Guardsman 03-Farseer
Whats Up?
GYA! IT LIVES!
Sorry for the long update time, exams and then the real world decided to pounce on me like never before. However, I will continue this fic until I die, it completes, or the 40k universe goes up in smoke. However, update times cannot be guaranteed because of school, SATs and the like (I'm a junior). For better or worse, I don't have a girlfriend, so ya'll don't hafta worry about that.
Recap: Last time, Johan and his squad were sent to the armory to suit up, and then were tested in a combat simulator. After Johan had his compulsory training, they were sent into the gladiatorial arena against the Inquisitor Ramovi Kazantaslya, who fielded a daemonhost against our team. Now, after the entire team has been killed or knocked out, Johan is left standing, alone against the daemonhost, when an unknown personality invades his mind and offers to help.
Disclaimer: Do I really hafta say it. (gets threatened by a lasgun). Hahaha… (gets threatened by 100 lasguns). Ok! I get it. I don't own the 40k universe, of any armies, fluff etc, but I d own my own characters. Ask if ya wanna use them.
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Ishmael was scared. He hadn't been this scared since…well, ever. The raw power pulsating from this mortal's hand was enough to flay the mind of a lesser demon, inquisitorial seals or not. Realizing that his only chance at winning this first showdown was in close combat, Ishmael charged forward, and focused all the warp-energy he could summon in front of him, making a rainbow colored translucent vortex in front of him. Johan, realizing what the daemon was trying to do, yelled
"YOU SHALL GO NO FURTHER, DAEMON!"
When he yelled this, he launched the warp energy he had been gathering in his hand at the daemon. However, he had not been prepared for the potency of the shield, and the warp blast shattered on the vortex that the daemon was channeling. Realizing that he wouldn't have enough time to call upon the warp again, Johan quickly uttered a prayer, and unsheathed his power sword. He thumbed the activation rune, and heard the baritone hum of the xenos power field generating. Seeing this, the daemon quickly summoned a warp blade in his right hand. As the daemon approached, Johan heard the voice of his aid
"Remember what I taught you, Iohanne. Position the blade straight out, and turn to the side. Be prepared to block from any angle."
(A/N: he is using a one handed sword)
Suddenly, Johan saw a vision flash before his eyes. He saw a woman, clearly a rape victim. He saw this woman get throttled by a man wearing carapace armor writhing with symbols that burned with a blue psychic fire. He saw the man perform strange rituals on the woman, and anoint her with pungent, yet strangely sweet smelling oils, and he heard him say
"Tzeentch, I give the soul of this woman to your care. May you accept my sacrifice, Lord of the Unending Path!"
Having said this, the man took out a strangely shaped scepter, writhing with faces that formed and reformed, screaming in endless agony, on the ornate wood. He chanted something incomprehensible and then pushed the scepter against the woman's chest. The woman started to shake violently, and he heard an unearthly scream, as the woman's soul was being torn from her body. As thousands of incorporeal hands reached into her body from the scepter, a wail like that of a wraith pierced the dimly lit room. When the scream was still in the air, a robed figure shoulder checked the carapace armored man. What he then saw was a blur.
