Disclaimer: You know the drill. Code Geass and Warhammer 40k. Not mine.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Resurrection
Golden Throne, Sanctum Imperialis
Twelve Hours Prior
The air seemed to grow increasingly heavy as the veil between the Materium and the maddening dimensions of the Empyrean once again thinned. Nunnally was the first to feel the effects, slumping against a stack of crates and massaging the bridge of her nose as a familiar presence weighed down on her. She waved off the guard detail as they moved forward to check her condition. Though not as finely attuned to the tides of the Warp as she, Suzaku was beginning to feel the presence as well, nervously shifting his weight between his feet.
The space before the Golden Throne crackled and warped, rippling and tearing as holes began appearing in the veil of reality. The militiamen accompanying the Black Knights' leaders sprang into action, taking what cover they could find and training the weapons on the distortion. The Psychic Special Warfare operatives unsheathed their blades, now aglow with psychic energy. A number of Companions surged forward, forming two concentric rings around the growing rift. The closer rank dropped to their knees, allowing all of them to train their Guardian Spears on the target.
The defenders relaxed slightly as CC stepped through the rift. Cloaked in the mighty soul of the Emperor of Mankind, her eyes ablaze with incomprehensible psychic power, the green-haired woman presented a magnificent and terrifying spectacle. She took several steps towards the Golden Throne, the rift sealing behind her. The ring of Companions broke apart, its constituents reforming into an honor guard around CC as the remaining Custodes rushed forward to line the staircase ascending the Golden Throne. Their Guardian Spears clashed together, forming an archway for the procession to pass under.
Several averted their eyes as the Emperor of Mankind's unfathomable psychic power flooded every corner of the Sanctum Imperialis and beyond. As far away as the Administratum offices of the Inner Palace, Psykers collapsed or were struck blind.
The Tech-Priests attending to the Emperor's dessicated form halted in their tasks as CC approached. They fell to their knees as the Master of Mankind's mighty soul drew closer. The green-haired woman paid them no mind, strolling up to the withered corpse and stopping mere centimeters from the jungle of cables and tubes that surrounded it. Several of the Custodes and Tech-Priests looked on in curiosity as CC brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her view, leaned forward, and kissed the withered corpse on the lips.
A psychic shockwave spread far and wide as Lelouch's soul returned to his body. A blinding flash engulfed the Golden Throne as millions of pinpricks of light left CC's form and began swirling around the Emperor's. Several Tech-Priests looked on in panic and despair as the apparatus surrounding the body began sparking and smoking, even catching fire, but none rose from their bow. The few not blinded by the light could muster no emotion save barely-contained awe as the Emperor's eyelids slowly fluttered open, revealing a pair of deep violet irises.
Parts of the Golden Throne began crumbling and falling away, even disintegrating entirely as the Emperor's newly-reoccupied body freed itself from the restraints. The withered corpse slowly stood up and took several experimental steps forward, causing the Tech-Priests and Custodes to bow even deeper than before. Descciated flesh sloughed off, leaving only a skeleton and those vivid violet eyes. The few still able to gaze upon the sight before them saw muscle and organs and flesh seemingly burst forth from Lelouch's bones and weave together.
Restored to his full glory after nearly two hundred centuries and wreathed in the flames of his own unimaginable psychic powers, the Emperor of Mankind spoke.
"Subjects of the Imperium, rejoice. For I walk amongst you once again."
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The Rock
His mind broken by torture and his body broken by time, the pathetic form that was once Luther initially could not comprehend the sight before him. A magnificent giant towered over him, his face familiar and gentle. Comprehension slowly dawned upon him as the ripples of the Emperor's restored psychic might slowly permeated through his soul. Luther's shattered psyche slowly pieced itself back together, and his mind became clear for the first time in millennia. The full weight of his sins crashing down upon him, he threw himself at the giant's feet, begging forgiveness.
