Check the bottom of the chapter for notes.
"Sors wasn't always a blasted shithole you know. It was actually a nice enough place for most of my life. Still nothing much, but we've heard way worse from most other worlds. That was until about 3 weeks ago, until..." Her reluctance to share had not eased in the slightest, he noted.
"Until what?"
"Until...what the wall of guns calls the Incident."
"Wall of guns?"
She gave him a look. "Imperial Guard. You know, I can't exactly tell you about it if you keep interrupting me."
Kronos exhaled to himself. He was being bossed around by a child. But nonetheless, he needed cooperation, and he was hardly one to get it by extreme means. The child's lack of tact and bravery had to be commended at least. "Very well, I shall reserve my questions for later. You may continue."
"Good," a small, cocky smile graced her lips, but only for the briefest of moments, as she went back to recounting the grim events. "Far as I know, a bunch of psycho cultist nutjobs had apparently taken over the government from the inside-out. And three weeks ago they...did something. I still don't know what. But it made the wall of guns batshit angry. So they stormed the planet."
Kronos saw as the girl's tone became increasingly uneasy while telling her tale. Something certainly had happened to her. Exactly what he would simply inquire about later, though he doubted he'd get a straight answer.
"They got slaughtered, somehow. Last I heard from their vox-comms they're waiting for a big fleet to retake the system," she paused for a moment. "And that's basically all I know."
"May I ask my questions now?" Kronos's thirst for knowledge was hardly satisfied, and he was not exactly in the mood to be courteous, but showing his displeasure through outward hostility would be a stupid choice. This child was his only guide on this planet, and fostering trust between them was crucial.
"Sure, whatever, go ahead."
"In what Segmentum are we located? Where exactly is this planet?"
"Uuuuuh," she scrunched he facial features. Kronos once again cursed his luck. "They don't tell the local populace anything beyond that we're in the Segmentum Obscurus. But I've heard from the Guards that we're part of a Sector called Victoria, Sub-sector Riptide. Both dumb names if you ask me."
Well, that alleviated some of his concerns. But it only raised new ones. He had never heard of this Sector before, but then again, that could just be attributed to Imperial expansion or shifting designations. Even they could not hope to comprehend the sheer amount of space the Imperium possessed. Though, that did raise another question:
"How did you manage to access the vox-comm of this Imperial Guard?"
Mira's face immediately became hard as steel. Her eyes were cast to the floor again, and he was sure she'd rather have yelled at him again. But...she did not.
"Two guards I saw a while back," her voice was shaky, her expression unreadable, as her eyes stared into the ground as if wanting to pierce the very core of the planet. But she did not yield. "Have you ever seen two men so hungry they're fighting on who's going to eat the other?"
He suspected he did not need to answer that.
"Yeah, well I have. Thankfully, they stopped when they saw me," her expression was unreadable. But her voice was not. It was cracking. "In other words, what looked like an easier meal."
Kronos could not muster anything more than a silent nod.
"I shot both of them before they had the chance to get near me. Idiots had even lost their damn Lasguns. But that fucking look on the both of them..."
"You may stop speaking about that particular subject if it is uncomfortable for you."
She gave a grunt of acceptance. Her expression lightened, but only by a little. "They had a vox-caster there. It worked for all of 5 minutes, before the battery went dead. I screamed at it a bunch before that happened. Obviously, nobody was listening. Otherwise, someone would've come for...those guys. But the broadcast from the other side went through just fine. And that's how I got some info on what the Hell was happening."
They walked in silence for some time, Kronos' curiosity satiated for now if only because of the awkward situation.
"It wasn't even the first time I killed someone. It wouldn't be the last either," he looked at her. She was holding herself. But the minuscule tears were all too visible to his keen eyes.
Kronos did not know how to respond to that. So he let the silence descend upon them once more, as their advance was steady, but mired in tension. In that moment, something had changed in his mind. The girl in front of him was not merely an annoying brat with some sense of survival, as he had pined her down for. She was a child soldier, one forged in the fires of whatever Hell had been unleashed upon this world, and clearly showing for it.
The walk was long. Arduous even, for a normal human. But he did not care. The crashing tides of exhaustion had rusted his core for this long. But he would not yield, not now. He turned his head to the child. Killer. Survivor. Savior. They too were beset by tiredness, and just like him, they refused to show any sign of weakness.
