Jarod gazed at the tower red daemon that stood before him, thinking on what he had said. Magnus had said he wasn't lying, but… well, Tzeentchian honor was an oxymoron.
"You know, I would be inclined to believe you if you weren't such a bad liar," Jarod explained.
Magnus raised an eyebrow, "And why do you think I am lying? Why would I do such a thing?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know, the fact that you're a Chaos Daemon! With a capital C and D! It's common sense to treat anything and everything that has to do with you, as a cyclonic torpedo about to go off in front of you. In other words, we get away, fast." Jarod said, "Unfortunately, you have something we need and/or want, so we kinda need to be in close proximity."
"So, you admit you want to accept my offer?" Magnus asked.
Jarod gave him a deadpan stare, "No. I want you to unlock Michael's power, and to leave us alone forever, maybe we could come to an agreement. But as it is, you're probably either going to betray us during or immediately after the process, ritual, or whatever."
"Being honest? I would kind of like to keep my soul as it is." Micahel added.
"... The two of you are going to be rather difficult to reason with aren't you?" Magnus noted.
"Please. You live in the forty-first millennium and were born after the Golden Age of Man. You have no idea what reason is at all." Jarod scoffed.
Magnus actually let out a sigh, exasperation clear in his tone. Jarod idly wondered why he hadn't tried to kill them yet but considered the fact that he was probably hoping to get something out of their little exchange.
"What do you want? I mean, really want, out of this exchange?" Jarod asked.
Magnus frowned, "I've already told you. I want my soul to become whole again. My current form is merely a collection of shards, each of which could be removed at any time, an unfinished puzzle. If I were to recover my Nobility, I would be whole again."
"And what would you do if you regained your soul?"
The world seemed to go deathly silent, and Jarod was almost positive it was Magnus' doing. His body radiated a blue-red aura, which, in and of itself, was hard to look at.
"You should not presume to know my motives, mortal." He said, "Should I regain my soul, I will all the knowledge and power I had lost when Leman shattered it. I would be whole again, I would have the power to do anything I wished to."
"But that still doesn't tell me what you will do. Do you seek perfection? If that is the case, then you have already failed, unless you subscribe to Fulgrim's twisted ideology. Do you want power? What more could you gain? You are a daemon prince of Tzeentch, there is only so much higher you can go. Do you want to take revenge? Leman Russ is currently romping through the eye of terror, I don't think it would be that hard to find him. And if not Leman, then the space wolves still hold Fenris as their homeworld. You don't need your shard for any of this. So why do you want us to fetch it for you?" Jarod asked.
Magnus remained eerily still, and though the guardsmen around them couldn't tell, Jarod and Calivar noticed the traitor Astartes gripping their weapons a bit tighter.
"You tread on dangerous ground, Jarod Carolinus. If I so wished, I could order my sons to open fire and kill you where you stand, or I could simply kill you myself. But you know this. Making threats is redundancy on my part, for you are well aware of how powerful I am, it seems. It also appears that lying to you will not work either. So be it.
"I intend to mark Michael's soul, not with a mark of Tzeentch, but one of my own. Should you refuse to return my soul shard, or destroy it, or use it for some other means, I would simply devour Michael's soul, leaving an empty husk."
Despite the obvious implications, Jarod relaxed slightly. Magnus was getting rid of the subterfuge and trickery, something that was a staple of Tzeentch's followers. He knew that in the time of Guilliman's return, Magnus had become a servant to Tzeentch, and he had lost much of the ambition that had driven him. Hopefully, he hadn't quite reached that point yet.
"While I don't like the idea of Michael's soul getting eaten, I am glad that the pleasantries are out of the way. That said, I do have one last question, or I suppose, one last theory; You are running out of options."
Magnus raised an eyebrow.
"You don't like Tzeentch. You don't like that he holds his power over your head, that you are bound to him by being a daemon prince. If he so chose, you would be nothing more than dust in the wind," The traitor Astartes reacted visibly now, their armor - not shaking, but jerking in what must have been anger - minute movements, "But, if you got your nobility back, got your soul back… who knows what would happen?"
For a long few seconds, no one said anything. Then, Magnus laughed.
It was a booming, horrid sound. It echoed throughout the Material Realm and the Immaterium. Those present shuddered at the sound, be they psyker or normal human, no one quite knew what to make of Magnus' reaction. The Traitor Astartes thought that perhaps, Magnus was laughing at the ridiculousness of the offer, that he would never betray lord Tzeentch. And yet… there was a twitch in the back of their minds, something that told them that what Jarod was saying might actually be true.
