Authors Note: Hello and thank you for your interest in my story. I primarily wrote it for fun and primarily wrote the story around it. So I haven't taken too much mind on who could beat who, only what would be most interesting.
Please tolerate any bad grammar. I try my best to read and edit the story but I might have let a few things slip.
I have taken the liberties of writing the feats I could remember from reading the books Mephiston appeared on. It may not be a complete list and I may have forgotten a few but they are some of the most outstanding of his. I primarily do this due to the difficulty it would be trying to find actual feats without reading 50 hours of material. Palpatine is easier as he has featured in movies, games, and TV shows showing a glimpse of his ability. There are also Youtube videos that will give their opinions on his capabilities.
Again I very much could have gotten things wrong. If you feel like this could have gone another way, then that's all right. I merely hope I have made an enjoyable read.
P.S. Yes, Mephiston could have instantly frozen time and made this a very short story. I just wanted to write about two all-powerful wizards duking it out.
Warning: Possible spoilers for the Mephiston trilogy.
Scrolling preambles
(Galactic war erupts)
The Empire finds a wormhole into a new universe. When they find another Human empire in chaos, Emperor Palpatine orders a mass military invasion.
Vast armadas of star destroyers were sent in mass. Large battle groups using superior speed and numbers to overwhelm the Imperial Navy. Taking entire sectors under Empire rule.
Yet not all is easy in the Galactic war.
Great strain is put on the Empire's logistical network. All conquered territories were rife with rebellion and pirate raids. No valuable resources could be mined and leaving the resource-hungry war machine of the Empire starved. Critical, lighting fast strikes by imperial forces are crippling the war effort. Risking the momentum of the war to halt and all captured territory collapse.
Thus the Emperor leads an Armada of ships and the death star to Terra. Hoping to decapitate the Imperium once and for all. Yet there is hope, Strike teams of Marines have boarded the mobile battle station led by Lord Dante of the Blood angels. One such force is led by Mephiston in an assassination attempt on Emperor Palpatine.
(A mission that could decide the fate of Galaxies.)
The echo of ceramite boots reverberated on the halls of the monstrous warship. The roar of bolters and revving of chain swords sang as hulking red armored warriors cut through all opposition. Leaving a trail broken and white armored soldiers littered their wake.
One of their heavy weapons crew was setting up their weapon that would rip through an Astartes war plate. A lieutenant marked it as a priority target. The blood angels renewed their assault but more of this Empire's storm troopers pressed them. Slowing their approach and giving the gun crew the time they needed.
They aimed to put one of the angels in their sight but before they could fire, both men were wrenched from their position by an invisible force. Flung up like puppets attached to strings and their bodies broke against the durasteel roof of the Warship. They Fall onto the floor as a broken heap.
Mephiston, lord of death and master of the Liberious moved his attention to the other troopers impeding his path. With another draw of power, he thrust his hand out in a torrent of red lighting arching out. Each tendril found and burned a target until the entire force arrayed was wiped out. Creating a staccato of screams until the hallway fell away to silence.
He turned and met the gaze of his long-time friend and fellow Epistory Liberian Gaius Rhacelus. Mephiston crackled with power, demonstrating levels of power no other psyker in the imperium could imagine reach. It was a great boon but also an incredible risk if Mephiston lost control. Rhacealus gave him a scrutinizing look and then a nod. Satisfied that the Chief Librarian had not lost himself.
They did not slow. The strike team continued to their target, killing, and maiming until they reached pair of large bulkheads, a pair of armored doors so thick that it could take a battle cannon to blast through. Guarded by red-robed warriors branding pikes. They are Elite warriors that would stop armies of lesser men, but Astartes wasn't like most men.
The chief Liberian reached out with his mind, attempting to see beyond with his ethereal powers. Mephiston could feel the pressure as dark and overwhelming as that of an eclipse. The presence emanated from behind those doors, warning anyone who dare approach its ominous presents. The Chief Librarian activated his Vox. "I have reached my target." Many remarked on how his voice was distant as if he was only ever putting half attention to whoever he spoke to.
A noble and ancient voice responded in kind. "I hear you Mephiston, processed with haste. Their battle station is in position over Terra and Marshall Helbrecht Navy is meeting intense resistance." Dante didn't let it show in his voice, but Mephiston could feel his Lord and friend's worry.
Mephiston let out a slight grimace. This is the closest the Imperium has ever been to falling. If he failed here, he would not just fail his chapter but the entirety of the Imperium. He could feel it, the thousands of souls that had died to bring him here. The endless tides of humanity and his own brothers. Putting their ultimate sacrific and hopes on him. All of them gathered at the guarded doors. Their Ghost hunting his progress.
Without wasting more time, he gathered his psychic potential into Vitarus, his artificer force sword. Furious red flames erupted from its edges and hurled it at his final barrier. The guard and door exploded in crimson flames and lighting. Utterly obliterating everything in its reach. Leaving it nothing more than a hole emanating an unbreachable wall of vapor.
