Check the bottom of the chapter for notes.
He wept.
His rage, hatred, disbelief, had all but gone. Hours upon hours of hammering into the contents of his chambers had gotten rid of them for the most part.
So now he wept.
He wept for all that had been lost, for nothing to be gained. All the sacrifice, bloodshed, violence and more, all done for naught. A dying Imperium replacing his old home of hope and prosperity.
In his heart, he had already made up his mind. He had nothing to do, but follow the orders he had been given. Ultimately, that was what he was made to do. And they were very clear now. He knew why his father wanted him here.
But his heart was still weeping, nonetheless. He simply could not stop. All his conviction, his determination, his discipline. It could do nothing to stop the tide of emotion. At least, not yet.
So he wept, until he could not weep anymore.
Nergui did not need to open his eyes to tell who had passed into his personal chambers.
"Batu."
Though almost entirely sure of his pure nature, the stench of the Warp remained on his brother even now, and would do so for a while. It was only another reminder for the Son of Thunder to remain ever vigilant, for ruination could and often would strike when one was most unaware.
"Stormseer," Batu said in their native tongue, kneeling behind him. Nergui merely dismissed the polite gesture with a wave of his hand, as he rose to his feet.
The warrior before him looked different. He wore the ceremonial robes of their heritage now instead of his powered armor, and his arm was still missing, Chuulunbold having had his hands full to accommodate the replacement of his prosthetic. But beyond that, and the physical wounds still to be found all over his body, his face seemed weathered, as if he had gone through another century of battle.
Nergui could not blame him: this disastrous campaign had taken it's toll on all of them. Of the 40 Battle-Brothers sent to the planet below, less than a quarter had returned alive. The enemy's organization had been masterful, their forces perfectly utilized. Yet, despite that, his brothers had fought like cornered lions, achieving what most post-battle estimates had placed as a 2:1 kill ratio.
Yet, no amount of glory in sacrifice could wash out the bitter taste left behind in the White Scars' mouth, nor the stab at their hearts: they had been duped, drawn to this battle like cattle to a slaughterhouse, all due to the incompetence of other Imperial elements. Squad Daichi, one of the Brotherhood's Assault Squads, and the only one present on-board their ship, had been slaughtered to a man. Other squads, such as Batu's own, had been maimed to a mere few members.
Only a single squad had remained entirely unscathed by the conflict: Squad Baavgai, their resident Devastators, had remained untouched, and that was only because they had been confined to the ship for most of the mission, their expertise not needed for what was supposed to be multiple simultaneous lightning-quick hit-and-runs.
Yet it was they who had braved the expanding nuclear fire clouds of cyclonic torpedoes to rescue the few brothers that had escaped the onslaught below, and that earned them in Nergui's mind valor no lesser than that of the survivors.
"Stormseer?"
Nergui shook his head, clearing his thoughts. The past was buried now, though remains themselves could not be extracted. The ceremonies had been carried out with the upmost speed. More proper ones could be conducted on their return to the rest of the Brotherhood. The burning world would have to serve as adequate cremation for their mortal coils.
"A thousand excuses brother. Recent events have given me much to think about."
"They have...to all of us," Batu admitted sadly. He felt a strong grip on his shoulder. Nergui's smile was kind, and all that was needed to be told was conveyed in that one gesture.
"The campaign draws to a close," Nergui said, looking out of the plexiglass window in front of them, to the burning ashes of the planet below.
"This will not be one for the history books. Certainly not for those of honor at the very least."
"An unfortunate risk we all know must be taken before each mission brother. This is why no foe can be underestimated, no matter how weak they seem."
Batu nodded, deep in introspection, though Nergui opted to not bear witness to his thoughts despite the ease of which he could have done it. He did not need to.
"How is the Custodian?" Batu broke the silence. Nergui was surprised that this was the first thing he asked about, though he supposed it was only natural. Between his sudden appearance on the world, the change in armor he had gone through that Batu had noted before, and his almost certain importance in Nergui's vision, the Emperor's Legionary had been an enigma no one aboard the Crescent Moon could crack.
"Secluded within his temporary chambers. He has not emerged for some time, I have heard. Strange sounds have emanated from that room since then, but he has wished to remain alone, and so alone he remains," Nergui inspected Batu's face. "Why do you ask?"
Batu seemed uncomfortable for a few moments before speaking.
"Although by his side I have fought and by his side I would've gladly died, there is much doubt in my mind about him Stomseer. How would he even be upon such a world? Are they not restricted to guarding the bastion of Terra, forever and always?"
"Officially it is so," the Stormseer nodded. "However, I don't believe you possess doubts that they move around the galaxy in small numbers as they please, correct? It is the job of protectors to know all that plagues the stars after all."