"Hush, brother," Lion El'Jonson knelt down and gently raised Luther's battered face to look him in the eye, "All is forgiven."
Cypher and a retinue of Dark Angels, alerted that something was amiss when the unceasing ravings of a madman fell silent, rushed into the hidden chamber moments later with weapons raised. The first sight to greet them was their long-lost Primarch kneeling over Luther's lifeless body. Weapons were lowered, and the Dark Angels knelt in fealty before their lord.
Ultramarines Strike Cruiser Palantine
Orbit of Mars
The harrowing retreat from Macragge to Terra had cost the Ultramarines dearly. Massive Warp storms pounded the fleet, the violent currents ripping apart dozens of ships. Gellar Fields and Warp Drives failed, dooming thousands to an eternity of torment at the hands of daemons and Warp-beasts. Even the mighty Battle Barge Caesar fell prey to the Warp's madness, destroyed mere days from Terra. Hundreds of Battle-Brothers, almost all the Ultramarines remaining suits of Tactical Dreadnought Armor, and most of their ammunition and weapons stores were lost with the mighty warship.
In the confusion surrounding the retreat from Macragge, the Thunderhawk bearing the Roboute Guilliman's body veered off-course and wound up aboard the Strike Cruiser Palantine rather than the Casear. The sheer amount of mayhem in orbit made it unacceptably risky to transfer their Primarch to the Battle Barge, and he remained aboard the Palantine for the journey. Only this fortuitious accident prevented the Ultramarines from suffering a crippling blow to morale on top of the crippling blow to their fighting strength.
Now the de facto flagship of the Ultramarines Chapter Fleet, the Palantine housed most of the Chapter's remaining fighting strength. The few remaining Battle-Brothers took turns guarding the chamber housing Guilliman's body. The honor of keeping watch within the chamber itself fell to a Captain by the name of Severinus Traianus when the psychic shockwaves of Lelouch's resurrection reached the Strike Cruiser.
For Severinus, the first warning sign was the sudden migraine. A cold feeling washed over the seasoned Astartes, sending an unpleasant tingling up his spine. His gut told him that the signs all pointed toward powerful Warp sorcery, and his instincts were rarely wrong. His eyes slowly scanned the chamber—itself easily large enough to hold the Captain, Guilliman, and the life support apparatus keeping the latter alive with plenty of room to spare—as he shouldered his bolter.
Severinus' eyebrows knit in confusion as his gaze settled on Guilliman's body. He was fairly sure the wound in his Primarch's throat was slightly larger just seconds before. A flash of movement caught the Ultramarine's eye, causing him to whirl around and ready his bolter. He lowered his weapon just as quickly when he saw that the only thing in his sights was his Primarch's hand. Traianus' hearts actually skipped a beat when his gaze travelled up to Guilliman's face. The shrinking wound and the moving hand, he could explain away as a trick of the light coupled with the stress of the current situation. The Captain would bet on his honor, however, that Guilliman was not looking directly at him moments before.
"To arms, Battle-Brothers!" Severinus bellowed into the vox, "Something is amiss within the Primarch's chamber!"
Several fully-armed Ultramarines, with bolters shouldered and fingers on the triggers, burst through the door moments later. A series of percussive thuds announced the Terminators filing into the corridor beyond. A chill went up Severinus' spine as he felt a massive shadow fall over him.
"You have endured much, but surely the sight of your own Primarch should not be a cause for alarm," a booming voice gently chided.
?
Craftworld Altansar
The brutal meat grinder that was the ongoing battle for Altansar had drawn most of the Craftworld's military forces to the surface, leaving the labrynth of corridors within virtually deserted. That suited the lithe figure silhouetted in the soft blue glow of the Webway Nexus just fine. Long, slim fingers raced over the arcane controls, greatly expanding the gateway and overriding a number of the Nexus' defenses. He stepped back to admire his handiwork as the steady blue pulsing sped up and grew increasingly erratic.
