust, or smoldering ruins informing them idly mystified, "Found this locked inside an ecclesiarchy's tome, I'd bet they were spreading heresy inside the city since I found and judged a member of their order. He did some fecked up things, so I did the Emperor's will to send him off, but this is something I've never seen, or have any of you?"

The lone storm trooper lazily pulled down a pair of green optical lenses leisurely lighting up a lho-stick to gruffly admit, "Feck if I know, kid! It's green and glows, so it's weird." I grinned to comment rather fondly assured, "You're weird technically! Since you seem happier to see me, so I say the stone's just normal by the Emperor's graces." Sigur cackled to ruffle my head far too roughly to not deny, or confirm such a suspicion because he leered, "Old Sigur don't give a feck, kid. You got balls, guts and the devil's luck...so I'm smoking to feel better, but you're head's in place unless lady-inquisitor proves me wrong."

Alicia shook her head slowly trying to make sense of madness apparently to mention, "Marcos and Sigur laughing together? Holy Father preserve us, sister!" Anora warily agreed standing up to keep a gauntlet secured onto my shoulder firmly, "Perhaps it is mercifully a sign, of his blessings that far more dangerous results could have been encountered. But our fate of a holy ordained mission must be completed, or Chaos's presence spreads to further damn us. Doubt, hesitation are secondary until our Holy Father's foes are vanquished."

Throughout her words I smiled warmly to lightly mention about Tartarus's location, or rather where said daemon possibly inhabited. Psychically speaking I informed them all gesturing to where vehicles had attempt to flee earlier, or rather blown themselves up trying too. Tartarus will sort things out like she'll always do, I'm not happy being dragged off and getting thrashed around by a damned Xeno! Fecking thing wasn't pulling punches, but these heretics were trying to run further beyond into the city's center. I'll have Skit verify if that's where the vox coordinates have been sent from, if so I fear a trap and daemons don't fight fair to make our circumstances easier.

Engel's masked form came behind coldly vowing, "No foe, or daemon will stand if they dare show themselves, acolyte." I gave an eerie smirk invoking the Krieger's creed which was all too approvingly kind enough, "In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement." Every Krieger's mask turned partially unable to resist making aquilla gestures zealously reaffirmed they'd die meaningfully, I'd do as promised and they'd be eternally pleased to erase their sins. I owed them that much by the Emperor's will alone.

Why can't you change yourself after what has happened to you for once, Marcos? Anora questioned painfully to have me shrug laughing raising both hands innocently confused, "Emperor knows, if I didn't! Plus I'd give an answer, I'm just a child so it's nothing new, right?" Alicia warmly praised to clasp her fellow Sororita partially apologetic, "Perhaps your words hold merit far more than you'd believe yourself, sister Anora. I'm certain our holy son will be humbled eventually, if the Emperor's work is to be ordained by his will alone."

Anora's helmet looked to Alicia and then to myself as I chirped cheekily, "Guilty as a heretic judged and damned! I'm at five percent." Sigur wheezed out laughing walking away slapping my shoulder as he'd done quickly going further up a cleared street. Kid...feck you! I heard his thoughts humorously wish to avoid a scene of tenderness as Anora's posture slumped slightly within said power armor. Holding up a glowing stone of greenish light I pocketed it resigned to inform them tiredly, "I'll hold onto it, maybe Tartarus will study it, or something useful! She'd know more, if she's alive and we have to find out."

Both Sororita seemingly chortled realizing I was going to aggravate an inquisitor ot of sheer coincidence to make her regret it. Admit it, laugh and tell me I'm crazy? I knowingly joked to smile innocently to put both hands back into pockets walking forward with forty Kriegers who kept an impenetrable formation of flesh and weaponry. Absently yelling fondly towards a servo-skull, "Skit! Let's hop to it, if Tartarus is alive...she's going to hate me for getting myself into trouble again. Is she nearby, or any vox transmissions being sent?"

The servo-skull maintained a familiar position just behind my ear monotonously relaying reports, "Acknowledged orders, acolyte Eius. Processing...error, anomaly detected on auspect sensory scans...please, wait one moment in processing connection." I waved it off throwing my hands up frustrated to cancel what's been obvious, "Fecking wonderful, Skit! Don't bother, it's just like every other time...so do me a favor, make a record and if it keeps happening it's definitely daemons, or Chaos being sneaky bastards."

