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Months of travel went by in a breeze, the tides of the Immaterium bending to the will of the fleet, expanding ever outwards as it made for it's destination. They had left behind the Warp-tainted maw of Obscurus by now, penetrating deep into the xenos-infested colossus that was Ultima.
Kronos had seen tens of worlds during their voyage, either stops for refueling or minor scuffles with enemy forces that needed to be apprehended. The people of the Imperium who needed help received it, as long as they were in their path, by the crushing blow of a relatively massive fleet, in the past few months grown to a size where it could comfortably patrol several sectors.
In the stars, words had spread of the mighty battlefleet. The Scions of Terra was the name spoken of them in hushed whispers across all the galactic fronts, relayed from spies and assassins to governors and powerful Administratum lords. They came from all corners of the realm of Man, from all the assorted branches of martial might the Emperor's forces mustered.
Yet their name was spawned of one singular aspect, the one that unified them: the fleet was apparently in control of one of the Adeptus Custodes, the Emperor's own Golden Legion, and the heir apparent to the Imperial Throne. These rumors were the ones that burned the brightest, spreading across the astropathic grapevine to anyone important enough to know.
He was certain his modern counterparts already knew of it. He did not know what to expect of them, but nothing he'd seen had had their stamp on it yet. Already dozens of spies had been apprehended, many by himself. There were few things that could fool the Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor he had by his side, and fewer still that could fool him. Counterespionage was as important to a Custodian's duties as being a truly mighty physical protector was.
In truth however, even his enhanced mind was feeling the stress by now. Relegation did wonders, and he had some very talented men and women assisting him, truly, but every piece of information regarding the fleet and all that would happen to it passed through him. Every iota of data that could be gathered, was gathered.
It was demanding to the extreme, and would've been utterly impossible even for most regular Custodians, made practical only by his brain's immensely boosted processing speed and storage capacity.
It was in these few, quiet moments however, that he found the most difficulty. He took them periodically, even though he didn't need rest in the conventional sense. But his brain did operate at better efficiency when he imposed some moderation, so he would plug out of the information database once in a while to simply stand meditating in peace.
Except, he couldn't have peace. When he wasn't busy, that was when his mind tormented him the most. He tried to shut out thoughts of doubt, of hatred for all that had happened. But he could not.
No amount of getting used to this new reality was going to absolve these feelings. He knew full well that he could not have done anything to change it. That by being here, now, he was getting an actual chance, and a prestigious honor above almost all others, to make things right. But his mind could not help but wander to the possibilities, to all the ifs, and maybes, and buts.
Inevitably however, he received another message that required his attention. Duties were never sparse aboard the Crescent Moon. With a sigh, he filed all thoughts of the past to back of his mind, as the present called to him.
"Cadia is falling."
Three words were all it took to silence the entire command deck of the ship, which had been filled to the brim with officers. Admirals, captains, representatives of the Adeptus Ministorum and the Mechanicus, even the all-powerful Inquisition with Catherine at the front of the contingent. They all stood speechless at the words, as if they could not process the concept at all.
Some wore scowls of pure hatred on their faces, the Great Enemy and thoughts of slaughter against it clearly bubbling in their minds. Others stood gawking, perhaps even with their mouths open, the information utterly baffling them. Most had looks of worry or grim determination on their faces. Kronos had the impression they were the most fearful.
This veneer of calm stood for what felt like hours, though in truth were a mere few minutes at most. Even the breathing of the assembled became fleeting and hushed. And then it was as if the room exploded, as a hundred voices cried out in all the myriad of emotions such news would bring.
The chaos continued for some time, as cries of disbelief could've echoed throughout the entirety of the Crescent Moon were they allowed to. However, a single voice of booming thunder sounded above all others:
SILENCE!
Instantly, the entire room was thrown into a trance even worse than the first time they had heard the accursed sentence. The scream had not been merely a thing of sound waves, amplified by vox emitters, though few in the assembled could tell of that. It had been a soul shriek as well, carving it's pathway into the Warp and clenching their souls into submission just as the noise of the Materium voice had done so to their minds.
