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Among the hordes of pilgrims, the destitute wealthy and the countless petty workers of the Imperial bureaucratic machine marching about their daily routines, a lone figure stood.
In truth he was not alone, his voice constantly connected to that of hundreds of his gene-forged brothers at all times. But in comparison to the world around him, his uniqueness was evident, a teardrop of gold among a sea of dull greys. A statue standing rigid, cast in the same finery as the actual works of art sculpted for Terra's great cathedrals, yet ready to strike at any time should the situation call.
Augustine Seb had been alive for over 400 years. In those centuries, empires had burned. Cities had been sacked, whole planets put to the torch. Sectors slaughtered, wars won and lost. Yet Holy Terra stood the same, a wretched hive of scum and villainy encased in the blessings of it's dead god.
And the Custodes were the unsung masters of this world. By their mere word, billions could be slaughtered. The greatest individuals in the Imperium of Man, made null and void by their merest wish, for they and they alone possessed the will of Him on the Golden Throne to carry forth.
Rarely did they care for what happened in the great courtrooms and plazas of the capital world, the politics and backstabs and upheavals. They watched however.
Always watched, always heard. No rumor, problem or development caught them in the dark, not a single bit of information escaping their web of adamantium, gripped tightly around every corner of the hellish sphere that was Old Earth.
It was one thing to suffer the wrath of the Administatum, or the Ecclesiarchy, or the Inquisition, or even the mighty Space Marines. It was a whole other world of terror to face down the horrifically efficient, swift and cold rage of the Adeptus Custodes.
Yet, for that very reason, the situation outside the bowels of the Imperial Palace, away from the most dangerous threats to humanity located beneath it's very birthplace, rarely escalated to a point where the Custodes needed to take action. None were stupid enough to invoke their righteous fury, whether in a physical battleground or in that of the Senate houses.
So Augustine, like most his peers, stood mainly in silent vigil, watching a million faces pass him by each hour. Faces he could remember, but chose not to. Faces he knew would be gone like the ash in the winds of the acidic air before any time passed at all.
Sometimes, a fresh crowd of pilgrims, newly arrived on the world would congregate around him, placing presents near him, kneeling in prayer in the God-Emperor's name, basking in the glory of one of His sons and personal companions, for them mere living myths until that day.
He used to find such encounters awkward and downright unsettling, but that had been long ago. The only time he cared for such things anymore was when the pilgrims touched him. Of course, he understood why, but they too had to understand the boundaries they would obey when they stepped on the Emperor's very own home.
The highest authority guaranteeing the safety of the Master of Mankind were not to be bothered while doing their duty. So it was decreed, and Augustine was more merciful than most on those who overstepped their bounds. If a mortal were to bother him, their punishment was essentially akin to getting a light slap on the wrist.
Though being yelled at by the voice of a demigod magnified through vox-speakers and having a vicious weapon that could outright pulverize most beings in the galaxy pointed at you was usually more than enough. None would try it a second time.
Another day passed, another span of hours spent patrolling a roughly predetermined area.
The life of a Custodian Guardsman was hardly that of his equivalent in the Space Marines. While the Astartes were called liberally, over a million worlds requiring their protection and stretched so thin, they hardly found a dull moment.
Even in Terra's gruesomeness there was a certain monotony that developed after a while. Hundreds of crimes were committed right in front of him, some entirely without subtlety. But the crowds did not care, and neither did he. Why would the pettiest follies of mortals be important to him, a golden guardian, if it did not involve his duty? As for the crowd, it marched ever onward, a sea of flesh and sweat and different stenches, each more vile than the last.
Sometimes he was glad his helmet was sealed.
Yet in this most usual and lenient of days, something would break the monotony. Something that he, admittedly, had never been trained to handle.
At first he did not even notice them, being merely two other bumps in the crowd he would otherwise pay no heed to. They approached undetected by his conscious mind, for automatic processes alone were observing them as they did all humans within his field of vision.
Then, when they were within stepping distance of him and stopped, he finally noticed them. A couple, the woman carrying something in her hands. They could not be pilgrims, for they were not singing the Emperor's supposed word from the Lectitio Divinitatus, and their clothing was too impeccable, even stained by Terra's acid rain. Various symbols and jewelry adorned their frame, marking them out as important by comparison to most other petty officers that passed through the gates of the Outer Palace.
Before the Custodian could think more of the development and decide on whether asking them to leave was a good idea or not, the woman spoke.
"Custodian Augustine Seb, born Sebastian Bleck?"
The warrior paused. Then he nodded.