Skit acknowledged relaying his machine spirit internally to convey, "Understood, acolyte. Shall this unit change our predetermined route for future parameter adjustments?" I slowed to slap a hand onto his optical eye dismissing denying said request, "Don't worry about it too much, Skit. They know were coming probably, so go with it and do what we do best? Slay daemons, get fecked up and maybe pretend we're all sane or, so I imagine."

Even among all Kriegers who'd silently kept their vigilance Engel looked over idly commenting somewhat amused, "You're far more happier, or livelier to die it seems." The master-sergeant's grayer signature faded into a dim white making me shrug grinning, "Death is death. Can't get around it, so better go with faith and pray it'll be quick, or else daemons will make it that much harder to find peace when they're torturing your soul, Engel. I'm not blind, I'm just aware and that's enough to say we're destined to die...someway, or another."

The Krieger stared long enough to nod simply, "We'll complete our purpose and you shall find your own, Marcos." I replied humbled to point out one fact easily trying to avert itself, "And what is your purpose to die, Engel Adalwin? If I'm to die by a daemon, I don't think you wish to die so easily. If I may ask you one thing, is what's your reason to live?" Bypassing blocks of silent side streets I peered ahead to see crude shrouded wisps circling and weaving to create one massive wall expanding upwards past looming structures towering above.

One masked soldier refused to answer verbally as I psychically read out to have him convey an almost mirthful answer. My reason to live is of a man who has sins, boy. Work on your timing a bit, and I may have to kill you. I smiled far too bemused to simply whisper respectfully humbled, "We fight and we die, that is the Krieg way, master-sergeant." Engel's face while unseen held an almost commendable grin forcing a las-gun to sweep ahead to take point, I stared fondly knowing I'd miss a man who'd been above all else genuinely a good person at heart.

You're too kind for your own good, Engel. May the Emperor grant you peace, if I pray for your soul and will alone. I promised psychically to have a Krieger who seemingly directed others to begin clearing, or sweeping streets zealously unafraid we'd entered into another world nearly. The barrier churned ahead blocking everything from physical, to psychic and other means leaving myself to only ponder one option of entering a daemon's stage. But in doing so, it'd alert everything and nothing would be shown mercy for my desire burned too deeply to cease.

Alicia and Anora kept my back guarded lividly seeking movement while Skit immediately paused to relay accurately, "Error...error detected acolyte Eius. Vox coordinates cannot be safely be determined from machine spirit internal sensory, wait...processing as interference has increased...awaiting, cannot verify!" I walked over lightly tapping the skull on it's top easing itself to hover down partially to hear myself clearly, "Then it seems we found them, Skit. Your auspects can't see through something even I can't even understand, so search for life signs and if any happen to match those missing...you let everyone know and we find our daemon."

Still peering into shrouds of blackened swirls circling and churning as though an internal storm had been formulating. It already knows of our presence, or else it'd being too quiet is enough to get my gut excited. Fecking daemon, think you're clever to tempt me blindly? I smiled channeling psychic might when all head snapped unintentionally when an ever heated temperature arose, I kept both hands still hidden when clothing began steaming due to sheer contact. I spoke brightly impressed warning those willing to feel a natural unease descending upon us, "There's a shroud of warp trying to get us into it since I don't understand why, but be prepared when I break it open...don't shoot me in my back, if I start glowing."

Unseen manifesting shadows were starting to peel from the shroud as I kept an eye on them partially amused. Jerking my head simply left, or right I verbally conveyed an all too obvious ambush, "Daemons will start appearing onto our flanks, Engel. You have any experience putting down a large amount of las-fire? Don't think I can use a knife to make it look easy, right?" I joked kindly to see an even amount of Kriegers immediately reacting without fear gripping their minds. They zealously were demanding death, I'd oblige as per my promise and vow to give them what they desired to have be peace at last.

Anora quietly spoke not detecting anything which hardly seemed surprising yet she'd revealed, "How come we cannot view, or see them?" Unable to resist temptation I brightly admitted, "Because they're daemons, Anora! Why would they want to get shot at, if only from holy ammunition blessed in the Emperor's name?" Her fellow Sororita snorted mirthfully trying realizing I'd just made it seem so natural, it'd technically be true! And I didn't seem to ignore danger save for allowing humor to reinforce doubt.

Thou kin of ilk shall falter in the presence of, 'She Who Thirsts' mon'keigh warrior child. The Phoenix King of Essdain's species seemingly sensed yet I hardly felt resentment. I'd severely hoped the Kriegers were far more than willing to give up their lives, if only to not miss a las-shot point blank. They'll do their part, they only fear life and regret living. I'm envious, if only just of their straightforward task to get myself through partially aware. Heat burned my arm viciously as I glared irritably trying to stem off another entity seeking blood, fire and everything I'd throw when daemonic wisps moved seemingly undetected through the materium's veil.