He turned to Rhacelus. "Guard this position with our brothers. Let none through."
His friend moved to protest. "But Mephiston, you feel it. The power that reeks from beyond that room. You'll need all the aid you can muster to defeat it." He gestured with his own artificer force sword.
Mephiston didn't seem fazed by that. He merely nodded. "You are correct." But he gestured with a simple nod to the opposite hallway. There stood more troopers. In their multitudes that it would even threaten the blood angels. Yet it wasn't them that Mephiston meant. In the sea of white armored bodies was a man. Clade in black and welding a single sword made out of hatred. The overwhelming threat he emanated was thick in the air.
"I need you to hold them off until I have slain their so-called Emperor." Rhacealus took another moment to take in the image of the stranger. Calculating if the Epistory could even defeat him. When he couldn't decipher it he only nodded.
"I'll buy you all the time you need." He said it almost resigned but not defeated. A warrior of the blood would fight on until he couldn't anymore. Even against the unknown. Yet Mephiston wanted to aid his friend, but he couldn't spare the strength. Rhacealus was right, he'd need all of it to defeat the coming threat.
With a single nod, he turned and marched into the mist. The rhythmic heavy thuds of his ceramite boots carried him until it was too distant that even the enhanced ears of his old friend couldn't hear them..
He saw many things in the grey of the metallic vapor. The dead first, the people who had died for him, guardsmen, Astartes, and millions more masses who gave everything to achieve victory. They looked upon him expectantly, with either hope or dread. Then came those he had slain. Cultist, traitor marine, Xenos, and demon, all of them throwing jeers and venom at the Liberian.
Deep he went, the fog seemly never-ending and with it, more images. That of his chapter's future of becoming either the noble sons of the angels or madden berzerkers. Of Terra and its peril, the sight of its destruction if he failed. Meeting his Gene sire and the emperor and forced to tell them he had failed. The tortured face of Lucius and his horribly corrupted body. That it would come to nothing and he wouldn't be able to hold back the angel of darkness and lead his chapter into damnation.
There was doubt there. Pressuring him and threatening to crush him. They lingered in his mind, weighing on him with every step. He felt sluggish and perhaps he should call upon Rhacealus and take on this sith lord together. His brother surely could hold the enemy off and grant them the victory. He should turn back and…
Turn back?
No, this wasn't right. These weren't his thoughts. They wormed and wiggled in his subconscious, attempting to pass off as his own. He knew failure was possible. That he might not be enough. These thoughts were in him when he fought beings powerful enough to bring entire sectors down. They tried similar tactics, throwing false ideas to stop him before he could reach them. To drown him in doubt.
He didn't have room to host such ideas. He marched, each step piercing the mist with the weight of Imperium's destiny. By the Blood of Sanguinus, he will be the Emperor's sword this day.
A fire was lit in his eyes and he moved deeper into the smoke and the ghosts continued. Now images of Xenos cities he had never seen and other wars he had never witnessed. Vast armies of white armor. All brothers by blood, all with the same face. Clash with armies of metal, fighting and defying the craven machine with impeccable determination. He knew these were from Via Lactea Secundus, the other Galaxy. Likely predecessors of the stormtroopers and yet he would commend them. If no other reason than they died for their duty as any good servant should.
He saw robed men and women. Some human, others Xenos, most of their features hidden by robes. They all stood in a row, guiding him to his target. He saw them in the visions of old wars and old tomes he was able to recover from the enemy. A cult of the force, obeying it like a god. Mephiston could feel their judgment, even as their eyes were obscured by the darkness. He couldn't decipher its meaning.
.
He approached one of the phantasms. An older man likely in his twilight years and he studied him. Mephiston didn't know anything else either than that and his foresight couldn't reach into him. Far beyond the reach of the Warp and into the realm of this force. A new power, energy meant to flow in all life and give them otherworldly abilities. Like psykers and not at the same time. No warp entities or madness hunt force users but there was temptation. A dark side he knew concernedly little about. He does not know if the same could be said of his target.
He returned his attention to the old man. Likely a Force base anomaly similar to the warp. It likely wasn't benevolent but any insight he could glean from it would be a boon.
"Who are you." Mephiston didn't expect a response and when silence followed. He tried to probe it in a futile attempt to force it to speak, but still nothing. He moved on. Psychic talents would be wasted. Neither couldn't touch the other. They would repel and avoid one another. He learned as much when slaying this Empire's so-called inquisitors. A more powerful user of the ethereal powers could bash the other away.
He would need to plan for that and create dozen of other contingency plans in case of the unexpected. He had already made several doctrines to counter force users.
He felt something brush his soul.
Mephiston's plasma pistol found no target as he turned. Only the impossibly long corridor of smoke. He turned, the incident was already forgotten. The gentle hum of his power pack was the only thing he heard as he walked on. Freeing himself from the ever-expanding corridor.
