AN: This is my first ever Fanfic for the FOZ, my first story and my first crossover. Also english is not my best language and I hope you can forgive the lack of grammar and punctuation.
This story may or may not be continued, depending on many things. But mainly, I'm using this to practice English. I also may not do the character justice, if so consider it a AU since I last saw this show many years ago.
Please Review. It helps me learn.
"You are not welcome here, beast!" Hamael boomed, his voice laced with anger, hatred and loathing.
An Encarmine axe bit into a Tyranid hormagaunt, cleaving into its head. Alien ichor sizzled and disintegrated on the power field as Its lifeless body fell to the stained plains of an alien plain; joining the multitude of deceased tyranid bodies, wrecks of Imperial vehicles and the shredded remains of their occupants.
"By his blood. From his blood. In the name of the Emperor and the Primarch Sangunius. We defy you. In the name of the Imperium. We will defy you."
A golden boot stomped on the twitching skull and then his other foot kicked out like a propelled missile. It crunched into the chest cavity of a leaping termagant; knocking it back into the swarm to get ripped apart by its crazed brethren. The beasts paid no heed to it. So single-minded they were in their goal to eviscerate and devour.
The golden giant fired his inferno pistol with a squeeze of his finger, incinerating the nearest creatures. The swarm smashed past the ashes. With Pointed teeth, scythed talons and inhuman appendages reaching out to rend.
Then he jumped upwards with a roar.
Hamael soared over the chittering swarm on a plume of fire. Alien projectiles fired from weapon limbs and symbiotic bio-creatures followed after him: gnashing worms with sharp teeth, glowing balls of dripping bio-acid and quills coated in potent toxins. Flying gargoyles and other aerial beasts flew in mobs, moving to intercept and use their own flesh as rams or swung large talons.
None found purchase or blocked his path.
The winged jump pack propelled ever skywards. The incensed machine-spirit of the inferno pistol burnt with fury and fire, setting flying forms plummeting like falling comets.
The broad wings behind him, though motionless in the wind, made him like an angel of legend to the surviving mortals below. Light from the three suns reflecting off the golden armour, forming a sheen of an aura, inspiring those who viewed it with steeled resolve and renewed tenacity.
Far below the aerial fight, a battle was being fought between the endless xenos and the defiant thousand. A motley gathering of shattered PDF and guard assets; untrained armed civilians and hardened criminals; and a shattered squad of tactical marines. All assembled together as a hastily planned convoy to a way offworld.
It did not need to be said that the chances of rescue were now non-existent. The horde hemming them in and squeezing them dry like a citrus fruit.
Though instead of panicked fear, which Hamael had half-expected. Only a gesture of Imperial pride stood in place. The will to spite and fight against their devourer, to shatter its teeth. And it was a glorious sight to behold from above: volley upon volley of las and bolt rounds, explosives and plasma, forming an unceasing wall of firepower and stubbornness.
However he was an angel that was dying, Hamael thought.
Once immaculate armour was riddled with rents and tears, revealing sparking wires and freshly scabbed-over flesh. The white wings scarred with battle-damage from numerous battles. Silent alarms hymed out in his helm, alerting to the already abysmal reserves of power and compromised systems that kept his servos. And his blood coursed with a myriad of Tyranid toxins, slowing him down as his Betchers Gland resisted with ever-diminishing effect.
"I am Brother Hamael of the Blood Angels, of the Sanguinary guard, and I seek a beautiful death in his name." He roared out defiantly as gravity pushed him back downwards into the seething mass.
His frame smashed into a group of gaunts, landing among them like an exploding mortar; scattering them and mashing them underneath his bulk. His axe sung its death song into the stunned foe and sent limbs, viscera and broken forms skywards.
The axe was swung in a maelstrom of blows, a dance of death towards death, and Hamael moved unimpeded deeper into the swarm. An art form honed to perfection after centuries of practice and experience brought to full bear. Every blow was a death strike, hewing bodies on a molecular level. Every melta shot immolated inhuman forms to ashy mist. His jump pack flared to life, jinking him around the frenzied mob and lethal strikes in a way that belied his stature.
It was beautiful but it was beauty wasted.
Every bio-form brought low, only sent ten more against him. A harbinger of the inevitable numberless tide. The original group of ten had been diminished to just him, the others dragged down with talons or swatted by aerial beasts. Their golden frames forever covered by alien limbs and maws. Already the human mortals, still fighting, now number in the scant dozens. They gathered atop broken vehicle hulls, forming small islands of resistance and were, or will be, drowned out under a tide of bodies.
Brother Hamael knew that the battle was lost. But he shall not go quietly. He sang a death-hymn in an ever-gurgling throat. His vision slowly clouded with a black. Large canines poked out from his mouth. And a primal frenzy began to well within him, to slay and slay until nothing remained.