Smiling utterly thrilled I saw a humanoid shadow creeping towards an ever disciplined line of Kriegers who'd knelt down into two ranks evenly. Sixteen were in front, twelve in the rear and the rest on flanks secured when their masks aligned to breath silently. Engel stood in the direct center awaiting commands, I caught his gaze to nod kindly thanking him one last time. Die well, or die atoned Engel. I hope you find what you desire in death, for the Emperor protects.

The Krieger only reached downward to yank off a small piece of metal and lightly threw it back to a hand which naturally snatched said object. Peering downward I only saw high-gothic tags which were collected by those perishing in the Korp's unending battlefields. Remember me, my platoon and I'll consider in telling you why I live with my sins, boy. Pocketing said trinket made me chortle loudly causing both Sororita to look around alarmed. Kriegers I fondly appreciated, I'd never would forget them and I hoped to see more one day...if only to see, if any like Engel Adalwin lived among their indestructible creed.

No matter to worry anymore, I have plans to tear a new fecking hole into and I might as well begin. Tiresomely maintaining a placid smile I'd allowed myself to begin leering sinister all too naturally, "Get ready! They're not going to be happy, or very kind when I do this..." I trailed off raising a hand above to crudely mimic another triangular gesture as light ignited above us akin blinding all momentarily. I hadn't stopped peering forward leering excitedly an overt explosion of flaming tendrils shot around piercing shrouds, they buckled rapidly and those within sent shrieking onto earth writhing in shocked anger of painful fashions.

Another torrent of spiraling fire arose within an sphere above us screeching forward akin to a spear angrily thrown. It smashed gigantically as an entire barrier waned, to the warp screeching in broiling reaction as an entire illusion dissipated revealing what hellish world had been around us. Alicia whispered horrified looking upward, "By the Holy father...what madness is this evil?" Droplets began earnestly falling from the skies themselves, a bloody rain storm as stakes numbering tens of thousands were just protruding from buildings in deliberate formations. Men were first, women were below them and impaled in between were children mainly younger than myself.

The Kriegers had inevitably followed gazes to turn coldly still yet it wasn't the most vile of truths seen to their eyes. Various newborns were arranged into bloodied displays to which I smirked commenting rather knowingly amused, "Feels like home to them." I began walking forward lightly reminding everyone to not linger, "If you don't want to stay here, go forward and realize we're probably not even seeing everything these daemons have done. Tartarus is right in the center square, so we better pray to the Emperor, or risk getting staked in our backs...I can see why this is not a good thing, if I have to say."

But strangely enough shrouded forms of once daemons had fled rapidly back ahead of us. Oh, I get it! I sourly realized they'd been recalled to allow us free reign to walk into one's home, I found it disdainfully disappointing. Well those daemons who were going to attack, they're manifesting somewhere ahead of us because they're listening to something possibly more...dangerous, if I understand it. I psychically conveyed details to have an entire formation move together as not one Krieger broke rank, or seemingly psychologically came under an assault. Those daemons were being very patient for once it'd seem.

"How many?" Anora questioned breathlessly horrified to see faces of humans frozen in silent agony, or terror with eyes and tongues plucked out. I absently looked around to shrug to simply admit a truth, "Too many." Between two side streets I shook my head when signatures began rapidly assembling just out of sight, I mentally counted again when heretical humans would make their appearances to satisfy beings who thrived on stages of bloodied spectacles. They'd been summoned to counter act what I'd been trying to expect, a pity they'd fail honestly.

Buildings began shimmering gradually when blood ran down over eight pointed stars, or specifically tailored to the Dark Prince's pleasures. Huge towering swaths of blackened mist vented upward across an entire orange, red and sickly yellowed sky where wind gusts sounded closer to wails of damned people. Interesting! This city has gone to hell for a vacation! I thought bemused to have it remind of my old home, if only less bloodied and smell nicer to be honest by my Emperor's will. Least it'd have a chance to rebuild, if Tartarus's decisions didn't enact total cleansing.

