Log inRegister

The new logo poll is over and the will of the voters has been done.View the results here!

Creative Writing

This Won't End Well (30k Isekai)

Thread starterStrangerOrders

Start dateNov 14, 2017

FirstPrev64 of 371NextLast

Threadmarks

Apocrypha

Media

Informational

Staff Post

Reader mode

kingtaso01

Jan 7, 2018

#1,576

Selias said:

I like this Emperor.

Me too. It's like he represent Humanity better than any other Emperor.

5

Rooster

Jan 7, 2018

#1,577

Xon said:

This one is frankly just as retarded as the other displays of the WH40K Emperor, being nothing but informed abilities and author fait granting random previously unknown powers. (Random pull a soul from another universe? what horse shit).

This story was fairly interesting before the WH40K proper parts showed up via a very very lazy timeskip, but I guess it is all down hill now as the author throws away all the previous character development to railroad some truely uninteresting plot lines.

Click to expand...

Should you be using things like 'retarded' to voice your opinion? Your position is in the vast minority and using two paragraphs just to call something stupid and that you don't like it is hardly constructive.

The author is the author and he shall write as he wills according to his vision and his abilities. As long as the end result is enjoyable, I don't care about the creative licence StrangerOrders took with the Emperor. Tropes are tools.

19

EVA-Saiyajin

Seeker of Enlightenment and Endless Entertainment

Jan 7, 2018

#1,578

This is an incredibly cool interpretation of the Emperor that does well in taking account what ADB said in his aside and making it work.

Regardless of the possibility of multiverse crossing and how one might take it, thecharacteris what is cool.

10

leafy503

Jan 7, 2018

#1,579

Selias said:

I like this Emperor.

masterofmadness said:

Huh, this is an interesting interpretation of the Emperor, well done. He has both element of actual humanity and the cold distant immortal you see in some books.

The Emperor can act like a human when he wants to, here's him meeting Corax.

Spoiler:Deliverance Lost p. 184 - 185

Spoiler:Deliverance Lost p.186 - 188

11

Xon

Staff

Jan 7, 2018

#1,580

Rooster said:

Should you be using things like 'retarded' to voice your opinion?

Everything we know about the WH40K Emperor works backwards from the the starting premise he was unwilling to tell people that hostile forces exist in the Warp and they arephysically contagious.When Warp travel is their only form of FTL.

In fact, Emperor isn't just unwilling to tell people but actively suppress that critical information.

Even in the only scene we have of the Emperor talking he outright declares that "they don't know the future" but then forbids talking about as if it the future was some precious thing that needed to be preserved at all costs. The rest of dialog isn't much better, it is easily the weakest part of the story.

This is what happens when you nerf the fuck out of characters to make a "super intelligent" character. What really happens is you've got one not stupid character and a bunch of near braindead characters who magically had their agenda removed.

3

ThreadmarksChapter XLII: Legion III

Threadmarks

StrangerOrders

Passively Middling Writer

Jan 7, 2018

#1,581

Chapter XLII: Legion III

I was still recovering from a conversation with my fath-creatorwhen I stood before the gates to one of the dozens of audience chambers being occupied by Imperial dignitaries haranguing my people in the initial phases of Compliance.

Thankfully, most of said audiences were being occupied by my Guildmasters and Guild-Regents or intermediaries for the greatest rulers of Calengwag, all souls who had been primed to not take offense at some of the more...presumptuoussouls that might have been dispatched.

I wondered if they would perhaps be overzealous with the seemingly cultured and mundane people of my world after what I knew to be the rather... 'reserved' recovery of my other two brothers. Cthonia and Fenris, the homeworlds of Horus and Russ respectively, being much more visibly savage and bloodthirsty than my own home with a populace more likely to scream and throw axes than to host a diplomatic meeting.

An impression which could have easily led to the slaughter of those with said assumptions if I was not careful. But that was a concern for later.

Those awaiting me inside were infinitely more important than whichever Iterator which I was going to publicly shame later once I submitted my thesis to the Emperor.

Morygen adjusted her cloak while I straightened my belt.

"This is going to be interesting," I sighed.

My Astartes wished for an audience.

Mysonswanted an audience, the closest thing which I would ever have to biological offspring anyway.

The Emperor had told me of them, of the deafening to the Warp and uncanny perception that came with my gene-seed. They were not Blanks in truth save for a small handful in the legion but they would not fear me or hate me the way many mortals might. They had traits I recognized, a fierce protectiveness and a strong filial impulse that would see them naturally slot into Calengwag in much the way I had come to.

"The last family reunion was exceptional," Morygen snorted. "Do you think this one's going to leave us in stunned silence with our jaws hanging like winds-addled idiots?"

"One can hope not," I sighed. "Although I would not wager on our luck in that regard."

With that I passed through the side-gate and emerged into a relatively small audience hall of stone and timber.

It was a rather simple chamber lit by warm torches and with six seats of stone-shell wood flanking a larger bronze throne on a two step dais.

A plain space which was the humblest and most private of the audience halls, free of opulence in a way that invited trust in the fashion of Gwyar. A test of my sons' by their prospective mother.