"Yes, but why here? Now? Without even a means to escape? And that armor he wears...that is not the armor of the Custodes."
"Whatever the case may be brother, I'm sure the Kronos will explain himself when he has the time," Nergui spoke with conviction, despite his insecurities. "But at this moment, he is our guest and we should allow him some time to recuperate from our unfortunate escapade. As we should ourselves."
Batu nodded, though Nergui sensed some residual tension in his frame. He was not put at ease yet.
"Is there something else bothering you, Batu?"
He stood still for a few moments, seemingly intent on not replying, though finally he sighed as he turned to look at the Stormseer.
"I worry most about Gan. The boy is shaken immensely. He's seen comrades fall before, but never to this extent. And, he's never..."
"Never seen one of them fall to the Ruinous Powers right before his eyes?"
Batu nodded, eyes solemn.
"If there is one thing I can criticize of him as a warrior and a person Stormseer...he looks too much to the past. It burdens him. That is the very reason he still stubbornly holds on to the Lascannon from his Devastator days, even in missions where it does not fit."
"So you fear this will leave an impression on him? That it will chain him to his grief," Nergui shook his head. "Your worry is not without merit brother, but he is a warrior of the Adeptus Astartes. He shall prevail, adapt to his new reality. It is what we were made for."
He placed his gauntleted hand upon Batu once more. Unlike the later, the Stormseer had not even had the time to remove his armor, looking hulking by comparison.
"Leave him his time to grieve. But do not fret long. He will prevail. We all will. We have to."
"Have you ever considered joining the Chaplaincy, brother?" Batu said, voice neutral though now bearing a small smile upon his lips.
Nergui laughed heartily.
"I believe Bodol would have my head for that one."
Batu marched towards the temporary quarters of the Custodian at a leisurely pace. He needed not hurry. They were Adeptus Astartes, of the First Founding. Even the Inquisition could be made to regard their schedules.
Though they were needed nonetheless. And Batu, along with the rest of the White Scars, were as eager to learn of the Custodian's mission as the Inquisition itself was. Of course, being the highest authority in the Imperium and practically the word of the Emperor Himself, Kronos could easily choose to not disclose the information.
Though he had made a promise, and Batu did not think the golden warrior to be one who did not keep his word.
The door slid open as he walked in, and was greeted with a scene he did not expect.
The room was in absolute shambles. Every piece of furniture had been broken and thrown, as if a hoard of angry beasts had rampaged throughout the chamber. The very walls themselves, made of adamantium, were absolutely filled with impact craters, suspiciously emulating the shape of fists. The lights were dead, either smashed in the carnage or turned off.
But Batu could see clearly, the savage visage in all it's glory. All except it's only possible perpetrator. Before Batu could even think about relaying the troubling development to someone else, a vice grip grabbed him by the throat, a giant's hand seemingly emerging out of nowhere.
He was in full armor now, but the Custodian, even ungarbed save for a loincloth preserving his modesty, was able to heft him up without so much as a single grunt of effort. Now, unchained from his armor, Batu could see the full scope of the warrior underneath: even one of the Adeptus Astartes paled by comparison. Rippling muscles of coiled steel laced a gigantic frame, that nonetheless, much like his armor, maintained a silhouette of agility and grace.
Yet his face was not at all partaking in the noble visage of a perfect human body. His eyes were red, tears yet sliding down his cheeks, and that alone boggled the mind. What could a warrior of the most elite order in the Imperium of Man ever discover that could bring him to tears, short of the Emperor Himself walking again?
But these were not tears of joy. The face before him was contorted into a bitter snarl, halfway between anger and contempt, and before Batu could ever draw a breath to try and get a word out, he was thrown.
Like a ragdoll, he flew through the air before impacting one of the walls, the collision leaving a large dent. Even without the indicators of a helmet on, he could tell where his armor was irrevocably damaged from the snarl of broken machinery.
He looked towards the Custodian, whose looks of fury had resolved into a sullen expression, his madness forgone in the face of something. Again, Batu was interrupted as he tried to speak:
"Thousands of years...so much loss...so much..." the Custodian slumped to his knees, resting his forehead on the floor. Resting immobile there, Batu took it as queue to descend from his ingrained spot on the wall. His armor protested, and so did his body, but he did so nonetheless.
He approached Kronos, keeping a safe distance yet not gripping his weapons. He felt as if that would only make things worse.
"Custodian?"
"Do you know who I am, White Scar?"
Batu was caught surprised by the question, though decided to humor the warrior if only to not allow him to slip into another fit.