As the psychic ripples from Terra surrounded and engulfed him, the figure threw his head back and allowed the currents to lift him into the air. Psychic energy began leaking from every orifice of his body, surrounding him in a brilliant aura visible even within the Webway. Only the Craftworld's psychic defenses and his own seemingly-infinite mental fortitude kept the creatures of the Warp at bay. Even then, there existed only a brief opportunity before even such formidable defenses were overwhelmed.
The aura dissipated, and the figure fell to the ground. His strength spent, he wearily struggled to his feet and was confronted with a mountain of flesh and ceramite. Standing before him was a titan clad head to toe in golden armor and wielding a great scimitar. The towering man extended a hand, which the exhausted figure gratefully took. Shakily standing up, he merely nodded at the giant. There would be time for rest later: now, the soul of Altansar hung in the balance.
Without a word exchanged, Primarch Janghatai Khan and the Phoenix Lord Maugan Ra turned and left for the surface.
Black Knights 15th Militia Field Headquarters
Tharsis Region, Surface of Mars
Hastily erected from prefabricated buildings flown down from orbit, the 15th Miltia's Field Headquarters nonetheless rivaled an equivalent Imperial facility in data-processing capability and was packed with enough advanced technology to make even the most senior Tech-Priest salivate. High-resolution scanners swept the Tharsis region, the electronic eyes seeing everything from the Imperial and Black Knights ships in orbit to the geothermal pockets that the surrounding forges drew power from. Communications relays coordinated not only the units of the 15th Militia Group but also received constant updates from the rest of the Theater Group.
"Ma'am, sensors have picked up Warp activity in the upper atmosphere. Tentatively tagged as a spontaneous Warp rift."
A pulsing dot appeared on the holographic tactical display.
"Do we have anyone in that area?"
A blinking box appeared around a cluster of blue triangles.
"The Excaliburs of Behemoth squadron are already on the scene. They should be reporting in momentarily."
"Ma'am," a communications technician announced, "Incoming transmission from Behemoth Leader. Should I patch him through?"
Colonel General Majka nodded once.
"This is Behemoth Leader to Field HQ, repeat, this is Behemoth Leader to Field HQ."
"Confirmed, Behemoth Leader. This is Field HQ. Go ahead."
"The anomaly disappeared shortly before we arrived on-scene, but residual radiation confirms a momentary Warp rift. Something's definitely passed through, and we are pursuing now."
"Roger, Behemoth Leader. Keep me updated."
A moment of silence followed before the channel opened up again.
"This is Behemoth Leader to Field HQ, the object appears to be in freefall. Transmitting projected impact site now."
A pulsing dot appeared on the tactical display, indicating an area several kilometers west of the 15th Militia's field headquarters.
"Contact all outposts in that area!" Lilia turned towards the nearest unoccupied communications officer, "I want a recon team on-scene as soon as possible!"
"This is Behemoth Leader to Field HQ! Preliminary scan results indicate the presence of ceramite. The density and quantity suggest Astartes Power Armor. Also detecting faint life-signs…Behemoth squadron, pull up! Pull up!"
"This is Field HQ to Behemoth Leader, what's your status! Come in, Behemoth Leader!"
"This is Behemoth Leader to Field HQ, transmitting site of impact now," the dot shifted almost imperceptibly and stopped pulsing, "We are holding position over the area and awaiting arrival of ground forces."
Black Knights Drop Shuttle Bombshell Betty
Vicinity of the Asteroid Belt
"Target confirmed. Begin docking procedures."
Generators beneath the drop shuttle's armored skin flared up, snaking invisible tethers between it and its prey. The deck plates rumbled slightly as the gravitric lines latched on and began pulling the other shuttle closer, stopping when mere meters separated the two hulls.
"Deploying docking umbilical. Boarding teams to standby."
"So, Sarge, what's the word on this thing?"
