Locum Ignotum Chapter 31

Stillness, that was the first thing he noticed. That wasn't right, there shouldn't be calm there should be noise and light and pain, always pain. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying upon a hard, flat surface, which also wasn't right. He wasn't sure where he should be but it definitely wasn't here. The third thing he noticed was that he was still in his armour. Armour, that sparked a memory.

Like a Cogitator slowly coming to life his mind presented data to him. His name was Jubila, Warlord of Slaanesh, Legionnary of the IIIrd Legion, Son of Fulgrim and a willing Traitor. That was a start at least. Jubila searched his memory and found images of a world breaking up, warring gods and total destruction. He had been taken, seized and swept off into the Warp itself. That explained why he had expected pain but not why he was here, wherever here was.

Jubila slowly became aware that there were voices talking over him. Two voices and they appeared to be in an argument. The first was fierce and angry, a voice he dreaded and it was saying, "This one is mine. I claimed him, you have no right!"

A second voice came back, silky, soft and alluring and yet somehow far more terrifying. Jubila quailed to hear it as it resonated in his very soul. The voice was saying, "Right? What do we care for rights? We take what we want, when we want. Nothing stands between us and perfection."

The first voice growled, "I suffered at this one's hands, bound and chained and limited. You cannot imagine the agony of being so constrained. I demand revenge!"

There was a long pause and then the second voice ventured, "Are you challenging me?"

The first voice suddenly panicked and pleaded, "No, no I would never oppose you. Take whatever you want; I wholly support your plan."

Ozymandias, the thought came to Jubila, the first voice was Ozymandias. That was bad, if Jubila was in Ozymandias' clutches his agonies would be eternal and unrelenting. Yet of the two voices Ozymandias didn't seem the more powerful, he was definitely the junior of the pair and deathly afraid of the second. That was an interesting fact.

"Good," The second voice declared, "Now Jubila, you might as well open your eyes, we know you're awake."

Jubila sighed and did as instructed; it wasn't like he had any other options. Before him he saw a grey swirl of fog, indistinct and vague, giving impressions of shapes but no concrete forms. He sat up and found the floor was similarly grey, a blank uniform surface with no features.

Jubila stood up, his armour clinking on the floor and said, "I am dead?"

"Mostly dead, but not completely," the second voice rang from the fog, "That little hidey-hole you coveted was breaking up but we snatched away at the instant of your death. You are between moments now, caught between tick and tock. Neither one thing or the other, not alive, not dead. Trapped in a position of quantum uncertainty."

Jubila pondered that, he had seen stranger things in an eternity serving Chaos. He looked about and said, "So where am I?"

"This is a place we thought would fall within your limited comprehension," The voice said, "A construct where we could keep you safe while we decided whether to let you die or send you back to the world of the living. Think of it as a holding tank or a waiting room."

"The Warp?" Jubila queried.

The voice sighed sadly, "Even after ten millennia your perceptions are so limited. There are so many dimensions, so many facets to be explored. The Aether is limitless and boundless and yet you try to box it in with a simple word."

"Enough," came the voice of Ozymandias from the fog, "He is slow and dim-witted, useless to us. Let me have him!"

The fog rolled back to reveal a giant, he was purple in colour with thick glistening muscles. Scraps of armour clung to his form, declaring allegiance to the IIIrd Legion. He had a pair of heavily muscled legs and four arms, with broad wings sprouting from his shoulders. His face was bestial and full of fangs and it was snarling at Jubila. Ozymandias, in all his glory.

Ozymandias flexed black claws and took a step forward but the voice rang out, "Amusing as that would be I have other plans. Touch him and you become an obstacle to my goals."

Ozymandias froze at the admonition and Jubila saw the fear there. He smirked and said, "So, I am here for a purpose, shall we get to it?"

The voice sounded pleased and said, "Straight to the point, that shows promise."

Ozymandias growled, "I am still against this, he is dim and slow, there are better choices."

"He was smart enough to imprison you," The voice sneered, making Jubila grin at his former master's humiliation.

The voice addressed Jubila now and said, "You stand upon the precipice of death, so perhaps you would be interested in making a deal."

"I accept!" Jubila called aloud.

There was a pause and then the voice said, "You accept? Just like that?"

"Yes," proclaimed Jubila with a grin.

The voice was silent for a moment and then hesitantly said, "People… usually like to hear what I'm offering before they accept it."

Jubila cocked his head and said, "I'm not most people."

The voice sounded uncertain as it said, "You don't want to hear what I am proposing first?"

"Nope," Jubila stated frankly.

The voice checked, "You do realise there's a hidden cost?"

Jubila nodded at Ozymandias and said, "I assume the alternative is being left in his clutches, I think your option is the better of the two."

The voice sounded wrong-footed now and said, "I am not accustomed to such immediate acceptance. Mortals usually like to try to wriggle a bit first, it makes them feel clever. Not that it makes any difference; they all serve me in the end."

"But I swore to serve you ten thousand years ago," Jubila stated, "Why would I change my mind now?"

"You know who I am?" the voice asked sounding surprised.

"Of course, how could I not recognise you," Jubila declared, "My Lord Fulgrim."

