Come Home, Wayward Son
A/N: Well, this is awkward. I am neglecting my main fanfic for something else AGAIN! Anyway, this is a crossover between Fire Emblem: Three Houses (developed by Intelligent Systems and Koei Tecmo, published by Nintendo) and Warhammer 40,000 (published by Games Workshop). This will star a few OC's of mine and a good friend of mine named Tim Curry's Toxic Love (check him out and give his stories a read, it will help him with his self-esteem and confidence as a fellow writer).
Now I know, OC's are often (understatement of the millennium) bad in execution but one of the main appeals of tabletop games such as Warhammer and Dungeons & Dragons is that the players can create their own unique characters (or failing that, just take the easy way out and make Copy Sues because they're either lazy idiots or are shitposting on everyone, including the GM/DM) and settings, leading to many wondrous homebrews which you can find on 1d4chan such as the Angry Marines (MAXIMUS FUCKIUS FAGGOTS!), the Reasonable Marines, Old Man Henderson, Crazy Hassan the Used Camel Salesman, and Sir Bearington to name a glorious few. Search them up on 1d4chan's official site, they are awesome!
So anyways, the setting, specifically on Warhammer's side of things, will be a combination of GeeDubs (GW) Canon (I'll try to leave out anything retarded like the canon Nemesis Dreadknight design, seriously the fanmade kitbashes were actually better), /tg/ Canon (they get shit done, and you'll know them when you see them), and TTS Canon (which is technically a subset of /tg/ Canon). So, expect a few homebrews being referenced here and there as well as a few underrated and outright neglected aspects of Warhammer to be mentioned at least.
As for when in Three Houses does this chapter take place, it takes place a few years before the events of the game's beginning, specifically just after Sitri runs off with Jeralt Reus Eisner.
And apologies in advance if some moments here feel a little too cliché or break established lore of either setting.
Date Started: 11-02-2020 A.D.
Date Finished: 11-05-2020 A.D.
Date Modified/Edited: 11-05-2020 A.D.
[Prologue: The Thirteenth Creation]
[Undisclosed Location]
She had to make this work. Too much was at stake for another failure. The Twelfth, Sitri, had fallen for the captain of the very order she had made, running off with him and leaving her forces wanting. Still, her enemies surround her and her allies, leaving her no room to adequately breathe.
She molded the energy in her hands into a body, one suitable enough to be her Champion. Just as it had formed into the desired shape, a massive explosion rocked the room and sent her to the floor in pain. Getting up as quick as she could despite the pain wracking her body, she grabbed the body of her latest creation and went outside to see what had attacked them.
They had arrived.
These foes were different from the ones she and her order had fought in the past. They bore a skull on their bodies, dual colored with one side bleached white and the other abyssal black. They wore armor that rivalled that of Generals and other heavily armored warriors, yet they moved swiftly as if they were one with the wind! They came in a group of eleven, easily overpowering her own warriors on their own even when her own warriors vastly outnumbered them.
These foes never once uttered a single sound, every one of these eleven monsters silent forever even as many of her warriors struck at their bodies. With swift and calculated movements, they struck down her warriors. Each time, they struck down eleven warriors in utter silence.
Rhea had to escape, with as many of her order as she can or on her own with her Creation, she did not know yet.
"Brave warriors, to me!" Rhea rallied her forces to her voice but had also brough their foes' attention onto her. One of them raised a strange weapon, dark magic energy swirling around it. A slight twitch of their armored finger was all the warning they had before a roaring thunder sounded off, deafening all but the warrior's ten companions, and sending a thin beam of unknown energy straight at Rhea!
On instinct, her powers flared up to divert this beam away from her and her Creation. A barrier of energy surrounded her and her warriors, the beam of energy crashing into it. The sheer strength behind this energy was rapidly sapping away at her magic energy. Rhea gritted her teeth as she tried to divert this strange energy elsewhere, anywhere. She barely succeeded, sending the beam at an angle that barely missed her head, the sheer heat generated by the beam burning a part of her face and her hair in the process.
The sight of their leader brought low by such vile weaponry broke some of the weaker willed of her warriors. But try as they might to either escape or attack their foes in their insanity, they had failed and had fallen to these silent harbingers of despair.
Rhea, through the pain, manages to stand up. Gathering up more magic, she sends bolts of lightning, streams of intense flame and chilling blizzards at her enemies, over and over, draining her reserves as best as she could. The armored horrors were pushed back by her magic, allowing her own warriors a moment to gather themselves or strike them down. Seeing that they are still going strong, Rhea casts a Bolganone, creating a massive fissure and spewing for intense volcanic flames, drenching her armored foes in the lava.