One of the Knightmares turned to face the speaker. A largely reflexive gesture, considering the existence of suit-to-suit communications.
"It's an old design, even by Imperial standards. Mainly used to quickly transport VIPs through warzones. Last used during the early thirty-first millennium, around the time they call the Horus Heresy. The Mechancium's long since lost the means to produce more, and the years have claimed those already in service."
The passenger compartment lurched as the docking umbilical attached to the other shuttle, sealed, and began inflating.
"The outer armor plate's a lattice of plasteel and ceramite, capable of taking several direct lascannon bolts. Even with hadron sabers, it'll take a while to cut through it."
The belly-mounted bording hatch popped open moments later, and the Knightmares began filing through. The lead Knightmare ignited his hadron saber and slowly plunged it into the armor plating. True to the Sergeant's word, the plates hardly grew hot even as the antimatter blades slowly bit through them.
"Shuttle first dropped out of the Warp about half an hour ago. Gave our fleet quite a scare, and they nearly blasted it out the sky. Would have, too, if it weren't broadcasting a valid Imperial IFF. A very old, very specific one. It was actually flagged in our archives."
The breaching Knightmare sheathed his blade and stepped aside, allowing the next Knightmare in line a turn.
"Our intelligence department at the time identified this shuttle as the personal transport of Corvus Corax, Primarch of the Raven Guard Legion."
Golden Throne
Sanctum Imperialis
The psychic pyrotechnics abruptly ceased, and Lelouch slumped forward. Several pairs of hands caught him before he hit the unforgiving ceramite and gently lowered him to the ground. A nearby Companion stepped forward, removing his cloak and gently draping it over the Emperor's naked form. A Psychic Special Warfare operative phased into existence, a field medkit in his hands. He knelt down and pressed two fingers to the side of Lelouch's neck.
"How is he?" CC asked the question on everybody's minds.
"He's breathing," the operative reported matter-of-factly while staring at the diagnostic unit now in his hands, "Lifesigns appear stable. Mentally, however…feels like I stepped right into an Eldar Mind War."
"We need to get him onto the Ikaruga," Nunnally announced, "We have facilities that can treat this sort of thing."
The Companions suddenly closed ranks, alarming the Black Knights delegation. The militia troopers closed around Nunnally, hadron assault rifles shouldered. CC's hand gravitated towards her saber, while Suzaku readied to draw one of his Force Swords. Psychic Special Warfare operatives flashed into existence, swords already drawn and at the ready. Everyone relaxed ever-so-slightly when Captain-General Caius Quintinus shoved his way through the phalanx and dropped into one knee.
"I apologize if my comrades' reactions have caused you any alarm," the Custodian bowed his head, "However, the Companions have accompanied the Emperor since the Legio Custodes' founding. They merely wish to be allowed to continue that duty."
Nunnally nodded imperceptibly.
"We're going to need more drop shuttles," CC remarked.
The adepts of the Imperial Palace were in for a great shock that day as a grand procession of Custodians marched through the hallways, banners aloft and the Emperor's body at the center.
Combat Information Center, Space Station Ikaruga
017.M51
A medical team was already waiting on the hangar deck as the small convoy of drop shuttles touched down. CC, Nunnally, and Suzaku remained just long enough to see the stretcher-bound Lelouch and his entourage of Custodians disappear through a set of blast doors and into the Ikaruga's labyrinthine corridors. As soon as the armored bulkhead cycled shut, CC grabbed her two companions and performed a rather impressive hop, depositing them right in the middle of the combat information center. Several of the guards raised their hadron assault rifles as the trio appeared before lowering them again just as quickly. The command center staff hardly paid them any attention, though a few twitched towards their hadron pistols.
Since arriving nearly half a day before, the three had hardly moved, their eyes glued onto the tactical display at the center of the room. The mass of red slowly pushed forward as the blue and green slowly dwindled in size. The staff had switched on their external audio feeds, the only acknowledgement they made regarding their leaders' presence. The last few minutes bought little but casualty reports.