Johan snapped back to reality. The daemon had almost reached him, and struck out with its warp-blade. Backslash, downward slash, diagonal slash, parry, stab, parry. The swirling melee was too fast for mortal eyes to comprehend, but Johan somehow could see the daemon's ether-blade and its every movement. The crowd was aghast at the speed that this superhuman and this hell spawn were fighting. All they saw were flashes of sparks and explosions of light, as the two beings in the arena dueled for supremacy. Slowly, as the crowd realized that this psyker in the arena was a human, defending them from this warp spawn, they started cheering. Another blow came from the daemon, this one more devoted than the rest. Johan easily parried it, as if he had been taught by a master swordsman. This entire repartee shocked Johan, as he did not know that he knew how to swordfight. The daemon, though, was equally surprised, and, seeing an opportunity, Johan struck out at the daemon's chest. The blow struck home, and a liquid, not wholly corporeal, spilled out from the gash. The liquid was a garish blue, and the sand where it touched started smoking, as if the very dirt rejected the corruption given form dripping out of the sword wound.. The daemon screamed in agony, as it could not access the healing powers that it had been able to earlier. Cursing the seals that bound his power so, Ishmael came up with an idea. He renewed his attack at the mortal, leaving the areas covered by the inquisitorial symbols and fetishes open to attack. Johan noticed that the daemon was giving him openings, and he could not understand why. Did this thing want to be banished? No, daemons do not have regret. Then he noticed it. A small, ornately jeweled inquisitorial 'I' flashed from an adamantium chain, and Johan understood. The daemon was trying to get Johan to cut the bindings placed on him by the Inquisitor, and thus free his whole powers. This strategy made it much harder for Johan, because with every strike, he had to try and hit the daemon while not hitting the bindings that kept its power in check. Johan was amazed and frightened that this was only a small fraction of this creature's power, but he knew that if the daemon upped the stakes, than so could he. Seeing the mortal's increase in the precision of his strikes and the hesitancy with which he struck at the openings, Ishmael realized that the mortal had figured his little game out. Withdrawing from combat, the daemon said
"You are smarter that any human I have ever met, young one. You have realized and thwarted my plans thus far, however, even with these bindings; I am only using a fraction of my power. Prepare to face the wrath of a psyk-daemon, foolish mortal. As a parting gift, I shall let you know that you have been the most entertaining opponent that I have ever faced on the field of battle. Even the mighty Adeptus Astartes Librarians do not hold a candle to your powers. You are truly of amazing stock. The only psykers that I have ever seen with this much power are the Eldritch Seers. Take this as a complement. Now, with the pleasantries finished, prepare to be taken by Tzeentch!"
Johan saw the daemon's eyes start pulsating purple, and then he felt a presence push itself into his conciousness. The voice, dripping with intrigue, said
"Fight me in a mind battle, Johan. Let us see whose mind will reign supreme on this field."
Johan felt the presence push further in his mind. It was like having a crowbar pry open his mind. Johan fell to his knees in agony, screaming at the top of his lungs. He then felt the pressure be relieved. Another voice, that of the one who had instructed his sword grip, told him
"Iohanne, I cannot hold on much longer without my body, and through that a direct connection to the warp. You must fight back! What you have to do is adopt an avatar, and use it to fight his avatar on the plane of your mind! Adopt an avatar of all that is just and right in this universe, and you shall prevail!"
Johan thought of the most noble thing he could on such short notice. His avatar was the two headed eagle of the Imperium, the holy organization of man under which the stars themselves were tamed, and countless lesser beings were brought to the guiding light of the Immortal Emperor of Mankind. It was by His will that men lived and died. With this avatar in mind, he went towards the area of his mind that was under attack with his avatar.
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Ishmael was having fun with this mortal. He had been a good fight, but apparently did not know how to resist possession. As he was pushing forward with his chosen avatar, a great glaive, wreathed in blue psychic fire, and illuminated on its ornate blade with glyphs that tore the souls of it's victims from their bodies, he ran into a figure. This figure was a black raven, with glowing yellow eyes. It looked disdainfully at the flaming weapon in front of it, and moved to block passage through the rest of the mind the daemon was ravaging. The daemon sensed that this was not the mortal, but apparently a presence that had taken up residence in his mind. The glaive, furious at this hindrance in front of it, charged forward, fully prepared to deliver a decapitating strike, when the raven flashed its eyes, and a shield went up in front of the glaive. Howling in rage, it pushed harder and harder, but could not get through the shield of this incorporeal bird. The bird spoke
"Daemonkin, I am not here to fight you, only to make sure that this young one defeats you. You shall not get through until he is ready, and then I will be his guardian."