She collapsed, bringing her Creation closer to her chest. That drained her reserves. She never fired that many spells at once, it was agony to even lie still with her child close to her! Her warriors did their best to aid their leader when they heard metal clacking on the ground. They tensed and the most able moved to defend their comrades-in-arms.
Only one armored monster emerged from the flames, the same one with that strange, damning weapon. The flames cleared, revealing that the other ten warriors accompanying him were gone as if they had never existed at all!
The Warrior raised the weapon once more in one hand, the other held a staff of unknown design.
He plans to destroy them all in one attack!
She gathered whatever magic she had left, she fired off a hasty Agnea's Arrow.
The Warrior fired off a sinister bolt of arcane might.
Both attacks collided with one another midway on their path to their intended targets. And that was when something had caught the attention of all within the secluded temple.
A collision of two very different energies had created a massive rip, uncontrolled by anything fabricated and feeding on its very surroundings. A trillion to one chance, an extreme few in existence have had the privilege or the misfortune on seeing one occur before their very eyes.
The Warrior, taking advantage of the opposition's state of awe, was upon them before promptly slaughtering all but one. Rhea could not see the fiend's eyes, but she can feel them on her soul. Judging her, knowing exactly what she was underneath.
She could not stop the Warrior as it took her latest Creation. She could not find the strength to stop the Warrior from stepping into the rip. A blink of an eye and the rip, along with the Warrior and her Creation, was gone.
She was all that remained in this secluded temple high up in the mountains.
With none but the dead surrounding her, Archbishop Rhea of the Church of Seiros wept.
[The Warp]
The Sons of Malice Sorcerer stepped into the roiling sea that was the Warp. As always, it was chaotic, as his patron god had wanted, with different Chaos Spawns and Warpbeasts indiscriminately striking one another down. He moved, swiftly and silently as a shadow, careful not to draw attention to himself or the child in his arms.
He has not a clue as to why his god wanted this thing. Perhaps if he consumed the child, it would grant him an increase in his already mighty strength. The Malice Sorcerer would not know for sure until he brings this child back to the Labyrinth, the space hulk in which all his battle brothers gather once every century.
His brothers had perished. That woman was weak, yet her attack was enough to reduce his brothers to ashes. If all the psykers living on that backwater planet could unleash such powerful attacks, he will need to inform the Ten. The time for the Challenge is near, and though as single Champion can easily conquer that backwater planet, he would be foolish to not take precautions. Past mistakes have driven that sentiment deep into their minds.
As he travelled across the perilous wastes of the Warp, he heard something. Another rip was opening. Whoever it was, it was massive.
He took another step into the rip and the Malice Sorcerer found his answer. No longer did he stand upon the Warp, but upon a world currently torn apart by war. A world he recognized as one of many fronts by the Sons of Malice for their patron god.
A Lancer Pattern Mk.2 Adeptus Astartes Battle-Barge flew high above him, accompanied by smaller Adeptus Astartes Strike Cruisers and Escort Fleets. The ships bore the colors of jungle green and steel gray, even the Aquilla and other Imperial heraldry were colored as such. The Loyalist ships fired upon their foes, a large temple dedicated to Malal, the Renegade Chaos God!
Almost instantly, other creatures of the Warp descended upon them from their own rips in realspace. Malice Daemons swarmed the Imperial ships, and they were quickly responded by the ordnance the Imperials had brought with them. Smaller spacecraft emerged from the Astartes ships, their pilots doing their best to strike down the horrors of the Warp with their onboard weaponry. Scores of cultists dedicated to the Renegade God came to assist their daemonic allies, firing an assortment of salvaged lasguns and autoguns at the Loyalist forces. Some had also made use of vehicles they had stolen from warzones between the Loyalists and their foes such as the Leman Russ and the Hydra Flak Tank, using them to devastating results upon the Loyalist forces.
Continuing to move even as he watched the battle unfold, the Malice Sorcerer picked up speed, navigating the planet he was on, using the burning jungles as cover. Upon reaching a massive divide, the Malice Sorcerer jumped. Thanks to his transhuman nature, as well as the blessings of his patron god, the Sorcerer crossed the divide easily. Once he had landed, he can then open a Warp rift to get him back to the Labyrinth safely.
Fate, however, was not on his side for a Fire Raptor had just blasted through a swarm of Malice Lesser Daemons, the aircraft in question at an angle where the pilots can clearly see the Sorcerer and his package.
The pilots' eyes recognized him in an instant.
"Brothers, I've laid eyes on an Astartes Traitoris," one had voxed to all in the fleet. Within the minute, a Thunderhawk had responded, its Heavy Bolters firing at the Malice Sorcerer as well as any nearby Daemons, Lesser or Greater, as well as any cultists still within the fight.
"Acknowledged, Battle-Brother. We will pursue the Traitor! Continue with clearing the skies of daemons!"
