Extremus Fors 38

All was madness and despair, Transhumans clashing with furious violence that made the air shake in agony. Men battled and died everywhere, stabbed in the back or cut down face to face, it made no difference. Death owned this Templum and all within would know its cold touch. Rebre knew it to be true.

Cowering behind a black cogitator the Sorceress fought to avoid terror taking hold. She was mostly ignored in the frenzied clash, too insignificant to bother killing. Heavy boots and cloven hooves clattered on the floor nearby but she kept her head down and clutched her chest in fear. To step out there and fight would not be bravery but stupidity, she was no warrior hero and the first enemy to see her would cut her down in an instant. Her cowardice was not only from physical frailty, her powers were gone. She didn't understand how, she didn't grasp when or why, but somehow she had been cut off from the warp, left a feeble waif in a clash of giants.

Rebre watched as Jubila fought her champion Lugdac, stuffing a fist into her mouth to avoid crying out. Her breath stilled as Jubila neatly ended Lugdac, lifting the sword aloft in triumph. Her faint hope died, her mightiest creation was undone, the Daemonsword claimed by the worst possible person. Any chance she had at winning this had just disappeared.

Jubila rolled his wrist and crooned, "Hello old friend, I like seeing you imprisoned. Oh, do keep trying to corrupt me… it tickles." A moment later a Space Marine in blue and another in grey came from nowhere, trying to run him through. Jubila met them with twin swords in hand, laughing as their duel resumed. Rebre however had bigger problems.

A wrestling pair of Beastman and Technobarbarian fell behind the cogitator, arms wrapped around each other's necks. Rebre was forced out of cover, dashing into the fray with her arms held over her head. She could not fight and was only able to duck and weave around bigger foes, trying not to get stepped on. She ducked around the back of a towering warrior in grey Ceramite, who wielded a long-staff as a club, and skipped over a cooling corpse of one of her warriors.

She saw Goresh battling a giant in black with a skull-faced helm. The warrior struck him soundly with his hammer but the Space Marine wasn't swayed. His right arm was a claw fixed with a fiery ruby and struck out to grab Goresh about the side of the head. One swift motion slammed Goresh's skull into a wall, leaving a bloody smear. Goresh staggered from concussion, but the giant drew back and threw him into the wall again, and again. Goresh's skull shattered and brains painted the wall, leaving a gory mess over the giant's hand. Unconcerned the Space Marine turned from the broken warrior and resumed killing.

Elsewhere Millic threw herself at a red Space Marine. She let out a wild yell of frenzy, her knives leading the way. The red giant turned a glowing axe to intercept her mid-air. One sweep of the weapon and Millic was parted at the waist. Before she hit the ground the axe came about again and cleaved her armpit to clavicle, neatly bisecting her into three parts. Millic's remains slopped upon the floor as the Space Marine strode on, fighting the next challenger with equal disdain.

Rebre was lost, without any ally to turn to. None of her followers could withstand the fury unleashed in the Forgefane, none could stand against Space Marines in battle. Then she saw worse entering the fray. From the doorway flaming figures in withered Ceramite threw themselves into the carnage, a dozen Undying seeking the heart of battle.

Over the din she heard Jubila shout, "These things again?! I thought we were done with this lot!" She didn't bother to turn and look as they engaged, her only thought to flee. Terror lent her legs speed and she darted into the shadows, seeking a place to hide. She had no plan beyond that; her only hope to survive was to remain unnoticed.

A bulky machine of some description offered cover and she ducked into the dark. From behind rang the terrible din of battle, roaring bellows, clashing steel and broiling hisses. Rebre however paid it no mind, running her hands over the cylindrical device. She had been promised this Forgefane offered a way off-world, but she had no mastery of science or technology. If there was a way to make these machines operate, she did not own the secret. It was harrowing beyond words, the means to flee were right before her and she could not grasp it. She beat her hands on the indifferent metal, tears running down her cheeks, and that's when she realised she was not alone.

A short gasp made her spin about, terror gripping tight as she expected giant to be looming over her. Yet what she found was nothing but a boy. A frail and injured boy, his leg immobilised by a heavy cast. He was hiding in cover, as she was, trying to back up as he dragged his leg along. Rebre didn't know who he was, or how he came to be here, but something about him made her gore rise.

"Don't come any nearer!" the boy cried, "I have powerful friends!"

"We all do, none of them are in a position to help either of us!" Rebre spat.

"You just stay away."

"I can't," Rebre hissed, "Who are you anyway?!"

"All you need to know is the Storm Heralds will make you pay if you hurt me."

Rebre frowned, "They brought you all this way… why?" The boy shut up and Rebre grounded her teeth in annoyance. This wretch was making her angry, angrier than she should be. There was something off about him, an instinctive loathing gripping her throat every time she looked at him. If only she had her powers she could rip the truth out of him, but there was nothing, if anything she felt more powerless than ever.

A connection was formed in her head as the truth dawned. The awful nothingness separating her from the warp, somehow it originated with this boy. He was soaked in emptiness, oozing suffocating fogs of confusion that choked her powers. Half-remember lore and fearful gossip among sorcerers came back and she grasped who this boy was, and why Space Marines would go to the trouble of dragging him all this way.

She reached for her belt and withdrew her dirk, inching closer. The boy's eyes widened as he tried to crawl way yammering, "No, please don't hurt me!"

