The Inquisitor

Chapter XXIV

If Chaos had an entity to considered its beautiful lie, I asked myself staring unable to react save for thought alone. Then I found it staring right back within the warp's vast distance to see an almost angelic face of a woman who smiled kindly. No word, or words gave credit to how surreal this creature appeared despite being distorted, faded and seen across through rippling tides of psychic energy in an ocean of orange and reddish mixtures. Yet with fingers mimicking a human limb which dug deeper past flesh that couldn't react save for instinctual terror, bones became brittle to seemingly break with, but a word and gravity reversed to pulled every muscle forward as if it'd been natural.

The voice alone sounded far too harmoniously save to send shivers crawling underneath where I'd once believed to have a spinal cord, "Young children are such delectable things. Raw and powerfully capable to express so much, for so little." Behind that distortion was a thin thread barely visibly yet psychic tendrils glowering in sheer vibrant light shined prominently. However among an ever hellish landscape of tides of storms, chaotic force of unseen wills and sickening lightning it'd been nearly invisible entirely.

What...are you? I psychically questioned just as equally numbed to have it giggle sweetly when digits angled fractionally. Pain so unreal had my eyes widening before pleasurable relief followed, "I am who answers your prayers, mortals. I am the one who hears, listens and answers to desires of those who seek everything." That distorted face sparked near inhumanely when pinkish glowing eyes opened partially as if half lidded to concentrate further. Something unnatural slithered beneath flesh akin to serpents hunting, stalking and they were manifestations responding to one wouldn't relent to seek intended prey.

Any background noise had seemingly been willed out of existence as an orange light glowered consuming all. Yet I saw an image of a face shift subtly within that light leaving me suspended and the warp itself churned chaotically. I...won't say your name. It was my damned weak voice already breaking even psychically to which it looked down peering with two half lidded eyes. Another minuscule tug lurched bones beneath to pop, or strain as whatever kept them together became nearly brittle to flick into pieces.

"Yes, you will." The harmonious promise resonated far too assured to lightly laugh, "Nothing is out of my reach, for power alone is the word itself." Tenderly fingers were shifting causing me to gasp as electric bliss seemingly filled myself entirely. Yet it ceased all too quickly leaving pain to have tears slowly form and drop seamlessly perfect. Again that face shifted where more darker aspects appeared to gradually curl, twist and it seemed akin to a crown of sorts. It didn't make sense save for what it'd been called by those who worshiped said creature.

"I have heard you cry out in those darkest of days, child." I flinched when memories of being in alone within some hab-block shelter, or rather the place where everyone grew up. In an orphanage where the worst of those made like myself their playthings, I could remember those nights and looking only to see the upper hive seemingly as another world itself."Yes, I heard your prayers to the Anathema who ignores all, sees nothing and yet I saw you alone. Who stood up late at night, lay staring upward in that small metal prison, I am asking your grieved soul's cry of...why?"

How in the feck did this thing know when not one person inside that room was breathing? It peered smiling all too knowingly,"I listened to many, I heard so much and unlike one who sits silent, cold and never listens to those who are his precious children! But I do, I am here standing to take you in my arms, to whisk you away as the mother, the lover and you're hearts wish, for I have tasted your agony and desires to tell you...I am perfection." Tears involuntarily dropped due to how soothing, clear and undeniably spine shuddering to see those lidded eyes glowering. This was madness with no doubt yet I couldn't deny I wanted more all too readily.

It cooed gently to have what little sensation churning uneasily yearning for myself to listen desperation arising, "Your faith is simply misguided, I have heard your devotions, your convictions and they are only raw, if only to be molded to perfection. It only needs what you have yearned, for I heard you ever since you first appeared and I know what you seek. You cannot deny purpose, you crave not power for you already have will, nor glory, nor pleasure but happiness which is all too easily earned by your soul." There wasn't reason I had internally to deny what it'd been whispering, cooing and giggling turned adorably affectionate when those fingers loosen fractionally. It wasn't just a mere daemon I realized in numbed horror, or twisted delight in even anything save for what it'd spoken as truth decreed.

My faith...is misguided? How? I questioned feebly seeing only an ever churning void of orange and red which appeared as a vast ocean expanding beyond all sight. Yet a gargantuan area shifted to be molded, shaped and inevitably revealed an image with itself. "There is no happiness underneath that being who is Anathema, no longer does a bright future exist save for an endless servitude. For there's nothing left of man, you are different because you've seen how far they go to enact their desires and your kind must be corrected...by perfect hands."

The massive portion of the warp itself floundered helplessly and titans for waves clashed together in a deliberate showcase. Storms arose instantly, they seethed and broiled hissing forming unseen jaws which hounded flickering lights that faded immediately. Warp...storms? Only dimly aware I allowed eyes to drink in details as it'd been willed by another, "Endless storms which grow unhindered, child. For times have aligned to make such events unfold, I have heard you in your nightmares, the ones you struggle to understand to which I offered a reprieve granting you peace and you have listened to offer you something few never dared to dream about."

Again another image appeared slowly formulating to reveal some beautiful city. Iconography of the Imperium's holy aquilla stood out in golden detail, statues of the Emperor and various other figures aligned a horizon for kilometers as smaller figures approached. Those are...people? Millions upon millions journeyed to the bases of said architecture praising the master of mankind, they seemed far too excited when that image shifted towards a building towering over all. Yet one lone figure stood out dressed in blackened clothe raising a hand as if ordering silence.

"You realize who you see, Marcos." The image glowered in perfect detail to capture a beautiful man with eyes warmly looking over all, "Does he look familiar, if perfection claimed him?" Staring partially awed, or confused I saw features similar to myself yet it wasn't naturally right. Another figure appeared towards the right, "And your heart's desire yearns for something so truly happy. An equal of perfection to match your conviction, to stand by you regardless of faith and if not worthy of your dreams."

The two figures stood side by side overlooking millions who fell to their knees as a third appeared signaling for attention. All were obscured, none were recognizable and yet tears leaked down unknowingly when the two closest leaned together seeking comfort. Save for glinting eyes on a man who looked eerily similar to my own, they looked upward as a smirk appeared to see him nod minimally. I stared numbly reaching outward when millions arose onto their feet in a frenzy, a mad desperation and that smirk remained confidently in place. No remorse to ignore, no pity to hide and only a shrewd sense of knowing in realizing I'd understand.

But between that obscured face eyes gradually to see those glints turn into slits. Cold horror hit me full when blackened yellow sclera met my own as if...as if we'd been witnessing each other. A cruel handsome smirk appeared overtly smug to set off tingling warnings, more so when words mutely were deciphered. I watched him speak softly and I felt my guts coldly realize what they'd been all along. It seemed insane, or maddening yet I understood them too easily

All, or nothing. Help yourself to guess, they're all a joke! I stared numbly viewing that image growing inching closer as the last warning sent fire through veins which burned. Enjoy yourself fecker, I always do to get a laugh. Time itself slowed to a crawling pace when a knife flashed and casually slit the third figure's neck who gagged obviously. But the man similar to myself seemingly looked down before shrugging to idly kick over a corpse.

And then looked out over towards millions who'd froze in sheer terrific silence. Those twisted eyes stared impassively as a second figure leaned over whispering, or possibly showing affection to make this image dissipate. My Emperor...help me. The city burned in flames when it reappeared with that man leaning unperturbed against that same balcony's edge. Figures were tossed over helplessly, screaming mutely and he looked upwards again.

They never change no matter who says shit, so someone's got to make them. Those words were mouthed seemingly as twisted figures screaming came pouring from above in orange sickly rifts splitting across an entire sky. Two blackened yellow eyes narrowed bemused to have him turn his back on millions. Helpless millions who were cut down, screaming for help and yet it all faded away into dust. I stared with tears sporadically falling as that image ceased to exist and a loving coo appeared all too happily.

"There's no future for man, Marcos. Not to the Anathema who remains silent, to never answer those who worship him." Another hand tilted my chin upward to stare right into those half lidded orbs which were seemingly narrowed happily, "But I answer those whose desires run in their hearts, for their souls sing and I embrace those who seek that purpose. Will you say my name, to become my child, for I shall be your mother, your lover and I will never fail to whisper in your ears that I am always right...here."

I trembled to look away considering all too strongly to see a distortion appear behind. Blinking away blurred lights, but then I saw something incredibly surreal. I literally stared at myself looking back through a small rift and with two flaming wings struggling. Time itself again seemed to drawl to a crawling pace when my own eyes looked vacant at least, more so they were impaled by tendrils of orange and red warp tendrils. Looking over myself briefly I noticed a faded limb pale blue, or near white which reappeared seemingly at will.

"Say the name of your god, Marcos." It whispered lovingly making eyes drift back upwards to see those half lidded orbs glowering. Yet something subtly began appearing in gradual clarity, blackened serpent like scales, an eerily red pair of slits hungrily anticipating and claws for nails which dug into my face coyly. Then in one fluent rapid motion of time itself, I swore everything became maddening to just realize I'd been dragged right in the warp itself, by psychic will and I was not physically there...literally.

The name of god who I believe in...right? I answered when feeling returned as strength surged hotly to have me stare right into this entity that seemed desperate. Desperation alone made my eyes blink when it whispered, "Yes child, say the name and nothing will be never be out of your reach. Pleasures, excess, pain and perfection of what you desire most...is right in front of you, for I never fail to acquire who deserves and earns it most."

I stared numbly to blink again as blackened horns literally started curling around where a beautiful face once stood. Hair once golden turned bone white, eyes which were a harmonious pink and amethyst like iris's narrowed into serpent red slits as if a mirage was broken, I watched it all in distortions which obscured everything and yet I blinked again. What am I worth to you? I'm human, so why bother with me, if all what you say is true?

The entity shifted subtly peering losing that innocent smile altogether. Chortling quietly I met those slits indifferently save to smile cheekily. Heat surged on my side when a hand dipped bringing up familiar cold metal. The purity seal glowered strongly as I whispered vindictively, "Oh, I get it! Let's guess who's wrong, you fecking bitch!" I gripped tightly one holy piece that burned enraged, when I screamed summoning all strength and adrenaline to bellow my resolve which thundered endlessly. It shook everything, every where and anything without hesitation, for I swore I damned myself to face whatever this entity dared to imagine to have a man break into nightmares.

Three words sent it reeling away shrieking,"The Emperor protects!" I resisted screaming to snarl hatefully to see an illusion crumbling into dust, "You insolent human!" The damned thing shrieked lividly as unimaginable pressure crushed my face shattering bone, muscle and yet I laughed almost literally face to face. Chaos lied through truth, I lied truthfully and yet unlike this entity, I gave it credit for one fecked up out of body experience. I almost really felt flattered, but I realized something incredibly fun to attempt.