And only then, after the verbal cacophony had ceased did they realize who had let out the command.
None of the assembled had ever heard the Custodian raise his voice. Many doubted he was even capable of it, exuding an aura of calm and control in almost any situation, and rarely showing his stress at any time. But now they saw, and stood silent.
Kronos walked, taking a spot in the center of the room. All awaited as he formulated his next words. The Custodian removed his helm, to address his audience directly. His face bore little resemblance to depictions of his gene sire, though it carried it's own aristocracy, if a simple one at that. Handsome, but not particularly so. A royal, yet never a monarch.
"This changes nothing."
If the first sentence had cause uproar, the second could've started a planetary bombing. Yet Kronos' heavy stare made all tongues that would be leveled against him feel like lead.
"Our goal is Ultramar. Whether the Cadian Gate falls or is saved miraculously, our goals do not shift. We do no good to our allies if we backtrack on our journey now, but only harm ourselves, and the future of the Imperium. We have made it this far. It may pain us, but we cannot heed Cadia's call."
"But my lord!" one of the gathered at last had the courage to speak, and Kronos recognized him as the representative Noble Lord of the Imperial Knights House Cadmus, Vorroid Harker. "If Cadia falls, then the Eye-"
"We do not know what will happen to the Eye. What we do know is that devastation is the only thing that awaits us there. Think, Knight, and consider: the fabled Phalanx itself is present and fighting tooth and nail in the skies above Cadia. Do you think we could make a splash in such a conflict with our fleet? Halt the momentum of the crashing titans there with this mere gathering of Imperial force?"
The Knight fell silent, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, as his rebellion was silenced in his throat.
"I understand your desire to strike at the heart of the enemy. Rip it's throat open while it is busy circling it's prey. But our destinies do not lay there," he impacted the pole of his spear to the ground once for emphasis, as he looked onto every soul in the room. "You surrendered your lives to the Emperor the moment you signed into the duties you now hold. But never were you commissioned by the Master of Mankind himself. Until now."
"Though I do it with no great pleasure, I am his proxy, and your life debt to him is your life debt to me. And for the greater good of the Imperium, we make for Ultramar. That is final."
With that, the Custodian stared expectantly at the crowd. None could quite figure out what he waited for. Until one of them gave the sign of the Aquila. The very same Knight he had rebutted before.
Soon, all others in the room, whether begrudgingly or with admiration, confirmed their loyalties. Kronos nodded twice, one for the assembled officers to disperse, and the other towards the Inquisitorial group that was waiting, sulking in the shadows, the only ones not to take part in the commotion.
Four figures stepped forth from the relatively smaller group, Catherine among them. Kronos offered his hand to the Inquisitor to help her up the step to the center of the deck, more a symbolic gesture than anything else. In the past several months, he'd grown to have a decent working relationship with her, if only because her position secured him the compliance of other Inquisitors without the use of threats being necessary.
The religious fervor still unnerved him, sending cold shivers up his spine for every prayer and blessing in the supposed God-Emperor's name. Like most things, he ignored it so long as it was convenient. But it was one of the reasons why he preferred the companionship of the White Scars. They were not zealots. They were a far cry from the enlightened Legions of old, from the ways of the Imperial Truth, but they were nonetheless palpable in this new dark age.
The Inquisitor accepted the gesture with a polite bow. One could've almost confused them for a royal couple in courtship, if not for the massive difference in height and the clear display of battleplate and weaponry they had on. The rest of Kronos' retinue, that being Gan, Batu and Bodol, followed them, as did the other Inquisitors, as they delved deeper into the bowels of the ship.
The room they were going to was a recent addition, implemented in the last several weeks. There was no glory nor much of anything in it, just a space barely large enough to house all of them. Cramped, humid and reeking of engine oil and recycled air, one would never think that some of the most powerful individuals in the Imperium came here to discuss matters too important for any other living soul to hear.
It was purely utilitarian, but it served it's purpose very well. Not even a decibel of sound would escape the soundproofed confines of the room. They could summon a daemon kicking and screaming from the Immaterium and none on the ship would notice a thing. If the Crescent Moon was blasted straight through, the chamber would most likely survive as it's own unit. A fortress within a fortress.