With these words, a golden fire sprang up from behind the raven, and a golden bird, wreathed in flame, flew out of the fire, looking much like a majestic phoenix, wreathed in the flames of purity and righteousness. The raven, seeing that its protégé was finally here, took away the shield, stunning the glaive. As it tried to attack the new avatar on the field, it noticed what it was. The avatar was a double-headed eagle, the physical embodiment of the Imperium of man, and the seal under which this puny mortal race hunted his kin around the universe. With a screech, the golden eagle dived at the glaive, which barley managed to escape the blow. It tried striking back, but the eagle managed to dodge the blow with a swift upward thrust. Another attack from the eagle was deflected by the dull of the blade, and a horrible crackling energy erupted from the collision of the purity and decadence, of good and bad. Both avatars were blown backwards by the force of the energy outburst. The glaive was the first to recover from the energy blow, and it aimed a deadly blow right at the meeting point of the two necks of the eagle. It would have made contact, if it weren't for the raven. The black feathered bird had thrown itself in front of the glaive, and the massive weapon had pierced the raven instead of the eagle. Johan, being stunned at the actions of the raven, heard a voice in his head. The voice was weak, and it seemed that it was at the end of its time inside his head. In rasping breath, the voice said
"Iohanne. Listen to me. You are the key to the peace of this universe. Without you, this universe will never know peace, and will fall to the Great Devouerer. You alone of all the mon-kreigh possess the spark required to be a farseer. You alone can bring peace to our war-torn universe! Fight on, and my spirit may yet see peace…."
When the voice died off, Johan's mind felt cold, as if some presence had left it very rapidly. He saw the raven disintegrate, and then he saw the glaive aim to take another blow at him. He jumped out of the way, and prepared a counter strike. The daemon, not expecting this, was hit full force by the attack. Ishamel had never in his life been in so much pain. He felt the adamantium-hard claws of the eagle tear into the blade of the glaive, and then he felt something. It was small at first, then it grew into a sensation that causes all his senses to tremble in fear. He tasted it first. He tasted the tang of cordite in the air, he tasted cold steel, covered in warm blood, he tasted the taste of a never-ending war. The next sense that noticed it was his smell. He smelled the burning of motor oil, he smelled the smell of sweat, and he smelled the smell of death, as rotten cadavers on the battlefield. Then his last senses bombarded him all at once. He saw millions upon millions of men, clad in flak armor, marching in perfect rank and file, under the banners of the Imperial Guard. He saw millions of armored constructs, led by the behemoths of the Legions Titanica, and in the footsteps rumbled Leman Russes, Chimeras, artillery pieces, and the fearsome Baneblade and Shadowsword tanks. He saw millions of starships, the imperial eagle emblazoned proudly upon the armored prow of each one, moving out into the void, deployed as if going to a great naval engagement like the days of old. He felt the rumble of the combined forces going off to the warzone. What happened next, he was not ready for. All of his senses combined, and he saw this force again. Trillions of guardsmen, tanks, and starships, all marching under a flaming double headed eagle. The earth shook with their steps, and the sky roared at the presence of so many starships. All these forces were marching and singing
"Emperor of all mankind!
Imperator of Terra
He who smites the traitor down,
He who kills the Xenos scum,
Forward Guardsmen! Forward Guardsmen!
We are here to serve but him!
Him on Terra, Imperator,
And His Glorious Imperium!"
This roar of men, and the roar of machinery, and the roar of guns, and the roar of the Imperium drove itself into Ishmael's head. He tried to fight it, but it only got louder, only more voices added themselves to the chant praising the Emperor. At the last moment, the golden flaming eagle dove down upon the stunned spirit of the glaive. Not having the time to aptly dodge the deathblow, Ishmael pulled a risky manuver. He pulled his soul out of the avatar, right as the eagle's claws tore through the blade, and the arcane runes stopped glowing. Being back in his body, Ishmael got his bearings. He saw that Johan was still channeling his spirit into the avatar, and Ishmael knew he had an opportunity. He dove at Johan, fully intent on stealing his soul, for no mortal had ever put him through such pain. As he was charging forward, he was hit by something in the side. He howled in rage, and looked down to where a large hole had been left in his side by a large caliber sniper bullet. He looked up into the audience, and noticed that there was a young woman, no older than 30, reloading a very large, very strange xenos rifle. He started gathering up energy to break the field surrounding the arena, and found that his psychic powers, with the exception of the most basic psychic abilities, had been nullified. He screamed in agony as his scarred mind tried to contain the swirling energies he had brought into this universe. When Johan heard the scream, he was snapped out of the channeling. When he saw him screaming, he said, with contempt in his voice
"See, daemon. See what I can do? Do not underestimate me in the future, for your downfall has been, and will be predetermined if this is all you can do!"