They fell to their knees in a heartbeat of the door opening and starred down as we walked to the dais and took our seats.

Twenty-two Astartes knelt before me along with a single Custodian standing at the rear of the room.

My eyes immediately scanned the armor they wore for marks of distinction.

I counted twelve captains, three lieutenant commanders, a single Chapter Master along with a handful of specialists around the tall Astartes from before.

The Lord Commander of the Legion at a guess.

An odd arrangement for the accompanying force of a Legion's highest officer in the absence of a Primarch but the rest of the legion was probably needed elsewhere.

I felt something strange in my hearts now that I them closely, as if something in me recognized my blood in their veins.

"You wear helmets," I asked.

"Out of respect, My Primarch," The lead Astartes had the deep, echoing voice which I had long imagined in the Astartes.

"Take them off," I said kindly. "I would look on the faces of my children."

I caught the hesitation in the lead figure's nod before he made a signal and the Astartes began unlatching their helmets and laying them down before me.

Near twenty Terran decades of medical study and my own innate nature allowed me to appreciate every modification made to their features. There were traces of gigantism, their proportions were not as finely balanced as my own to be sure but they were masterfully worked and bore their scars well.

I also saw myself in them as one did with almost all legions. Their skin was universally a touch dusky, even on men whose features did not match it and there were varying degrees of grey in their eyes, even spilling into the pupils of many. Just as the varied fashions in which they wore their hair showed far more grey than matched their visible aging. A drop in some while others had manes and eyes of lead or steel.

More deeply, the cast to their wide, upturned mouths and the lean foxish casts of their faces mirrored my own in a way that made their ancestry clear.

Why did I feel a touch of pride in that sentiment? Why did I see something between shame and relief in their eyes?

Their commander, the giant, seemed the eldest. Although that was partly due to his full beard and short-cropped hair were filled with grey and white which a glance told me was a result from shock and stress rather than heritage. His features were narrow, kindly and strong beneath grey eyes which seemed to me to be more shamed than pleased.

There was shame in all of their expressions. Joy to be sure but a melancholic one.

And their eyes... many of them were openly weeping.

"I am pleased to see your faces, my sons," the words came without thought but in a more somber voice than I would have liked.

Something was wrong.

I recognized the look of those who had lost much and more.

"My Primarch," The apparent Legion Master's voice was softer than I had imaged as he spoke and bowed his head. "I present you with the remaining commanders of your legion and beg your reprimand."

The words came like a confession long awaited.

It took me a heartbeat to respond to the words as I did a recount of the Astartes arrayed before me as kept myself from warping the metal of my armrest beneath my grip.

Around twelve hundred Astartes. If each officer represented the full some such a rank could be expected to command.

I did not need to look to see that Morygen had frozen, I felt the shock in her heartbeat.

It mirrored my own.

How many had died?

How many like them.

My Sons.

I only now knew them but suddenly the feeling of loss, an old and familiar companion, threatened to drown me.

"Tell me what has happened, my son," The last two words forced their way into my voice along with more pain. My voice had lost the affectation of tone, sounding cold and mechanical with shock.

"My Primarch, we were outmaneuvered by our foes," The Legion Master shook his head, his voice catching with the words but he raised his eyes to meet mine. Seeming towantto find anger in them, to find death. "And by my command our fifteen thousand brothers have been made less than a tenth our number and I can only present you with as many."

Morygen passed a hand over my own and I realized that the bronze beneath my hand was warping and screeching under my grip.

"Fourteen Thousand," I said between clenched teeth while wondering why the report enraged me beyond even the casualty reports of the raids and battles that I had directed for decades.

The Legion Master hung his head in relief, almost seeming to bare his neck as I would draw Calyburne to take his life.

It shames me to know that the thought crossed my mind there.

That I was about to be goaded into something unforgivable.

Thankfully, it was then that the Guardian Spear at the back of the room struck the floor.

"Lord Ailbe," The Custodian's vox echoed across the room and I raised me eyes from the disgraced Legion Master to regard the strange presence. I had seen no pointing in challenging him before, Custodians were stubborn enough to fight to the death if they saw something as duty and they generally did not do anything that was not tied to duty.

"Custodian," I nodded with barely restrained effort as I remembered myself and let go of the throne, instead finding Morygen's hand reaching to grasp mine. I took it with as much dignity as I could for reassurance before continuing. "I am surprised to see one of my father's guards here."

"A matter of honor," He predictably did not so much as dip his conical helmet. He was more like a talking statue than anything human.

I raised a brow after I heard a surprisingly bitter sigh from the Legion Master.

A sigh which I now noticed contrasted with the relief visible on the other Astartes.

"Then resolve the matter," I inclined my head with as much patience as I could muster in the confusing cocktail of emotion bubbling in my stomach.

He stretched out one golden gauntlet and pointed at the kneeling Astartes, "Their gauntlets Lord Ailbe. Behold the bands of Aurumite there."

I blinked and focused on what I had previously taken for something like an unknown honor, each wore on one hand while the Legion Masters entire right gauntlet was so decorated.