Bypassing hidden symbolic mists which possibly lead to one being staked, I waved my hand burning said bloodied imprints into ash. None dared to look anywhere but in sectors of fire, or were too overwhelmed by unnatural phenomenon seemingly growing in gruesome display artistic forms. All but Sigur who'd been quietly observing everything mildly numbed, "Cap is probably dead. Didn't like him much, ah well...fecker loved thinking he was hot shit." He still smoked a lho-stick hardly caring to respect corpses as embers flicked onto motionless flesh, I hardly cared save for pointing one flaw in that assumption entirely.

"Not likely they'd kill people we know since they're aware, or probably keeping them alive so they'll kill them whenever we're closer." I mused to witness growing shrouds forming yet again to make me silently tremble to laugh. They really think I'm that blind, I see you all. Lightly clapping hands to hum lowly to cause a surreal sense of relief, if anything everyone else understood I wasn't intimidated by horrors driving their minds mad. They'd probably have died shortly before everything mattered came into view.

"Throne...that's something ya don't see often." Sigur flippantly remarked to inhale deeply as an unholy circular storm descending like fingers. Clouds embedded with Chaos's raw corruptible power of unseen forces had been forcefully been pulled towards a small churning circular mirror wedged in between two high towers. Stakes numbering in hundreds of thousands all aligned with corpses reaching outward, or been fused into wicked alters aligned in eight pointed stars. Waterfalls of blood seemingly fell from buildings and descended out of sight, if only to arch over fountains were an immense feeling of fresh screams of horrors echoed.

Sick gloomy lighting arched to crackle, snap and wail in disturbing tones of moans. Every Krieger, Anora and Alicia stood utterly petrified when faceless monsters formed in cloud as rows of teeth bit at the materium's veil literally. Lovely, they have a warp gate...what else should I not be fecking pissed to deal with now? Now things were definitely cleaning up questions about Tartarus's disappearance! I'd imagined she'd been lured and inevitably just got caught due to a Greater Daemon of Chaos announcing itself perfectly staged.

She Who Thirsts greatest entertainer...is a Greater Daemon, if logically assuming it'd been sent to perform an incursion to kick start a fecking party. I gauged details from studies to somewhat formulate one simple answer. More precisely I commented tiredly to break a spell of oppressing sorrow which made every human speechless, "Fecking weird shit only happens to me, I swear by the throne! And I think something is needed here."

Anora, Alicia, Sigur and Engel all looked towards me with varying degrees of separate twisted confusion. I laughed lightly to rub my head knowingly in hoping someone got a hint, "We're going to need bigger fecking guns to bring that down, if we're unlucky to survive." Engel swiftly looked to where an unholy abomination of immaterium met reality, he looked towards a vox-caster that seemingly held a similar mindset. Why didn't I seem surprised to believe it'd been so simply, I lamented resigned since unlike previous encounters things weren't too reasonable.

Fecking daemons, I hope Tartarus is alive or I'm going to be very hard pressed to save my skin. I pondered mainly to deal with sealing a warp gate, dueling an impossibly powerful daemon and somehow ignoring two burning entities within my arm! Thou ist true of your desire, mon'keigh warrior child! The children of 'She Who Thirsts' have assembled to welcome your dance of dances, for thy ist cunning and yet inferior of blood. Shed no mercy, no doubt and burn with what we shall endure.

Growing increasingly aggravated I psychically scoffed to only remind some entity, if they were destroyed momentarily? I wasn't smart enough to believed through vain desperation they'd easy come back not pissed off. Great idea genius, want a fecking prayer to guess if that gate isn't destroyed whenever we send daemon's back...they'll come back through, a bit refreshed to kill what little resources I have on hand? An angered silence gave me relief to work around yet another objective to gave my skin, get Tartarus out alive and send some daemon which probably would kill me once it knew said intentions.

Subtly movement gave an idea as I called out exasperated, "Skit fecking please tell me, by the throne! Can you somehow send a vox-signal outside the city, or maybe help the Krieger with Engel to...maybe I'd think to have every single, damned and big guns target that, please!" I stressed exhaustively to give my servo-skull time to process every urgent tone to know it'd been authorized. My head started to nurture a lingering headache due to how much I'd have to deal with, if only just understanding why I hadn't expected it.

"Acknowledged acolyte Eius." Skit stated to wane my exasperation to know he'd take a moment again to make said headache happen, "Machine spirit auspects indicate interference previously established as feasibly cleared, if only sporadic coordinates! Processing...location adjustments are required to be sent in short burst intervals to Death-Korp vox networks. Inquisitional protocol decrees authorization of current Inquisitor, or acting-inquisitor to utilize Astra Militarum assets for personal usage, or completion of mandate mission as per holy divinity of the Emperor's name." I rolled my eyes managing to humor enough of him talking ears off, I felt appreciated he'd just said it'd been possible and I swore to correct that from Val'Fex one day.