"You are Kronos, member of the Adeptus Cus-"
"Wrong," the warrior now arose, and Batu found himself just the slightest bit annoyed at being interrupted yet again. But he couldn't voice that out. "I am Kronos Praesul, Custodian Guard of the 41st Shield Company, of the Legio Custodes. I am a child of the Emperor, a son yet a brother to him. And I am from a time before your ancestors were even born."
Batu quirked his eyebrows at that.
"What are you saying Custodian?" he asked with no little uncertainty in his voice.
"I am saying that through the curse of whatever foul creatures I have been brought into this Hell from, I am not of it. I am a warrior of the 31st millennium, a paragon of the Emperor during our most glorious days and our darkest hours. Not this bloated, infested carcass of an empire that charades around in the corpse of it's former self, built of legends and martyrs."
He turned around from the dumbstruck White Scar, and with terrifying coolness from his previous demeanor, continued to speak as he witnessed the view from his window pane.
"I read all that has happened in those years, and if even a modicum of them contain truth, I must weep until I run out of tears. I see corruption of the ideals of my sire, of our ideals, that boggles the mind and stabs the heart. I see destruction, death, carnage, of a magnitude I have never once observed, even in the stories of Old Night. I see our species' final hour approaching with blinding speed and nothing being done to change, to grow and develop, but only to rot away, to degrade and destroy."
"Custodian...you cannot be serious?"
"Do I appear as someone who would jest in such an occasion White Scar? Do I look like I am joking right now?" he asked now with force, his eyes drilling into the Astartes. "I have half a mind to kill you right now to set an example."
"Custodian, if you are threatening me, then I am sorry but I will have no choice but to retaliate."
"You will not. I have every reason to kill you," he said, a hint of disgust in his voice. "Look at you now: superhumans brought to the level of ignorance of any baseline. Thousands of years, and you too have lost your way. With no Emperor, no Primarchs, not even their original values, you too have become seeped in superstition, retardant tradition and laughable effectiveness. You lay upon a pedestal yes, but a broken one."
"Custodian, I cannot believe the words leaving your mouth. All you are doing is insulting without reason. You cannot honestly believe I will stand for such farce. If you had a legitimate argument, I may very well lay down my head for you to cut off, for you are tantamount to the Emperor's word. But I cannot take such words without consequence. You are not only insulting my honor, but the honor of my Chapter and Brotherhood, while sounding completely delusional."
"Am I?" Kronos said, his tone suddenly neutral, his face betraying nothing now. "Would you like for me to not sound delusional? Would you prefer if I showed you irrefutable proof? I do not think you would Astartes."
"Well I cannot very well continue to tolerate you as you are right now, can I?" Batu replied. "But I will not escalate this if you do not. However, if you are ready to explain and start making sense again, then that is a start."
They stood staring at each-other for a few moments more, almost as if the Custodian was weighing up the warrior before him, before once again closing the distance between them, faster than what Batu could perceive, and grabbed a hold of his shoulder roughly, practically dragging him before his armor.
The ornate suit had been left to one of the corners of the room, practically the only thing untouched by the Custodian's madness. It lay deactivated, it's crimson red optic lenses dull and lifeless.
Yet Kronos seemed to see something in the suit that was not there. Before he could question it, the warrior motioned to it's eyes.
"Look into the suit as it looks into you. It is linked to me, and it's own conscience is already aware of what I know. It will show you what I could never with mere words."
Batu made move to protest, though was quickly captivated by a sudden glint in the suit's "eyes". It was small at first, almost passable for reflected light from the distant stars outside, currently providing the room with it's only source of light.
Then it grew. A glint became a small ember, and that ember soon became a flashlight. And soon those golden orbs encompassed all within his vision, as Batu could only scream at the influx of psychic information.
The door was not so much opened as charged through.
Nergui snapped his head, eyes cackling with tiny lightning tendrils, only to see it was Batu once more. The recent situation truly had his battle instincts on an unnecessary fritz.
Then again, perhaps not, as his brother approached him in shambles, his face wracked with horror.
"Brother, calm yourself," Nergui said, attempting to exert his empathic aura over him. But all the expansion of his soul's influence met with was a trace of something on his brother. Some psychic aftershock, of a higher entity.
Nergui frowned. Was this the work of a daemon? It didn't appear like the psychic smell of one. But nonetheless, the way it had affected his brother was more than suspicious.
"Brother Nergui, you must come. Now," the tone of his voice was as worrying as his appearance, though there was a finality to it that Nergui could not help but go along with. For once, he separated his psychic feeling from his cold logic, realizing that his brother did need him for something important, something dire.