The old cowled form of the false Emperor was the first thing he saw. Flanked by two more red armored guards. Their pikes fell to a guard at a moment's notice. They moved in a blur of red. Weapon held in a perfect form and aimed for his armor joints. To normal Astartes, they moved quickly for humans and might even pose a threat. To a librarian like Mephiston they were bearly worth a thought he spared them. Armored visors turned to behold their Emperor as they fell. The wet crack still reverberating In the chamber.
A disturbing crackle came from the seemly old man. Entirely unperturbed by the death of men entirely loyal to him. Instead, he shows amusement as if laughing at a sick joke. Malformed cheeks bent into a smile, showing yellow crooked teeth, with equally Sickly yellow eyes met his glowing red. It was as if they could look into his very soul. The Rage that dwelled in all sons of Sanguinius stirred but he commanded it, forcing it to bow. He could feel his other half be caressed and prodded by this man.
"I am… impressed to see one of your kind so talented. The arts of this warp eludes me. Yet it still intrigues with its esoteric powers." His voice came out in a pitched and strained but it felt like a lie. As of he could throw off his veil and reveal a being that emanated power.
Mephiston watched the strange old man, delving into his power. He thrust his spirit into currents of time. Scrying it for all outcomes, to find the secrets this So called Emperor held and found nothing. His past, his future and all that speaks of this man is silent. Maybe it's the nature of their realities or there's more to the force that he doesn't understand.
The old man rose from his throne. Hands held close to his chest as he studied the man before him. Showing no fear of what he faces. "It has so much potential but so little control. It rampages through your galaxy with no one holding its leash. Bringing nothing but war and chaos upon your planets."
Mephiston let the old man talk. Using his monologuing to buy time and plan. He cast his mind to memories of past battle and reports of force users. He noted their abilities and habits. On how most of them used hand gestures to use their sorcery. There were exceptions but nearly all have done so. Was it perhaps a way to focus their abilities or just a tick? Likely masters of these powers trained away the wasted movement and this man was likely one. Regardless he kept his eyes on the wrinkled gnarled hands of the false Emperor.
"Don't you wish for the peace and security of your Galaxy? An opportunity to save everyone you care for." Mephiston's mind went to his brothers and the twin cruse they were suffering. How they had to be wary of who he has become.
"Who are you?" Mephiston responded.
The smile of the old man grew. The malicious aura he had turned to a form of satisfaction. His slow shuffling seemly turned into a glide and he was a few feet from Mephiston. Arm wide as if to embrace him. "I am the Emperor of an Empire that has brought stability and prosperity to a galaxy that was torn apart by war and strife and I offer you the same. A future where you're children no longer have to fear the coming danger. The warp would be tamed and controlled by its new Sith masters."
His gaze slowly turned to meet the eyes of the shrouded man. "And what does this so-called savior go by?"
A few more feet and Mephiston could almost strike with Vitraus. "I am Darth Sidus, and I could offer you the power to save this galaxy. Join me and I can teach you other ways."
Mephiston's eyes scanned the room, looking for any iconography that could lead him to a solution. He doubted this was his true name. In the force, names likely didn't have power or at the least, not of any noteworthy attention. The warp however did give it importance, making whoever targeted it far more susceptible to its touch. If he could have this Darth Sidus reveal his true name then it would grant him an advantage.
His hand extended. His face was still impassive but his eye narrowed. Most would have missed it but Sidus did. "Do not make light of me. I don't make deals with those who don't grant me their own name. Especially to become an underling." His rage batters itself against its restraints. Clawing and howling at his impassive actions.
Sidus's hands retreated, curling themselves in front of him. He made a low hum as of he fully understood Mephiston's plight. "No." He stretched the word as if to add emphasis. "Not an apprentice, you don't have the gift of the force within you."
He gestured to the widow that led to the void. Within it played out a battle above the skies of Terra. Its smog-cloged atmosphere is obscured by the thousand blossoming suns. A war between Empires played out as the dagger-shaped ships of the Empire traded their immense fire with the gothic decorated ships of the Imperium. The looming moon-size shape of the Phalanx held the spine of the Imperial Navy. It prevented the battle station it duled with, from firing its super laser and annihilating the throne world. A position that was tenuous at best as the swarm of Empire ships threaten to overwhelm it.
"You would be allied to me. As we battled the warp and its entities. You help me bring peace and enforce the rule of the Empire. You'll be regent of the new galaxy, ruling with me. Your new friend in this cruel and heartless galaxy." He reached out to Mephiston for the last time. "I can feel your anger, your frustrations. I know how this backward Empire would restrain you and if they knew your full potential, they would hunt you down."