Liquid built up a mix of blood, saliva and disgust when I spat defiantly to have it jerk aside in stunned silence. Feck yourself. Literally everything still momentarily when those red slits slowly returned as crimson red filled once harmonious pink. An ear thundering hissing appeared in response when my lone limb grasped another belonging to said enraged entity who'd been trying to crush myself partially, "You little shit."

Word for word I felt everything quaking to see it smile deviously and light broke into darkness. Followed by when a prominent snap of flesh being tore out, scale claws lengthening and struck swiftly to catch me dead center in horrified eyes. Two small pops and hell literally had just sent my shrill cries of agony outward. Darkness, light and a wicked laughter were dragged as an impression of it pulling tendons hit me faster than hatred itself.

"You dare spit in the face of perfection? You dare! It screeched to send even my agony dwarfed and unworldly sensations of acid made darkness seem sweeter. I was dying bit by bit and yet I still roared blindly smashing one fist into a being who'd just plucked out eyeballs. Damned, or not I shouted again feeling raw hatred, danger and sheer desire to send this bitch's face back to where it'd belong. Out of reality, out of nightmares and back into that blackened hole to hopefully shut that hole of a mouth up for a long time.

"Shut that shit of a hole in your face!" I demanded clawing at an unseen limb enveloped in darkness as a hissing laughter seemingly came from behind, "You will learn your insolence has a price, to be paid child of men. But I promised gifts freely earned, as such for I do not lie." That sicked giggling returned in earnest far too happily yet it was far more devious to imagine, sinister to hear and by the throne it promised undeniable agony when surging forces of the warp itself thundered. Orange and red merged when my soul shattered with my voice endlessly crying out.

Glass struck eyes to gouge, splinter and slice into layers as I felt every bit of until nothing else mattered. It laughed wickedly pleased, I screamed unable to do anything and yet I still heard it proclaim lovingly to showcase cruelty on a scale I'd never would realize. It thrived on it, it lavished every moment and not once did it never stop. Whatever it was doing, I'd been willed to feel every inch of delicate muscle and nerve ending drenched in pain to have my craving for death seem sweeter in comparison.

"I curse you with gifts freely earned and granted, Marcos Eius." The bind of psychic power struck me akin to being gouged alive as I gasped seeking air when it'd never existed, "Longevity shall be your price, perfect and unnaturally pure to all eyes of men, who flock to your voice and fall to their knees craving your sight. No man, woman or human shall fail to seek out desires, to tremble and wane when your smile sends their hopes astray...for they shall see what they are, if to show what lies reside in their hearts and souls to see you full."

I gagged on blood when acidic sensation burned away what was once human entirely. The laughter turned far too cruel to sweeten it's pleasures, "Happiness is cruel, cruelty is joy for you will never taste what you dream most, save for nightmares come forth and no human shall touch you once lies are truth. Truth itself is your lie, damned of men and damned of soul, you shall know no peace among those who you seek, for you are damned by will. For the hearts of all are revealed, share not your pleas for they fall deaf upon ears, for this I curse you in the name of the Dark Prince of Pleasures...mortal child."

That ear jarring laughter echoed monstrously when it whispered one last promise to have my gaze return brighter and it hurt so much. Sheer cruelty matched only wicked pleasures of satisfaction, "You shall stain those who see my gifts, for those who see shall realize whether they not know of ignorance, or innocence to have horror filled their souls as I decree! Never shall it break, never shall it wane and only grow over time, for in their hearts of nightmares you see...what man is most best adhered too. No pity, no remorse, no will and only desire shall what you see with these gifts I freely give."

Clutching the purity seal I shouted defiantly when sight started returning to view an image of hellish proportions. The Dark Prince's face of angelic beauty, of innocence and surreal kindness hard morphed into a creature whose smile split apart souls, to hear untold trillions or innumerable screams singing out in wicked agony seeking ends to eternal hell. Yet it giggled far too pleased to proclaim an end to all good things. I choked when it closed a mouth to smile invitingly, "Never shall I rescind my cursed gift of perfection unless you are before me, to take me in your arms, Marcos. Before me you shall be kneeling worshiping my being, begging I for mercy and in desiring my touch in the perfected Palace of Pleasures, time is what I will, so I never forget your insolence until my pleasures cease...to hear and taste your agony, little one."

Among horizons a massive warp storm churned dangerously and began surging forward encompassing distances so vast it'd been impossible to gauge. As sight kept returning I curled unintentionally in some fetal ball when glass, or sensations were tearing my body apart and each slicing fire torn within ruthlessly cruel. Yet I still whispered heaving as agony itself never ended, "The Emperor protects! He who rules over mankind, he who is one who protects and I swear I'll rip your throat out somehow you bitch!"

Never had I hated anything so strongly, fiercely and it seemingly burned internally to make pain barely recognizable. You want blood? We'll play for blood then! Struggling to stare upwards I laughed insanely to bare teeth realizing I'd just threatened to kill what couldn't be killed, "I hope the Emperor is listening well and hard, if I can't get blood then I pray he finds someone who can!" I found myself being dragged closer towards some mountain sized jaws which parted amusingly, it looked like an untold amount of beings crying out struggled to futilely break free. It was akin to tides rippling as two red slit eyes a mixture of pink and white slyly narrowed.

"Perhaps I shall feast on a treat, then!" Between valleys of serrated teeth which were stained of blood, sin and perverse moans a tongue came rapidly to close distance. This is it, isn't it? I laughed still trying to pry off a hand and it's grip was steel itself. Feck yourself, I hope you choke on me you bitch of a god! Enjoy it!

The blackened tendril slithered and wreathed savoring a prey it'd been all too tempting to devour. I stared defiantly and happily to tremble knowing I'd die, I was all too ready and not once I felt regret knowing I'd done all I could. Ironically death would have been sweeter, kinder and peaceful to experience that hell I'd been sucked right into wholesome. All, or nothing...reality is a joke in itself because these things make time their bitch. Well, least I'm going down laughing and that's the real joke to piss this thing off.

I still didn't know by the throne what I'd been experiencing, or remotely aware to imagine what exactly the warp contained. I would never be able too, if anything sanity and madness were just perhaps inconsequential casualties of reality, because Chaos never would rest until it consumed everything which held will, power and desire. They only lied to make truth seem kind, they spoke truth and yet lied because I had will to figure it out. And now I was going to wish death had taken me earlier, but I only raised one finger forgoing hope to escape it's grasp.

Yet I never despaired when I closed both eyes clutching a seal tight and secured. Bless is your grace to hear my prayer, please hear me God Emperor of Mankind. I ask you grant me strength and courage for I refuse to give in to this daemon, grant me courage, strength to defeat my enemy and... Beneath tight compacted fingers a holy metallic seal scorched angrily in breaking my reverence to look up as a flaming figure literally crushed the tongue of this entity. I lost words and understanding when it stood towering over wreathed in flame, metal and armor.

I watched undeniably shocked to view an Astartes come bursting from fire behind rumbling in a voice devoid of humanity,"I shall know no fear." Blackened power armor in spectral appearance stood facing down a shrieking jaw of Chaos which recoiled immediately. The gauntlet was glimmering showcasing small outlines of pale bone and yet seemed to refuse to break against a tendril trying to constrict it. Ever impassively it looked over one inflamed pauldron aligned with scriptures, seals and an almost surreal glowing light giving me ample clarity.

The helm looked reminiscent of human facial bone structure save for how real to assume it'd been authentically. It looked so real I saw blood red glass sockets burning an ever unyielding crimson with wisps flaking outward. Angels of Death. An insignia of one lone flame stood rippling when the power armor specter raised a gauntlet to point behind. Instinctively I followed to see that same small image frozen giving me unspoken guidance to do what the Emperor commanded, to do what needed to be done and I found my heart hurting know I'd be damned entirely.

"Guess our Emperor does listen to people who hate being fecking useless." I whispered chortling to feel weight pulling myself downward seeing that it'd been a joke, I knew people were idiots and that was made someone like me find it ironic I could do things no person who wasn't a psyker get done. Only in death, duty ends...yeah, what a fecking load of grox shit. Thank you, I guess? I voice psychically equally frustrated, or warily amused just to blink owlishly when as a lone Astartes minimally nodded.

As fire started to consume everything in sight did I only chuckle quietly. It seemed I wasn't the only who was damned after all, so at least I felt flattered knowing someone had responded to another who found life and duty a joke in itself. Oh well, can't bitch or moan what's happened...I got a promise to keep. And I swear by the Emperor's grace, I burn your fecking ass back to where it belongs daemon. It's only natural to fear a monster who keeps their word, and I haven't lied about that ever since knowing I'd regret it. And in one fleeting movement, I witnessed that last image before everything turned to a white light was of that lone spectral Astartes rushing towards an entity with a blade drawn into madness.


I snapped back inhaling sharply to hear an ear splintering wave of undeniable agony as I looked down hearing the xeno's voice yelling sternly. She Who Thirsts approaches! End it child, or face perils beyond your comprehension! Orange glowering came dangerously closer from behind when the inflamed sword sunk deeper and adrenaline had muscle slicing internally, "Will you do me a favor and just fecking die now, please!" I hoarsely demanded angrily to see reddish potent flames hungrily become near nova as inch by inch it slid across, if only just when that Masque's eyes were widening all too damning itself to terror.

The daemons unyielding shrieking were just a damned irritation as I grunted to reverse that blade's seething edge to cut across. Peering right into that mask which flickered, struggling to maintain shape and blackened tendrils were unknowingly solidifying just below where a heart would have been beating blood. Oh yeah, you're dead! I vowed savagely to stare right into an ever crackling mask which held hatred rivaling even the Emperor's wrath, "You should have stayed out of my head. Now you're going to get a shiv in the third rib, so bleed and enjoy it...bitch."

Flaming edges ravaged daemonic essence to send it into dust and ash as it'd struck the mass of blackened corruption. It's expression looked horrified much to my cruel smirk to whisper far too lovingly pleased, "Does that hurt? Oh wait, you love it!" I laughed wheezing as an arm jerked sharply running through to have black liquid and crimson stains splattering across me in a cooling display of welcomed relief. Those blackened yellow sclera eyes were widening to the point where it'd been earnestly shocked to gag up liquids.

Both legs collapsed to have it entrapped between wings which sharpened and angled backwards to impale themselves viciously. The Masque itself jerked sporadically when pieces of it were fading into literal dust as orange, red and yellow melded to scorch what blackened corruption of Chaos sustaining itself internally. Yeah, keeping doing what you're doing. Just die, go back to that grox shit liar of Chaos who calls itself your Prince, you hear me? And by the Emperor I hope you tell it my answer...feck yourselves for being misery's joke.