"We've just finished decoding the latest sitrep from the Caerleon," one of the Knightmare-clad technicians approached, data slate in hand.
Nunnally took the offered data slate and glanced over the text. Any hopes of good news were immediately dashed. The sheer firepower of the Chaos attack force proved even greater than initially estimated: the remnants of the 10th and 17th OPAWs found themselves clashing with endless waves of cultists, Chaos Space Marines, and even daemons. A sudden attack had effectively routed the Black Knights forces, and Kallen was currently making a futile effort to rally her troops.
"We've received a visual feed from the ground forces. Patching it through now."
The video only worsened the situation. Giant, hunchbacked ceramite titans waded through a frightening amount of hadron bolts, casually swatting aside Knightmares. Their fearsome weaponry chewed through hadron fields and ripped through rutalium carbide.
"Tactical Dreadnought Armor, better known as Terminator Armor. Cataphractii pattern, if I'm not mistaken. I'd originally intended to standardize it for all the Legiones Astartes, but then the rebellion happened, and there was no time."
The three of them whirled around to see a paler-than-usual Lelouch standing in the doorway, shakily supporting himself with a Guardian Spear. The sight of the two Companions flanking him caused the Knightmare guards to grip their weapons a little more tightly.
"Onii-san!" Nunnally rushed forward, "You shouldn't be standing up! You're still far too weak!"
Lelouch placed a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder before pushing past her and into the combat information center. He immediately made a beeline for the main tactical display.
"Is this the current situation on Craftworld Altansar?" he asked nobody in particular.
Suzaku nodded his head in response. Lelouch spared the one-time Knight of Zero a glance before turning back to the display. His eyes swept over the battlefield, taking in the position of each triangle, friendly and hostile, and its position in relation to the others. The very air around him shifted, and for a second, CC could see the original Zero in his war room, putting the final touches on another strike against Britannia. Sensing what was about to happen, Nunnally stepped forward and offered Lelouch her communicator.
Eldar Defense Line
Surface of Craftworld Altansar
Kallen went mute for a moment, wondering if she had finally succumbed to the stress and cracked. She was snapped back to reality by a flurry of radio chatter, all trying to identify the source of the voice and asking her for orders.
"All units, follow whatever directions that voice gives you!"
Acknowledgement came in the form of the channel falling silent and the remaining squads spreading out into the designated formations.
"4th Squad, suppression fire dead ahead until 7th Squad reaches point E7, then toss Chaos Mines and fall back to A3!"
The remaining Knightmares of 4th Squad held their hadron machine guns over their heads, barely clearing the lip of the crater, and began hosing down the area in front of them. As the incoming bolter and assault cannon fire died down, the troopers slowly rose to their knees and bought their weapons to their shoulders, never releasing their triggers as they did so. One of the oncoming Terminators staggered as several shots drilled straight through its reinforced breastplate.
"Focus your fire!"
Hadron bolts riddled the fallen Astartes, one piercing the eyepiece of his helmet and putting him down for good. The other Terminators paid no attention to their fallen comrade, and continued trudging on. One of the troopers staggered back, multiple assault cannon impacts having knocked the breath from his lungs and pitted his armor. One of his comrades yanked him behind cover just in time for a wave of bolter shells to sail over his head.
"7th Squad in position! Hose 'em down, boys!"
A storm of green spears ripped through the enemy ranks, reducing several of the mighty suits to scrap metal. One of the Terminators, a meson burst having vaporized his legs below the knee, tumbled to the ground, writhing in a curious mix of agony and ecstasy. Several others tossed aside now-useless combi-bolters and storm bolters and charged ahead, determined to hack the OPAW troopers to death with their power weapons. Another flailed around wildly, a glancing meson burst having set off some of his assault cannon's ammunition and the heat of repeated shots perpetuating the cook-off.