The Malice Sorcerer was incentivized to retreat even quicker. With any luck, he should be able to divert their attention to more pressing matters, namely in the form of the Warpbeasts harassing their ranks. Unfortunately for the Malice Sorcerer, the Loyalist forces had more than enough armaments to repel the Chaos beasts and the Thunderhawk continued its relentless pursuit. The Thunderhawk fired its Turbo-Laser Destructor, sending a white-hot lance of weaponized radioactive energy into the dirt ahead of the Malice Sorcerer, sending chunks of land and debris everywhere and throwing the Malice Sorcerer off-balance as he was sent flying from the sheer force of the lasbolt.
The Malice Marine dropped the young child in his grasp, the glowing body gaining the attention of the Thunderhawk's crew. Luckily, the area they were above of sound ground, allowing some of the Astartes within the Thunderhawk to disembark and land safely.
Much like the Thunderhawk they had emerged from, these Primaris Astartes were colored in jungle green and steel gray. They wore the Mk.10 Pattern of Power Armor, as is standard for the majority of Primaris Astartes of the diverse Space Marine Chapters across the Milky Way Galaxy, and in their hands were the Mk.2 Cawl Pattern Bolt Rifle. Most within the squad were in the standard Mk.10 Tacticus variant and were equipped with the standard form of the Bolt Rifle, while others were equipped with the Mk.3 Belisarius Pattern Assault Plasma Incinerator. One stood out, wearing instead the more formidable Mk.10 Gravis variant and carrying a Heavy Bolt Rifle in one hand and a Power Sword in the other.
The moment they landed, they immediately fired upon any Warpbeast within range of their potent weapons. Though deadly within realspace, the 0.75-Calibre bolt rounds were of reduced lethality against the Warpbeasts due to their very metaphysical nature, resulting in the Marines having to expend more bullets for each individual Warpbeast. When they got close, the Astartes were prepare for such a situation. Be it unarmed or with a melee weapon, the Astartes fought hard against the tide.
The Marine in Mk.10 Gravis Armor burst-fired his Heavy Bolt Rifle, the 1.0-Calibre bolt rounds dealing more damage to the Warpbeast than the standard 0.75-Calibre bolt rounds as it required less shots per burst to reduce the foul monstrosities into chunks. He shifted his aim to another Warpbeast once his current target was destroyed, slashing at any that got too close with his Power Sword.
Soon enough, the Astartes of the Stella Predonum Chapter had reached the creature that had been in the Malice Marine's hold. By now, it was no longer glowing.
What their transhuman eyes beheld made them, for a minute fraction of a second, pause. It was a human child, barely within his teens, as small as the average Hive-Worlder at the age of twelve. The child's skin was pale, much like the skin colors of the Raven Guard Chapter and the Blood Angels Chapter to name a few, unblemished by any horrendous mutation. Dark green hair, almost indistinguishable from black, decorated the child's head. The child was currently in a fetal position, huddling every part of their body close to their core as if to keep warm in the cold.
It would have made the Astartes quickly grab the child had they forgot the fact that they were still in a warzone on a cultist-controlled planet.
The lead Astartes scanned the child's body, the scanners of his helmet finding anything that deemed this creature tainted or not. His scanners found traces of energy not unlike that of the Warp but at the same time much different from it. Strange, most strange. Different scenarios and hypotheses came into his head, along with different solutions and alternative solutions.
This took less than a second, all the information coming at him at an instant would have sent mortal humans into insanity, yet it was just another second in the life of the Adeptus Astartes. The Marine grabbed the child and nodded to his fellow Battle-Brothers.
They too nodded and made their way back to the Thunderhawk as quick as they can. By now, most of the Warpbeasts harassing their fleet had been dealt with, clearing the way for them to advance unobstructed.
For the most part.
Recovering seconds after the Stella Predonum Marines recovered the small child, the Malice Marine was quick to be on the offensive. Bringing the ancient corrupted Volkite Charger to aim, he struck down four Marines in a single well-place shot. The sudden attack sent the other Loyalist Marines into an alert, most heading for cover from the fearsome weapon and the rest turning to open fire on the Traitor Marine.
The Lead Marine opened fire, the heavy mass reactive rounds either missing due to the Traitor's movements or striking at thicker parts of the Traitor's armor. He and nearby squad mates began to spread out, firing at the Traitor Marine as they did, to give their brothers time to recover the fallen.
The Malice Marine raised his staff, Warp energies dancing around in an ominous manner. A moment later, Warp fire and lighting raced forth from the tip of the staff, serving as to either obstruct the path of the Loyalists or strike them down.
The Thunderhawk responded in kind, the Turbo-Laser Destructor having a clear shot of the Traitor Marine and took it. The Sorcerer did not have time to erect a Warp shield, the destructive lasbolt disintegrating him and thus ending his threat to the Battle-Brothers of the Stella Predonum.
