What if? What if our world, our birthplace, the weaver of human life, was more than just a planet permeated by cityscapes? What if she was something more than we let ourselves believe? Our world has become a symbol of mankind's unwillingness to bend to our foe, much like Cadia.
Trillions of prayers. Trillions of minds, of souls, think of her every day in the Imperium. And trillions now pray for every man, woman and child fighting and dying on her. Praying that these men and women, these heroes, are to see tomorrow when the Darkness encroaches upon them all. May our light never fade. May our sins be forgiven as we pass on. And may we be reclaimed upon our death.
The Emperor Protects...
Holy Terra, M42, Y467
In skies darkened by smoke and burning by the light of fires made by Orbital Weapons, pyres of millions upon millions lit the broken streets of Holy Terra. Imperator Titans battled their corrupt siblings far away in the skyline. In the streets themselves, Imperial Guardsmen, Adeptus Astartes, Sororitas and Custodes from all houses, planets, regiments and chapters responded to an onslaught of Chaos Daemons with the holy fury of a billion guns. The Black Crusade of Abaddon the Despoiler had finally reached its target, its fleets fighting high above against Battle Fleet Solar. Darkness had come...
The Imperials' numbers dwindled with every concerted assault, but the closer the Traitors and their Legions got to the Eternity Gates, the more fierce they found the resistance. Death Korps Guardsmen threw themselves willingly, forming the wall of bodies to stall the advance of the monsters, while Bolter thundered and Lascannons roared.
"Hold the line, Guardsmen! Hold the line! May we be damned if we let these heretics breach the Eternity Gate!" A Commissar bellowed, raising his bolt pistol to greet the horde while Cadian soldiers let loose a volley of Lasgun fire, like a wall of light.
Roboute Guilliman himself stood by his sons, wielding the blade of the Emperor with little remorse for the traitor Marines and their Daemonhood escort. Jaghatai Khan had, himself, returned from the depths of Comorragh, saved by his kindred and his Legion, to fight in the battle.
"Like old times, brother!" Leman Russ spoke to Guilliman, his Fenrisian accent thick and proud as he swung his own sword with abandon. The Wolves followed, Axes and bolters in hand. Primaris Intercessors followed close, the pelts of Fenrisian wolves on their shoulders and the Legion's symbol.
Guilliman had made sure all main legions, formerly chapters, reformed their ranks before the strike on Terra itself came. He nodded to Leman, too focused on the Khornate daemons ahead. This was a fight for the ages and all sides knew it.
The more they lost, the more everyone knew that this battle was decided. The forces of Chaos Undivided focused on the Eternity Gates, bringing forth a tidal wave of nightmarish creations and troops. Guardsmen and Sisters of Battle fought toe-to-toe with the enemy, as best as they could, but even their mighty hordes and faith could not stall the enemy forever.
Fulgrim, Primarch of the Emperor's Children, knew too well of this. And the vile grin he wore throughout the battle as he slaughtered hundreds on his own unnerved his brother, Magnus. The red, one-eyed Daemon Prince of Tzeentch watched as a Guardsman surged forward, one of those misbegotten bastards from Krieg. He missed half his right arm and only had a knife clasped in his left hand.
Yet the lunatic did not even scream as he attacked. A silent creature, made to be as he was by the Imperium's own folly. Magnus had to wonder if he'd have to waste a bit of his power to wipe the little man out before he came to poke him with that useless piece of steel. Yet, he found no such joy as one of the Death Watch splattered the faceless soldier on the floor.
The Advance to the Eternity Gates had been a crawl. Magnus couldn't even count the number of bodies he had stepped over while working his way into crossing this bridge. His Sons were ahead. He felt their Psychic powers flare and saw directed lightning dancing. The screams and wails of the damned souls of Imperials echoed in his head, now but a nuisance he had gotten used to.
He felt a light surge, his eye widening. He blinked.
"What happened, brother?" Fulgrim asked mockingly, that awful, deformed smile still there as he gutted an Imperial Guardsman.
"I… Do not know, Fulgrim. I felt something." Magnus answered, arranging his cloak over his wings "Something strong."
"Oh? Do you think, perhaps, that Father has finally decided to try and awaken? Now?" Fulgrim mocked "Or is it just the Eldar scum who've joined the Imperials in this Last Stand, dying in droves?"
"I do not know… As I said…" He shook his head "It is too strong to be just… Simple souls, even Aeldari ones. Nevermind. Let's proceed. The Gate is just ahead… As is our chance for vengeance."
"Yes… And so, mankind dies in the fire it set alight." Fulgrim laughed.
… Far in the back, near the Eternity Gate itself, wounded had been gathered. The fact that any even existed in this battle was a miracle in and of itself. Eldrad could feel the wailing souls of the Mon'Keigh soldiers sat in tents, just awaiting their deaths, while his own kind bled on the streets of this wretched planet.
He did not know why his visions led him here. Why Yvraine insisted on sailing forth with the Battlefleets of every Craftworld here, to defend just a Human world, he did know. He did not want the Galaxy and his people to be swallowed whole by the damnable Warp if… When this planet went up in flames.
