Hello everyone. I am IX404 and welcome to the redux of my Mass Effect/Warhammer crossover.
First of all, I want to thank all of you for your wonderful patience and support. I deeply appreciate it.
Now, as you've noticed, I'm posting redux's for my crossovers. Part of the reason is that I'm actively reading any literature I can to make my stories better. The other is that I'm also having my beta-readers suggest to me ways to improve my writing. As such, I'll be posting redux's as I work to improve my writing to where it is like you're reading a novel by master novelists like Michael A. Stackpole or Alan Dean Foster.
As for this crossover, I feel that my first one, while quite good in its own right, wasn't as good as I felt it could be. As such, I've decided to create a redux of my older Warhammer/Mass Effect crossover, this time from the viewpoint of someone more ordinary, or as ordinary as one can get in the Warhammer 40,000 universe. I sincerely hope that all of you enjoy a crossover written from the viewpoint of the average lowly Guardsman.
In addition, I am also working with an artist on DeviantArt that has allowed me to use his original Imperial World for the backstory of my character. I do not own his Imperial World, nor do I own any of his art. I will soon be posting a link to his channel on DeviantArt so that you may see some of his well made and highly detailed work.
As always, leave a review, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mass Effect or Warhammer franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of BioWare, Electronic Arts, Games Workshop, etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists.
Segmentum Ultima
Cordalis City, Cordalis IV
015.016.M42
"...Tchaikovsky…you all right… Tchaikovsky?" a voice asked.
I… what? Tchaikovsky thought. It was taking longer than usual for him to comprehend what he was hearing. He felt cold, and a buzzing/ringing sound was droning in his ears.
The ringing/buzzing began to subside, and as it did, sound and sight began to return. The voice spoke again. "Sergeant Ivan Tchaikovsky? Are you all right? Ivan?" When he didn't respond, the voice said, "Hang on. I will use my powers to fix what's wrong. Emperor guide my hand."
There was silence, then it felt like someone had given him several combat-stims all at once. The buzzing/ringing sound in his ears faded into nonexistence and sight returned. Everything appeared uncomfortably bright, then the world returned to it's normal brightness.
It was his ears that told him what was going on. The sound of lasguns and autoguns sliced through the air. The sound of plasma guns being fired added a strange whining crack that assailed his ears. His sight showed him the sky, as well as the face of a man with dark blue eyes and dark brown hair. He had a well trimmed beard that was currently caked with blood and mud. Ivan's mind immediately recognized the man as Mortellus, a member of the Emperor's most holy Inquisition.
Seeing Ivan's eyes snapping open, Mortellus said, "Sergeant Ivan Tchaikovsky, can you hear me now? Are you all right?"
Ivan grunted, then began to get up. Pain rocketed through his body from the simple act alone. Gritting his teeth, Ivan held back a scream, and let out a pained hiss instead. "I… I hear you, sir," he grunted. "Emperor damnit! I'm hurt all over! What happened to me?"
"You just survived a mortar bombardment," Mortellus said with wry amusement. "You got thrown a good four meters from your original position. The fact that you survived, and that you responded well to my powers, clearly means that the God-Emperor is watching over you, Guardsman."
Hearing that, Ivan immediately began searching for his weapons. Panic rose in his chest when he realized one was missing, only for it to fade when Mortellus handed him his gear. Grabbing his lasgun, Ivan checked them over for any damage. Seeing no damage to them, he sighed with relief. "Thank you, Inquisitor," he said.
Mortellus nodded. "It is fortunate that you survived, Guardsman. We are now beginning our assault on the damned heretics further ahead, and I still have need of you. Understood?"
The mere mention of heretics was enough to stoke a fire of hate and contempt inside of Ivan's mind. Checking the power pack in his lasgun, he smiled grimly when it showed a full charge. "Understood, Inquisitor," he said.
Mortellus smiled coldly. "Good. Onwards, Guardsman. Time to deliver the Emperor's Judgment to these abominable heretics!" Picking a staff up off the ground, he shouted, "ON TO WAR!"
The pain in Ivan's body faded at those words. Getting to his feet, he quickly surveyed his surroundings. They were currently within the borders of this world's capitol, Cordalis City. All around, he could see towering buildings that resembled cathedrals, wide streets paved in rockcrete and all manner of vehicles resting in the streets.