Psychic wills clashed together in a turmoil spilling outwards as the warp itself was sent flying in waves quaking entirely buildings. The earth groaned loudly, unseen forces strained for it uphold and inevitably buckled underneath my feet. More so when an arm held the once terrible daemon by a neck, I saw it limp unable to withstand flames, wills and desire. Xeno, do me a favor and fecking punch it's face in! This thing doesn't deserve anything less, or by the Emperor is that enough? I questioned savagely to see serrated claws slip out of my own flesh which cauterized instantly, so I expected some sort of retort or disgusting comment in all honestly.

But a fist curled to slam downward clocking the daemon's jaw sending pieces of borrowed flesh aside into embers sizzling angrily. Another came without unseen enjoyment, satisfaction and brute resolve certainly made every psychic enhanced punch to crack humane limits. And the xeno never responded save to do what I'd promised, I relished without caring to see suffering to just laugh at it hoarsely bemused. I exhaled happily to see its presence in the Immaterium fading bit by bit, it'd been unprepared to handle what it'd never expected.

Two partial faces looked up as black liquid poured from lips glaring silently making me smugly ask, "You picked the wrong fecking guy, who knows how to hide a shiv!" Taking control of a descending limb, I sneered to forcibly have a hand start in crushing an exposed throat, I idly sensed much to a subtle surprise from the xeno itself. I'd imagined the look it had on some level, for this long act hadn't been been done by my puppeteer. This was my will, my desire and I'd damn well enjoy it because this daemon was going back to it's own hell!

It loves pain, it says it loves suffering and agony? Laughing weakly I saw heard it gasping as the sword plunged further to poke behind making intentions clear. So, I'll make it suffer until it goes back to where it belongs! Blood for blood, all or nothing since I'm sending this bitch back to the warp and I pray to the Emperor, to hope it never comes inside my fecking head ever again. I wanted this damned thing to feel every bit of hell, if it wanted to play rough then I'd play rougher and if it wanted to suffer then by the Emperor's wrath should I have it suffer!

Psychic will channeled fire so potent, skin scorching and I couldn't give a damn to not see it turning to dust. It rivaled a star going super nova, far hotter than magma or even the most holiest of weaponry that sent it screeching as I took in every detail cruelly satisfied. Retribution fueled my heart, hatred became the weapon and vengeance was on hand to be savored delectably. And I wasn't ever going to miss a chance to have it beg for death personally.

"Say your god's name, I dare you!" I hissed seeing those eyes struggling to remain when orange lines filled itself internally, "The Emperor does not forgive, he does not show mercy and neither shall I to those who make humans turn their back on his light! Say it!" I roared wheezing to have it break further into dust with flames spiraling out control to extend outwards, I wanted it to say my Emperor and beg him for mercy. Yet the damned thing hissed subtly refusing all too prominently when I spat blood into an eye disgusted.

Just pray to the Emperor, daemon. I smugly intoned seeing it shake itself erratically refusing and undeniably suffering to know they all feared him rightfully so. I was his retribution upon them all, I was the weapon of truth and by his grace I'd make these things fear themselves. Pray, I want to hear you call him for mercy, to be spared your rightful damnation and if you don't...you'll learn how too one way, or another.

In moments it'd begun to rapidly spout of alien tongues I couldn't decipher, or even remotely begin to imagine in fluent hate. No amount of hell could be made save for them to speak of the Emperor, I watched seething to be denied what it'd enacted on millions who too ignorant to never realize they'd been sent to eternal damnation. They'd chosen it, they'd seen it and their hopes were to be delivered right into holy cleansing to have them all be forgotten. Nothing less, or more amounted to those who were seeking desire to be burned in their graves.

The sheer amount of dust from incinerating retribution of flame unable to die, or fade when it knelt down rightfully. Channeling one last remnant of will and psychic desire I spoke softly savor every flickering emotion running along a face crumbling, "Any last words?" It's eyes were fading to gray yet that yellow simmered hatefully, if anything I had to give resolve to it fighting for existence and there was nothing more to imagine. It would die in disgrace, to be banished and if it ever came back I'd be there to send it back without fear fecking happily.

"You foolish child, for I don't but, for the Prince does!" I stared simply when a cruel smile matched my own and the warp flickered sending warnings of dangerous deception. Tendrils arose meaningfully enraged around itself to smash into flame and writhing columns arose when it started stand forcing my feet skidding roughly backward. I refused to be forced yet it was gradual to know it'd been preparing, as if been expecting such an outcome to have claws angling backward. And in that moment I saw only one glimpse.

The Masque's two faces grinned hungrily when it lunged forward biting sharpened teeth into an angle choking it. I cried out unintentionally releasing said grip and the warp flickered when two prominent lines of deceptive black came streaking from the side. Unable to watch save for being surreal did I just happen to get shoved backward seeing an orange glow. But without hesitation two serrated claws came literally impaling dead center of my own gaze. Oh shit...this is really gonna hurt. Without even realizing after said thoughts I only felt a slight popping of organs, liquid acid followed and my world vanished into unimaginable hell when bolter fire came too late.


The three armored vehicles immediately halted as lightning seemingly faded revealing what lay beyond to have the Inquisitor shout, "Open fire!" Three heavy stubbers sent rounds flying towards a daemonic being which was locked in a death defying struggling with another, who been sent reeling backwards impaled on fading limbs. Doors sprang open as every last Krieger, what few storm-troopers and the a small group of Sororita unleashed a fury of holy munitions striking an abomination of unholy creation. Yet every last one of them had seen events unfold, they'd been too late to see it send two wicked claws into a boy's eye sockets.

Nothing occurred at first until a throat tearing scream of unmistakably suffering, disbelief and rage filled their senses fluently. Despite being near on fire entirely with flames similar of wings crushing and locking down a daemon who'd been capable to send their minds asunder, it'd been a duel where death was but a sweet consolation. The Inquisitor stoically narrowed her gaze peering into what little veil between reality remained, "What in the Emperor's name have you unleashed, boy? Your mind is shattered and yet you still have brought this daemon and yourself to the brink."

Lasfire struck rapidly into the daemon's exposed back as it turned leering with bloodied teeth to send an unnatural wave of terrifying will. Several Krieger korpsmen fell immediately clawing at their masks and falling onto knees writhing muffled cries, "What is this unholy creature!" Anora shouted spraying bolter munitions struggling to even lift a weapon as armor became heavier, too slow and her very being betrayed itself. Jalena stared wincing when those half colored eyes had hardly deterred what psychic potency which tainted every inch of a city's interior.

Don't cease firing at it, it's been considerably weakened and that alone is making it pause! Psychic pressure surged sending a spiraling tendril smashing behind into the warp rift where reality and veil met openly. Near acidic sensations sending skin, or instinct of life fleeing was suppressed immediately when her hands began flipping through pages of their own accord. They had to overwhelm it with everything, or else it'd regain enough will to manifest fully into the truth monstrosity that hadn't sent insanity to fatal consequences.

If it pulls away from him, you'll learn unholy is but a mere word! Around them the warp itself began churning inwardly as unseen groans from buildings were being dragged off foundations. Yet another sign if time lingered, they'd be introduced to what was beyond the critical protection of gellar fields and it had to be closed immediately. Ignoring instinctive panic she channeled will as psychic pressure started cracking the earth beneath herself to concentrate fully, to ignore all sound and detail to focus on summoning ample bonds of purification.

"Daemons!" Alicia shouted seeing molding shapes darting from behind a convulsing Marcos who gurgling loudly due to an overflowing red foam and flakes of ember. Wicked creatures shrieking their praises charged head long into half aware, or inhibited Kriegers who met them with bayonets and entire square became a bloodied frenzy. The power armor Sister of Battle snarled when a chain-sword met air as a claw like pincers sent the bolt pistol flying hissing utterly pleased, "Foul trickery! For I am the Emperor's servant and you shall perish abomination!"

The chain-sword wiped around impaling a half feminine, or masculine creature as it'd tried leaping to take her head off. Bolt weaponry cut down many which were surging in a wild, lust and determined wave which seemed endless appearing from the rift's opening. Yet Alicia refused to buckle when tearing the half mad daemon to shreds as she moved quickly slicing one's limbs clean off. It'd been wresting down a korpsmen to followed up with a bayonet striking through it's forehead to fire rapidly sending it into dust.

"Sisters drive them back! Gun them down, show no mercy and if we must, we die for the Emperor!" She bellowed zealously renewed waving the roaring chain-sword towards a rift's glowing surface. Korpsmen lined themselves effectively between power armor wielders, together they gradually push forth moving in horizontal formations in forming a constant line of sustained munitions sending daemons into dust clouds of anger. Nearby two Kriegers fell in a gush of crimson as their heads were torn without preamble leisurely aside.

Bolters unleashed a hail of bullets midst prayers, or litanies shouted out to send more to their deaths and sent them back within. Yet the one who'd caused an entire city to fall stood upright with a boy who shrilly gurgled moving closer towards a rift personally. There was a cold command which rightfully belonged to an Inquisitor whose sheer psychic pressure sent daemons scurrying away. They'd felt a massive presence aligning and none dared to be caught, or risked being obliterated to never reappear willingly.

The woman heard her speak psychically and nothing remotely good came to reveal intentions too damning to nightmares. Don't let it get him closer, for the warp is visibly seeping out of that rift and you can imagine what it does to exposed humans. Keep it still, Sister of Bloody Rose or you're fellow sister shall be granted an honour you'd obliged. Adrenaline surged when armor responded swiftly to her will and body when cutting aside daemons who tried in vain to deter yet fury alone prevailed to send them to the ground.

She stomped hard crushing ones skull into paste as dust immediately followed with another of it's kin to have a head severed. Internally a helm's locked to see Marcos's convulsing form struggling openly as unseen hellish words were easily deciphered. He'd been aware somehow through such trauma to make some bending flame of a weapon retract and cut into the daemon who'd shrieked in clear indication of painful reaction. Holy Father I beseech you, please grant him strength and courage since he has suffered to give us your grace to destroy this unholy evil. For none shall fall in failing to praise your name!

Sweeping a chain-sword's bloodied edge to tear through another daemon who fell writhing and openly spouting crimson. She moved quickly thrusting an arm aside flinging another away as distance closed to see an ever clearer expression. A boy whose face was not of unspeakable agony, but of hate infused rage when stabbing repeatedly despite losing all sight. Blood darkened when spilling underneath unnatural fingers yet it was clear, he'd been aware to continuously fight until nothing of him remained and that alone sparked zealous conviction. Against all possibility, a boy who should have been broken was still undeniably haphazardly resisting.