Sebastian Bleck. It had been many lifetimes since he had last heard that name. Spoken only a few times in briefings after his emergence from the labs of rebirth that forged all Custodes out of ordinary babes, only relevant for the duration of his mortal parents' lives, which he very rarely saw and even more rarely interacted with.
A Custodian had little connection to their previous life, their being wholly devoted to the Emperor. But for any family, it was an honor beyond any other to be selected to give tribute a child for them to become one of the Ten Thousand.
The Bleck family, he was told, was one of the most prestigious in the Western Hemisphere, holding sway over the massive hive spire, Novus Roma. They had given a number of their newborns to the Adeptus Custodes, and had existed in some measure or another for over a thousand years.
And yet, he did not bother to keep himself informed. It was simply not important to his job. Having his mortal name mentioned so casually was the closest he'd come to dumbstruck in a long time. It was only after digesting that, when he saw the woman, a beautiful redhead unsullied by the common filth around her, though with ashen skin like all the spawn of Terra who were not augmented, was crying.
"I am honored to meet you, ancestor."
So his suspicions had been proven correct.
The man wrapped his arm around her, attempting to diffuse her emotions with his warmth, though Augustine could clearly see that would not be achieved easily. However, the woman was smiling even through her tears. In a way, he could sympathize, even if he could never truly understand.
Having a blood of an immortal demigod, the spawn of the Emperor himself related to you, at least somewhat, was a surreal thing, if such light wording could ever be used. But simply because Augustine was sympathetic, did not mean he had any reason to indulge her beyond a basic request.
"Is there a reason for you being here, successor? I have a job to do if not. My eyes are those with which the Emperor observes."
Immediately, the voice of his vox seemed to snap her out of the trance her reveal had caused. She nodded, frantically and motioned to what she was carrying. A bundle of something wrapped in cloth.
It was a this point that the Custodian became aware of all who were stopped and staring. He banged the pole end of his spear to the ground, letting everyone know the attention was not appreciated, and the crowd quickly dispersed. None gathered back in it's place.
He motioned the couple closer as he kneeled to face them. The crimson red of his optics staring curiously at the cloth. The woman, once more, tearfully removed some of it, only to reveal a gentle sleeping face.
A babe was wrapped in the cloth, looking barely a year old. Augustine was a trained and born warrior, though he too could appreciate the innocence of such a defenseless and soft-looking lifeform. But only just.
He did not have to wait long for an explanation however. The man at this point took from the woman, who was clearly in no state to speak adequately.
"Our family has been much blessed before by the hand of the Emperor, and you being one of said blessed, ancient Augustine, we saw it fit to inform you that my sister and heir to family, Samantia, has bore a son which the Custodes have accepted as tribute. We were hoping to receive your own personal words in regards to him, as we have...all the others this day."
Again, the day surprised him. Augustine looked once more into the babe's sleeping face, it's smooth features, undeveloped and looking so weak. To think that if he survived the procedures to come he would be among the deadliest things in the galaxy one day was a humbling thing. All life had to come from somewhere.
Even the Emperor himself had had a genesis not too dissimilar, though he had been born into greatness rather than picked for it.
In the face of this profound moment, even his cold demeanor warmed somewhat, and he removed his helm. Dull coals stared back at the tiny people in front of him, and their tinier still child. A patrician's face lined with age and ashen hair that fell just below his ears stared intensely, almost judgmental, before loosening somewhat.
"I give my blessing, Samantia, to you and your child, if the Emperor judges him worthy of enduring the road ahead. Shall he succeed I will do my best to watch over him, and guide him to be a servant unmatched for the good of the Imperium."
His mighty, gauntleted fist hovered for just a moment over the baby.
"Let him be known henceforth as Hermes, his first name beyond his name, given and answered by me, so he may be swift of form, devious and cunning, and swifter still to message death to the enemies of the Imperium."
He lightly patted the child on the head, making sure not to hurt him, before withdrawing his hand and rising to his feet. The couple had a look of reverence on their face, as he put his helm on.
"Now go. I must return to my duties."
The couple lingered for a few seconds more, but they soon nodded and were gone. As he saw them march away in the sea of bodies, the tiniest of smiles played at his lips.
Author's notes: And here is...this thing.
Fun fact, I've actually considered writing this since the very beginning of Timeless Guardian, just never got around to it. But not it's here, and it's...OOF, the first story in literally a year. GAWD I AM LAZY.
Well sorry to that one reviewer who said he was expecting more soon, I guess, but well better late than ever. I hope you all enjoy this, for I have no idea when I'll make another chapter for this thing, so don't hold out too much.
Otherwise, reviews and faves are always appreciated. This is Dome of Bones signing out, again.