The guardsmen gripped their weapons tighter, praying to the Emperor that they would come out alright. Jarod had warned them earlier when he'd insulted and blasphemed the Emperor, that he would be using unorthodox methods when confronting Magnus. They were aware of this, and yet, as prepared as they were, it wasn't easy to just stand by and watch.
Calivar was perhaps the most level-headed thinker, knowing what Jarod was doing to an extent. He was using what knowledge he had on Magnus, making the Daemon Primarch curious. If he could play off of Magnus' curiosity, then they might be able to get out of this situation alive.
Michael had a headache. And a bad one. Magnus' laugh echoed through his mind, and though Lucius stayed silent, Micahel could almost feel the Emperor's Children marine gritting his non-existent teeth. His thought's on Magnus' plans for him were rather simple; he'd expected them from day one.
"You truly are observant, and though I am curious as to how you gained such knowledge, I will not dispute it. I am not running out of options, however, yet you do know of my plan. Yes, I wish to free myself from Tzeentch's control. It is not a secret, as even the Lord of Change himself is aware of that fact." Magnus said with a smile.
Jarod grinned underneath his helmet, "Well then, I think we may have found an agreement."
Magnus blinked. To anyone without knowledge of a Primarch and their mannerisms, this might have been nothing to consider. But when you took into account that this was a Primarch, it gave off the impression that Magnus was surprised by Jarod's agreement.
"You… agree?" He asked warily.
Jarod shrugged, "Not to the marking Michael's soul part, no way I'm letting you do that, but if you do unlock his power… well, we stand only to gain by returning your nobility. So, what do you plan to do?"
Magnus smiled, "This," the Primarch said, before waving his hand in Michael's direction.
Jarod's eyes widened, "WAIT-"
And he was cut off by a bright explosion of white light.
[-]
The first thing Michael noticed was the lack of the oily smell that permeated the inside of his power armor. Ever since he'd gotten it from the Techpriests it had been covered in the scent. At first, he hadn't minded, understanding that there were a lot of techpriests that preferred to lather everything they touched in oil, but after wearing it for a few minutes, it got old pretty quickly.
Still, the lack of scent was the least of what he'd noticed. Opening his eyes, he saw a bright blue sky, with white puffy clouds floating overhead. He stood up, looking around at the landscape around him. A desert. Not the dune, sand filled, windy deserts of Egypt, but the rocky, red-brown deserts of mid-west America. Dead grass and bushes littered the ground, and in the distance, he saw giant rust-colored towers of rock jutting up out of the ground.
In Michael's opinion, it was both beautiful and ugly at the same time. On one hand, it was pretty to look at, but on the other, holy crap it was hot!Michael hated hot weather and the fact that he was in a literal desert wasn't helping things.
'Hey, Lucius? You know what happened?' he asked mentally.
"I am afraid I know as little as you do of the situation." he heard Lucius' voice from behind him.
Spinning around, Michael found himself face-to-face with a very large space marine, that being Lucius. Michael at first wondered how Lucius had gotten out of his head before he quickly came to the conclusion that he was either within his own mind, and that the desert was just a figment of his imagination, and that Magnus had done something when he'd hand waved in his direction.
"What happened? Last I remember we were discussing Magnus' offer, then all of a sudden Magnus did something warp-y and now here we are."
Lucius frowned, gazing at the landscape around them, "It is quite possible that Magnus did indeed unlock your power and you are simply unconscious due to the psychic backlash."
Michael stared at him, eyebrow raised.
"Or something else happened. I'm not all-knowing, nor am I a psyker."
Rolling his eyes, Michael tried to focus on bringing the temperature down a bit, as well as changing the scenery. He succeeded in the former, but the latter befuddled him. It almost felt as if something or someone was purposefully keeping the terrain as it was.
"You do have an… Interesting mind, Michael." Michael heard a voice say behind him. Spinning around, he found himself staring at none other than Magnus the Red, in his own mind!
"You! What are you doing in my head!?" Michael asked, panicking slightly.
Magnus chuckled, "You truly are one of a kind. I am inside your mind because that is all I can do with your current state. Now, I'm sure I could kill you if I were to put enough effort into it, but that would be breaking our contract." he explained.
Michael paused, his eyes narrowing at Magnus' words, "Contract?" he asked.