"We're here."
The sudden break from the monotonous sound of their footsteps jumpstarted his systems. The heat, the strain, his own inner turmoil. They had prevented him from seeing in front of himself, stuck on autopilot as his mind droned on with concerns about the Emperor, the Imperium and his brothers. So oblivious in fact, that he had failed to notice the virtual palace in front of him.
Quite certainly a noble home, it was a thing of perverse beauty. Large, dominating over the horizon, removed from the rest of the city, and yet possessing of it's own magnificent garden staving off the presence of the desert, it was clad in marble and precious metals. But, it's grandeur did not deter from it's corruption. If anything, it enhanced it. Blood was present even here, and a light layer of dust, rust and ruin had settled on the building. Broken windows, dried decorative plants, dried up soil, all served to enhance the unease of the place. But at this point, Kronos did not care. As long as it was not literally filled with hostiles, any resting place would do.
"This...is your home?"
She gave off a hoarse laugh. "Hardly. This is just the least shithole place I managed to find after the whole Incident thing. Belonged to a family of wealthy fucks that got screwed over hard when the population fell into anarchy. Turns out all that political power and money don't mean jack when everybody's going crazy."
"How have you survived here?"
"Scavenging off nooks and crannies, covering my tracks, never staying up too late like a good little girl. Oh, and I sleep with my gun."
Kronos furrowed his brow. "That does not sound safe."
"Safer than being without it."
He sighed, again. He'd found himself doing that a lot lately. "Can we go inside?"
"Course, ya goof."
Mira rushed forward through the dead garden, seemingly used to the gloomy exterior. She stopped in front of the large, ornate door, digging for something in her pockets before producing a key. The massive door was moved with some effort, as a thin cloud of dust rose from the ground, as if it hadn't been opened for decades. Turning around, crossing her arms and legs while leaning on the door, a hint of he cockiness returned, but it was far tempered by the difficult trip:
"Well, come on in. It's not gonna bite ya."
Kronos had not the mental training to retort to such. "Is there a room where I may cleanse myself and my equipment?"
"Duh. There's like a million rooms in this bastard. I've been here for a week and I still haven't looked everywhere. Just pick one and do whatcha gotta do."
"Duly noted," Kronos was suddenly reminded of another need as his mouth felt rougher than the desert they had been walking in. "And as for food and water?"
"I'll get them to ya. I got enough laying around to last a while."
Kronos' eyes widened just the slightest bit in surprise. "You...would do that?"
"Don't get any ideas Banana Man, I'm keeping you around cause you're a good killing machine. Oh, and the whole reason I brought you here with no fuss is cause of that helmet being off. If I noticed any fishy business, I would've shot you."
Ah, but of course. It made sense, but he nonetheless could not help but feel as if that was not entirely true. Replying with a final nod, he passed through the door, not awaiting a response. His lumbering height made it difficult to navigate, despite the house being admittedly very spacious, while the sheer weight of himself and his armor made the wood floor creak uncomfortably.
He scouted the hall he was traveling down. He had no knowledge of the architectural design tendencies of buildings on this planet, so he simply decided to settle on the largest door he could find, which was located at the end of the hall. Swinging the gate open, he came upon a large room, thankfully. Likely designed for recreational activity, if the massive tubs in it were any indication. Perhaps a communal bath, or more likely, a spa?
Regardless, Kronos did not care. The Custodian set his Spear aside, hanging it on a conveniently placed shelf of marble jutting from the wall. With that, he set about the monumental task of removing his armor. He needed to check for damages his system report had missed, repair the ones already sustained and, reluctantly, search himself for any Warp mutations or afflictions. Hydraulic locks and joints clicked and clacked as they were released, pieces being carefully set aside.
Each Custodian Armor set was a precious relic, a magnificent sculpture of death and war crafted by the most brilliant engineers and artisans in the Imperium. Each a unique piece of art never to be replicated, much like their wielders. With careful handling, each was projected to last a thousand years. Kronos was not about to treat it like a toy, despite it being designed for far more pressuring experiences.