There was little time to enjoy the sights. All around, Tchaikovsky could see members of the Imperial Guard locked in combat with the cultists that had infested and overtaken this world. Spotting a pair of cultists, he snapped his lasgun to his shoulder, took aim, and fired. Two lasbeams shot out of the emitter muzzle of his rifle; two cultists died, their bodies exploding as they tumbled to the ground.
Bullets whizzed past his head, forcing him to take cover. Four more Guardsmen ran over and did the same. Checking their armor, Ivan realized that they were also part of Mortellus' retinue. "Sir, what are your orders?" a Guardsman asked.
Peering over the cover, Ivan assessed the situation ahead. Near a four way intersection, the cultists were manning a Heavy Stubber that was laying down covering fire for their comrades in arms. Large caliber bullets were whizzing through the air, hitting anything that even so much as moved. One Guardsman attempted to advance, only for his head to explode in a shower of blood and gore. His lifeless corpse fell to the ground, blood spraying from arteries and onto the ground.
Ivan was about to give his orders when the the cultists manning the Heavy Stubber gripped their heads, almost as though they'd suffered a blow. Then, in a shower of blood and a flash of blue lightning, their heads exploded; their lifeless, headless corpses fell to the ground. A slight sigh drew Ivan's attention to the source of the dead cultists. Behind another block of rockcrete, Mortellus held a pair of fingers to his forehead. His eyes were glowing an electric blue color, while blue fire seemed to radiate from the top of his staff and hands. The glow from his eyes faded, and he stood up. "The Heavy Stubber is neutralized," he said. "Onwards, Guardsmen. Our objective is near."
Ivan and the others stood up. "Regroup!" Ivan shouted. "Follow the Inquisitor! You two, cover our rear!" The Guardsmen obeyed, though some showed more hesitance than usual.
Ivan shrugged. He could understand why some Guardsmen were nervous around Inquisitors, and a Psyker at that. So long as he is a loyal servant of the God-Emperor, then he is fine with me, he thought. Dispelling the thoughts, he continued to follow Mortellus.
The deeper they moved into the city, the heavier the resistance from the cultists became. Stopping near the corner of a street, Ivan leaned around the corner. He jumped back as soon as the bricks near his face exploded, scattering dust and debris onto the ground and into his face. Wiping his face, he said, "Another Heavy Stubber around the corner. Give me a flash grenade."
A guardsman handed him one such grenade. Activating it, Ivan threw it around the corner. Shouts and cries erupted, then a loud BANG filled the air just as a bright flash of light filled the street. Snapping around the corner, Ivan and the other Guardsmen opened fire, pelting the cultists with lasbeams. One such lasbeam tore into the Heavy Stubber itself, destroying it, while others terminated the cultists.
Satisfied, Ivan keyed his vox-bead. "Inquisitor, where to now?" he asked.
Continue along the street, came the Inquisitor's voice inside his mind. I have spotted our objective and the rest of the Imperial Guard regiment that have agreed to work with me will be arriving soon. Do not tarry, Ivan.
Understood, Ivan thought. Turning to the others, he said, "Keep moving. The rest of the Guard will handle any more trouble that is in this city." Nodding, the other Guardsmen began moving forwards with him.
Ivan was about to round a corner when a hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into the nearby building. Reacting instinctively, he whipped his combat knife out, only for an invisible vice to stop him. "Careful, Guardsman," Mortellus whispered. "I commend your preparedness, but examine your target before you attack."
"My apologies, sir," Ivan said.
"No need to apologize, Guardsman. You were doing exactly as you were trained to do. Now, silence, and come with me. I have found our objective, and it is most unpleasant." Following Mortellus, Ivan slipped into the building with the rest of the Guardsmen.
"What about the rest of the Imperial Guard?" Ivan asked.
"They are handling their duty. We must do ours. Should we succeed, the Imperial Guard will not be pushed out of the city. If not, then it is going to become a much harder fight. Hush now." Nodding, Ivan continued to follow the Inquisitor through the building.
From what Ivan could tell, the cultists had set up their main base of operations inside one of the largest buildings in the city. According to the locals, it was a massive warehouse known simply as the 'Depository.' Here, offworld supplies would be distributed to other warehouses across the planet to feed and assist the population. The entire building was massive, so much so, that it could fit dozens of hab-blocks inside of it and have room to spare.
It was in the Depository that they found what they had been hunting for. Exiting onto one of the catwalks, the team gazed down into the massive open chamber itself. Gone were the massive cargo containers and the equipment needed to move them. Replacing them was a large open area that had a massive construction in the center. It resembled a circle with eight points coming off of it, each one a random size and shape. The center of it held what looked like a blood red fluid that roiled and swelled in a parody of an ocean.