They at last arrived at the unofficial brains behind the entire operation, and their journey to Ultramar. They were sans one, but Kronos kept tabs on him anyway. It was impossible not to with how overwhelmingly large his presence was in the ship. And he was already speaking in a tongue only those who could see the realm beyond lives could speak.
"The Warmaster of Chaos prepares his endgame," Catherine spoke.
"That he does. But I need that endgame explained to me in detail Inquisitor. You mentioned something about the Cadian Pylons. I require more information about them."
Catherine nodded, and motioned one of her peers to step forth. Old, scared in every bit of visible flesh, almost frail and weak-looking if not for his sharp, obsidian eyes, the man looked to be pushing his 80s, yet was truly in his 200s to 300s, a point where rejuvenat treatments simply ceased to work.
"Inquisitor Lord Kryptus Tallarn of the Ordo Xenos," Catherine introduced, though Kronos already knew who he was. There was a not a single person of note aboard his ship that he had not memorized and scrutinized.
The elderly man cleared his throat, and spoke with a voice laden with exhaustion and grit, a mark more telling of his advanced age and long career than his physical appearance:
"The Cadian Pylons, lord, are perhaps the greatest and most important defense against the expansion of the Warp and the Warmaster's plan in the galaxy. They are of alien origin, suspected to be of Necron construction, and though their structure is ill-understood, they are able to hold back the influence of the Immaterium. They are responsible for the existence of the Cadian Gate," the man's arm was raised, revealing it for the cybernetic implant that it was, and a hololith of the systems near the Fortress World were displayed.
"For thousands of years now, the Despoiler has launched crusade after crusade into our territories, seemingly with no reason, and being beaten each time. Now, the purpose of his assaults has been made clear: he's been picking apart the Pylon network around the Eye. Each time, the Warp rift has swelled in size, if by relatively tiny margins, only stopped from truly ballooning due to one thing..."
"Cadia itself," Kronos finished. "He has played the Imperium for thousands of years, making us believe he is weak and a fool. The fall of Cadia has always been his endgame."
"This bodes worse and worse the more I hear about it," Gan mused.
"What of the findings in the Empyrean?" Kronos asked. "I wish to corroborate the Stormseer's and mine own observations."
The Inquisitor Lord bowed, and another, much different face took his place. Where the other man was a worn out blade, this one was sharpened steel, fresh out of the forge. Burning hot plasma in comparison to the Inquisitor Lord's weathered iron, his eyes fiery zeal in contrast to grim determination of the one now behind him.
He was clearly young, exceedingly so for an Inquisitor, though his seeming early promotion spoke volumes of how much he had to have impressed whoever he had been trained by. Not that it told Kronos much. Even in the elite Inquisition, levels of competence varied, and what did not help was that the Custodian could not help but smell his surface thoughts.
He felt disgust. He was one of the zealots. The true zealots.
But he did not show it. He was certain his dissatisfaction would have time to manifest itself one day. But not now. There was still work to be done.
"Inquisitor Adrian Drago, of the Ordo Malleus," Kronos chanted in his head, in perfect sync with Catherine saying the words.
"My lord," the man began, his voice gruff, yet still displaying his age. "I will be frank with you: the predictions have not been in our favor. Hundreds of sanctioned psykers, along with several Librarians and Grey Knights I have collaborated with throughout the Imperium...they all report dire readings of the Emperor's Tarot, among other such very unfortunate signs. Whatever is coming, I fear the line between extinction and salvation will be...very thin to tread."
"So it is true," Bodol chimed in. "Brother Nergui tells us much of the same. He finds the Empyrean disturbed. Changed. The roiling tides are agitated."
"Indeed. I've seen it myself," Kronos turned around from the others, his hands behind his back, grasping each-other, tightening and loosening as he thought. "I am no expert yet in the happenings of the realm of souls. Yet all this couldn't be any clearer. It only makes our mission all the more important. The breaking of the new millennium will be a violent one. Perhaps too violent for us all to survive without our mission completed."
"And what is that mission, pray tell, lord Kronos?"