Setting the last piece down and stepping off his armored boots, Kronos was left in a tight-fitting body glove. He really wished the owners would have installed a mirror there, but from a quick glance he could see that nothing was wrong with him...physically speaking that was. His new Warp sense was more than a little concerning, given the fact that one of the hallmarks of Chaotic favor was additional abilities.
But alas, he would have to consult with a specialized psyker on the matter, and he suspected this world had none to spare. On the bright side, his musculature had not atrophied in he slightest despite the undoubtedly substantial amount of time spent in a passive state. Well, if metaphysical torture could be considered "passive".
Kronos then inspected every individual piece of his armor. Every Custodian was taught basic upkeep and repairing procedures, thought the more intricate components of course needed their own specialized Tech-priest. Thankfully, aside from the more advanced environmental control features, the armored suit seemed to be in perfect working condition, if not looking a little worse for wear with all the dirt and sand clinging to it, dulling it's golden color. The noticeable scratch delivered by his fateful encounter with the Herald long ago was also still there. But nonetheless, should battle come, and he knew it would, it would at least not spontaneously fall apart.
His duties done, Kronos at last allowed himself to relax, picking a spot of marble that at the very least looked soft to sit down. All the exhaustion, the hunger and the thirst crashed into him like a battleship. He had been awake for so long, wandered the unforgiving wastes for hours and only now did he allow himself a single moment of respite. His tired mind was currently fighting a war against the rest of his body, arguing which need was to be satiated first.
But instead of giving into his ravenous state, Kronos decided to relax by entering meditation. A basic procedure that all Custodians were taught to conserve energy and lighten the nerves, aided by by their enhanced physiology, hardly needing of any rest at all.
But although he tried to calm his mind, now without a set goal for some time, he was preyed by his own doubts. What had happened to the Emperor during his leave? What about the Imperium at large? And as of the traitors? He knew that Horus was dead, the Emperor had vanquished him to a plane beyond even the Chaos Gods' ability to bring back, but that did not ensure the death of his Legion, the other Chaos Legions or their Primarchs.
And of course, his mind could not help but wander to the horrible tortures that he had been subjected to. Tortures that would have driven most men mad, and nearly did so to him as well. Traumatizing memories that played as fresh as the day they were inflicted upon him. His desire to end it all, his absolute despair. The lowest of lows. He could barely hold back from hitting something in rage.
His thoughts were however, perhaps mercifully, interrupted by a knocking on his door. Snapping to full alertness, he jumped to his feet, only to remember that there was no other resident in the house besides his ally. He sighed. The Warp and the War in the Webway had certainly done wonders for his paranoia.
"You may enter."
He noted that Mira had switched to more casual wear from her drab uniform. But he also noted that she did keep her shotgun strapped to her belt. Perhaps he was not the paranoid one after all? Other than that, the outfit was far more loose and civilian. A baggy green shirt, khaki pants and...
"You are barefoot?"
"Huh?" that seemed to have caught her off guard, though she also was noticeably surprised the second she walked into the room. "Oh, yeah, I just don't like wearing any shoes or socks when I don't need to."
"Disregarding basic clothing is ill-advised in combat scenarios."
She humphed, looking like she wanted to say something, but chose against it. A beat passed.
"What is that on you?"
Kronos stood speechless for a few seconds before realizing what she meant. "A body glove. It helps us interface with our armors, converts it into a second skin analogue."
"Uh, alright," the girl diverted her eyes to the floor. She still seemed troubled by something.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Uh, well..." she shuffled her feet. "I just always thought you guys...uh, were just regular folks inside the armor. You know, as if it was just a mechanized walker. I didn't expect...this."
This? Was there something wrong with him? "Elaborate."
She gave him a look. "Are you serious right now?"
"Yes. May you tell me why I look aberrant to you?"
"Well, you're...like an 8 and a half foot tall monster for Emperor's sake. I didn't expect that!"
Kronos furrowed his brow. "I see."
A moment of awkward silence fell for an instant, before Mira spoke again:
"Anyway, I brought you some food and water," she immediately produced a makeshift bottle and an emergency ration bar from somewhere. Kronos gladly accepted the gifts as she threw them, catching them effortlessly. He consumed the bar handed to him near instantly. It tasted practically like plastic, and he would bet a fortune it was manufactured with about as much care, but it would reenergize him. It was something, and therefore was better than nothing. He also made quick work of the bottle, draining away it's content as he could feel his biology stabilize itself.