It was also where the cultists had set up their base of operations. All around were tables, desks, and chairs that some cultists were sitting in, while others were at grotesque altars making sacrifices to their dark gods. The cultists themselves were a mixture of mutants and normal people, with the mutants having horns, tentacles and other unsightly things growing off their bodies. In cages near the back were civilians that were huddled against the far wall, each one staring at the cultists guarding their cages in fear.
The hate and contempt inside of Ivan's mind rose to even greater heights. Chaos, he snarled internally. Ivan hated all enemies of the Imperium of Man, but the Ruinous Powers of Chaos were the enemy that he hated the most. His hands tightened subconsciously onto his lasgun, while the others looked at each other uncertainly. "Be ready," he whispered to the others. Moving closer to Mortellus, he asked, "What now, Inquisitor?"
"Patience," Mortellus said. "We will not attack if we do not have a plan. Tell me, Ivan. What do you believe would be the best plan of attack?"
It was a rhetorical question, but one that Ivan knew he had to answer. Looking at the arrangement of the entire room, he could see that the main gate was being held up by three more structures that feeded that same blood red energy into the gate. The cultists, in their insanity and stupidity, had left those pylons unguarded. "I know what to do," he said….
Down on the ground, the cultists began to make preparations for what they were going to do next. "Just a couple more sacrifices, and we will soon be able to summon an army from the Blood God," one of them, a mutant with horns growing from his head, snickered. "He will reward us greatly for the blood we are giving to him."
"Aye," another said. "Though we might just start out with one, lest the Imperial Guard sense what is happening."
"They already have," a third said. "Might as well summon the whole damn army now. Why wait for the puppets of the Corpse-Emperor to -"
Before he could finish, explosions rang out as Frag and Krak grenades flew through the air, blasting apart some of the Warp Gate's pylons, and killing some cultists. "FOR THE GOD-EMPEROR!" a voice roared as dozens of Inquisitorial Guardsmen rappelled down thick, sturdy ropes while others provided covering fire from above. Soon, battle was joined.
Lunging forwards, Ivan impaled a cultist with the bayonet on his lasgun. With a twist, he destroyed the cultist's heart, sending the crazed madman to an early grave. A sword whistled through the air, only to bounce ineffectually off of his carapace armored shoulder. Whirling around, he drew his laspistol and fired a couple shots, blowing the brains of that cultist all over the ground.
A crackle of lightning drew his attention towards the Warp Gate. Mortellus was engaged in battle with a particularly large and strong cultist that wielded a wickedly shaped blade. The cultist, roaring with insane laughter, brought the sword down, only for Mortellus to redirect the blow into the ground with his Force Sword. "HAH!" the cultist roared. "You may be a sorcerer, but you are an excellent swordsman! The Blood God will surely appreciate adding your skull to his throne!"
"Your 'Blood God' won't be getting any blood today!" Mortellus said defiantly. "Not while men like me draw breath!" Using his staff, he unleashed a storm of lightning bolts that impacted the cultist. A scream of agony erupted from the Khornate Berserker, before he promptly exploded into gory chunks. "Disgusting," Mortellus grumbled, flicking some gore off his robes.
Another roar drew his attention towards a cultist charging at him. Mortellus prepared his powers, only for the cultist to stop dead in his tracks. Coughing up blood and spittle, he fell to the ground, a knife in his back. Behind the cultist, Ivan reached down and pulled the blade out. "How ironic," he said. "A cultist of Khorne being stabbed in the back by a loyal servant of the God-Emperor. A fitting end for a traitor and a fool."
Mortellus nodded, then they heard a coughing laugh from the cultist. "You… fools," the cultist gagged, an insane smile on his mutated features. "Khorne cares not from where the blood flows, only that it does." With a cough, the cultist died.
"Throne of Terra," Mortellus whispered. "They were counting on us to do this sort of thing. We unwittingly fed their ritual! The amount of combat here means that a Daemon is going to be summoned! We'll be dealing with a Skulltaker, or I am a fool."
Ivan frowned. "I've fought one before. They are not easy foes to slay. What would you have us do, Inquisitor?"
Mortellus looked at their surroundings. "There are some cargo containers still left over, and the tables appear to be well made. Set up makeshift barricades and use anything you can find as cover. Those support beams for the catwaks appear to be well made, so they might do. Beyond that, trust in range and speed to give you the edge you need. Daemons of Khorne generally eschew ranged weaponry for bludgeons and swords."