That gave Mephiston pause. The two energy's normally couldn't detect each other, at least not in the conventional sense. Those who reach out could mainly detect what they could previously. Such as other Force or warp user and the occasional thought or emotion. Yet there was a way. If one could look for not what's there but what isn't. One could track the other. It was a discipline that required an enormous amount of will and talent. Something only he and the Chief Librarians of other chapters could replicate.
This man could and he still couldn't detect his. The Cheif Liberian's ruby red eyes, still glowing with ephemeral power looked down. To Sidus outreached hand and he raised his own. With a sudden act of violence, great red flames gathered around Vitarus and he hurled at the hunched feeble-looking man.
Like a deranged puppet, Sidus hurled his body backward. Twisted and turning like a man possed and avoided the torrent of fire that turned the metal grating into molten slag. He landed on a raised platform. Cackling like a mad man the whole time. "Then a rivel you shall be." The voice that once was low was replaced with a more manic and energized one.
Mephiston's eyes never left Sidus's hands, so he saw as he curled them and electrical current gathered. With a great leap, he dodged the storm of force electricity that craved and destroyed the durasteel floor. Mid-rise he aimed his plasma pistol and fired at Sidus's hooded head.
He watched as the miniature sun flew at speeds, powerful enough to incinerate the upper torso. A meter away from its target it stopped suddenly. An invisible force holding it there. Burning yellow eyes turned to meet his. Sidus let out a crooked smile and he hurled the plasma back. He battered it away with the flat end of Vitraus.
Mephiston scowled and before he touch the ground, he recited a passage from the glutted scythe. A pair of phantasmic skeletal wings erupted from his back. His momentum reversed and raised up high. He recited another passage from his tome, creating a ruby red bolt of warp energy. He raised it above his shoulder and lunch it towards the sith lord like a javelin.
It never met its target. Instead, it snapped the railing in half and smashed the wall that led into the outermost rooms. Darth Sidus launched himself into the air as if gravity held no hold on him. Drawing a pair of red beamed swords and meeting what was supposed to be a surprising thrust from Vitarus. He paired them with belying strength that shouldn't have come from a small old man.
Mephiston twisted aside and let the Sith lord fall. It didn't impair him in the slightest. Sidus fell and landed on the decking gracefully and without a sound. He charges his pistol once more, planning to fire at the man's feet and to be caught in the blast. But before his finger left the trigger a sudden force grabbed him. Squeezing at his armored bulk and throwing him to the ground.
The Blood Angels chief Librarian landed crashing down on his knee. Fighting against the imposing force. It was resisting him vigorously, attempting to crush and his artificial armor was suffering. Pressure seals were erupting and fiber muscles were overworked. His new body was suffering and his enhanced Primaries genetics couldn't defeat it. He called forth the warp, his knowledge of biomancy flooded his muscles. Empowering them and letting the Librarian rise.
He saw him, the false Emperor gesturing at him with a single hand and laughing the entire time. Once again the force reversed and tried to lift him into the air but this time he was ready. He put his warp craft to work and had the immaterium resist his powers. A tug of war between two primordial energies erupted. Neither was able to grab a hold of one another and attempted to push the other away in the material plane.
Both were avatars of their powers but only one of them were human, regardless of what dark art roamed in his mind. Sidus's control over the force was absolute and the dark side empowered his limbs. He had power enough to destroy entire armadas but he had only so much control before fatigue started to pull at him. Not enough to leave him defeated but enough for an opening.
Mephiston took full advantage by reciting another passage from the library of the blood angels Libarius. He started to leech the life from the sith lord. The dark lord's strength started to pull further into the force. Regaining the strength that he was quickly losing from his very being.
Mephiston felt the pressure slowly slip from him. Blood red wings extended and limbs relaxed. He fell to a knee, his breathing labored. Keeping a mental hold on Sidus's life as he drains him of strength. Tore at it, ripping away everything he could to put this creature down. Yet it didn't, he was still standing, slouched but standing.
No matter, his plasma pistol rose to finish him off.
Then he heard it, the sound of crying metal. He turned and saw the entire wall he came through bending and twisting until it gave in. Broken sheets and beans of durasteel ripped themselves free. Being pulled by and invisible towards him at blinding speeds.
He extended his wings and moved. Dodging and weaving through the storm of steel. Giant pillars of metal flew at him. It's mass so great that it would crush lands raiders with its bulk. An edge of a sheet scratched a greave, another ripped at his robes, a single screw he nearly noticed nearly embedded itself in his eye. Leaving a nasty scar from the near miss.
So much of the wall was ripped out that the fight beyond could be heard. Red plasma and bolters roared at one another and Rhacealus could be seen dueling against the man from before. His red energy sword slams itself against the edge of his friend's force sword. He had to turn once more to avoid another slab of durasteel large enough to rival a knight in size.
Then came a roar of cruel power and he spasmed as lighting claws against him. He crashed down unto a pile of ruin. His plate saved him from most of the jagged steel. Yet he couldn't feel where he was punctured. His blood clotting before any real damage could be done. The writhing agony cursing through him jailed his mind.