"Jeez, you must've been on the brink of death, going through those that quick. How long have you been without a proper snack or drink?"
"That...would be difficult to ascertain. But, you could help by telling me the current galactic date."
"Last I checked, it was the year 998 of the 41st millennium, in the standard Imperial date at least."
A beat.
"Mira," He addressed her by name. This already creeped her out. "Did you say 41st millennium?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Did you not mean 31st?"
"No. It's 41st. I'm 100% sure of it," She gave him another look. "How can you mistake the freaking millennia? Year, I get, but seriously?"
His expression had become unreadable. He was staring at the ground, and she could swear he was shaking. "Mira...please...leave."
"What do you mean?" She was growing worried now. "Is there something wrong with-"
"Leave. Now."
He might've said it, but she knew there was no request in his voice. As much as she wasn't as scared of him as any normal reasonable person would be, she knew that arguing would likely not end well. So she did, closing the doors behind her. A second or two later, a massive crash was heard throughout the walls of the building, practically rocking it to it's core. It was the first time in a long time that she'd felt terrified.
The hit had cracked the wall. His bare knuckles had been scratched. He did not care. He hit the wall again. The spider web of cracks grew larger. And he hit again. And again. And again.
And again.
The wall shattered, spilling it's makeup onto another room. His fist was bleeding, but once more, he did not care. Some tiny part of him wished his troubles would go away as the wall had. Spill out of him as his blood did. They did not.
Betrayal, guilt, anguish, rage, sadness, fear, insanity. All these emotions were raging a battle upon his mind, and none seemed to be winning definitively. His body was stuck now, a machine with no master, unable to do anything except wait out the inferno within.
But increasingly, a feeling spread out among the wartorn battlegrounds of his psyche, blotting out most others with it's sheer presence: the desire to simply let loose. Leave everything behind, rage like a wild animal destroying all in his path. Forsake the Emperor, forsake the Imperium, forsake everything that he had ever held dear.
It was an insidious freedom, but it was freedom nonetheless. Freedom from caring, freedom from anguish, and from his torment. It was a poison, but to his lips it tasted oh so sweet. And for a few moments, he did revel in that sweet, noxious, all-consuming poison. Until he didn't. In that fleeting moment, trapped between sanity and insanity, something sparked within him, a clarity. Starting as a small ember, but eventually growing greater, swallowing the venom, using it as fuel, his mind was cleared.
He was of the Legio Custodes, the greatest among humanity's champions. The Emperor's Talon, the sundering of his enemies. He was genetically grafted and engineered as a mere babe into a practical demigod of death. He was not designed to fall to the follies of lesser men. His Emperor, his gene-sire, had a plan for him, and that was all that mattered. The thousands of years, they were a tragic loss of touch for him, maddening even, but he could not allow himself to falter now, when his Master needed him most.
So he locked his emotions, all his doubts and worries deep within his heart, as he had been taught to so long ago, and soldiered on. There would be time for mourning, for him to question himself and the state of affairs in the current Imperium, but that would have to wait. His journey to Terra came first and foremost.
"For the Emperor. For mankind," his voice was barely more than a whisper as he went to don his armor once more.
Mira was beginning to worry.
Of course, it wasn't exactly easy to not worry when a giant superhuman was pissed off for seemingly no reason, but what was more troubling was that any noise from the room had stopped. She had heard a few loud hits after she had left, but now...nothing. She instinctively gripped the gun on her belt. After all, she didn't know this guy that well, and she didn't know what he was capable of. Even though she doubted her gun would be able to even scratch his armor, he hardly seemed reasonable enough at the moment to even think about putting it on.
Thinking this, she was startled immediately when the doors to his temporary quarters swung open. She brought her shotgun into firing position, only to see the lumbering golden giant she had grown familiar with emerge. But she was only scared for the slightest of moments, as she noticed his stance was normal, and so was his walking. Whatever had happened seemed to be over now, thankfully.
"What the Hell was that?"
"I...cannot explain at this current time."
"I mean, getting mad over the freaking date? Or, Hell, not even knowing said date?"