Tracers overhead hissed past both pauldrons to strike almost precisely several daemons who floundered to the ground screeching. She leaped over them crushing any limbs, or skull intentionally due to suppressive fire from korpsmen who recognized an intended objective. Joints within armor strained when pushing them humanely to limits, "For the Emperor!" Her bellowing cry was met with more gunfire of both lasgun, bolter and stubber cutting down daemons into bloodied pieces giving a clear strike against the greatest of evils.

You shall not touch him after this day! Her thoughts murderously came to fury when swinging overhead when the creature stilled to turn far too quickly. Seeing a face of hellish imagination struck screeching lividly to lung forward catching the chain-sword itself. Serrated edges struggling spinning in place as tearing flesh lazily tilted her blade to peer less than pleased, "Such anguish I taste, for I must agree! But this one belongs to the Great Prince, mortal!" Her armored strained when a small hand mimicking an almost child like figure hissed insistently amused to hold itself in place, but it'd been stopped momentarily.

Unnatural doubt began creeping when two half faded slits narrowed hungrily as a weight started filtering underneath armor. Joints strained considerably making a heavier metal groan when it whispered deviously delighted, "Oh, what is this?" The voice of girl and inhumane abomination seemed to be indifferent to bolt rounds striking it, or had seemingly not felt them to smile deviously exposing serrated teeth, "You have one of many, of the boy's heart who cried out too and I can only savor the anguish he shall endure! Such pain, of him he endures and yet you will see lies of truth which resides within."

Casually one humane looking digit lifted sending the Sister of Battle onto knees which betrayed will all too easily. Alicia scowled struggling to even make a chain-sword to descend, an unholy presence started seeping and seemingly preventing her will to be done of the Emperor's name. Despite holding a small staff of wicked faces smiling and frowning in four and blocking serrated teeth of a weapon, she recognized it'd just used one in a fashion of pleasant bemusement to giggle deviously. What devilry is this madness!

The boy struggled while impaled to be casually lifted above to merely be leaned backwards into the warp seething surface. It just moved one step to extend an arm, "Cruelty of heart, unseen tears of hope and he is but one mortal. Never shall he reach out again, never shall he hope and never shall you wish to see what is of truth." Proclaiming lovingly to coo to send a woman's stomach churning disgustedly when holy seals began burning brightly in response, a holy protection struggling to maintain purity and faithful devotion.

"For the Great Prince gifts as promised, for I will savor and return to bring him before us to be claimed. What shall be ordained, will come to pass!" Each was whispered vindictively pleased to see her scowling expression despite hidden beneath blessed armor, "His heart, will and soul are out of man's reach until forevermore, so cry and regret, for his fate shall never escape our grasp no longer...Alicia of Bloody Rose. Your corpse god waited too long, ever so blind and now we hold a tool to be molded."

Marcos's convulsing form tilted itself to just move past as his face submerged to have limbs flailing wildly. Unseen, or unheard couldn't amount to skin turning red as streams leaked down where he'd been forced into the warp's exposure. Sorcery of Chaos, to say foul damned tricks! You dare lie to my face, you dare to spew lies when he hasn't succumbed to you abomination! Her thoughts roared to lift upwards with limbs and muscle striving to overcome unnatural will. Yet the daemonic being who wore faces of masks smiled all too innocently.

"Such misguided faith, of you but not of he! For truth, or lie you shall reveal what the child fears to be reality..." Any other word ceased as a tearing flash of darkened crimson and black liquid sprayed to douse Alicia's visor partially. The daemon looked down unperturbed to see a flaming fist holding some sort of twisted flesh pulsating, "Just...fecking shut up!" Marcos's wheezing demand made her eyes go wide to see a near skinless face of red and scalded forming around eyes which leaked fluids to melt human skin.

Clenching what mimicked a beating heart the boy's hand retracted to tear it out brutally. You can't see and yet you hold true to our Emperor! The sister of battle gnashed her teeth to break a spell of weight and sent the chain-sword plunging into an exposed shoulder. A chain-sword furiously tore and split apart flesh sinking deeply, "The Emperor protects." She whispered vindictively to see a flash of irritation along said daemon's features when it stared behind when golden light formed around itself and chains tightly bound it entirely from psychic will.

The Inquisitors preparations starting to sink into a daemon's flesh as it scowled irritably when suddenly releasing the boy. He dropped groaning to slam back first onto a fountain's edge and rolled over with flames dying off simultaneously exposing sickened wounds of blackened skin. She pressed downward cutting further into a being that started to fade openly with dust being indicators it'd been over whelmed by sheer force. Yet not an once of anger, pain or hatred save for a smirk for pleasurable adsorptions when it only stared pleased.

"Enjoy your cursed gifts, Marcos." It whispered fondly struggling to turn despite chains of golden holy will causing it to shatter quickly, "For I'd love to see those eyes next time, I might just dance with you and not let you go." The laughter turned cruelly delighted when a flash of light and explosion sent Alicia crying out skidding backwards forcefully. She got sent nearly across an entire square slamming abruptly in rubble to see a warp rift flickering and contacting forcefully as various daemons screeched angrily.

All around who'd been either tearing apart Korpsmen, or who'd been denied killings see mingy screeched into dust themselves. The very city turned deathly silent save for tumbling debris as gravity and normalcy returned while millions stumbled audibly. She panted to stand upright when a fading orange light exposing the warp, but faded to shimmered away with golden chains binding both ends as the Inquisitor grunted openly to fall to her knees trembling out of sheer exhaustion. Quiet stillness reigned naturally once again as gusts of howling wind appeared as though nothing had been amiss, a surreal yet chilling quickness when Chaos's presence made it entirely impossible.

Well, I must admit this was much easier to seal that rift without being hard-pressed. I appreciate your efforts to have that much easier of a task to accomplish, sister Alicia. She heard the Inquisitor warily remark to inhale deeply as her helm zoomed inward to see sweat leaking profusely when psychic control reasserted itself tightly. The veil had been sealed shut entirely imposing the Immaterium to die as corruption of Chaos's presence faded to an unseen return. Jalena verbally sent a vox out inquiring who had survived, "How many by the Emperor's will still think sanely, sound off or be at peace with those who died in his service and duty."

The sheer opposite reaction when korpsmen of Krieg who still borne wounds, or were lying motionless signified near disbelief. They'd been struggling for their lives against foes who been vanquished, it made several stare around themselves several times or others checked on those who'd not stirred due to heads severed. Alicia peered to notice others of her sisterhood getting themselves up onto both feet, for they'd been blown backwards as well with only Sigur loudly stating, "Feck me! It's easy to kill these bastards, but why by the throne is it fecked up they can just leave and still come back. Feck this shit, feck it!"

Her expression bordered on either disgust, or disbelief when the lone surviving storm trooper fell backward against rubble exhausted. Exhaustion alone seemed to radiate from one korpsmen to another who individually tried to stand, if only to fall momentarily breathing heavily in silence. Don't be alarmed, for the warp and reality are adjusting themselves to have us relive what should be considered humane limitation. Tartarus's psychic explanation revealed warily to know the rift's exposure had made natural existence bend itself forcefully and was reasserting gravity to make matter obey logic's assumption to their perception.

"Thank the Holy Father this nightmare has ended." She whispered reverently to have an Inquisitor remark rather sardonically over the vox, "Hold your prayers, girl. For this is only a taste of true nightmares Chaos infects, it shouldn't have been this difficult yet our foes beyond hold power few hope to survive and soon...it'll repeat expected upon another world." Alicia didn't doubt the lady-inquisitor's cynical amusement for truth since it'd be expected, they would face daemonic enemies again and it would repeat until death claimed them inevitably.

Slowly standing to stand did her suits legs steadily make towards Marcos's prone form which occasionally twitched. We'll have to call for an air extract from orbit, the ship has ample resource to enact such situations. The Inquisitor's psychic message reached her quickly enough as a vox caster who'd been wounded knelt down to have Jalena begin that preparation. Yet the sister only kept focus on another when seeing details emerging making her expression falter considerably. Among all standing it'd been the youngest who suffered extensive wounds, or rather had been intentionally targeted to be reduced to this miserable state.

Placing the chain-swords idle form aside she knelt down taking off a helmet to nearly gag when burned human flesh charred freshly. Holy father have mercy, Marcos just look at yourself! The small body frequently started shivering when a charred arm with pieces of flesh fell off consistently as it'd been unable to hold itself together. Severe burns ran along half of his torso, bicep and bruising consistently turned an ugly bluish purple along exposed ribs. Her eyes refused to leave odd protrusions indicating bone had been splintered brutally, shattered internally and yet one hand remained almost intact save for fingers tightly clenching an object feverishly.

She peered closer seeing it'd been one of their blessed seals which still remained solid with an aquilla glinting despite all odds. But these details were only kind in retrospect when a single droplet trailed to see the boy's entire face unrecognizable. Nothing from his forehead to chin looked remotely what they'd last seen of him earlier onward, a series of gruesome tolls for his recklessness were being paid in blood and ruthless imagination. Slashes tore cheeks to see reddened teeth chattering as if being chilled to the touch yet serrated lacerations around his neck leaked blooded droplets, Alicia winced comparing them to near animistic savagery.

How can you still cling to life after all this...how? Her tightening expression threatened to look away when the worst of all had been made clear. His eyes were gone entirely, or possibly torn from their sockets considering so much crusted blood and flesh made it appeared pitch black. There wasn't any way to determine if he physically saw herself, or held a future to see entirely. Yet his small chest rapidly rose amiss swallowed breaths as she finally looked away disgustedly for seeing him in such ruined conditions.

Almost in conjunction to her growing turmoil the boy's face turned slightly grinning through blood stained lips, "Feck, Emperor knows I'm going to feel this tomorrow!" Even his cheeky jest had been just forced out wheezing. Disbelieving to pray that the Emperor to realize Marcos's sanity hadn't been entirely lost, or possibly it'd revealed his humor alone. Regardless her voice tightened in a blend of anger and relief, "You stupid boy! Don't talk...please just don't, look at yourself by the Holy Father's blessing to see you breathing."

He stared over grinning to cough lightly spitting out pieces of hardened flesh and blood, "It hurts to think...so I'd rather enjoy speaking what's on my mind." An arm tried to move but due to how charred and dried out, a portion crumbling into brittle pieces forced him to cease immediately. Yet he had an effort exhale exhaustively to look upwards as if rolling what eyes could have been in place, "And there goes that arm! Grox shit...I'm not moving, not for a bit..." His face shifted with a voice lowering tiredly to breathe happily even though death itself wasn't too far to claim him entirely.