With the foul Sorcerer dead and their fallen brethren recovered, the Loyalist Marines boarded the Thunderhawk and the aircraft in turn lifted off the tainted ground and flew back to their Battle-Barge.
Once within one of the landing bays of the ship, the Astartes squad disembarked and made their way to the bridge of the ship. The lead Astartes carried the child in one hand, the sight of which made many within the venerated halls of the ship pause, as he got closer to the bridge.
Upon entering the bridge, he laid eyes on their Chapter Master. He towered over his fellow Battle-Brothers, thanks to a sanctioned prototype Tactical Dreadnought Armor that can be best described as a hybrid between Tartarus Terminator Armor, Centurion Armor and Mk.10 Gravis Heavy Armor. Currently, he is without his helmet, revealing his aged face for all to see. Ten studs decorated his face, signifying that this Astartes was well over a millennium old! Numerous battle scars marred his transhuman face, further hinting that the millennium was not spent idling about.
The Chapter Master took note of the Astartes that had arrived at the bridge, turning to face him.
"Brother-Captain Endras, you've returned earlier than expect."
"There's been a minor complication, Chapter Master Corvo," Endras showed him the child in his arms. The aged warrior's eyes analyzed the child as he came closer to his fellow Battle-Brother. The child was sleeping comfortably as he could in the Marine's hold but had stirred from his sleep once his small ears picked up the sound of the Chapter Master's approach. The child's eyes opened, revealing light green eyes that sparkled with innocence. These same eyes regarded the Chapter Master with wonder, with the child reaching his small, fragile hands out to touch the aged veteran's face.
"Where did you find this child?"
"He was within the grasps of a Chaos Sorcerer," Endras explained, earning many looks ranging from intrigue to disgust. "I've scanned his body but found no immediate traces of Warp taint and found instead a different form of energy."
"Much like the Orks and their Waaagh energy?"
"It seems likely, sir."
With this information in mind, Chapter Master Urzyn Corvo was at a crossroads. The human side of him wanted to shelter this child from the horrors of this dark future they live in. The pessimistic side of him wanted to purge the child and not risk any potential corruption within his chapter. The opportunistic side of him wanted to induct this child into his ranks, perhaps harness this unknown energy for the good of humanity.
But he had more pressing matters now, namely the Malice cultists still within their fleet's immediate vicinity.
"Keep the child in a secure location for now, Brother-Captain, the cultists below are the more apparent threat for now." Brother-Captain Endras nodded, swiftly turning to head for the Apothecarion of the ship.
Chapter Master Urzyn looked back to the tactical map overseeing the planet's surface. Currently, most of the cultist forces have been eliminated with extreme prejudice and the rest have retreated within the temple.
Good, he nodded slightly, it shall become their tomb. After ordering all Loyalist troops to withdraw back into the ships, the Battle Barge's bombardment cannons unleashed their righteous fury upon the heretical temple and the surrounding lands.
To more zealous members of the Imperium, such a sight is glorious. To the Astartes of the Stella Predonum, it was merely another conclusion to another battle against the Great Enemy. With the threat handled with, Chapter Master Urzyn leaves the bridge and heads for the Apothecarion as well.
It was time to decide the child's fate.
[The Labyrinth]
The Ten felt a soft disturbance in the Great Ocean. A small, unnoticeable disturbance that only the truly adept of Warpcraft can distinguish.
Another potential champion for Eleven has fallen but his death was not in vain. A psychic beacon had been placed in the child's heart, feeding from his emotions. All the Ten had to do now was send a collector to retrieve the child.
One channeled warp magics through his hand, followed by Two and Three. The rest stood back as a Greater Daemon of Malice emerged from the summoning circle.
It spoke to the Ten, yet it was completely silent. It wanted to know what was to be retrieved.
A psychic pulse from Eight told the Daemon what he should know, and he nodded in response to this task.
From the Labyrinth's darkest depths burst forth a Guardian of Contradictions, and he has come to collect.
A/N: Alright, this prologue is done! Now, the Space Marine Chapter in question is a homebrew of my own design. At their most simple definition, the Stella Predonum is a hybrid between the Manly Marines and the Reasonable Marines. You will learn more of them by the next chapter.
As for my choice of Chaos worshippers, I decided to go for Malal. Why? The dude's underrated and Khorne is a bit overdone (again, understatement of the millennium), Tzeentch is an overplotting and indecisive mollusk, Nurgle (Best Chaos Grandpa) is a lazy trashheap and Slaanesh is the worst drug junkie and sex offender in existence. That, and the Sons of Malice Traitor Marines are damn badasses at what they do.
The next chapter shall decide the poor boy's fate at the hands of the Loyalist Space Marines. Minor spoiler: Nothing grimdark will happen.