With this, Johan threw himself at the daemon, fully intending on striking down the disabled warp-spawn. However, he had underestimated the daemon's remaining power, and as he was in mid air, he was met with a stunning blow to the chest. He flew back in the air, and landed on one knee 15 feet away from the daemon. He shakily stood up, and prepared for a second charge, but the daemon beat him to it. Flying towards him, the daemon called on whatever powers it could manage, and drew its energy into a large axe. The daemon swung his axe at the nape of Johan's neck, and Johan ducked the blow, coming back with an upward slice, which cut a slit across the daemon's abs. The daemon, unfazed by such a small wound, struck down to try and catch Johan. Not having enough time to dodge, Johan brought his sword above his head, and grabbed the back of the blade with his free hand. Ethereal blade contacted mortal blade with a crash like lightening, and the daemon was the first to respond from the shock of the contact. Using what was left of his warp energy, he shot a psychic bolt at the dazed Johan, who was struck and clearly wounded by the blow. He got back up about 5 feet, and proceeded to charge it. Johan faked a downward slash, the jumped above the daemon's block, and kicked the daemon in the head with his steel-toed boots. This created a sickening crunch, as the daemon's jaw was broken, and blood and rotten teeth flew everywhere. The daemon was about to strike back, as the move had exposed Johan's side, when another bullet from the sniper in the audience thudded into his left bicep, tearing the muscle clean off the arm, and boring through most of the bone on the arm. The daemon, howling in agony, charged into the field around the arena. The shields flickered, and then shut down as the daemon contacted with them. Unfazed by this temporary holdup, the daemon continued its charge at the woman. As it was getting there, the woman threw aside her sniper rifle, and drew a katana and a smaller dagger, wickedly curved, and lined with strange patterns on the blade. As the daemon approached, she entered a defensive stance, and as the daemon struck, the lady blocked with the katana, and stabbed it in the thigh with the dagger. The daemon howled in agony, feeling as though its entire thigh were burning in fire. The woman said
"Feel that, daemon? That is a Blade of Reason, and tool used by many for interrogation, but few for battle. Feel it burn your thigh, where there are relatively few nerve endings, and then imagine what it would feel when I stabbed you, say, here!"
She then stabbed the daemon in its left shoulder. Ishmael was so numb with pain that he wasn't thinking anymore. Never in his immortal life had he experienced so much pain, and all because of two, no, three mortals. It was that damn inquisitor's fault that he was like this. As he was thinking this, he saw an opportunity to attack the girl, who was still trying to pull the dagger out from where it was lodged in Ishmael's shoulder bone. Blind to the pain it was causing, Ishmael struck down, fully intent on cleaving the girl's neck from her shoulders. However, Johan managed push her out of the way, and to throw his body in the way of the blow, and so, instead of decapitating the girl, the blow thudded into Johan's left shoulder, exactly where the dagger had been imbedded in Ishmael's shoulder. Johan howled in pain, and his left arm went limp. The daemon used this as an opportunity, and threw Johan's body off the axe. Johan landed 10 feet away on his left arm, and there was a sickening snap as Johan's crumpled arm collapsed under the weight of his body landing on top of it. He howled in agony, and grabbed his sword with his right hand, preparing to defend himself from the next blow. The daemon charged him, and detecting the blow, Johan dodged and started running back down to the arena. Feet pounding on the rockcrete steps, Johan reached the ledge that separated the seating from the arena. Without a moment's hesitation, he jumped down into the arena, and landing in a roll, grabbed Ulronic's unused bolter. Praying to the Emperor, Johan aimed the gun at the advancing form of the daemon as it advanced more slowly towards him. Noting that the daemon must be losing power, as it hadn't be as fast or as smart as it was, Johan braced his arm, and fired the bolter one handed. He emptied an entire clip at the daemon, shots thudding into the sand and the rockcrete of the arena. Shooting such a heavy weapon one handed wasn't very accurate, but Johan did manage to land one bolter shell, which thudded into the daemon's abdomen, and then detonated, blowing what were once bits of organs out the back of the daemon. Seeing an opportunity, the girl charged the daemon, preparing to decapitate it. As she did, the daemon turned around, and with fire in its eyes, shoved its fist right through the girl's upper abdomen. Johan watched the girl's body crumple, and then watched as the daemon pulled out a gore-covered fist and prepared to snap her neck. Johan lunged towards the daemon, and shoulder tackled the daemon right as it grabbed for the girl's neck. The both of them went flying, and as Johan watched the girl's breathing grow a little weaker, he knew he had to end this fight. So, he tried the technique that had been used on him earlier. He re-manifested his avatar, and entered the mind of Ishmael.