Alicia gently placed what little of a gauntlet onto an arm which hadn't threatened to disintegrate unable to imagine he'd live truthfully. He wouldn't be what he had been if these grievous wounds were signaling a near fatal future, "I'm not blind, Alicia." Marcos stated humorously to chuckle as that joke alone would alleviate what madness he'd been enduring. But her teeth gritted to hiss back resisting to strangle that child to see sense, "How can you joke about what has happened to yourself! Are you truly mad, or just that stupid to think this is a game?"

The small boy looked over again smirking to cheekily mention, "All, or nothing, Alicia." There couldn't be a mistake made to hear him groan when shifting as bone cracked in response to flesh crumbling off most areas, "And that thing needed to shut it's damned mouth. It was giving me a headache, so I'm going to laugh at it...for a bit." He amended chortling weakly to wheeze out hoarsely much to her internal disbelief which refused to imagine how he'd coped, or rather would had broken to find it all humoring.

Just stop talking Marcos, stop talking or by the Holy Father, I'll do it myself! The armor tightened accordingly when liquid fell to see him quiet down. It appeared he looked over to stare intensively for several moments to ask with a rue grin, "You're crying? Grox shit...now, I know the Emperor really didn't listen to my prayers! Guess I'll have to perform some masses, or else I might regret something for once." His literal expression never ceased to either smirk, or smile much to her chests strengthening pain to see genuine, earnest and purest of convictions in faith to endure when most should have broken entirely.

But regardless a question arose rather curiously, "So who made it? Whose left?" Alicia looked out to see various korpsmen checking their dead, or soon to be fallen as her own fellow sisters glanced over plainly. Throne, I thought less would be on the ground somewhere. A familiar welcoming psychic presence resonated rather modestly, a truthful surprised to be so impressed just in having her smile grow partially. Wow, why are you thinking I'm dead Alicia...I'm not blind, so stop worrying over shit I had to get over with.

She physically trembled not out of despair, or fear but of a surreal disbelieving desire to laugh quietly. He again looked over raising an eyebrow, or lack one to smirk knowingly innocent when he'd failed entirely to keep them exasperated. Admit it, you want to punch my face in. Psyker, or not I can say I should have listened...a bit. Again another surreal sense of desire tore apart willingness to strangle him senseless, or shake her head to see a boy cope against horrors no man ever imagined in their worst of nightmares.

"Marcos for the love of our Emperor...be quiet, please!" She half begged and demanded unable to believe fully he'd taken an encounter to humor it so effortlessly. Fondness easily lead astray into poisonous hope as eyeless sockets, or perhaps something did remain within looked away willingly. Sorry, everything just seems...hard to remember and can't say it'll come back until...I'm dead, probably. An armored gauntlet shifted to gently place itself against a ruined cheek trying to convey understanding for himself, or risk further injuring him unintentionally yet he acquiesced to her word unable to hide an obvious growing anxiety.

Glancing around noticing the Kriegers were slowly getting back onto their feet did one corpse stand out among them. The sister of battle blinked to see several kneeling around one of their own whose chest cavity and abdomen were torn to literal shreds. Two others were in worse conditions save for one who placed a gloved hand on said chest head sharply lowered, Vectors zoomed to narrow on a lone detail among red crimson staining their uniforms, a chevron partially torn off and yet visibly clear to indicate Engel Adalwin...was killed in action. Alicia only stared to quickly see Marcos's face turn towards said direction uncharacteristically impassive save for a subtle change.

One fist clenched so tightly knuckles popped loudly causing flesh to turn an enraged white. The smirk in place solidified coldly indicating a hope destroyed among which many had never existed. Psychic pressure gradually built sending the stone wall he'd been laying against shaking, to be so close and yet seeing no signs proved unsettling when fire glowered anew within charred flesh. He needed not to psychically speak, or understand what had come to pass in some hidden fear which turned to hot potent hatred for beings not of their reality. It tore her internally to see someone who a boy had genuinely liked despite a man saying few words, Alicia blinked water realizing an irony of a Krieger master-sergeant had done what many never witnessed, to imprint impressions worthy of faithful conviction of action alone.

The boy violently twitched sporadically with jawline rigidly stern, unusually deliberate and far too impossible to ignore entirely. Psychic energy unseen built up to have him gnash teeth openly in a furious heave of expelled air, Alicia watched equally in sorrow and resignation to known such outcomes were only expected to have others endure. But what she didn't expect was a boy weakly throwing himself to grasp at dirt, to be pulling himself with bloodied fingers forward flailing to get several inches. He did it again, again and again without regard to flesh falling off an arm charred to blackened crispy angrily glowering in reddish orange.

"You...cheating...fecker!" She heard him growl furiously to throw himself forward kicking up dirt, or rock instinctively seeking purchase to move quicker. Bones openly cracked despite staring stoically unable to assist, or demand him to cease killing himself further. Yet despite having eyeless sockets bloodied streams dripped above a twisted smile of absolute fury, "...think...you won?" Marcos's wheezing voice laughed equally strained and freely sending a wave of grief masked in rage to have her gaze dip again out of grim resolve.

He kept moving reminiscent of those who'd worn masks in trenches never failing to go forward despite all obstacles. Will alone carried him slowly, gradually and that effort caused several korpsmen to look up seeing a deranged smile most pegged to be murderous. Yet one masked Krieger looked to another who gave a subtle nod, Alicia understood regardless of how little was spoken or seen to know they'd decided to act. Two got up stowing weapons to appear by his side, if only gently by their standards offering gloved hands which got accepted wordlessly.

The masked korpsmen were careful to avoid injuring a small boy who dangled limply between them to carry him without hesitation. She followed close behind seeing them carefully again placing him between several others of their kin who had heads lowered immediately. Most who'd accomplished in placing the dead in a secured location joined who remained, all in silence eternal and dedicated to doing what the Korps of Krieg did best. To move forward, to never retreat and they died for every step undertaken by those unable to feel fear itself.

Most call you freaks, inhumane and emotionless men. Alicia thought looking back to hear rumors, gossip and accounts of various storm-troopers who lay dead where they'd been slain. None of them had believed yet her faith renewed itself far stronger to see such sights in front, for none had despaired or lost themselves in grief but of solidified resolve, to know for each sacrifice gave more to show what always was needed. And yet you of all as son's of Krieg did something impossible. You all made a boy who says he can't care about others, who cannot trust those he fights...brought to tears because you proved him right.

Standing upright to stare over them all did his trembling broken hands grasp an overcoat tightly. His leering grin seemed murderously wicked, a twisted mockery of joy and yet streams of blackened crimson made all the more viciously enhanced. Yet he laughed tightly nearly biting down on a tongue swiftly, "...you cheated...fecker! You cheated!" He tried to shaking a corpse yet could only barely remain upright hissing again, "Cheated me! Oh, you...fecking good one, real joke you thought I didn't laugh my ass off at you...fecking masked grox shit!"

None kneeling seemingly reacted save for one korpsmen looking towards another who moved hands peace onto sides with a subtle nod. Each Krieger stood far above a small boy who'd barely reached their waistlines yet one placed a gloved hand onto his relatively good shoulder firmly. He trembled openly to freeze momentarily to shudder refusing to let go initially. Their unyielding silence alone conveyed unseen answers, for none spoke openly and yet all had heads lowered possibly invoking prayer, or reciting what made their unyielding resolve unbroken.

"In life, war..." Marcos's cynical amusement could be heard audibly in being fractionally forced, "In death, peace..." He whispered in conjunction with various Kriegers who'd been performing their litany of sacrifice, "In life, shame..." Blooded droplets still fell past an ever growing smile which signified a mixture of hateful consideration to know the final cost of their ways, "In death, atonement." He finished quietly to look over marginally seeing a gloved hand of the korpsmen who nodded mutely in response approvingly.

But unknowingly did he cheekily joke sardonically pleased, "Only in death, does duty end." Several korpsmen shook in clear amusement to reach over to place hands ruffling his head in small shows of genuine displays. Alicia blinked trying to dispel surreal nonrecognition unable to imagine how, or even what a boy such as him managed to fit in among them without effort. If he weren't an outsider to them, she'd may have prayed he'd have been with them and that alone proved far too grim to realize he'd have died quickly regardless.

Sacrifice is always the price we all must pay, one way or another, Marcos. She gently walked among the surviving korpsmen to kneel beside him reach outward to touch Engel's still corpse. Her eyes saw only a mask with eye-sockets blackened yet that hid enough providing peace alone. Placing an armored hand over her breast plate and closing her gaze gathering faithful will. As she'd prayed making all look towards herself akin to divine reverence, "Praise our Emperor, he who watches and guides us, to grant peace and rest to loyal sons of your Imperium who give their lives in service to safeguard those who cannot stand without your wisdom ordained."

Every living human around her formed an aquilla all too naturally keeping their thoughts clean and purified to listen faithfully. While not an orator Alicia did attempted to emulate greater passions of faithful figures, "Your sons do not falter, they do retreat and they never shy away from what is required of them to uphold your divinity among these darkened stars. For you are the light, you are eternal and we seek your grace to give these Sons of Krieg a place when they come to stand before you at their ends. For we mourn not of grief, not of despair but hateful vengeance to send your enemies back to damnation where they shall always remain."

No noise disturbed her save for breathing within masks, or a seething boy who kept his mouth tightly compacted. The sister continued to proclaim solemnly resolved, "And never shall your sons fail you in our darkest of hours. Praise the Emperor, for we are the weapons holy of purpose, pure of taint and none shall stand against humanity's rightful place among these stars. For the Emperor protects and we shall endure, praise his name." All made a fresh aquilla when Marcos whispered for those who never speak verbally until ordered too, "For the Emperor."

The sister of battle's rare holy litany completed finally chose to stand back up as the small boy knelt there silently gritting teeth. She let him have several minutes thinking in granted silence before gently pulling him upward, "Our task and mission are completed, Marcos. We cannot linger when your wounds need to be...addressed, or taken care back on the Inquisitor's vessel. Praise the Emperor for granting you strength, courage and achieving when all considered you lost to the daemon's will. You did as well as anyone expected, so please...let it go."

She expected a denial, or some sort of lashing out which wouldn't be entirely surprisingly considering his trial of enduring. Yet shock filtered when he laughed lowly, "Yeah, I get it. Death is death." His fingers released blood soaked cloth exhaling tiredly to smile far too calmly, "Can't do shit if everything's fecked to a point where daemons exist, so better find me a better shiv and cut a bastard down quicker next time. Emperor knows it's what I'm good at, somewhat." Aside from crass and crude words she couldn't place a lie to know it'd been just earnest truth, an admission and the boy wasn't as foolishly misleading intentionally given what an Inquisitor's assumptions pinpointed earlier to make it reasonably certain.