Oh why did you have to explain everything, I'm feeling wonderful Skit. I swear I'm getting you a sub-routine hobby since you just told me one thing! I sourly lamented to scour buildings capable to send said signal, to safeguard said location from innumerable daemonic enemies and yet somehow hope they'd hit enough to bring down said warp gate. Not to mention protecting those who'd relay said vox to hope they didn't die, or I died which meant we'd all die. Lowering my head utterly drained of patience I called out to a storm-trooper not regretting what I'd do next, "Sigur! Can you come over here for a moment, I'm taking your offer."

He seemingly walked over playing a fool which I had no patience to humor anymore. Cackling dryly he'd only asked, "What ya mean? Old Sigur is a little occupied, with fecking horrors of reality!" I glared to channel psychic might to only make him freeze when I plucked an used lho-stick from a chest pocket. Uncaring of repercussions I held it up using one ember on my finger to light easily and inhaled deeply to shudder internally, "Thank you, now go away! I hope you like being an idiot, you're down to four percent, again."

It'd been almost an entire year of abstaining from habits I'd not remind myself of simpler days. But by the Emperor's blessings, I felt far more comfortingly to make it clear to both Sororita who were naturally thunderstruck. I smiled painfully to remind Anora, or rather mentioned to Alicia who'd known myself of similar understanding, "Raised and lived with a lot of hive gangs! Picked up bad habits, I tried but I'm frustrated with all of this happening now." My hand raised itself to just flick aside tiredly, or rather giving up trying to pretend one fact never changed. Taking one long drag all too happily, I exhaled allowing steam to meld within to ventilate rising temperatures again.

Not one human being misheard me grimly point out,"I am going to die here!" I lamentably admitted feeling mentally drained to only accept possible assurance. Another shuddering cooler fire made my mood seemingly at ease, if just barely to not predict my odds. What a fecked up way to go, I thank you my Emperor for being generous to faithfully put myself to deal with everything. And...oh throne, I knew I was forgetting something!

Exhaling heavily while flickering ash decently to keep embers retaining taste and potency I heard Engel speak gravely, "Movement ahead." Staring tiresomely I peered through the warp to indeed witness scores of heretical humans in mobs, or deliberately told to meet their ends with false promises of whatever reasoning. The Kriegers mobilized to kneel into a tightly compacted formation expertly establishing an almost admirable reaction. But too little, too late I only realized they hadn't been aware of things beyond their physical senses.

"Engel..." I said the master-sergeant's name tiredly as las-guns were prepared to fire volley after volley. He genuinely made one vow I'd all too willingly loved to witness, or even assisted eagerly save for one problem, "They will not cross our line. We'll show them what it means to charge in death, if you decree it so, acolyte." I smiled partially happy for the man, if not friend I'd call him more than just simply being too rigidly dedicated. Yet I earnestly adored them which I rarely admitted, or rather wouldn't let them down genuinely.

However while taking in one long drag to mention a little discretion helpfully saying, "Them?" I stained my smile to laugh rather awkwardly to truthfully reveal an oversight, "I'd be happier if were only them! So what about them? Them? Oh, and them?" At my exasperated chuckling eyes drifted to literally every corner of an entire square, to behind us and along rooftops where ladders assisted to those who'd been deliberately told of rewarding spoils. Hundreds, to maybe a thousand at least were growing in sheer number.

This is getting better and better, I've noticed! I thought exasperated while inhaling continuously to wish I'd gotten another lho-stick from Sigur who looked outright impressed. My psychic sensors were formulating a number I'd not speak aloud, or risk any already maddening mission to complete. But at this rate I'd reasoned, if anything mattered most of all it'd be honestly helpful. Oh wonderful, we're getting a bunch of fecking grox who need their throats slit! And...oh throne, not again with them of all things!

Warily looking up to stare upward I only spoke grimly not even humoring myself anymore, "Everyone start shooting at something now, please." Anora managed to find her voice to whisper seeing almost an entire daemonic army of cultists which made my lamenting mood plummet, "Why?" I smiled sardonically irritated to harshly point out yet another damned detail, one of which I'd vow to regret every day if I lived. She deserved to know the truth which seemed cold, or heartless in hindsight yet I wouldn't have cared to say anything.