The blood called to him. It fed on his moment of despair, his frustrations and anger. Images of marines in debased ancient suits of armour replaced tyrannic creatures, alien appendages and hoofs morphing to tainted weapons and iron boots. They charged towards him with garbled speech and animalistic snarls, braying of false gods and blood. Always the blood.
But Hamael pushed back, beating against the Red thirst -the bane and curse of his chapter. His fangs bit into his lips and drew blood, litanies and psalms sung in his head until clarity came back. It was not the time for it, he repeated to himself. The axe bit deep into a maddened marine, but left a nid corpse behind as the image of a long-forgotten nemesis vanished. He did not want to lose himself, not until he found it. But he did not need to worry for long.
It found him instead.
A hive tyrant on its last leg. The leader of this swarm. Its exoskeleton was marred with deep furrows and pockmarked craters, some old and others freshly made. The scars of old and recent battles. A sole eye glared back with a baleful look, a glimmer of an intelligence beyond human comprehension and recognition. And it bounded towards him, crushing lesser bio-forms beneath its charge. It gave a mighty roar; one that promised death, vengeance and a call for a challenge.
The beast paused midcharge, confusion and alarm dotted its face, before focusing once again in a snarling rage at his foe.
Hamael gave no reply as he soared on wings of fire towards it. Axe raised high and pistol firing at the frenzied monster. He moved towards his eventual, but beautiful, death.
Louise Françoise le Blanc de La Vallière was… worried. No, she wasn't worried she was anxious so to say. The reason? her turn was soon approaching. The moment that would define her life, and her standing as an actual mage. To be a someone and not a Zero.
She recalled boasting about her eventual summon, that it would be a majestic one. A divine one that would eclipse everyone else's; to force them to view her with awe and respect. And she was praying to Brimir that her boasting would stand. Though with each and every successful summoning would only inflame her prayers with equal desperation.
Especially since Kirche, her rival, had summoned a fire-breathing salamander. Brimir, she hated how Kirche would taunt her on that. That smug playful look on her face when she had succeeded and proceeded to taunt her with that overgrown lizard. Petting it on the head as it snuggled into her.
Not that she was jealous or anything.
Then Tabitha summoned an actual dragon. Which caused Louise to be slightly thankful that Kirche had not managed to summon it. Lest she be even more furious- given that Kirche had looks, height and bountiful… assets.
Lousie swore she'll one up Kirche finally. She'll summon something better than that lizard and show them all. An even bigger dragon, yes, that'll show them all who's the best. And then the mockery would stop. Louise the Zero. Louise the Explosion. Louise the—
"Louise!" A cry shook her from her thoughts and she looked over to the speaker.
"Have you had your turn?" Professor Colbert asked. The other students snickered quietly, while others outright mocked her before they were all silenced with a glare. "Have you gone yet, Louise?
"No, not yet," Louise admitted.
"Then you may proceed, you are the last one," Colbert said motioning to a clear area. The other students backed away a fair distance, clearly wary, but close enough to view whatever the Zero would summon. If she could summon. A few looked rather amused, few being Kirche. Giving a smug look from her position.
Louise stepped towards the clearing, mocking following her with every footstep.
"There's no way she would summon anything." A female voice stated.
"She's just gonna get us all killed." Another whispered.
"The only thing she's good at is blowing up." A chuckle came.
Louise could feel her footsteps grow heavy with worry and fear from every mocking insult, like knives into her esteem- or what was left of it. That they may be correct in their assumptions: That she was good at nothing except blowing up.
"With all your boasting, you should be able to summon something up more amazing than this, right, Louise?" Kirche jeered.
"Well, of course." Louise put it aside for now. Her mind must be clear for the ritual, and she shoved the ball of emotions deep down within her. Her worries may or may not be unfounded.
Now was the time to find out.
"My servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe!" she began. Everyone went silent, eager to see the outcome with entertained faces and confused by her rather unusual sentence. Something that was unorthodox but still amusing as the start for a spell.
"My divine, beautiful, wise, and powerful servant, heed my call! I wish and usurp from the very bottom of my heart, answer my guidance and appear" Louise whisked her hand in a circular motion before whipping it down.
Nothing happened: No explosion, no flash of light, no impending fireball dropping down from the skies. Just a gentle breeze.
"I guess that the zero is still a ze—" Kirche said before cut off. The whole world went boom.
Acrid smoke and dust engulfed the entire area like a storm, throwing everyone into disarray. Cries of confusion and screams rang out, alongside a bestial roar, the bursts of exploding flames and the shaking of the earth. Heavy footsteps and an almost in-human snarl, was followed with a strong metallic scent that hung in the air that caused one to gag.
Louise was thrown to the ground by the sudden burst, her mind shaking from the sudden outburst of noise, and her ears rang with an unceasing ring. Her blurred vision was masked by the lingering dust cloud that pulsed with colours and lights that flashed within; shining with bright flames, bluish tails of light and the glow of sickly green. The outline of a monstrous form towered over her, illuminated for a split second, with long curved talons that swung at something darting around it. A muted roar sounded out and her bones shook. She squinted hard trying to make it out in her incoherent state what it was fighting.