"Mira, please, drop it," his voice was unwavering, a condensed beam of resolve, but even to her there was something wrong with it. "Discussing what happened back there is not something that I am comfortable with, nor capable of, at this current time. I must regretfully ask you to stop inquiring me about it for the foreseeable future."
Mira gave it a thought. On the one hand, she didn't like to be bossed around, even if her companion had possibly every right in the Imperium to do so based on legends she'd heard. On the other, he seemed very adamant on where he stood, so maybe it wasn't a good idea to push him further.
"Sure, fine, whatever. But I have a few questions of my own."
He raised his hand. "Not now. For being my beneficiary, I will make sure to answer them in due time, but swiftness is of the upmost importance at this moment. I must ask you of one last favor: I need to get off this planet."
Mira was not amused. "And what makes you think I'd help you with that assuming I even know how to?"
"I can offer you a lot," he could, once again, not believe he was bargaining with a child. But she had been surviving on this planet for three weeks all on her lonesome now, and likely grew up on it her entire life. She was an invaluable strategic asset. "There are very few things a Custodian cannot acquire."
"And what ensures me you're not just gonna turn tail the second you get off this rock, assuming you can even do that?"
"You...tire me, child. A Custodian's honor is of greater importance than his blood, and I would die before spilling it. Yours would be a deal of honor, a debt that would graft itself into my soul. My word on this is the closest to absolute you can get. Now I say again, will you help me?"
Silence. She seemed to be pondering over the idea. He found it quite shameful that she would even need to, but in a very short while, she had her answer:
"Yes."
A simple affirmation. No sass, no witty remarks. Merely a gesture of acceptance, and an extended hand towards him to boot. He extended his own, rocking hers in gentle shake.
"You don't turn your back on me, got it?"
Kronos nodded as their hands disconnected. "Now might you inform me on how we can acquire a ship?"
"The only place I've ever seen ships leave and enter the planet is the capital. But last time I checked, that was nutball central. The cultists are pretty much entirely concentrated around there."
"Then it is time to move, unless you have more need to rest?"
"Wha-what, no, but...are you really expecting to siege the capital?"
"Excuse if I am unconvinced that a batch of cultists, particularly deranged and well-equipped as they may be, can prevent me from completing a simple infiltration job," he was now checking his Guardian Spear. "I would suggest you put on your former attire, along with storing some additional food and drink. I would prefer if we began immediately."
Mira wanted to debate him on that, but she supposed a promise was a promise. This also left her with something to think about after so long. As she went to her room to retrieve her uniform, she realized during the last few weeks she had never thought about the future. It was kind of hard to think outside of the present in the circumstances she was in after all. But now, at last, she had a possible lifeline outside of the hellhole her planet had become. But...what was she supposed to do with it? What favor could she even ask of the golden warrior? A ship? A home outside of her planet? Fortune to acquire either? ...Finding her parents?
She shook her head as she changed. Later, now was not the time. Besides, they hadn't even gotten to the capital yet. There was still quite a bit of chance they'd just die during the journey, but she was honestly sick of waiting around anyway. She put on her boots last, grabbing a few extra rations and more water as she walked back to the door, glancing at the room one last time. Who knew, with luck, this would be the last time she'd ever see it...one way or the other.
The golden warrior was waiting for her, staring out of the window intently. She faked a cough to get his attention.
"I see that you are ready."
"Yeah."
"Good. Please try to keep up."
"Keep up?" she scrunched her face in annoyance. "What do you mean "keep up", I was leading just fine last time."
"I was tired, malnourished and dehydrated when you found me. I am not so now," he strapped his Spear to the magnetic harness on his back. "The average walking pace of one such as I is around the peak speed of an average human."
"Oh. How the Hell am I supposed to follow you?"
"I will attempt to consciously slow down. Any distance between us will likely be beneficial anyway, as I am far more suited for scouting and threat disposal. You could at most provide cover fire while staying at a safe distance."
"...Fine."
Kronos nodded as he opened the main door. As they were making their way out of the ruined garden, the Custodian piped up again.
"Where to exactly?"
Mira slowed as she dug through her pockets, pulling out a rudimentary compass, checking it before pointing with her finger.
"South-East, that's where the capital should be from here."