"Why, yes! I have made a contract with Jarod, in exchange for removing the lock Tzeentch had placed upon your soul, you would return my nobility. I will admit, I did force his hand somewhat, but I think it worked out well in the end." Magnus explained.
"And what about you marking my soul?" Michael said with a grimace.
At this, Magnus frowned, "Listen well, Michael, I could not mark your soul even if I wanted to. Your soul has similar properties to that of Jarod's own, as well as the corpse-Emperor's and my brother Guilliman. Your very nature rejects chaos, and to an extent, you are anathema to it. It actually takes quite a bit of concentration for me to speak with you like this, especially with Jarod guarding your soul like a dog." he said with a sneer.
He idly turned to face Lucius, "Of course, speaking of surprises, when did you manage to bind the soul of Lucius the Eternal to your own?" he asked.
Lucius laughed, and Michael groaned.
"For the record, if the sword had actually killed him instead of me having to deal with him trying to convert me to Slaanesh, I wouldn't mind at all. As it is, well, when he tried to take over my body and revive himself, I decided I liked living more than I did dying." Michael explained, "So I smacked him with a hammer."
Lucius laughed, "And thus, we have been sharing his mind-scape together for quite some time! Why I'm the one who trained him in the art of swordsmanship even. Now, if I could just get him to indulge in some of life's more carnal pleasures…"
"Not. Happening." Michael ground out.
"If the two of you will stop… bickering, I do have a few questions. First, Michael, how do you know so much about me, my father, and my rise to Chaos?" he asked.
Michael grimaced, "I don't think you want an answer to that." He warned.
"I am afraid you are not in any position to deny me right now, Michael. Now, how did you learn of such information?"
Michael sighed, "If I tell you, it will shatter your worldview. Are you prepared for that?" he asked.
"Please, I sincerely doubt that there is anything a mortal like yourself could do, a descendant of the Emperor or not," he remarked.
Michael took a deep breath, for all it mattered, before waving a hand in front of him. Between himself and Magnus, appeared a wooden table. The table itself was nothing special, but what was on it… well, that was something Magnus wasn't sure what to make of. Pieces of plastic terrain covered the table, and amidst that terrain, were two groups of plastic miniatures. One group, Magnus recognized as the Astartes of the blood angels, the other, was very clearly based on the Xenos known as the Tyranids.
He was about to ask more questions when the models began moving on their own. Clearly, by Michael's own control, they moved in combat against one another.
"This something I like to call Warhammer forty thousand." Michael stated, "It is a table-top wargame created by a company called Games Workshop, in the third millennium."
Magnus blinked and was about to laugh in Michael's face for coming up with such a ridiculous story when two more armies came onto the table. One was the Necrons, and the second was none other than his thousand sons. Magnus paused his accusations, looking at the table with gradually increasing interest.
"They created this universe as fiction, as an over-the-top, rule of cool universe meant to sell exorbitantly over-priced plastic miniatures to middle-aged men. Everything you see here is an approximation of what they created, and what to me, has become a reality."
Magnus stared at the battle that took place on the table. He watched as the Tyranids and thousand sons tore each other apart, how the blood angels and Necrons wiped out the stragglers, only to turn upon each other and wipe one another out. It was… hideous, and beautiful at the same time. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to make of it.
"And you say, that everything here, was a work of fiction? All our struggles, everything we have fought for, everything we have sacrificed?" He asked warily.
Michael shrugged, "I will put it this way. You can choose to ignore what I've said, and by all accounts, that doesn't change anything. But, how else can you explain what I know? Was I with the Emperor, watching him while he worked? Did he share his secrets with me and Jarod? And how do you explain what I know is coming? Abaddon's thirteenth black crusade, the fall of Cadia, your imprisonment within the warp, the resurrection of Guilliman, the return of the Silent King?"
"... Let us suppose you are telling the truth, and not lying. What does this mean? For me, for the Imperium, for the Ruinous Powers, for all those who do not know that their world is a work of fiction. What does this mean for them?"
"Then they continue to live their lives. Nothing is stopping them, and really, Games Workshop isn't one to mess with the inner workings of an Agri-world farmer, but truth be told, I can already say that the wheels of time have been thoroughly derailed." Michael explained.
Magnus grimaced, "If that is the case, then what do you plan to do?"
Michael chuckled, "Well, you and Lucius know my secret now. So what's stopping you from interrogating me further? Of course, you've also said you want your nobility back. You know where that is right? Sitting on Titan, inside the corpse of Janus, one of the founding members of the Grey Knights, and one of the only loyalist Thousand Sons.