He had felt pain before, he had taken so much of it throughout his whole life. That a mortal man would have died a thousand times over from a fragment of it. This lighting was terrible, the dark side might even make it unbearable to most. To Mephiston, it was quaint.
His souls stirred within him. Collaborating for a single goal as his mind reached out. Through the warp the tendrils of his mind search for a vessel. His option was vast and there was one close enough for his porpoises. He encircled it, entirely ignorant of his presence. Like an oceanic creature about to be devoured by a great leviathan.
He did not know his name as he dominated and possessed the storm trooper's mind. He didn't bother to. He raised himself from cover, entirely ignored by his squad as they fired at his brothers. They didn't notice him leaving either, too busy keeping their head down from the hail of bolt fire, chewing their cover to pieces.
He sprinted, the body fit but the missile launcher he was wielding slowed him down. Muscle burned and lungs arched to near unbearable levels. He pushed on regardless, it won't matter later. He couldn't get far, as the floor was torn to a metallic canyon. It mattered not as he had a clear sight of himself and Darth Sidus's. He watched as he knelt, watching himself as he was assaulted by a force manifestation of lighting. He fought against it, trying to stand and take the attention of the sith lord.
He aimed the weapon, the memories of the body guiding him through the steps to arm it. He knew this would not kill him, not from what he's seen so far, but it would certainly be a surprise.
"TK-2457! What are you doing!" He ignored the call and fired.
He reunited as soon as the missile struck and true to form, it didn't hit the target. No instead it was caught mid-air, the propellant still firing as it hung mid-air. It detonated meters away from the robed form of Sidus, the black cloth billowing from the explosion.
Mephiston charged.
Vitarus crackling red with psychic might smashed into duel lightsabers as the Empire's lord twisted and blocked blindly fast. The old man laughed once more, fully this time as he bellowed out his amusement. "Your display of power is truly impressive." He pushed and despite the size difference was pushing the Cheif Liberians back. His ceramite boots grind against the floor planting. "But it pales in comparison to the dark side."
He didn't respond.
Mephiston focused on himself. Transhuman muscles flowed with unnatural strength and his sense sharped. Powered armored joints strained but held and he pushed back in an explosive display of power. The two lept apart, separated meters apart.
A moment passed and quite settled. Only the distant sounds of battle could be heard. Neither side making a move. Studying one another and their tells. Neither of them gave anything away. The sith lord straighten his form. Mephiston hefted Vitarus. The moment passed and both combatants charged one another.
They became blurs of motion, impossible for the eye to track. Both solely rely on their sixth sense to guide them. The sharp crack of sith lighting reflected off Vitarus echoed across the chamber. The hiss and boom of a plasma pistol could be heard. It missed and exploded in the distance.
Mephiston bared down with Transhuman strength and experience of centuries of war of his swordsmanship. Sidus danced and twisted away from his blows. The duel crimson blades a whirl of destructive movement. The mad man jumped, higher than any man had any right to, and glided and landed across the room.
Mephiston chased, summoning and hurling a blood spear at his target. He saw the sith lord jump to avoid it so many times before but this time The Liberian predicted it. He collided with the warlock's twin blades. Bearing him through the hole his attack made and landed together in another lock. They were in the middle of the battle. Red energy and mass-reactive rounds flew around them.
The sound of battle surrounded them both as their blades grinded together. Then they moved again. Resuming the deadly dance of destruction, displaying their full martial might to both trooper and Astartes.
It left them in awe. The marines watch as their chief Librarian display his skills with his blade and psychic manifestations. It also made them painfully aware of his opponent both enduring and countering Mephiston's might. Rhacealus out of all of the blood angels knew this the most, even when his attention was focused on his opponent. The black armored man pressed him with relentless assaults.
The stormtroopers almost paused at the sight of their emperor moving as he did. Not at all the frail old man he presented himself to be. If they weren't being shot at by the Imperium forces they would have been entirely transfixed.
Darth Vader could feel the utter dreadful aura his master radiated at this duel. Never before seen him ever exhort so much effort. He sensed his amusement at this, how he was relishing the display he was making. But there was another feeling he was sensing deep inside and struggling to surface doubt. Against some like this space marine so infused with warp energies he understood.
The Cheif Liberian emanated a dread. He caught a glimpse of the duel. Both men were impossibly fast. Sword clash against one another in flashes of crimson. Parrying, thrusting, and slashes were exchanged in blinding speed that it almost seemed they were moving in a faster timeline.
Each of their styles is distinctive in its own right. Palpatine's preternatural speed and destructive bladework. Tearing at the Liberian's defensive and leaving molt gashes in the decking of the station. Then there were Mephiston's methodical counters and openers at a speed that matched or exceeded his own masters. The blood angels floated the wings stretched out of his back flexing and beating as they let him glide across the duel, raining down lethal blows. Only for his master to dance out of the deadly rain.