Kronos nodded again, as their walk through the unforgiving dunes began once more. He was taking the lead already, spying out where the sand mounds gave way to the horizon. Nothing could be seen for miles around them. He supposed it would take hours, perhaps days to arrive at this capital city. There was only one option left. He had considered it, but was not particularly fond of actually implementing it. Yet, they needed to move faster.
"Change of plans," he muttered as he turned around to face his companion.
"What do you mean?"
"You are far too slow. It will take days for us to cross this expanse at such a rate," the Custodian extended his hand. "I will carry you."
Mira was, unsurprisingly, incredulous at his suggestion.
"Alright, I've said you're crazy a few times, but I'll reiterate: you're crazy," Kronos really was starting to doubt his own plan, not of it's own validity, but mostly of his temperamental partner. "Assuming I even let you carry me around like a goddamned ragdoll, you'll be slowed down anyway by my weight, negating the whole purpose of carrying me in the first place."
"Do you weigh over 3,000 kilograms?"
The girl seemed on the verge of popping a blood vessel. "OF COURSE NOT! Why would even ask that?! Are you actually retarded?"
"If you weigh less than that, then you will not impact my pace in the slightest."
Her anger deflated immediately, as she could give back a blank stare. "Did you just...make a joke?"
Kronos allowed himself a small smirk. "I may limit myself far more in ways of expression, but that does not mean I am socially inept. That being said, I ask again, will you let me carry you?"
Before Mira could interject in fumes again, he decided to attempt and show her the tactical necessity of this course of action. "The faster we arrive at this capital, the faster we can leave the planet, and the faster I can petition my fellow Custodes to answer my debt of honor to you. My sustainable speed is a little under 100 kilometers per hour. I think you can understand the difference it would make."
Mira opened and closed her mouth, clearly intending to come up with a retort, but finding none, she at least exhaled, very annoyed. "Fine, I'll sit on your back. If I fall off, I am going to shoot you in the face. And also, stop convincing me to do stupid things."
Kronos nodded. Hostile, but at least cooperative, and thankfully easily swayed by logical deduction, especially tied to her interests. Perhaps his companion could feasibly help him outside of simple directions after all.
Kronos crouched, allowing Mira to climb on his back, murmuring almost incomprehensibly what he could only assume to be curses, as she navigated a practical forest's worth of ornate, jutting protrusions engraved in his armor. Settling on his backpack at last, she seemed slightly uncomfortable.
"Oh, and no funny business, got it?" Kronos nodded once more, puzzled internally. He did not like the tone of that statement, nor the implications that came with it.
Companion secured to his back, Kronos launched himself into a sprint. A light activity for him, many automobiles had difficulty maintaining such speeds for extended periods of time. He could swear Mira muttered a string of curses whenever they hit a bump. He continued so for about 30 minutes judging from his suit's internal clock, before he saw something that caught his attention: a small glint in the sky.
Slowly, it grew closer, brighter. And louder. Perhaps a small meteor to the untrained eye, but his eyes were far more than trained. They were outright superhuman, and even through the haze of it's reentry cloak of fire, he could make out a shape. A shape that grew more recognizable the more it approached. A Drop Pod.
Roughly half a minute after he had first spotted it, it crashed several kilometers away with a small pfap, which at ground level would likely have a been a deafening shockwave of sheer noise. Mira only seemed to have taken notice of it mere moments before it touched the ground, be she too, seemed to be unsurprised.
"About fuUUUUUUUUUUUCK, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" she kept screaming at him as he accelerated to at least three times his previous speed, making out more symbolism on his target as he got closer. Familiar yet unknown at the same time, there was one outstanding symbol that prevailed over all, deducing their identity for him: a single, large, lightning bolt.
Author's notes: Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew, another long one. Took some time. And for all of you worried, yes, I will come back to Kronos' ANGST. I am not even close to done torturing the poor bastard. Oh, and yeah, say hello to Mira properly everyone; she's here to stay a while :P
That being said, I'll give anyone a cookie who guesses which SPEHS MEHREENS are gonna be in this (It's really not that hard, my cookie bank account is going to run dry. Big Sad).
iamnotenoughofasmellynerdtoknowwarhmmerperfectlygodoyourownresearchyoudumbfucksandmaybecorrectmeaswell
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Otherwise, this is your dead joke signing off again.