Staring intensively she'd noticed his fist clenching frequently when easily hoisting him to walk, or partially lean against an exterior armor. It still seemed unsettling to see how calm he'd been acting gradually, if only just putting minimal effort despite suffering horrendous trauma and injury that would have killed most men outright. He'd in a span of short time ceased moaning, fidgeting and shivering to speak weakly entirely. Suspicion all too readily arose when a less an amused smirk kept growing when they moved back across a ruined square. She'd known when lies he's mention, or truth intentional spoken had melded back together to have insight to gauge, Marcos was reverting into a normalized outlook.

Again his relatively uninjured fist clenched consistently when a detail became apparently clearer and clearer. A subtle gloom of green escaped to have her heart seize when his eyeless gaze looked upward smirking, "What?" He questioned innocently sending alarm coursing to have strength waning into internal panic to realize he'd intentionally sounded as such, "What? You worried about this of all things, Alicia?"

His palm casually turned over revealing an internal stone glowing and swirling coloration to have her freeze out of sheer shock. That smile turned coldly towards off to their right were rubble amounted due to structures collapsing, "Oh great, what wonderful timing...Esdainn! Now you show up?" Before the sister of battle could even question, or demand a myriad of damning answers did the boy shake his head exhaustively to stiffen appropriately. Alicia blinked once only to see a glinting metallic orb leisurely tossed in front of themselves.

Before realizing it'd been explosive of any kind a flash of light and near odorless gases shot outwards dosing them in misty fog. A shriek of damning volume, horrors of images and near maddening agony coursed into a nervous system sending every human save for one to their knees. Amiss unspeakable terrors enforced by foreign psychic will, she'd struggled through blurred vision to see only a child standing beside her sighing visibly irritated. And the last thing she saw fluently was a boy only shaking his head smiling sardonically amused.


I smiled genuinely furious to hear muffled screaming reappear fully when it'd been peacefully quiet and undeniably welcomed. Yet I looked over see a hunched over sister encased in power armor, I smiled partially apologetic and somewhat tiredly knowing Alicia wasn't going to be happy. But I was prepared when noticing an almost surreal shroud descending leisurely when the daemon and Chaos's taint had been eradicated. Not one korpsmen, Sororita or even Tartarus who fell out of some vehicle struggling to stand and fell biting a tongue possibly to try to withstand Esdainn's near inhumane ability to make Chaos's influence comparably.

Really Esdainn? I psychically conveyed to a silver masked xeno psyker who seemingly drifted among korpsmen idly swatting them aside in natural boredom. It'd been observing ever since I'd come around and I honestly found it infuriating no one else noticed said xeno literally right behind most. I knew it'd come around, but to do so quickly? It had a cruel sense of humor eerily similar to that Masque which I prayed took centuries to show it's face again. If it came back, I'd tear off the head and stuff pluck those eyes out for equal vengeance.

The silver masked psyker leisurely sent every korpsmen screaming and rolling around desperate to claw off their own masks. Yet it'd made no move to kill them when I stared coldly warning it soundly as fingers ceased to lift themselves. Don't you dare kill them, or I break your little friend's glass home with some heat and effort. I still got enough to do it, so don't push it fecking xeno. It moved past without hesitation only replying equally dismissive in my own tone relatively unperturbed to hear an earnest truth.

Why spill inferior blood of creatures who completed their purpose, Marcos? I followed wordlessly clenching my fist channeling what little psychic will to do what I intended. Tremors beneath us rocked stumbling men, or women aside to have them fall caught in perceptive hellish nightmares only this xeno effectively conjured and maintained almost inhumanely. Rock and earth molded upward blockading any attempt of interference, or capable possibility to get a bolt round shot towards said masked xeno who stood in front of a bloodied fountain. Corpses drifted, or fell slumping over giving it a gruesome reminder of Chaos's presence.

"Says a superior being who just watched and thinks it deserves more." I retorted seeing the warp brighter than beforehand to see streams, or trickling bends of the Immaterium coursing through and outward of Esdainn's near luminescent figure. Alicia believed I was blind, or I'd thought I'd been too save for a small detail in witnessing gradual clearance to see the warp itself. It was calmer, quieter and far more stabilized to make psychic will somewhat easier to think about somewhat, if for a lack of daemonic creatures.

The xeno stood far above myself let continued observing human corpses almost curiously, "Idiots." I mentioned to sway partially light headed as it agreed verbally, "Indeed. Your kind woefully embrace Chaos naturally, it is quite...expected." Again it sounded equally bored, or less than impressed to have my laugh hoarsely make it tilt a silver mask relatively amused, "I get it! We're a big joke, you're a huge dick and Chaos is fecking grox shit."

Again this damned xeno hardly laughed, or remotely hinted to feeling less than bemused. Yet it replied relatively agreeing, "Crude, as I've noted." Unlike previous interactions I freshly remembered Esdainn seemed far more lax as if it'd been decided, or humored my presence for the sake of complying to our little mutual agreement of hatred. It's surreal, a xeno keeping it's word and me humoring to not send a shiv into your third rib. Emperor help me, I know I'm damned one way, or another if I'm laughing about it.

Esdainn's silver mask only returned to stare not even willing to mention psychically, or verbally finding my laugh full of exasperation. I faced more than damnation once everything ended, if anything I'd probably be put to death since Alicia saw ample context to know something amiss. But I refused to give into despair as I'd known, if only hoped that the Emperor hadn't abandoned myself entirely. I barely remembered what had happened in a haze, or equal dreams which were either nightmare and reality blended to make thinking back too difficult to manage.

"Ah, feck it!" I muttered lifting up a palm to use charred fingers to pluck out a glowing green stone and instantly fell forward since it'd been psychically sustaining myself. Pain hardly seemed to matter since everything, hurt and it was just one massive shock to feel nothing responsive. But I shifted grudgingly to hiss out to lean just partially against a fountains ruined wall, I almost passed out except to feel incredibly light headed. Okay, what a great idea...fecking throne!

Gruelingly leaning up to limply go against cold stone, I looked over exhaustively to see Esdainn's form within the warp look over myself simply. Ironically it looked beautiful, if only in a way I'd never imagined as coloration literally oozed and mixed in near perfected control. Yet it wasn't human! So I scoffed weakly see tendrils effortlessly maintaining a grander shroud which blended among mist and I realized it'd been honed to sow terror. Terror, nightmares and never did anyone have a chance because they couldn't see how unworldly it'd been entirely.

"Perhaps the most rightful observation you've made, mon'keigh." Smugness partially seeped to have my eyes roll when it'd sensed genuine awe. Rolling a green glass stone idly I wheezed out tiredly, "Any chance you have something to make this better?" I smirked cheekily to have it again respond relatively uninterested, "No. Your desire has burned within, for you gave your word and I upheld what I would decree."

Lightly chuckling when the warp flickered did I call out a lie all too knowingly, "You're full of grox shit, Esdainn." I wouldn't doubt this xeno had some sort of concoction to do me a favor, or anything mostly out of will since it'd expected me to die. And yet I was still breathing, barely but alive to at least have it humor in being wrong. But the masked psyker just refused to hear it's own shit, I considered breaking the stone which grew gradually responded angrily.

"You sure you're not going to do a little favor..." I tried again briefly until it knelt down sharply brandishing a dagger like blade and literally gouged my charred arm. Rasping out a scream did it slice deliberately down a bicep past charred flesh, muscle and nimbly reached downward to dig deep to have my nerves flare into hellish reaction. I almost vomited when a small pinch sent my eyes flashing with lights and blurred spots to see something undeniably cruel.

Esdainn had plucked one flickering orange ember which glowered strongly and it was but a speck of matter. Yet the entire warp funneled around it being broiled open, "No." The xeno stated less than unimpressed to gently place said ember in some sort of pouch, or a tiny watered glass when clicking it underneath some compartment on a belt. The warp shined brightly leaving it facing my own half alive expression and I knew what it'd wanted most.

Cold chills ran up my back regardless to have me wince since it left an open wound, "...ow." I looked exhausted possibly to mutter grinning, "You're a fecking dick." Darkness crept dangerously creeping from peripherals when pain and sheer volume of recognizable sensations were making my body utterly shut down out naturally. Simply put, I couldn't continue coping with what limitation since the Immaterium had ignored such harsh reality, it'd bent will to reign above nature and yet this felt far more humane to know I still retained sanity.

However psychic will still coursed to keep only conscious through sheer effort, if only just barely to smirk weakly. Esdainn, you expected me to be ash. I conveyed amused to see a xeno tilt that silver mask which seemed glowing and swirling with psychic might far more potent that I'd ever seen so close. The warp practically trembled if only by constant control to hear it sound slightly impressed, if out of humor mainly. Yes, for inferior blood and will cannot stand against She Who Thirsts, so what is needed was done. For you knew this, a price to be paid and it was no loss, either way save for what the tool is molded upon, if only but useful.

Rolling the green stone I leered to lean back panting to feel every inch of battle finally, "So...why not keep said tool capable?" The masked psyker only replied less than indifferent to have me chortle silently, "Because what use is a tool, if not for one purpose when the one who molds it sees no use to do what was required? Useful you were, but no longer, for lingering is what your fate has sealed and as such, no need of I for you." That sounded cold given it'd been lying to my face since there wasn't any way for this xeno to expect I'd survive breathing. It just didn't care for anything save for what it deemed as priority, I could relate in hindsight yet there wasn't a chance for it to willingly to lower itself to admit said answer.

Didn't you say destiny and fate are two different things, for one leads to another and you do realize someone can skim a corner? Again the masked xeno replied with an indifference bordering on impatience for it'd tolerated questions long enough. No, mon'keigh. Do not seek what is no longer your inferior senses hope, for hope is irrelevant as you now lay dying in the desires which consumed you whole. Destiny leans upon fate, for the web of fate is clear and I care not, of your pity whether you endured, I seek what makes billions of your kin pale in comparison and you shall adhere to your word...which is foolishly misplaced.

I stared right where eyes on this creature should have been yet only a glimmering mask when the warp started trembling. The psychic build up didn't need to be felt by a psyker, I knew it'd end everyone and slit my throat since so few for something too important made it honest. Exhaling tiredly to feel temptation to sleep and inevitably succumb to death finally got my palm to remain open, "...ah feck, deal's a deal, Esdainn. You sure you can't admit it, but deal's are like a shiv hidden. You think you got an angle, to get a jab in and someone's got the shiv right at your rib...so, here's your shiv." I offered the glowing green stone to have it nimbly pluck out without hesitation, I didn't move or react when that glowering dagger came within my throat.

Enjoy your fate, little monster. It psychically mentioned standing upward to inspect whatever resided inside and turned away casually. The cloak it wore shifted when gusts of nature made almost seem surreal. I can see why you xeno are devious fecks, you lead someone one way and stick them because they can't see what shiv is innocently placed. Shame, I think it's a good thing. Everything planned, done and the job pays for itself without doing a bit of work.