Both of them are caught in the universe's deadliest dance.
He didn't just see their skill wielding their weapons either. Arcane abilities known only to the elite few were thrown at one another, like common party tricks. A force drain was targeted and leeching at the Liberian. The sith lord was thrown off by a powerful torrent of ruby red flames, powerful enough to melt the death stars decking.
Yet it wasn't his battle, he dueled the Cheif Liberians underlying. A fight he would end soon and he will join his master.
The hallway whined and twisted as it collapsed underneath an invisible force. The unreality energies of the warp are fueled by the Librarian's mind. The Empire's ruler once again evaded his murderous attempt on his life.
He didn't let the man recover. Mephiston charged, his form blurring and becoming nothing more than a red streak. Vitarus smashed into the duel energy blades of the Sith lord once more as he was still mid-air. A massively powerful telekinetic push. Smashing into Mephiston and sending him skidding back. He readied himself to maintain the pressure until something hit him.
Something speared his mind. Burning through his defenses and rooting itself in his mind. He pushed, wrapping his will around the tendrils purchasing ground into his mind. The force and the warp met once more and competition of wills ensues. He would be able to tear it off before it the sith lord could take advantage.
Then he saw it, blood red armor, shattered and its steaming insides leaking out. The emerald lens of his fallen. Battle brothers stared back. "Why did you forsake us." They asked, all in unity. They shook and spasmed and the red armor darken and hands grasped chains swords and ax.
They disappeared with a gesture. His mind was harder with centuries of training and experience. He had withstood the galaxy's worst and would do so for years.
He turned and saw the blue armored forms of his Libarius. Many of which he remembers. All of which are dead. They tried to come and aid him but when he reach out to stall them, he lost control and lighting erupted and his battle brothers long dead returned to their long slumber.
He remembered them, he would never forget their faces. The brother who risked their lives to return him to the chapter. Those who were there to help cross the Rubicon. Brothers, he will not fail by their loss. Not when so much rode on his success.
Once again he banished the illusion and this time searched for the heretic responsible. He found him. Standing there, a crooked smile plastered on his face. He summoned the power coursing through him. He prepared verse from his tome and…
"Mephiston! Help me." The voice was young and strangled as it begged the help of a man he saw as his father.
He saw Lucius Antros as he was on the nine silver towers. Clade in the blue of the liberious and holding the relic staff he gifted him. He fell to his knees, the staff shattering and his armor starting to crack.
"Mephiston, please! Why have you forsaken me!" The sight of a proud son of the angel begging was not one he should feel anything other than disgust but he couldn't shake the feeling of trepidation.
"You can't just abandon me! I'm your brother!" His armor burst as crackling energies of the warp took him. His body twisted and his cry of agony was amplified by his mutated lungs. Great multicolored wings erupted from his back and his feature took that of an avian creature.
He tried to pull his sight from the scene but his body remained still. His brother, his student, and his friend had fallen and he couldn't stop it. With all the power given to his form and the task given to him by his primearch, he couldn't save him. Like so many others he was sacrificed for the better of all but… did he have to?
No… there was no other choice. He carved futures but when the choice needed to be made. He was the one who made them. For he was the Lord of death.
Images of angels fighting of the nobility of his sire and his darkness. Of the truth of the angel's cruse and his role in it all. The burden he carries so his brother can run to a future. His chapters future and Sanguinius's request. He remembered Rhacealus and Dante and his brothers.
He tore away the illusion once more by force of will and the monumental weight of his actions.
He lept, and the sound of superheated plasma carving a deep groove into his artificer chest plate rung in his ear. The stinging pain of an energy sword cutting through skin muscle and bone, bearly missing his twin hearts.
Landing with a ground-shaking thud. The Sith Lords went quiet as his blade hummed. "You are far more resilient than the others. You are quite the warrior. Pity you chose to defy me."
His question matters little to Mephiston. He merely gestured with Vitarus and told him a single truth. "Humanity only has one true Emperor and you are found wanting."
He didn't wait for a reaction, he unleashed another torrent of bioelectricity and it was met with a flash of sith lighting. The two locked as they pushed at one another. Both determined to annihilate their opponent once and for all. They started to pour more power into their attack, causing great arching of energy powerful enough to blast through several decks of the station.
It was a pressure that felled everyone to their knees. Clone troopers falling and spasming. Their bodies are being torn apart by the ethereal energies clashing. Blood angels clasped at their helmets tearing at their seals and throwing them aside as they pressed their hands to throbbing foreheads.
Those like Vader and Rhacealus fought back. Trying to raise to their feet and move to the source. They watched as their masters rippled the air around them and great winds threw those to light into the air. Gravity let go of them, no longer powerful enough to keep them tethered to the ground.