Several of the OPAW troopers became aware of a Psychic Special Warfare operative suddenly looming over them. His Knightmare's eyepieces flashed once, and the Terminator currently struggling to jettison his assault cannon suddenly jerked around as if attached to strings. Using the Tactical Dreadnought Armor's massive strength, he bought the weapon's recoil under control and calmly unloaded the remaining ammunition into his comrades' backs. When his ammunition finally ran out, he dropped the weapon, walked over to one of his fallen comrades, and picked up the abandoned storm bolter. A few of the OPAW troopers noted how closely his movements mirrored those of the operative's when he casually bought the weapon below his chin and pulled the trigger.
The few that survived the meson burst bombardment and their comrade's Psychic Special Warfare operative-induced betrayal were scattered by the flurry of Chaos Mines that followed.
Even with the benefit of inertial dampeners, Sergeant Melinda Klos of the 17th Raiders had to clench her teeth in order to not bite her tongue upon landing. Despite a ten-plus meter freefall, she had landed completely intact. The same could not be said for the Chaos Terminator that had unwillingly cushioned her descent. Without batting an eyelid, the Raider put her weapon to the thing's back and fired. She stepped off the rapidly-cooling corpse and drew a hadron saber just in time to parry an incoming Lightning Claw swipe, slicing straight through the matter-disrupting blades. As the adamantium titan stumbled forward, Melinda reversed her grip and rammed the blade straight through her opponent's helmet.
A short distance away, Lieutenant Ted Breslin was blindsided by a Chaos Terminator almost immediately after landing. Most soldiers would have surrendered at the sight of a Terminator bearing down on them, but Raiders were not "most soldiers." Ted rushed forward, preventing his opponent from bringing his combi-bolter to bear. Ducking beneath the swinging Power Fist, he slid around behind the Terminator and grabbed the first power feed his hands found. With a grunt and a mighty pull, he yanked the thick cable out of its housing. Unbalancing his opponent with a swift blow to the back of the knee, Ted triggered a Chaos Mine and shoved it into the gap between the Terminator's helmet and armor.
"That's enough!" the voice announced as Ted leapt clear, "Fall back to point A3 and hit the ground!"
The ground shook as the Raiders hurriedly disengaged and withdrew, a swarm of Chaos Terminators hot on their heels. The Lieutenant watched as a lucky bolter hit staggered one his troopers. The Private was decapitated by a Power Sword before he could recover. Bolter and assault cannon shells filled the air around the survivng Raiders, but a steady stream of hadron bolts prevent the incoming fire from becoming too accurate.
They threw themselves to the ground as soon as they reached the designated point. The reason soon became abundantly clear as a squad of Knightmares burst from the ground, FLEIJA Launchers loaded and ready. The warheads soared straight over the prone Raiders and ravaged the Terminators pursuing them.
With a roar, Kallen smashed through the layered adamantium-ceramite-plasteel plating as if it were mere flak armor. As her opponent vainly struggled, Kallen triggered her Radiant Wave Surger and cooked the Chaos Terminator alive from within. Withdrawing her hand, the redheaded general whirled around, slicing both the incoming Power Fist and the Tactical Dreadnought Armor attached to it to ribbons.
"Fall back! It's Fulgrim!"
Finding the location of the transmission wasn't difficult by any means. A Psychic Special Warfare operative sent soaring with a mighty blow from the Daemon Primarch had punctuated the report. Kallen whirled around to see a number of Eldar Guardians and Aspect Warriors rushing in, weapons blazing. With broad sweeps of his four blades, Fulgrim swept them aside with contemptible ease.
"Raiders, operatives, on me!" Kallen ordered as, with Radiant Wave Surger aglow, she charged the fallen Primarch.
Combat Information Center
Space Station Ikaruga
"And with this," Lelouch announced to the combat information center's stunned silence, "I call check."
A/N: As the final battle draws near, the Emperor calls his lost sons to him!