Ishmael was about to get back up and attack when he felt something push into his mind. It was almost as agonizing as the dagger, and it was all Ishmael could do so summon and maintain a broken, diminished shade of his avatar. The blade of the summoned glaive was broken, and the runes were all scratched out. The delicately etched handle was broken in many places, and the blade was dulled and chipped in many places. Seeing this weakness, the eagle dove, and easily made contact, and it all happened again. The men. The smell. The roar. The Imperium in all its glory! Marching to war, guided by a figure dressed all in white! The man stared at the glaive, and Ishmael felt a more piercing pain than any he had felt thus far. He watched in horror as the man in white, took the glaive and shattered it with one hand. The broken pieces fell to the ground, only to be trampled underfoot by millions of Guardsmen, all marching in time…all singing…all going to fight for that man. The song, the song! Ishmael howled in agony as it rang clearer than clarion calls.
"Emperor of all mankind!
Imperator of Terra
He who smites the traitor down,
He who kills the Xenos scum,
Forward Guardsmen! Forward Guardsmen!
We are here to serve but him!
Him on Terra, Imperator,
And His Glorious Imperium!"
The song rang through his head, as more voices, and yet more voices all added their strains of praise to the cacophony of war. Ishmael tried to shut it out, to close his ears, but even screaming would not stop the unending tide of men, all single-mindedly determined, all marching…all marching! Ishmael screamed it terror. He screamed until he could scream no more. He saw the eagle, hovering above the unending army, marching, forever marching. Like the tide, it was inevitable. The eagle shone brighter, and the men sang louder, until Ishmael couldn't take it anymore. The glaive, shattered underfoot, vanished, and Ishmael broke psychic connection. As he got up, he saw the human chanting something. His chanting grew louder and louder, and at the last six words "Et Imperator Invocato Diabolus Daemonica Exorcism!" a raging portal opened up behind Ishmael. He screamed, but he felt his physical form melt away from him, until he was just a spirit. As the last vestiges of his soul drifted into the warp he saw an after image of the mind war. He saw the Guardsmen marching into the distance, but this time he thought he heard a different hymn
"Ever forward Guardsmen!
Marching ever more!
Bringing Terra's knowledge
By the fires of war!"
As he heard this, his soul fell, screaming into the abyss.
Johan coughed, and looking at the wounded form of the woman, bandaged her, and carried her out of the arena. He walked into the surrounding town, and asked for a doctor. When he reached the doctor, he paid him for his services and protection, and then, making sure that the woman was taken care of first, passed out on the floor.
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HOLY GOD! ITS OUT!
Sorry for the delay, I'm not going to make excuses, but I've been on the run from the ultramarines for a while. I went terminator tipping, and their hunting me down! Help!
A/N: The first hymn is to the tune of "Hallelujah, Sing to Jesus" and the second hymn is to the tune of "Onward Christian Soldiers!". If anyone knows the actual hymn numbers of these and the edition in which those are the numbers, please tell me so I can tell others. Or put it in a review.
A/A/N: Think of the force field around the arena as the reverse of a refractor field. That's why she could shoot through it, but it took Ishmael a little effort to get through it.
As I said last chappie, I always welcome any and all reviews, because it makes me feel good. Honestly this isn't my favorite chapter, cause I think its kinda short. But yea, flames will still be used to cook my steaks, so send me as much as you want.
Also, I am still accepting characters if people want me to incorporate their characters into this story. However, they cannot be Mary Sues or whatever. So you cant be like "dude my guy is named Pimpy McPimpenstein, and he's a sup4h l33t orc who wields two tyranids as clubs, has lascannons instead of eyeballs, and the only languages he speaks are l33t, klingon, and Portuguese." So just make it realistic, and preferably human, eldar, or tau, cause it's kinda hard to work other races in.
The last thing is, I want people to send emails to me telling me what alien race Johan should be shipped to fight first. Cause I wanna know what ya'll think.
Next Chapter
Guardsman-04: Going, Guessing, and Guardsmen?