Then she saw it.
A small glimpse but it was enough. A figure that stood far above her, much taller than Kirche, Colbert or even anyone else she had seen, like a giant, and it fought the creature with a magical weapon that trailed a tail of incandescent the cloud. But that was not what got her attention. It was the wings. Or rather the sight of wings.
A shrieking call rang out before a final earth-shaking thud, then it was only silence.
The dust and smoke finally settled. Louise was sitting her expression agape, her uniform singed and dirty from the devastating spell. She looked up in a confused manner to see Professor Colbert aiming a staff in front of her, a look on his face that seemed out of place to the stern teacher she knew. A look that reminded her mother. Turning her head she saw why.
Where there was once a grassy clearing. It now resembled a battlefield, the ground littered with craters and furrows that dug deep into the dirt. The spot where she had aimed her spell now lay an enormous daemonic creature that would've dwarfed a wagon or two, and almost ghastly in sight as it leaked thick purple ichor and gels from open wounds and missing appendages. Its needle-like teeth revealing an eternal grimace as blank, diluted eyes stared back, a large ornate axe bisecting its cranium.
Louise would've continued to stare at the dead monster, her face a mixture of disgust, horror and terror. The urge to hurl from the pungent smell that bit at her nostrils and unleash her breakfast. But it was what slew it that had her attention.
And it was beautiful. Like a piece of art. She did not believe it as her mind cleared of its haziness, almost certain that she was perhaps hallucinating.
A majestic figure stood in all its glory, propped upright by a scythed blade that dug into its chest and out the back. Its golden face was stern with a defiant gaze until she realized it was a mask. So lifelike was it that she had to do a double-take when she noticed the black tubes. The armor was also of an unknown style and badly battle-damaged, but the craftsmanship and detail of it was unmistakable, more of a work of art by master artisans than a means of defence. Large wings of metal jutted out from the oversized box on its back, pure white as snow but marred by damage. And a large tear-drop shaped ruby on its oversized pauldron facing her, almost the size of a child's head, and beneath it was a name written in ancient Romailian -something she picked up with her studies, although sparingly.
"Ha-mae-l," Louise pronounced slowly, stunned by what she was seeing. It took moments before the gravity of the situation hit her. She had successfully summoned something, no, she had summoned two things. A surge of giddyness welt up inside her. And one of them was a divine and majestic familiar that could beat Kirche's stupid lizard any day, for she had summoned an angel of Brimnir. Then just as soon as it arrived, it went away with cold hard reality as she recalled the sharp thing poking from its chest and the lack of movement.
It was dead. Both of them were dead. Both of her summons were dead.
"What happened?" Kirche asked rubbing her head.
"Lou… Louise summoned her familiar, which is…" Someone's voice trailed off before it picked up in surprise and loud shock. "A demon! An angel! Lousie the Zero has killed a demon and an angel!" he screamed out loud.
"The Zero has killed someone?!"
"Oh Brimnir, the smell! I'm feeling sick."
"Someone go and get the other professors! And stay away from the center. Get the medical mages here!" Professor Colbert yelled out, giving out orders and clearing the crowd of nauseated, shocked students away from the macabre sight. Many of whom added their own contributions to the ruined ground as they were herded away by arriving professors, while few stared in muted horror: bodies unwilling to move from the view. It was to his relief that no one had gotten hurt, well, no students. But his relief was short-lived when he saw a certain pink-haired one still sitting below him.
"Louise…" Colbert put his hand on her shoulder, a look of pity on his face. Louise didn't need to ask why, she knew.
"Does.. does this mean I'm getting expelled?" Louise said in shock and tears. Her mind stuck in what was familiar to her, trying to blot out what she was seeing.
Colbert paused for a moment, then only gave a small smile. "No, don't worry about it. This was an unusual occurrence, but I believe that another opportunity can be arranged for you to summon again." he offered assuringly, technically he wasn't supposed to allow this. However, she had succeeded but due to extraordinary circumstances, they had died fighting one another. Though it was nearly unheard of to summon two individuals. A small headache arose within his mind at the thought of how the rumors that she had killed an angel would spread like wildfire. Her life was gonna get much more difficult now -if her life wasn't hard enough already.
A sound distracted him for a moment, like the rasp of metal on metal, and drew his attention back to the two corpses. Colbert watched as the once-still angel grasped the blade and push himself off it, landing on the ground and sending dust up. Its voice deep and powerful like the thrumming of a cannon, "Fo-forgiveee meee, Emmp—"
Then it went still once more.
An amazed expression was on both of their faces. "He's still alive? He's alive!" Louise screamed gladly.
"Healers! Someone is injured, help the... angel." Colbert announced as he hurriedly ran up to check on the being.