"Shhh, this will only take a moment."

"No, please don't!"

"Hush, you have to die, so I can fly."

Rebre pounced on the boy, one hand reaching for the back of his head as the other drove the tip of her knife into his throat. Soft skin parted and blood whelmed, dribbling down his neck. She pushed deeper, sliding the dirk all the way to the hilt and holding it there. The boy's good leg kicked weakly and his hands beat feebly at her chest. His eyes loomed wide, pleading silently, but Rebre was unmoved. She held him tight as his struggles grew weaker and his heart slowed, life slipping away one drop at a time. Then his arms fell still and his eyes grew distant, seeing vistas no living soul can know. He was dead and with his passing the suffocating nothingness disappeared.

The boy was no more and Rebre felt the electric tingle of the Warp rush into her mind. So vivid, so potent and alluring, the addictive rush of Chaos suffusing her soul. She felt her powers return but so too did every else's. Across the battlefield silver warriors were bathed in lightning power, filling the chamber with thunderous booms and roaring flame. Jubila cried in triumph as the full power of the Daemonsword became his to wield and the Undying erupted into flames, their might doubling in an instant.

Rebre shrank back behind cover and hunkered down. Her subtle powers were still no match for the conflict raging out there, what little might she might wield would slough off the combatants like rainwater. She had seen Space Marines at war before and understood all too well the majestic destruction they could unleash, their merest gesture enough to end her. Fear filled her soul as she pleaded with her dark god to let her pass unnoticed, dread fingers of doom clutching her heart as her bladder emptied. If Slaanesh heard there was no sign, the Ruinous Powers uninterested in so lowly a sorceress. Rebre was alone, without allies or any means of protecting herself. Her life would last only so long as no one noticed she existed.

Desperation pulled her down into a pit of despair and yet she did not roll into a ball and weep, for there was one option left. An option she had never thought to explore, "Rebis. Rebis come to me."

From nowhere a soft voice intruded into her mind, "Why Rebre, are you in need of assistance?"

"Don't you…" Rebre spat but then gave up her spite, "Rebis, look at this place, look at me. I cannot survive this calamity."

The voice sniffed, "Yes, I can see it all. You do seem in a bind. I am interested to learn how you plan to escape."

"I can't!" Rebre spat, "I need your aid!"

"Mine?!" the voice laughed, "After you scorned me, rebuffed my generous advice?! I hardly see why I should offer to lift a finger for you."

"Because I will make you flesh!" she spat.

A pause, a moment of reconsideration, then the voice uttered, "You will give yourself to me?"

"My flesh and bone," Rebre wept in defeat, "I will be the ghost again, you will be real. I cannot survive this day but you can. You were a Space Marine, built for such violence."

"You offer it to me freely, without tricks or loopholes?"

"I have no wish to die, I know what awaits us after death. The half-life of a spirit is better than that. I will be anchored to you, kept from eternal death so long as you draw breath. You know this is the best offer you shall ever get."

The voice chuckled, "Then say the words."

Rebre closed her eyes and breathed, "I give myself to you Rebis, do as you will."

An energised flash of vitality coursed through Rebre and she felt the might of Chaos fill her. Mutating power, shifting her body to new and more durable forms. A second spirit poured into her brain, remapping neurons and memories. Bones swelled and muscles grew, adding mass from nothingness. She felt her body growing heavier and her ribs begin to fuse, pain beyond description but only from a distance. Her spirit was being dislodged in favour of the new owner of this body, reducing her to a voice in the Warp.

"To be real once more, to stride the worlds of men as a majestic conqueror and lord of all I survey. All shall know and fear me!"

Rebre whispered in despair, "Be gentle with me Rebis."

A pause bloomed, then the voice asked, "You keep calling me Rebis… you really shouldn't."

A flash of horror rang through Rebis as she gasped, "You… you are not Rebis!"

"I never said I was," a mocking tone rang, "Your brother's spirit was devoured long ago. A tasty snack I must say, but my appetite was not sated. You shall make a fine next course."

"Who are you?!"

"You already know, you have always known."

"No! No, no, nooooooooooo!" Rebre's spirit screamed as fangs immaterial bit deep, rending her soul into flakes of consciousness, which were consumed utterly. Rebre ceased to be, devoured by an entity of spite she could never equal. Her last sensation was mocking laughter and contempt as her tale came to its end. She did not last long enough to feel her legs fusing together into a sinuous tail nor multiple arms burst from her flanks. Vast wings of shadow arose from shoulders, as broad as a Land Raider, and a crown of thorns poked free of flowing white locks that spilled to the waist. A face as beauteous as it was evil formed, exulting in its own glory.

Smiling in wicked triumph the new owner of this flesh took in the magnificence of its new body, luxuriating in the sensations of being real. Air upon the skin, pounding blood in the veins, the feeling of lungs filling, so long forgotten. Six hands flexed and weapons manifested in each, swords of various types, each as masterfully crafted as they were lethal. They would rend anything they touched and make such a slaughter as to make the gods laugh in merriment.

Reality shuddered as something new entered the fray, a manifestation of the Grandis Pandemonium breaking the veil between Empyrean and Realspace. He had come, the Prefector of Chemos, Palatine Eagle, Lord of the IIIrd Legion, accursed Traitor and Daemon-Primarch. Fulgrim opened his eyes and laughed as a psykers on a hundred worlds screamed horror to the violated stars.