So he nodded, and followed Batu in the closest thing he'd seen to a panicked run in all his centuries of service, not forgetting to grab his staff in the meantime.
The Son of Thunder disconnected from the consciousness he had dipped into at last, feeling blood trickling from his ears.
Unlike Batu, a mind ignorant to the powers of the Empyrean, Nergui had felt every last drop of power and presence behind the soul fragment inside the armor. The will of an aspect of the Emperor, merged with the Custodian's own mind, projected into a voice like thunder inside his mind.
But the harm that had paled in comparison to the truths that laid bare before him. Stories told as ancient legends and proverbs now told to him as simple facts by a mind that had experienced it all, truths he thought adamantine broken and revealed as the lies they were, heresies of the deepest levels shown to him as simple matters of life in ages past.
For the first time in a long time, Nergui found himself speechless as he gazed at the warrior before him. No longer a mere member of the Ten Thousand, an already prestigious title, but something more.
"You now know. Know the pain of loss I have endured. Know the pain of the past, the present, and the future yet to come. Know what I must undertake."
Then, and only then, did Nergui finally respond. He bent the knee. Bent the knee as if his Primarch and gene-sire himself was there before him. There really was no other way to describe the feeling of being in the same room as the man before him. A man from an era he could not even fathom, selected by the Emperor Himself to be an avatar of His will.
"Kronos...by the Emperor, I...am sorry..."
"What is done is done. The past...is in the past. My goal now is to change the present, and shape the future," he said, staring outward, into the void of space itself. "I have lost much. All, perhaps. But that is what makes me stronger. Each one of you has something to hold onto, each person in this decadent empire. I am burned to the bone, stripped of everything I could have. I am nothing, therefore I can be anything. And the Emperor wills I be his weapon of reckoning."
He spoke steady, but his face told all of his current mood. Despite the words leaving his mouth, even now it was full of sullen lines, vistas into the broken soul of the individual below, concealed by sheer willpower and nobility. He looked exactly like so many battered veterans Nergui had seen, human and Astartes alike, men so consumed by that which they fought that they could only keep fighting, for the alternative was to give into their depression and simply lay down to die.
"I will need allies. Ones I can trust. I know no one in this new age. Not one soul," he turned around to stare at him. "But I have always valued those who were willing to fight and die by my side. Will you, Batu, and Gan lend me your aid, Nergui? Can I trust the Sons of the Khan?"
"The answer is always, lord," Batu said, for he really felt there was no more appropriate title. His face was calmer, but he could still see beyond that mask to the soul of the man. And much like his own, it was shook to the core. He could not blame his brother.
How was one supposed to react to such a situation? Nergui was not even entirely convinced it wasn't some daemonic trick, despite hating himself for thinking such blasphemy.
"Good. But we will require far more sway than that. Perhaps so much I cannot hope to gather it all at once. I bring a revolution to this Imperium, commanded by my lord and father. I may even need to battle orally against my own brethren, depending on how these Adeptus Custodes match to my ancient Legio. But first, I believe there is an important meeting we need to attend?"
Nergui too was suddenly reminded of what they were supposed to partake in in a scant few minutes, and nodded his head.
"Establishing good relations with all the Imperial organizations I can manage is a crucial step in what I must do. Even if the very existence of some drive me to wretch. We will meet with the Inquisition, and we will request of them what mere Space Marines cannot."
"My lord?" Batu inquired.
"I have learned much," Kronos said, a bit of venom in his lips now. "Much more than I would ever want to know about the fate of the Imperium. How it's structures have shifted and broken, reshaped into lesser versions of themselves. I see this, and realize the Astartes are not at the forefront of galactic affairs anymore. They possess nowhere near the power they did in their glory days as Legions. So I must adapt. An Inquisitor on my side...would make things significantly easier."
Kronos turned towards his armor, putting it on in a mere few moment thanks to it's shifting mechanisms.
"I believe you can take care of the teleporters, correct?"
He did not await for a response as he marched across the room, waiting by the doorway for the two White Scars to join him. They were yet too dumbstruck by what they had just discovered to tell how his fists clenched with enough strength to strain the plating of his suit.
Author's notes: Bit of a shorter chapter this time, mostly due to it being transitional and also, me just not wanting to wait a month.
Not a lot happens this time. Or maybe it does. I dunno. I can't decide for you. But things I hope will definitely keep getting more interesting as we go along with what I have planned.
I also noticed a spike in reviews recently, so that maybe prompted the writing of this a wee bit faster than usual. Keep that up and I might keep this up, wink wink nudge nudge.
Anyway, that has been all for this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it, reviews, follows and favs are always appreciated, yadda yadda yadda. See y'all on the next one, Dome of Bones out.