"As far as what I plan to do now? Well, you and Jarod made a deal. I doubt Jarod's going to be doing much beyond working to get you your nobility back. He has a goal, and he's going to accomplish that goal. Far as I go…? Well, I'll probably be helping him."
[-]
Jarod grimaced as he watched over Michael's sleeping form. The second Magnus had waved his hand, Michael had exploded in a white light of psychic energy. Everything touched by chaos in the area burned. Even Magnus' physical form. It was not a pretty sight. After the initial shock had worn off, and Michael had been transported up to the ship, Jarod had gotten into a heated debate with the daemon.
He had… well, chastised, would probably be the right word, for activating Michael's powers before they were ready, and had caused quite a bit of panic. Magnus had responded with his explanation that, even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to mark Michael's soul. His soul was, just like Jarod, Anathema to chaos. He explained that he was currently having a psychic conversation with him, and it was quite difficult to do so whilst he felt like he was burning.
The traitor Astartes had turned to run, making their way to the limit of the psychic blast, then collapsing. In a way, it was very similar to the effect Jarod had caused on Raxis Prime, only on a much smaller scale.
That had all happened three hours ago.
Now, Jarod sat in the room where Michael slept, With Kiara napping beside him. They had only made a short warp jump away from the system, an hour flight at most, and were sitting in the vast void of space, far from any systems. He was in the process of warding their minds, suppressing their warp presence enough that they didn't have to worry about getting attacked by daemons.
Kiara would be fine without his efforts, of course, her spirit stone and training making it so that the creatures of the warp barely noticed her. Micahel, on the other hand, had received no training at all and looked like a shining lighthouse within th warp, attracting all sorts of creatures to him that tried - and failed, mind you - to possess him. Granted that wasn't just due to Jarod warding his mind, Michael's soul was similar to Jarods, if a bit dimmer. If he had to guess, where Jarod had an eighth of the emperor's power, Michael had something like a tenth.
Jarod mentally processed his family tree - and Michael's, to the best of his ability - to try and figure out just who the Emperor had been in their family line. Unfortunately, he knew next to nothing about Michael's extended family tree, and his knowledge of his own didn't reveal anything interesting. The Emperor appeared to be very good at covering his tracks if nothing else.
Jarod was brought out of his thoughts by Karev entering the room and clearing his throat in order to gain Jarod's attention.
"So, the meeting went… acceptably?" Karev asked.
Jarod grimaced, "Well, we got Michael's power unlocked, we just have to wait for him to wake up, and who knows how long that'll take. Still, it went far better than it could have."
Karev nodded, his eyes examining Michael, "What will you do now?"
Jarod paused, thinking the situation over. He had a goal, now, something to work towards. If he did things carefully, he might be able to play things out in his favor.
"I have an idea," Jarod said, "What does it take, to become an Inquisitor?" he asked.
Karev's eyes narrowed, "Quite a lot, I am afraid. I am almost fifty years old, and I have been in the employ of the Inquisition for as long as I can remember, and I have only become an Inquisitor in the last five years." he admitted.
Jarod ran a hand through his beard, "Well, I have a request of you," he stated, "I need a recommendation. A fast track, if you will, into the ranks of the Inquisition. You know my goal, I mean to destroy Chaos. I'm already a rogue trader; I have near unlimited power outside the Imperium, but that is not enough. I need to be able to work within the Imperium as well, and as much power as I have already, I don't think it will be enough."
Karev frowned, "You want to become an inquisitor quickly, I presume?" he asked, and Jarod nodded, "Then I may have something for you."
Karev pulled a data-slate out of his coat and began typing away, before pulling up a single document. He handed the device to Jarod, and when Jarod read it, he almost facepalmed.
The title of the document read: "Lord Inquisitor Quercus of the Ordo Xenos school for Inquisitors."
[-]
AN: FINALLY! An end to the mess that is the Magnus arc… ugh, I realized how badly it is this chapter, as I basically dropped all sense of secrecy in revealing Michael's origins to Magnus and Lucius. This won't have much effect in the short term, as Magnus doesn't believe Michael yet, but Michael and Lucius will be having further conversations soon.
I've come to dread the way I've written this arc, and honestly… if it weren't so entrenched into how I wanted to write the story from here on out, I might just scrap it entirely and start over, but I really would rather not rewrite 20k+ words at this point...
On a separate note, Jarod is now going to Literal Inquisitorial kindergarten. Fun!