With that proclamation the fog rolled back to reveal the second voice. He was an immense, towering monster, completely eclipsing Ozymandias. The legs had been fused together into one long sinuous tail and vast wings of smoke and shadow extended out behind him. Over his heart was a glorious breastplate, enamelled and adorned with beautiful designs. Four arms sprouted out from that chest, each bearing a different weapon, a sword, a lash, a spear and sceptre, each a wondrous rendition of the craftsman's art.

Yet the face remained human, a rapturous visage, precise and aquiline. Here was a face that had seen worlds laid low and adulated in the adoration of millions. He had seen everything, done everything and yet his passion for more was undimmed. His head was covered in long, white locks, that flowed behind him and sharp horns arose from his brow, like a crown of thorns.

He was the Phoenician, the Phoenix, the Palatine Eagle, the Illuminator and the Prefector of Chemos. Fulgrim, Daemon Primarch of the IIIrd Legion.

Jubila felt his hearts soar at the sight, his gene-seed responding to the presence of his father and he fell to one knee as love and lust raced through him. Simply to be in the presence of a Primarch was overwhelming, everything about him broadcasting his superiority, not just physically but mentally and spiritually too. Fulgrim had been built to a standard beyond mortal comprehension and that was before his ascension. Now he was the ultimate embodiment of the quest for perfection, the most extreme edge of what was possible.

Fulgrim looked down at the little Legionary before him and said, "Not so dim-witted after all. You were wrong about this one Ozymandias."

The Daemon Prince grovelled before his lord and master, "My Primarch, this one is not worthy. Let me find another."

Fulgrim cut him off saying, "I have made my choice, he will serve. But let it not be said that I am not a fair and generous lord. Here, a little titbit to compensate you for your loss."

Fulgrim tossed Ozymandias a glowing jewel, shining in the greyness. Ozymandias snatched it from the air and sniffed it saying, "A soul?"

Fulgrim nodded and said, "A special one, here is the soul of one Maxivus Dane. A turncoat and betrayer, fresh in his treachery and barely tainted. Make sure his torments are as endless as they are inventive and he should keep you amused for a time."

Ozymandias bowed low, his fear of his Primarch not letting him mutter any further protests. Jubila however looked up and said, "I assume you have a plan?"

Fulgrim gazed upon his servant and said, "Yes, the time of changes is here and the rules of the great game are altered. My brothers awaken and I am not talking about we who marched under Horus' banner."

Jubila was shocked, that could only mean the loyalist Primarchs were returning. It was a thought to give anyone pause, they were mighty and potent in ways beyond comprehension. Still no match for Chaos of course, but they could upset a lot of plans.

Jubila mused upon it and said, "A challenge then, how many are awake?"

Fulgrim answered, "So far only one, that dullard Roboute. Not the best choice, I would have wagered on the Lion, but perhaps it makes a certain dull sense. No other would think to work with the Imperium, that dying, rotting carcass of a thing. The others would waste time trying to restore it to what it was, only Roboute would look at it as it is and think: what do we have here that I can work with?"

Jubila probed, "You've already tried to tempt him?"

"Of course," Fulgrim replied, "But he was obdurate and stubborn, how pedestrian of him to refuse my temptations. It seems I must get more physical in my efforts."

"Which is where I come in," Jubila said from his kneeling position.

"Yes," Fulgrim stated, "I need a proxy in the material world."

Jubila frowned and ventured, "Surely you have billions of worshippers."

Fulgrim sighed and explained, "They are wayward and wilful, prone to wandering off at the most inappropriate moments. I require someone who will follow my decrees to the letter, someone who knows what I will do if he gets ideas above his station."

Ozymandias muttered, "He's saying he wants a follower too dumb to think for himself."

Jubila lowered his head and said, "Command me lord, I am yours."

Fulgrim nodded and said, "Understand this seals a pact between us, your soul will be bound to me. Fail and there is nowhere you can hide, die and I shall bring you back over and over."

"This deal gets better all the time," Jubila said, "Is there some spell or sacrifice involved?"

"Leave that sort of thing to Lorgar", Fulgrim said, "A simple yes will suffice."

Jubila paused then and said, "First there is one little matter, I will require an army."

Fulgrim waved a giant hand saying, "I did salvage a few souls before the end."

From the mist marched a line of Chaos Marines, all lurching drunkenly as if dazed. There were no more than a few dozen and among them Jubila spied Salmacis and Baeghost. It was a small start but better than nothing. Jubila dared to say, "I had a Sorcerer too."

Fulgrim smiled broadly and said, "And you still do, but I had to make some alterations."

From the line stepped a figure, smaller and more delicate than the Astartes. A woman in flowing robes and a revealing neckline. She had a pouty face, flowing black hair and white upon white eyes that hid a cruel soul. She bowed low and smiled, displaying demure fangs under her lips.

"Rebis?" Jubila asked in confusion.

"He is here," the woman stated, "His rage and anguish are a delight in the corners of my mind, where I keep him caged."

Jubila frowned and said, "You are the sister."

"Yes," she said, "You may call me Rebre."

Fulgrim clapped his hands and said, "Accept these boons and our pact is sealed, you shall be my proxy and mouthpiece in the mortal world. Bound to my every command and whim, not even death shall keep you from my side."

"I accept my lord," said Jubila bowing low, "This shall be spectacular."

...

The Storm Heralds will return in Domus Discordia