And there it was. The fool. The rebel. The one Inquisitor he had only kept around for he served as a foil to the others. In truth, one could not help but be annoyed of the man, if they were not utterly terrified of him. Whereas the rampant paranoia of his organization was downplayed immensely by the presence of one of the Emperor's own sons carrying his blessing, the Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor before him was not touched at all by the sentiment.
"Theseus..." Catherine warned.
"It has been months, Custodian. Months of travel, of warring, of fighting off the bureaucratic nightmare of the organizations needed to be brought together for your adventure to begin."
"Bite your tongue boy," Kryptus hissed, though the other Inquisitor payed him no mind.
"How much longer will you keep things from us? How much more must we prove our devotion to this cause before you tell us what the cause is Custodian? We are Inquisitors, and we demand our res-"
With blinding speed, Gan's artificial limb was grasping the intricate robe of the Inquisitor, stopping his tirade at once, lifting him up into the air like a ragdoll.
"Gan..." Batu warned without further words.
"Calm yourself brother," Bodol chimed in, placing a hand on the younger warrior's shoulder.
Kronos himself remained detached.
"How dare you, maggot?" Gan spat. "He is a son of the Emperor, born of him as each Astartes is born of his Primarch. He has seen the Master of Mankind in the flesh and carries a fragment of his own soul within him. He could have each of you killed right now and no one would bat an eye. You will not receive any respect. All that is needed of you is your compliance in doing what must be done. Beyond that, you are no less disposable than any other man."
"Gan," the voice echoed throughout the room, even though it should've been impossible. "Put him down."
Begrudgingly, the Astartes complied, and the Inquisitor was put down on the ground, shocked speechless despite himself. Burner of worlds or not, few men could be threatened by a Space Marine with no fear invading their system.
"Your concerns are valid Theseus, even if your methods of displaying them are not in the slightest," Kronos began, turning around to face them once more. "I have kept my plans from you for too long."
He turned to the White Scars now.
"And a distinction in that doesn't exist between my associates, and closest allies. It is time I reveal what I saw all those months back when the Stormseer guided me," Kronos' eyes flashed once, and each person in the room was shown the exact same destiny he had witnessed.
Terra. Broken. Chaos. Star. Ultima. Aquila.
The vision ended in a split second, but White Scar and Inquisitor alike found the image burned into their skulls. Each one of them dazed, some suffered more than others. Batu took off his helm to spit acidic bile onto the floor. The old Inquisitor Lord found his nostrils full of blood, starting an intense coughing fit.
Catherine nearly keeled over, but she was caught quickly by his outstretched hand. On closer inspection, she was bleeding lightly on one ear.
"Are you alright?"
Once she regained full awareness, surface thought observation told him that she was somewhere between terrified and elated to touch his armor again, though she shook it off soon enough.
"I'm fine."
He let her go, though did notice how she was still clutching her head.
"My sincerest apologies, I did not mean to cause such an effect. My psychic powers still do not come naturally to me. The fragment I am now merged with seems to possess all of my sire's immense psychic might with none of his experience," he cleared his throat. "But nonetheless, I trust all of you observed what I intended to show."
He turned around now, observing something in the dull metal walls no one else could see.
"We journey to Ultramar for there is the only known location of one of the Imperium's own leading generals and leaders: the Primarch Roboute Guilliman, Master of Utramar, the Avenging Son."
"Guilliman has been in stasis for millennia lord, stuck between life and death due to a wound the fallen Daemon Primarch Fulgrim gave him. Even his superhuman regeneration has been negated by it's vile poisons, not of this reality. I've seen it myself," Batu said.
"This is true. And I myself possess no means to resurrect him. But believe me when I say, his resurrection is coming. Destiny deems it so. And though I have never been much a believer in regards to such things, I saw what you all say with mine own eyes."
"The Imperium needs a savior in these dire times. A warrior but most of all, a leader. Something I could never be. I may have the soul of the Emperor himself within me, but what good would that claim do? How many would declare me a false, deluded prophet? And even if my word was accepted as law by everyone in this disjointed empire, I am no statesman. I am not a diplomat, nor do I know how to manage the byzantine nightmare that is the Imperial bureaucratic machine."