I had thought it mere gold, as one did not expect to find Aurumite there. A metal which was beyond rare.

"They bear that mark for surviving Drem, your sons distinguished themselves with honor for they fought against the great enemy beyond what could be asked of any Astartes. Your Legion Master held their forces against a tide of creatures where many would have failed and was awarded with those markings by the Master of Mankind," The Custodian thumped a fist against his breastplate. "I, Fabian Elegua of the Tharanatoi stand witness to this."

I nodded my thanks to the Custodians before turning my attention back to kneeling group of Astartes.

They felt guilt where others would have been proud of commendation.

That was good in its own way.

But it had led their leader into attempting suicide.

I felt Morygen squeeze my hand in comfort.

"Tell me more of Drem to the final detail, Legion Master," I said with the kindest smile I could manage past the strangest mix of grief and pride. "But first. I would have your name. Oh blood of mine."

"Alten'lo, My Primarch," He dipped his head and began to recount his tale.

He told me of the world of Drem.

A planet which had been amidst some sort of apocalyptic civil war when their fleet had arrived a decade after declaration of the Crusade.

One side had offered Compliance for aid while the other had answered all communications with calls for their blood. The choice had been obvious, they had prosecuted months of careful support strikes. They cut off the supply routes of the vicious blood-drinkers, poisoned the bodies of the fallen and hunted the bloody rituals that they recognized from their earlier days. All was building towards a single coordinated battle wherein the final cultists would be destroyed by their combined strike and cement Compliance.

They had initially found success, their hardened legionaries felling the hordes of twisted and mutated former humans like a sharped blade cutting through grass along with the warriors of Drem.

Then things turned for the worse however when the desperate zeal of the cultists bought their leaders the time needed to summon forth a short-lived warpstorm that allowed bloodletter upon bloodletter to burst forth from the cultists as great beasts wielding axes of bronze, black iron and bone crashed into the legion from the heavens.

The people of Drem screamed across the world as the Second deployed en masse to attempt to save their allied cities, falling in brave but ultimately futile last stands. The legion fought hard, with the strongest blanks amongst the brothers attempting to bring down the greater abominations while only the cold calm of Alten'lo kept order as he bled his troops to separate the mindless hordes from the greater beings, allowing their null brothers to fight the abominations while the rest sold their lives to hold off the great swarm.

It was only the timely arrival of the Emperor and his daughters that saved the legion from destruction as the Daemons were carved apart by the bringers of Silence and the great beings screamed as the burning blade of Humanity's Master ended their existences. Less than one in ten legionnaires remained at the battle's end and despite the commendation of the Emperor himself.

Alten'lo and his survivors were then attached to the Emperor's fleet until they could restore their strength or their Primarch could be found.

He had not spared any detail, he listed every brother he spoke with in those days. He gave me the formations he issued and every battle like a man in a fugue, like a sinner confessing his crimes.

And by the end thin streams of tears poured from the eyes of the Astartes.

I felt my own tears at the deaths of the sons I would never know and a sort of fierce pride at how they met their ends.

"You are Seekers," Morygen rose and smiled at the Legion Master after he had finished his tale. "You have shed your blood as we have, your brothers have died as ours have. I am glad to embrace you as a son of my beloved. I would embrace you as my own."

There was confusion on Alten'lo's features at the once-mortal woman's words, I doubted any of them fully understood what Morygen was to me.

Her words were as genuine as the tears in her eyes but there was something else in her voice.

They would not understand, they could not understand.

In many ways, by the reckoning of Calengwag and Gwyar most of all, they were hers by right.

The children so long denied to her by my nature.

"I am of a mind with my honored wife," I smiled at the man and rose from my throne and walked down from the dais to stand before the kneeling man.

"To your feet, oh son of mine, Alten'lo who is loved by sire and matron," I offered a hand to the man.

He looked at me with a hesitation before shaking his head. It was hard for an Astartes to deny their primarch and the strain of that effort showed.

"I cannot," He shook his head. "There lives weigh on me, my Sire. I bring a legion of the dead where I should have brought you a legion vital and triumphant."

"You bring me a legion where a lesser commander would have seen all slain!" I thundered, genuine anger ripping through me as I hauled the man to his feet as if he were a child crying on the floor. "And you will accept this, my gratitude, my respect, my love!"

Morygen laughed as she walked over while wiping away her tears and looked up at the towering Astartes.

"It must be in the blood," She chuckled with a peculiar fondness. "You all look a bit like him you know, it's in the eyes but it is far more in the demeaner."

Alten'lo seemed a child for a moment and I my instinct had him embraced like the son I could never have.

I looked up at the assembled Astartes.

"You are all my sons and you all have my respect, I would have your names and I would have your stories. I would know the names of the Astartes in your companies and I would speak to each squad. We are made immortal, we are given faultless memories." I gave them a fatherly smile as the surge of emotions swirled in my hearts. "I can think no better use for those talents than knowing all of you."

Morygen chuckled despite herself, "You might want to let of Alten before you crush the life out of him."

Alten.

"You are already being informal," I smiled.

"I am told a mother should," she whispered to me.