The masked psyker refused to reply considering it'd been intentionally killing me seriously. Yet it figured there wasn't any needed too, I'd done what it could have done. But why waste blood when an idiot could do it for you, if only keeping said idiot just pointed in the said direction. I gave it credit, I'd done the same and yet unlike Esdainn...I had one thing which made it insufferably arrogant. It didn't check all my pockets, if I'd been standing above someone who thought they were capable to pull one over myself. It was a crucial lesson back home to check pockets, for you'd never know what shiv lay in waiting.

I patiently waited until it was just far enough to hear me, "Esdainn!" I called out knowingly coy to innocently smile, "You sure you don't want to lend a hand?" The masked psyker paused sensing my smugness but refused to turn, or speak in any way. Whistling a tune of an idiot who'd just been told by someone considered less, "Well, well, well. Is a xeno worried, or perhaps are you pretending to think because you like games?"

My hand dipped to tear off a shredded chest pockets top as I grinned cruelly pleased, "I like games. Because sometimes it's not the shiv on hand that gets blood, it's sometimes the one someone thinks they know is on hand." Psychic will built up to encase one hand in flames as I channeled everything I held to innocently curl around an ever bright, flashing and warm green stone. Unlike that other one which was someone I wouldn't fight straight up, I'd think to imagine the lesser of two could make one really hate being fecked over.

"It'd be a real fecking shame if someone, you know...just knows not to break some glass with some heat." I remarked grinning to enjoy a sinister sensation when psychic will within said stone thrummed panicked because it'd known I'd destroy it. The masked psyker turned rigidly making the warp around us quaking yet made no move to act which I made it clear, "You even twitch, or I see you fecking try to use psychic power? I'll fecking break this piece of shit, you know I will and I doubt you really want to piss me off for someone listening."

Esdainn's mask lowered fractionally when raw psychic might alone amassed in my hand as I kept it tightly wrapped. You won't help out, then feck you xeno. I conveyed cruelly appreciative of what I'd probably do, if only I wasn't fighting to save my skin then I'd have liked it. I'll just help myself to taking something worth billions of lives, think it's a fair trade because you'd walk over us to reach it. But not me, I'll walk over your corpse and only the Emperor knows how far I'll make you wish blood was easy to spill.

Staring smugly to see every aspect of the warp shimmering, trembling and it looked as if someone was equally angry. I tightened my grip naturally calling out, "Ah! Don't!" I warned playfully noticing increasing shimmering to innocently smile rather pleased, "You like games, I like games." The xeno was unnaturally still staring behind a mask when it refused to risk what I'd suspected was something of incredible value, "You fecked me over, I feck you over. Sounds like we have something in common, I can only wonder how?"

Warmth from within a glowing green stone kept consistently pace which the silver mask could notice rather simply. So whose going to gamble, all or nothing? One meager human you'd allow billions for one, or do you risk everything for something so inconsequential? I conveyed smugly allowing flames to form ever potently obvious, I leered arrogantly smug to know the shiv it'd believed hidden was right on a throat all too easily. If it tried entering my mind, I shatter this damned stone, if it moved without my approval I'd crush it and if the psyker tried anything else to those screaming behind us I'd see it, if just to have it suffer for trying to kill those I cared most.

"Let's play." I whispered well enough to provoke what few considered madness yet I needed the laugh now more than ever, "Damned if you, damned if you don't! The clown that laughs, the fool who smiles and so which is the real joke?" I joked innocently pleased to coyly hum all too patiently much to a rigid xeno who probably never understood humor. Humor, or not I certainly got a throne inspired desire to laugh and I let it consume me all too happily.

The silver mask fractionally moved clearly enough to showcase a broiling rage matching any daemon previously. My smile hurt from splitting cheeks yet by the Emperor laughing was too damned impossible to resist. Who's shiv strikes first, one who thinks they got one or the one whose hiding in plain sight, Esdainn? Prove me wrong, or prove me right...what is my life to billions which you would walk over for something worth more? The Emperor protects, but blood is blood and you really don't want to fecking play a game you'd win, right? I thought psychically each word churning an unseen shiv right into the third rib making a xeno's silence far too rewarding, if it'd dared to assume I'd kill it'd be right and I highly doubted it'd want to risk everything for nothing.

The warp shuddered dangerously when I laughed right in the face of a clown who'd thought of myself as a joke in all likelihood. Daemons, xeno or human I'd make them all wish killing me were a mercy and I had every reason to hate them equally. But people I hated more, if only due to the fact I never found xeno's to reach that point. Yet it was close, so close and ironically Chaos took myself to hate them for pissing me off entirely.

You are meddling with fate. The psyker with a mask stated emotionless ceasing to have every inch of warp cooling considerably. No, I know my fate is to be damned. I'm just cutting corners to make it wish, it'd gotten to me sooner. I retorted far too happily to considered sane yet it hadn't moved an inch as per my unseen warning. But of all things I expected Esdainn trembled openly as I stared intrigued to realize it'd been laughing incredibly. To smile when seeing fate, does one laugh knowing it is but the joke, or is the one who jokes smiling because it is only to laugh? You know not, of forces gathering and shadow of webs determine destiny, if only to see fate's humor, mon'keigh.

I shrugged knowing it'd been equally livid and astonished to hear me reply, "Human." My playful attitude certainly made enough of an impression for someone as a pleasant warmth started trickling within a palm. Looking over subtly did a faint heat burn as I inhaled reflexively to see the glowing stone sinking into flesh. What the feck? I questioned undeniably disturbed when an over abundance of warmth and serene amusement filled my psyche, I got blinded sided when my voice altered unwillingly to speak loudly.

Peering upward to see green light folding and molding next to my torn leg I watched in stunned disbelief to see a figure emerge. Similarly to Esdainn's form it looked far too different to be what whatever it'd been possibly. Robes of white with iconography embedded on armor, bone white and held traces of a soothing red with a face looking fondly warmly pleased. I couldn't resist but whispering the only natural word to give this creature credit, "Beautiful." Eyes narrowed rather bemused with near flaming red hair framing a face no human, or any person could deny looked other worldly save for how alien it'd appeared.

Triangular shapes molded in golden with several protrusions angled around some sort of central blue gem on robes of gentle white. And who in the Emperor's name are you supposed to be? I wondered shaking my head unbelievably to have it smile again, if only to make a shushing motion as if it'd been an expected question. The spectral hand dipped to lightly move over searching for something it had seen, or believed to smile surprisingly smug. It looked upward towards Esdainn who hadn't moved still save for observing.

My mouth opened to hear musical melodies and there wasn't any way to describe it save for feeling numbed. Esdainn replied similarly to gesture flippantly saying one word I recognized, "Mon'keigh?" It sounded amused, or frustrated to sharply retort to whatever puppeteer sharply rebuking by glaring partially astonished. The warp curled briefly to match an overt broiling shimmer as a silver masked xeno argued sharply yet again.

It became surreal to look between two xenos who were speaking in a language that defied dreams and I almost passed out truthfully. One who knelt thundered akin to a whip striking Esdainn who jerked aside gesturing angrily demanding, "Isha." It the only other word I understood in a smug, if not approving tone to lightly place a hand over my chest's battered vest. It pointed to tap much to Esdainn who looked down quickly and back to the possibly half alive, or projection of whatever lay inside that glowing stone which brightly burned.

Despite psychic pressure it didn't hurt, or attempt to make wounds open further save for a sense of peace to lean backward. Two amethyst color iris's narrowed fondly amused as it returned with an ever serene stare of knowing towards Esdainn's masked facial expression. What are you xenos? I questioned seriously considering madness had been a sweeter fate, if death wasn't going to make me wish for it then I'd imagine insanity seemed worse off. Yet I never got an answer save for the spectral projection again only tapping a specific location confidently.

There was a sly edge to one who used myself as a means to speak laughing rather amusingly. Esdainn replied coldly unimpressed to chortle, yet I had an impression to imagine it'd been dared too. But somehow that smile the xeno's projection gave off promised only mischief. However it hadn't moved only to look towards my gaze gauging appropriately, "Feck if I know what it's saying!" I whispered tiredly not even wishing to go through a migraine as the masked psyker approached finally after shaking it's head merely.

Esdainn came to stand opposite staring right where another mischievous smile warmed inclining an unseen initiative. The mask only kept gaze briefly before a familiar dagger brandishing expertly sliced clothe aside quickly, I flinched since it wasn't cold at all. Raising a glove to gently prob over flesh did I gasp feeling psychic energy of lightning crackling and I twitched trying to squirm away when it ceased immediately. It sharply spoke back quickly gesturing above to undeniable loathing, if only out of sheer exasperation to narrow words angrily.

"Mon'keigh!" That word resonated filling the warp to shudder and tremble once as a spectral projection replied with my voice. There was no underlying certainty, if only of humor and there was an audible switch to cold quick words. Hand gestures were made when two delicate fingers were together before widening, Esdainn countered harshly waving a hand in circular motions as the warp trembled to send even my prone form tingling in warning. Yet that spectral projection formed a triangular shape of sorts to mold into one stern finger raised, I found myself struck underneath two xenos who were either arguing or scolding another.

This went on rapidly for an entire minute before Esdainn finally ceased speaking entirely to stare coldly into my bewildered expression. Maybe I should have just held onto it, I fecking hate you too. Nothing made sense to imagine perhaps holding onto said stone would have gave me sanity, if at least peace mind for a while. Another trade of words momentarily left me groaning tiredly to see that spectral xeno in white robes smile gently undeterred, "Throne! Emperor damn me, I think daemons are far more easier to understand then you two fecks!"

Eventually one hand full of warm undeniably settled where the sliced cloth exposed bruised blue and deepening purple. It said one word somewhat recognizable, "Isha." There was a lingering pause between them as Esdainn placed a curling fist underneath its own chin. It stared long, quiet and pondering to see an ever serene smile forming towards an equal smugness as though daring to question said word. The entire surrounding warp them utterly fluctuated tremendously, as psychic wills matched each other especially when tendrils of pure cynic coloration arose, briefly before settling down in an ample display of willing discipline.

My urge to sleep grew stronger considering I inhaled harder to get a jolt of fire making awareness finally. Esdainn verbally graced dulled hearing to snicker, "You entangle yourself in ignorance, mon'keigh. The webs of fate damn you further, if only to make destiny joke to your whims of terrible consequences." There was obvious bemusement not out of anger, disgust or hate but mere pity of earnest cynical proportions. Either the xeno loathed my entirety, or merely found it a fascinating difference to push boundaries of madness.