They were a tempest of power. The center of an unnatural storm as they became avatars of the force and warp. The room itself began to shudder and break apart, then the next and the one after that. It eventually tore into the emperor's throne room and came close to the last layer that led to the void. A possibility of becoming a reality as the windows cracked.
Epistory Rhacealus power armor fingers dug into the decking. Struggling to maintain consciousness from the overwhelming pressure of power. He struggled to move one arm over the other. Slowly crawling to the epicenter. Yet he drove on, willing himself to reach his friend. The closer he got the greater struggle it became.
Then he was stopped, he couldn't move any further as even now he was being dragged back. His hands tore away from the decking as the metal could no longer support his advance. He had to do it now or Terra would be lost. He inhaled one great breath and with it being infused by his own psychic talent, released it in one great roar.
"CALISTARIUS! YOU'RE TEARING THE STATION APART!" He lost his grip, the plating failed and he was being thrown back.
His message was nearly being drowned out by being so powerful it was shaking a world ending station apart. But it got through, Mephiston who was being drowned out by the erupting otherworldly powers re-emerged.
He sensed his friend alive but rapidly getting further away. The strain of maintaining control had utterly ripped away the armor from his hands. Revealing the sacred flash underneath. He felt every bone in his body shattering under the strain. His skin was chard and blood boiled as he unleashed everything.
He focused to see Darth Sidus was losing control. His robes were lit aflame and his arms blown into stubs. The force flooding out of his raw flesh. His feature twisted as an image of utter pain. An endless bowl of unbridled pain came from his throat.
Verses from the book of the glutted scythe sang out from him in rhythmic patterns. Bringing his mind together, turning the chaos of his ephemeral powers into order. Bit by bit control returned to Mephiston, the torrent of power he was unleashing slowly receding. Letting the dark lord of the sith push back.
Then the fabric of time twisted and bent. The Chief Liberians brought it to a halt his powers holding the grains of time still. The unnatural energies started to move sluggishly and the noises started to alleviate. Then it all stopped. Everything was frozen in place as nothing moved or even could think.
Blood angels were crumpled onto the floor, crying tears of blood as they raged. Stormtroopers were dead or dying as their head exploded from the overpressure of the warp or force. The tall dark warrior is on a knee, attempting to crawl. Where Mephiston didn't know. Then there was Rhacealus, the wings of Sanguinius struggling to keep his friend aloft.
He turned to the man who named himself Sidus. He had to get rid of him, not just by slaying him, but by ensuring what ever malicious power he was using did go out of control.
So he moved out of the way of the lighting and started chanting. One last time in a gambit to decide the fate of the Imperium. Within the constraints of the world of this time, he was slight limited but limits he had to be wary of. He still aged and he could only influence so much before the laws of the universe reinserted itself.
So he recited the litanies of his chapter. His tired, sore body protested at another summoning of warp power. Screaming at him to rest and refusing to summit. He forced it to move with sheer will. The energies of the warp come forth regardless of his limb's protests.
Arms making the final motions and the laws of causality were pushing back at his sudden burst of warp energy. He held on as long as he could. Forcing the universe to give him but a few more moments.
Then everything started moving again and Darth Sidus summoned a storm. The force tore open a gate into the material universe. The battle station started to rip itself apart and exposed it's inside to the greater battle beyond. The vacuum sucking any of those who hadn't been secured.
The great void war tragedy on, ignoring the coming storm.
The hues of white and blue bubbled out of the Death star. Ripping apart the hull apart and creating a great organ vein of fire that could be seen thousands of miles onto the surface of Terra.
Then the blue met the multicolor bleeding of another rent. Lighting arched and the screams of raging gods erupted. A massive vortex of warp energies smashed into the powers of the force and dueled.
The two realms could not exist in one another and would push against one another for supremacy. The waves of mutating and life energies of both rocked the ships amount the void. Twisting and cracking some in half. Bathing the surface of humanity on earth with a corona of colors. If the Inquisition would investigate such anomalies in the future they would be surprised how little harm it had done. The warps twisting power is canceled out by the Force's more nurturing aspic. As a balance was being kept.
In the center of it all was the figure who summoned all of this. Mephiston didn't know if he could repeat such a feat. Calling so much of the warp in the material universe would have torn apart all but the strongest psykers. He knew men such as his Emperor or his gone friend Malcador could. Perhaps he was one such man and he could repeat it but he couldn't see what would call for such an action.
In the end, all that mattered now is that it had worked. He willed himself to move closer to the eye of the twin storms to meet Sidus for the final time.
He was still out of control as energies cascaded out of the once frail old man. He was nothing more than a shriveled chard piece of skin and bone as the force poured out of him. No longer in control of his immense power, he didn't raise any defensives. He just screamed and a voiceless scream.
This could have been Mephiston in another life. One where QVO-87 never came to Baal and he never crossed the Rubicon. All of that power would have run rampant and destroyed his Primarchs home world and brought the blood angels to extinction. That's if Astroth have slain him before all that could have happened.