"Daemons, Anora...daemons." I brightly pointed upwards towards said details who began descending from an arc of orange lightning tearing an entire skyline torn asunder. Half twisted humanoids with claw like limbs, or nearly naked twisted creations of humane females shrieked joyfully piercing silence as an army of cultists bellowed in wicked desire. All of them were gazing from various heights, or when upon landing all hungrily focused on my indifferent expression. I exhaled simply to wince extremely self-consciousness of their intention, "Everyone better start fecking shooting at something as of right now...please."

End Chapter XVIII

Author's Note: If curve-balls are what most expected, I present you to...the screw-ball to your immense delightful reaction. I want everyone, if you've read this entire story from start to finish...look in between the lines and look to the origins of this character's back story. He's a gangster, cut throat, hiver who was from a hive-city infested with gang lords...who he's mentioned for running messages and being very clear to keep said lords from killing him. More so, I want to point out during Marcos's and Esdainn's conversation to look closely.

Eldar (Aeldari...still hate that change of name) are higher functioning beings, that no human according to the lore is capable to understand so easily. And they view humanity, which I'm entirely sure as to accurately portray them to view as brutish, simplistic and ideal sub-beings who just happen to endure things they'd not understand. I'm being technical because we take it for granted, so I had to level this scene fairly hard and try to convey certain Eldar don't interestingly enough interact, or encounter humans often to just know them by experience. Esdainn especially...I doubt many willingly, or even humor humans often to not play games.

They simply see things on a level humans presently in the lore do not even fathom. I'm still astonished despite being absorbed in 40,000 for years yet still because of how far they are compared to humanity, I mean I take for it granted to love the interactions! But in hindsight you need learn to crawl before you walk, to run and inevitably, to sprint full long into madness of willing action. Which was my entire goal for this story, to deceive and inevitably fool you to think intentionally Marcos Eius was some typical stereotypical character who was the driving force of good.

Good is relatively kindness in a grim-dark universe, so I present to you the real potential of Marcos as many things he's constantly hidden away. He's a kid, but not stupid and is incredibly dangerous because of said youth. Perception is what made him so seemingly decent, good and ideally a person many in this universe would not suspect because he genuinely uses the truth to simply hide in plain sight. Duality of man, their paradoxical acts and ironically enough, I'm giving you the truth because this kid is trying to change for that faint hope of being better.

But because of Ordos Malleus, Esdainn and fucking reality breaking down. Marcos has to stop pretending to be what he desires most, if not in name but of woeful intentional deception. Simply put, he's got nowhere to hide or think others won't see what I continuously hinted, hinted and really subliminally mentioned in actions throughout his journey. It might seem comedic, or remotely to reflect a paradoxical joke...it isn't, it's really happening and this kid is finally just coming to terms he's not going to be able to be entirely good.

I'm not a genius, I'm only using common sense and a little humor to flush out this total one eighty which was always going opposite of what had been initially there. So it leads to more open ended questions pertaining to everything you've seen, Chaos's invested interest and constantly pressure to really get a grip on him, Tartarus's seemingly aloof indifference of him going off and doing insane situations where yet seemingly it keep panning our favorably, plus his immense attachment to the Sororita of all people!

Ironically out of all of this explaining to you, we can say for sure about Marcos Eius. He's a deceiver naturally, it's not even talent but a skill masterfully crafted to survive and live in a place where everyone will kill you by a word, or subtle sign. He's not a genius, he's creative and fairly capable to use what he can to do the best...relatively speaking of course. Hence why I threw off the 'mask' of the story's true intentions, Marcos's theme is masks...I mean literally masks of humanity, desire and truth coming to forcefully take off said facade to grimly accept he's nothing without deception guarding him in spirit, mind and soul.

Everything was there in front of you, I only had to flick a switch and just seemingly reveal some almighty event...in reality, it was there but out of sight hiding intentionally by the character. Hence why the near later half of this chapter, I'm trusting you all to leave reviews, I daringly wish many would just say something, 'Good job, or whatever." I have time to write this for fun, it's not often but when I do...I pour passion into making this a quality read because everyone deserves someone to bring life to a universe long thought to be impossible.

Nonetheless I hope you all have a good day, stay safe and leave that important review so I can finally rest knowing someone can say to me...'You made something different, unique and original.' But really I do enjoy this hobby, I wouldn't have cared to not laugh and eagerly await your inevitably shock, or maybe you'd all expected this entirely. So let's find out soon, or not because I can for certain what the next chapter will encompass.

It'll be a running battle against time, fate and those struggling for sanity in a place where insanity is just another reasonable side effect.