Leisurely in smooth motions Esdainn began pulling off gloves where trinkets glowered partially to settle them neatly on its side. They were similar to another whose beauty show cased awe, but they were thinner in detail yet smooth and far more paler to hold tinted darkened nails which were deliberately pointed. One nail traced over where exposed flesh met electric shocks, "You meddle in shadows best left undisturbed, for they reveal the truth and dangers no human will accept, if only just to make their cries sweeter...to hear." I gulped visibly since there was ever natural cruelty no human replicated, I felt more inclined to imagine daemons were kinder for this xeno wasn't lying to my internal horror.

Throne...what the feck in the Emperor's name are you, Esdainn? The lone digit deceptively traced upwards searching for a detail, or sign when that pointed tip alone could cut through tender flesh with adrenaline surging. It paused pressing inward to make my rasp of air escape when retracting said limb predatory, or rather gleefully fascinated. Around the masked psyker what was once a pale blue darkened into a murky wafted similar to Chaos's taint, I had shivers running up my neck as hair stood up when it'd traced eyeless sockets.

"Emperor...shit." I whispered seeing it tilt a mask deceptively off to the side revealing an almost hungered cruel grin to send my soul chilled, "It's too late for you, child." No mask of using my own voice could make me regret more when it sounded so delightfully intrigued, "You walk among shadows, ones not willing to relinquish those who disturb them. And you have tempted yourself to go where few dared, or can never imagine, far too unexpectedly."

I gnashed both teeth to know that familiar feeling of when I'd been lead on almost too easily. The masked psyker nimbly reached outward to take a dagger to trace patterns beneath my chin. It toyed where to strike, as if debating and that blackened mist kept oozing out of Esdainn to such a degree to consumed everything save for a yellowish green spectral form smiling down deceivingly pleased to have my heart race. Oh feck you...xeno, I wish I should have smashed your glass stone the moment I picked it up!

The projection fondly smiled making me snarl to as a slight nick of pain withdrew with Esdainn's dagger tip. Crimson stained to realize it either planned everything, or I'd just conveniently should have listened to it entirely. Another limb gently pulled a small object where shining light glimmered among the darkened warp's exterior. It held it up as lightning crackled deviously writhing and squirming around when the dagger's tip dipped into mixing said glimmering lights into an ugly darkened black near red.

"Talk about...sly as shit!" I whispered hatefully to hear Esdainn cruelly laugh gently as while stirring some strange concoction deliberately assertive. Gently placing the dagger down were psychic glowing wisps shrouded themselves, I saw it merge with another subtle line and what I'd know entirely ceased to exist. The masked psyker rippled into detail shimmering revealing an extreme feminine figure as it eerily mirrored another opposite of itself smiling kindly. Both were so alike yet so different and they equally saw opportunity to have me regret it.

Another small object thin in appearance injected pulsating liquid as said coloration turned an ugly stain of twisted purple, red and black. It rotated said within spinning hypnotically unlike another small crackling of psychic lightning glowered into a darkening gold. I will kill you, Esdainn. I swore involuntarily to fidget as it ceased spinning, but overwhelming warmth suppressed twitching muscle, or limbs trying in vain to squirm away. The xeno never replied save for reaching upwards to gently pressing some sort of device to make a mask lurch slightly.

It came off with just a subtle hiss of air escaping as I stared transfixed to see Esdainn's face without obstruction. Emperor...help me. Haughty beautiful features subtly glowing within the warp revealed a cruel superior smile widening pleased. Two xenos one dead, or alive shared common details each held an unnatural presence equally damning and chilling considering they'd been so similar at first glance to enrapture lies of plain sight. Both while one seemed a picture innocence to device those into relatively peace, another held the truth to make my gnashing teeth chattering when seeing a sheen of yellow glinting.

Pitch black hair fell loosely to frame cruelty in a manner worthy of damning realization as I heard her speak without issue, "There are forces you have caught wind off, human. Forces within most that defy even your Imperium, I enjoy you stumbling into those who lavish it and it is far too kind of you, to tell I so sweetly to not oblige." It hadn't spoken in my voice, or even of it's own tongue yet a cruel tantalizing form of high gothic effortlessly. The damned xeno hadn't been stupid, it'd been plotting far more intensively to use me as a means to it's end. Nothing else made more sense, nothing could and I bared teeth wishing I smashed both of these stones.

"What...are you!" I hissed words to have the haughty xeno cruelly tease a smile as its sharpened nail leisurely tapped against my neck again. But Esdainn had her smile fold into a leering grin exposing sharpened teeth which sent a heart racing in panic, "Your prayer which has been answered." A sinister gleam of amusement happened to reveal it'd never tell willingly, for it'd thrived on cruelty and leaned forward gradually taking in every detail. Tipping the small object into her mouth never once losing that deviously bemused smirk, in total panic alone I squirmed trying once more to shake off an equally cruel will.

Then you better pray, I never see you again or Emperor have me! I'll slit that throat of yours! I seethed psychically when it gently and deliberately pinched a nose forcing lips to deliver damnation. No amount of will, or hatred broke another equally cruel smile which hid itself in plain sight as warmth kept limbs stilled. So sweet of you, to be so kind. Perhaps you should learn, I may just...enjoy to hear you scream again soon enough.

Warmth inevitably fell past numbed muscle to slither further where my heart beat frantically as Esdainn pull herself away. Small red droplets attempted to escape darkened lips yet were licked away naturally with a smirk cruelly framing pleased intentions. My eyes fluttered strangely heavy to see it softly trace battered flesh aside far too kindly. It whispered mockingly kind to savor what it'd hungered to possibly due to temptations, "Sleep, child. You have earned your place, little monster and one day we shall see if your kindness can be...enjoyed fully."

The cold laughter echoed as my will faltered to blink once onto oncoming darkness. Warmth solidified to send my last thoughts into unseen comfort, vision blurred and coloration molded together in one beautiful display of deceptive innocence. And my limbs went limp leaving me to endure alone once again. I only wished that the Emperor had heard me cry out, but I regretted knowing he'd only listen to those worthy of attention.

End Chapter XXIV

Author's note: My, my, my. The thing about tricks, is that they often come in the smallest of things. It's not about what you see firsthand, it's seeing what lays beneath to make your skin crawl when you catch that glimpse. And it makes you question one thing, what is happening to make you tingle in warnings? Everything has a reason, whether you chose to ignore it, or willingly stumbled into the worst of truths. Think about every thing which has occurred, Esdainn is an Eldar, yes as everyone obviously assumed...but the what hell would make a craft-world Eldar associate with a human, or rather humor when they've seen them firsthand to know yet it begs an answer.

The answer is, it wouldn't and I'd doubt unless they were forced together...hence the interactions. So, that leaves something far more cruel, revealing and the true face of the Eldar as a whole. Their true mask unveiled as you noticed, Eldar are not human by any stretch of the means. This is what they are, plotters, scheming, devious and earnestly do not give a damn about lower beings until they notice useful measures to make them, as they'd say: 'Worthy enough' to catch their eye whether you know it or not, they're alien and I love to make people scream when I contrast the truth measure of their ability to effortlessly toy with most. And the irony is Marcos definitively did a solid to 'attempt' to box an Eldar into a corner, he did it pretty well.

But there are some creatures who do not view being cornered as dangerous, they're heinous enough to make that box your box. And here's the last trick I am revealing to you readers, do not and I do not think for one second this kid is all knowing. He's not, he's only doing what any person would do and you see the possibilities of dangers within the Imperium's most unseen functions that will make you realize one thing: This is a Grim Dark universe, kindness is subjective to the relative hell humans encounter on a scale I'd never be able to imagine. And boy, oh boy...our little boy of a character just happens to encounter the most terrible of things that even daemons seem relatively kinder, if only barely.

So what does it all mean, you'd ask? Figure it out, assumptions and thoughts, clues are there but it's on you to interpret them. You say glimpses, the warp is a dimension rift of dreams, metaphors and anything which can be real...as they'd say, everyone has their personal daemons and hells to contend with. Add that sheer contradiction made real, with how many beings in said galaxy? Well, I'd go mad trying to imagine a number alone. But speaking about the warp, what the hell you'd ask me about that curse of gifts.

The Prince of Excess is by no means a sane, or kind creature...it's vanity is so extreme I'd doubt I'll be able to do it justice. But that is equally as damning, if you literally anger it enough and by the Emperor...Marcos kind of pulled it off with his attitude to remain true to the Emperor. Curses and sorcery from what I gather, they're real and they don't go away unless said caster is killed, rescinds said incantation or the one cursed breaks the hold through sheer psychic will. And well, if Slaanesh is anything it's not a forgiving creature who views time as subjective material, if I'm wording it right considerably. Gods of Chaos, really powerful entities that few even dare to go against without losing their souls...mainly.

Cursed gifts, pay attention to what it said, to what Esdainn mentions and you get the pieces to really see something terrible to have you really doubt all the 'main' views we tend to see in Warhammer 40,000. It seems so glossed over, so simple yet we all know that grim dark...there's a light at the end of a tunnel as they say, but the light's distance can be very misleading to a lot of people relatively. I'm hoping a lot of Hard-Core fans who know a lot more, do point out the issues and offer their critique to just...see what's off, what's good, what's really shocking and incredibly devious to capture the lesser known but supposed common understanding of creatures who break human will.

And the Eldar/Slaanesh connection here is this! Do you really think these two races are...questionably different? When the ones in the webway in that city of horror, is really the true Eldar face of Old? And the Craft-World cousins smile kindly, offer you advice, to show you ways and assist you...when they're the very things who don't hide what they are honestly? I'm just being a cruel bastard, to showcase a point that people need to understand in which this chapter reveals a lot of dangers among reality and you need to say...what the hell are you seeing honestly? It's not new, it's old things people forget and I see plenty of it, on days I'd rather not wish to go back too yet I see it regardless.

Believe me I have a hell of a time writing, I love it and this is the best way I convey lessons everyone can learn. Not because I enjoy suffering, hell or do it to see how far I can push the truth of madness. I do it, because I care enough about people in my own way and you really don't want to find yourself seeing something far worse outside of this story. Like I said, I care enough and I love doing what I do, but remember this story is not ending. I'll do my best to finish it up, maybe do a sequel where we really see how the Imperium is going to face what we see in 8th Edition.

I will admit one thing, if I can this story into the events of the 8th Edition, or end of 7th with Cadia? Let's just say Marcos is going to be very, very uniquely known to several figures and he might just...have a way, to really get some bad news. Or maybe the Inquisition will actually, 'cooperate' with a Defacto-Emperor who I'd imagine would view this kid, as something useful. But those are just blind ambitions, so take no fear of it and we'll find out eventually in who knows amount of time, if I'm lucky enough to enjoy the days I got to write these things out.

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