He once more faced them, this time the conviction in his voice seemingly shaking the walls of the room itself.
"But a Primarch? None can refute the word of one. Any stupid enough to try and doubt a loyal son of the Emperor would be slain where they stood. And Guilliman is the most equipped man to handle the nightmarish path that awaits us all. His resurrection and safe journey to Terra is of the upmost importance. That is why we make our mark on Macragge."
All assembled stood in complete silence after the speech. Even Theseus could say nothing to rebut him. They were all encompassed in lesser or greater extents of awe, either listening to the Custodian's words, or more likely, trying to grapple with the concept of a true, living Primarch walking among them again.
Kronos did not wait for them to respond. He'd have time to speak with all of them sooner or later. Rather, he motioned for his appointed equerry, Gan, and bid farewell to the rest.
"Is it true, Custodian?" Gan asked after a while of them simply walking.
"I would not have said it if it was not, Gan."
They continued walking some more in silence, though Kronos could tell the other's silence was not a comfortable one.
"Something troubles you."
"I do no-"
"Gan, I did not select you because of your shyness. Speak your mind as you always have."
"I am not a psyker myself Custodian, but from what I have heard from Stormseers, including Nergui himself, visions are incredibly subjective, are they not? I am not trying to place undue doubt in you, but well...who is to say this is not the best case scenario? From what we all saw, who is to say Guilliman is truly to come back?"
"Call it intuition."
"With all due respect Custodian, that does not answer anything."
Kronos stopped, drawing a deep breath, before turning around and facing his equerry, face neutral.
"You are correct. However, the way I know this vision is indeed about Guilliman, or at least one of the Primarchs, is something the soul fragment of the Emperor himself told me all those months back on Sors. Do you wish to know what that is?"
Gan nodded, perhaps a bit too quickly for it to be comfortable.
"It said: "Let this be the last time you show deference to another individual not of your own destiny". I do not wish to come off as brash or arrogant, but who else sans the Primarchs, can have the destiny of one who would carry the soul of the Emperor within him? That sentence has burned itself within my skull since then, like the rest of his speech. I've repeated it over and over, and analysis leads me to believe nothing else. That vision only confirmed it."
"...I see," was Gan's clipped reply. His helm hid his facial features, though the Custodian could tell his conflicted mood. He did not blame him. Kronos would've done the same once.
He'd come around eventually.
"Stormseer."
The shorter warrior nodded in his direction.
"Custodian."
They both stood alongside one-another as they stared out into the void of space, at the assembled which now looked to be quite formidable.
Below them, the massive Mining World of Balor stood, their last stop before an interrupted journey towards Macragge. Possessing of a massive Imperial Guard contingent, some of which had been drawn for their own crusade, and under the intense scrutiny of the Inquisition, making acquisition of assets immensely easy, it stood as an example of Imperial might.
Might they would soon need all of.
"We are close now."
"Indeed. Though it is regrettable that my Khan cannot join us before we reach our destination."
"He will have plenty of time to do so after our job is done, and we make for Terra."
A pause followed.
"Disaster awaits us," the Stormseer sounded concerned, a trait most unusual after all the time they'd spent together. "Something will happen during the months that we are traveling in the Warp. I can feel it."
"We will have to take that chance," Kronos interjected without missing a beat. "Whether salvation or damnation awaits us at the end of this journey, we fight on and endure all the same."
"Year 999 of the 41st millennium," Nergui mused. "All that has happened...all that is happening...it feels like a dream."
"Welcome to my reality," the Custodian said grimly.
They stood in silence for some time, until their presence was requested for the Crescent Moon's reactivation and subsequent Warp jump.
Author's notes: Fun fact: Balor is an actual planet in 40k lore. I didn't come up with it. Not much to it, but I thought it was cool to throw that in.
Not much to say about this chapter. I think everyone can see where stuff is going to go from now. I will say though that next chapter, things ramp us significantly...hopefully.
As always, faves, follows and reviews are always appreciated. This has been all from me this time. Dome of Bones out.