An Imperial Guardsman begged as Eldrad passed by him, praying, murmuring something as tears streamed down his cheeks. He followed the dying man's gaze over to one of the edges of the bridge and he wondered if the soldier was delirious. But the nightmarish chill that froze his spine said otherwise.
He looked to the Guardsman again, listening.
"And as He lay on the Golden Throne, protecting us, His flock, may Terra have mercy upon us for our sins… And may She look upon Her children with forgiveness in this Hour…"
What was he spouting…?
Eldrad jumped to his feet, powering his spear and aiming it toward the face of a young woman with golden locks and eyes the color of the Ocean. She was clad, from head to toe, in a white dress, shawl and hood, with gold jewelry. Her skin was pale and she was beautiful. Her feet were bare and around her ankles, golden pieces of what looked like armor rested, bearing symbols Eldrad Ulthran himself could not recognize as anything but floral detailing.
The woman walked forward, pushing aside Eldrad's psychic blade with disregard, before kneeling in front of the young Guardsman. She took his face in her hands, then leaned her forehead onto his and whispered something in a language that felt so familiar, yet so lost to time for the Aeldari present. An aura of light enveloped the young man and his wounds began to fade.
The woman stood to her feet, her blue eyes shimmering as if the sun beat down on them. She turned to the center of the battlefield and walked. He didn't feel like he should stop her. He felt… For the first time in his centuries of life, Eldard Ulthran felt fear. But not just any kind of fear. One mixed with what the Aeldari had long lost. Hope.
Gunfire did not phase her. Rounds seemed to pass by or even through her as if she were a ghost. The Guardsmen in the line, from the Cadian to the Vostroyan and even the Krieger, ground to a halt. Weapons continued to fire, but many stared with awe… And it was as if, for a single moment, the entire world stopped.
Weapons ceased their incessant rattling, Plasma whirred no more and blades stopped midway through their strikes, corpses now littering the floor ahead. No Guardsman, nor Space Marine dared stop her as she walked forward. Guilliman, Jaghatai, Leman and their Marines turned to the woman that stepped in front of the Chaos Hordes.
And Magnus felt his incorporeal spine lock up, while Fulgrim stared with disbelief. Far, far away, in the confines of the Warp, the Chaos Gods themselves went silent as they watched the situation.
In the middle of the path, a seemingly human woman stared down the hordes of Chaos Undivided, all of which had also ground to a halt. Corrupted cultists, Blood Pact and other such nightmarish fiends growled and clenched their teeth, baring fangs at her. She looked to Roboute, Jaghatai and Leman and offered a smile only a proud mother would give her children.
Then, her glare locked onto the Traitors and Daemons and she scowled.
… A single Khornate Berserker pushed his way through, charging the woman with his chain-axe revved and ready to draw blood. Guilliman gasped, aiming the bolter on his gauntlet for the monster. But he was too slow. The axe came down and
It froze mid-strike. The woman stared at the weapon for a moment as it growled angrily, hungry for her flesh. She glared at the Chaos Marine and, with one hand, she raised him off the ground and crushed him, tossing him over the edge of the bridge with disregard. Yet it was not psychic powers that had taken the mutated nightmare that was once a proud Marine in their vice, crushing and discarding him like a tin can.
Vines. Vines like those of old rose from the depths around the bridge, bearing the emerald color of normal terran plants. Flowers borne on them were gigantic and they, tall as the tallest building on Terra. The woman pushed her hood off of her head, to reveal the golden circlet that had four marks. Ignis, Ventus, Aqua… And Terra.
Fire, wind, water… And Earth. The four Primal Elements, with the Aquila above, its wings wide.
A Guardsman, the one who was healed, stepped up first and asked "Who are you?" with disbelief.
She looked at him, a smile of pride on her face. She then turned to face the soldiers of the Imperium, the Humans and Marines and Ecclessiarchs and Psykers. A thousand men and women stared at her, with muted awe and Aeldari themselves seemed enamored by her presence… And she began to speak, her voice beautiful, strong, proud, yet sad.
"I was so weak back then, held back by primitive notions and unable to ascend. But now, I am pure and noble."
Her eyes locked onto the dead and dying on the bridge as she continued, tears welling in her eyes "The losses were tragic, and the price paid bitter to the tongue, but now I am one my children can look upon with awe and pride, an anchor against the eternal storm."
And then, she turned to the Chaos forces on the bridge, glaring "I am the Mother of Mankind! I am the Heart of the Imperium, the light in the darkness, the crown jewel of the galaxy!" And the vines around her began to dance, to move… Soldiers of Chaos and their machines of war were picked up and discarded like toys as she marched forward. Nightmarish sounds echoed from behind the forces of the Night.
And as if out of the dirt, animals borne right out of Terran stories charged as the buildings around were repaired, fed and recreated with the help of titanic plant life she summoned. The woman then roared with the Fury of a Mother, her eyes burning an ethereal blue as tears of love and sorrow turned to anger.
"I am Terra! Where my children Protect, I RECLAIM! Look upon me and my progeny, MONSTERS, and DESPAIR!"
AN:Born out of a discussion I had a year ago with a friend on Discord, I hope you enjoyed the Birth of a New God. A Goddess to Mankind, hailed since time immemorial as our Mother. The origin, the true Alpha and Omega. Holy Terra LIVES!
'Till next time, folks!