Now it was no longer necessary. The tech priest gave him new life and with it, control.
He reached out with his mind, still struggling to keep the warp vortex open. Telekinetic tendril grasped the sith lord without any resistance. His broken form crumpling at the slightest pressure, he had to be careful. The writhing form was pushed gently as it was guided to the opening into unreality.
Great tendrils of warp energies reach out. Caressing the living corpses with geelfull hunger. It writhed angrily as force energies stung and burned it. Infuriated at the defiance it was given. It doubled its efforts to consume the unique soul. To taste a power it had never tasted before, burning itself hatefully trying to deny its resistance. Then it relised too late as Mephiston pushed.
The typhoon of the otherly energies was dragged with the sith lord. Passing through the threshold between realities. Pushing a hole that led to another realm into another, both of which were anathema to each other.
Mephiston shut the doors between universes with the remaining of his might. The warp, being surprised by battling its counterpart couldn't resist.
The Chief Liberian floated within the void. Too exhausted to act anymore. Air vented from rupture from his armor. One of his hearts has failed. and two of his lungs collapsed. His body was racked with pain and he had expended his powers containing a tear in reality that would have taken Terra.
His vox network still functions. He could hear that the forces of the Empire were in disarray and were routing. The Battle station was out of commission and boarding parties were securing it. His task was done and he embarrassed oblivion.
His world sinking into darkness.
.
.
.
"Your duty doesn't end here old friend." A golden-clad gauntlet clasped his pauldron. His eyes open weakly to meet the wrathful visage of his primarch.
"Lord Commander Dante, do you have him."
"Yes brother Rhacealus, Mephiston will fight another day."
Welp, I hoped you enjoyed the story. As I said, this was nothing more than a fun little match-up. If you feel like this could have gone another way then feel free to express yourself in the reviews.
Also, I know that are a lot of sith powers Palpatine could have used that didn't make an appearance. It was challenging to describe them when it was mostly Mephiston's POV and I didn't want to go back and forth. The Chief Liberian would have had difficulty describing powers he couldn't sense.
(Mephiston's Feats) Please remember that I might have gotten a few things wrong or are remembering them wrong.
Pre-Primaris
Is considered to be incredibly talented in the psykic powers.
Overcame the black rage.
Destroyed flying Tyranid army. (it did drain him for a short while)
Transport himself and most of a small blood angel strike force to a planet lost in a warp storm.
Froze a man in a time loop.
Defeated a chaos sorcerer who could duplicate himself on death.
Predicting the future and knowing a deamon was manipulating it.
Able to boost the void shields of a battle barge to survive Necron fleet firepower for a period of time.
Was able to duel and banish with Dante help, the keeper of secrets Kyriss the perverted. (The same one that dueled against Sanguinus during the HH)
Was able to survive a duel and divert it away from Baal, Ka'bandha. (I don't know if would have fully successfully done it. A Liberian lost focus before the fight could end.)
(Please note that the Inquisition Considers Greater Daemons Incredible threats, as they are known for turning planets into Demon worlds that are immune to exterminate.)
Held up a collapsing mine shaft with telekinesis with ease.
Was able to trick a Cryptek into letting him destroy an entire Necron Tomb world.
Memories the entier Blood angels library.
Able to summon Psykic abilities at near light speed.
Has studied other Xenos and warp lore to the point he can recall obscure knowledge.
Created the Book the Glutted Scythe.
When put under too much strain Mephiston nearly lost complete control and his chapter worried he would destroy Baal in a psychic storm.
Was unaffected by Ork insanity machine that could affect Tech-priests and space marines.
Withstood the full brunt of a cohort of electro-priest energy without any ill effects.
Destroyed a large dam to wipe out Ork offensive.
(Post-Primaris Feats) crossing the Rubicon let Mephiston grow and evolve significantly. But most importantly it gave him control.
Gained micro-control of his Psykic Talents.
Has come back from death.
Now has three souls, One of which is an ancient Baal Deity. (I think. It's called the angel of Darkness and it noramly duels against the Sanguinor)
Has near Perfect Time freezing abilities.
Mephiston claims he can now perform Necromancy but will not due to it strictly against his morals.
Has crushed a Rubric marine army with Telekinesis. (like freaking soda cans.)
Survived being exposed to the raw warp for an extended period of time without any corruption.
Survived a Tzeentchian Ritual.
Gave and entier Eldar fighter pilot squad heart attacks by manipulating their cells.
Repaired a thunderhawk front by rearranging its molecules.
Was able to see through Harlequin's illusions.
Is able to hide large objects from Eldar detection.
Was able to reverse Tzeentchian plot to create a Psykic empire.
Dissipated an Eldar laser beam by touching it.
That is literally everything I can remember. I'm sure I'm forgetting a few things and misremembered others.