Corrin stared into Riktus' eyes with terrible hate. The tall man smiled. "The feeling is mutual!" He said with a dry laugh. Something in his face shone through, the screams of a thousand souls. Corrin could hold back no longer. He lunged forward. A heavy foot drove him to the ground several inches from the Controller's feet.
"No, no, let him play!" said Riktus in a mock whine. Corrin spat on his feet. Riktus laughed again. Corrin looked up at him. His build was not what one would imagine of such an aged man. He seemed fit and athletic. His arms and legs were muscular and his mood seemed joyful and hyperactive. That did not make Corrin warm to him. At the core, the man was a genocidal killer. His blonde hair dangled down in a long style that complemented his deep, black eyes. His lips were curled in the same way as his nose, giving a regal look. No matter his physic, Corrin could never like Riktus.
"Corrin, I've been waiting for this for some time. You know, a private," He stressed the word, "chat." He smiled as the thin man and the Astartes exited the building.
"That's right. Show you aren't afraid of me…" Corrin muttered. "Come a little closer…"
"Corrin, Corrin…You have so much to learn!" Riktus cackled. Corrin was getting sick of the psyker's terrible humor. "I did fear you, once. You were correct. I saw someone who could stand in my way; someone who could pose an immediate problem. And so, like any human would, I felt some fear for you; more resentment and hate, but yes, some fear." He walked to the end of the room and examined several bottles on a table.
"Don't bother standing." He said coolly as Corrin began to move. "You can't" He turned back to Corrin with an even brighter smile. "You see Corrin…" He paused and looked away, then nodded as if to himself. "Johnson, he called you Cor. Do you mind if I refer to you likewise?" Corrin did not need to show the degree at which he despised the man, Riktus understood.
"Good, I'm glad you agree! So you see Cor," Corrin winced, "I have you now!" He removed a needle from his long cloak. "Do you know what is in this?"
"Stuff it up your Arse!" Corrin bellowed.
"Ha, I do so enjoy Merican humor. It is the Devian Mortis, Corrin. Do you know…of course you do! This is what took your Johnson!" Riktus shook his head in remembrance. "Jonas, he was so cooperative. I offered him the world. He took it with open arms. He took me as a father," Riktus grinned. "I used him! Now he's dead. He was a tool. You are a tool. We are all tools in the Emperor's grand scheme.
"Tell me," Corrin asked, seething with anger, "This question has been on my mind since the battle of Capar. Who is your Emperor? In fact, answer that from the view of a faceless soldier, fighting for a man he's never seen and never heard. Yet, he fights for this man. Why, and don't give me a shit answer Riktus. Why?"
The psyker was thrown off guard by the sudden outburst. "I…what do you…?"
"Don't Frak with me…" Corrin muttered. "You wanted a personal conversation, I'm keeping this dead bird alive."
Riktus sighed. "It is impossible for a heretic such as yourself to comprehend the Emperor." He smiled again. "Now, this will work immediately. There will be no waiting. I have engineered this just for your Cor…"
Corrin's middle finger shot up. "I said no shit answers." He whispered spitefully. Riktus ignored him and stepped forward. Corrin did not resist. He half-smiled as the needle was driven into his back. There was a flash. He looked into Riktus terrified eyes.
"What? What's going on?" He cried. The room lit up. The door banged as someone tried to enter. Riktus thrashed around as Corrin slowly rose. Adrenaline coursed through his body. He dove on the crippled psyker and flung him to the ground. The door blew open as an Astartes threw it down.
A bolt sent him flying across the room. He landed and rolled to his feet, brushing away the pain in his rush of fury. To his own amazement, his punch saw one of the Astartes hurtling to the ground. He dropkicked the second and drove his foot into its face with astounding force. He wheeled around and prepared to take down the final attacker.
He froze. Johnson stood before him, bolter raised. He lowered his arms and bowed his head. He thought back to the Mechanicus craft. "Johnson…?" He heard Riktus slowly recovering inside the building, but he couldn't think. "It's Corrin, your friend. Remember, Johno…Johno…" He began to cry. Johnson's hand shook slightly.
"No!" Riktus called, "He is a non-believer. Don't kill him. Take him to the cells." There was a pause. "Now!" Johnson wrapped his arms under Corrin's and drove him forward. Corrin smiled in realization. Part of Johnson had just shown itself to him. There was a chance. There was a chance.