"Understood," Ivan said. Glancing at the others, he said, "You heard the Inquisitor! Get into any cover you can find! If you can, set up heavy weapons! MOVE!"
While Ivan wasn't as high ranking as some of the guardsmen in the Inquisitor's retinue, they had heard some of the tales of his experiences. Rather than argue with him, they simply obeyed, with each and every one taking cover behind anything they could find. A pair of men hefting a Heavy Bolter quickly started setting up, while others took cover as far back as they could and took aim. Most began making silent prayers to the God-Emperor, while others, confident in their abilities, simply began to wait.
Getting into cover behind a metal box, Ivan began to wait. Blessed Emperor, grant me the contempt and strength of mind to resist this foul foe, he whispered. Confident that the God-Emperor had heard him, Ivan set up his squad and prepared.
He wouldn't have to wait long.
In a parody of an ocean swell, the blood red not-liquid within the Warp Gate bulged outwards, then inwards. With a disgusting gurgle, several beings came out of the Warp Gate. Most of them looked identical, with skin the color of blood, horns on their heads, digitigrade legs and jaundiced eyes that held nothing but bloodlust and insanity. They each bore wicked looking blades that dripped with blood. The leader of the group, though, was dressed in ornate robes that too were stained with blood. It looked like the rest, but was much larger, and had a bag of skulls hanging from a hidden belt. It too bore a similarly large blade, though it had many more horns and two pairs of eyes.
Upon seeing the fiends, Ivan's contempt and hate reached new levels. Part of him wanted to rush out there and begin slaying the monstrosities in the God-Emperor's name. Patience, a part of his mind told him. Rush out there, and you will die. You are the hunter and they are the prey. Wait, and be ready. Rolling his neck, Ivan placed his lasgun onto the highest charge setting and waited.
Mortellus, though, had few reservations. Standing unafraid, he advanced towards the Neverborn, Force Sword and Staff in hand. Seeing him, the Skulltaker laughed and said, "Well, well, well. What have we here?" It sniffed at the air, then sneered. "An Inquisitor, and a sorcerer at that? Hmmph. How banal and pathetic. It matters little, though. Khorne shall have the blood he desires today, and you, pathetic servant of the Anathema, shall not stop us from slaughtering all on this world."
If it had hoped to intimidate Mortellus, the Skulltaker was very wrong. "You will not be getting any more blood today, fiend!" he growled, "and your 'Blood God' will not be having anymore blood today! In fact, your going to find yourself becoming quite dead of thirst soon!"
The Skulltaker and the Bloodletters accompanying it, broke out into a chorus of psychotic laughter. "A human with a sense of humor?" it remarked. "How fascinating. I shall take great glee in cutting you down and hearing your screams of terror."
"I'm afraid not!" Mortellus countered. While he spoke, he made a slight gesture with his hand. "You will be the one dying today, by my hand! FOR THE GOD-EMPEROR!"
Immediately, the Guardsmen popped out of cover and opened fire with their weapons. Four Bloodletters were banished back to the Warp before they could even so much as move. The rest immediately began to move, while the Skulltaker used its bag of skulls as a shield. Two more Bloodletters were gunned down by the Heavy Bolter crew, who began firing their weapon frantically.
The Skulltaker roared in rage. "Arrogant servants of the Anathema!" it roared. Pointing its sword forwards, it roared, "Kill all that reside on this planet! Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!" The other Bloodletters roared, then charged forwards at the Guardsmen in a berserk rage.
Near the back of the place, Ivan popped out of cover and fired at a Bloodletter charging at the Heavy Bolter crew, blasting its head off and banishing it back to the Warp. Looking towards the entrance, he cursed loudly. For every Daemon of Khorne that they killed, five more erupted from the Warp Gate. "Concentrate fire on the Warp Gate!" he shouted towards the Heavy Bolter crew. "Suppress them!"
"ON IT!" one of the gunners shouted. Turning the weapon, they pressed the firing stud. The Heavy Bolter belched out a storm of 1.00 caliber bolts, splattering any Bloodletters that tried to leave the Warp Gate. Redirecting his own fire, Ivan began firing at any other Bloodletters.
For all of their efforts, the Heavy Bolter crew weren't able to stop all of the Daemons of Khorne leaking through the Warp Gate. One Guardsman screamed as a Bloodletter whacked his arm off in one blow, before grabbing him by the throat and smashing him into a crate, killing the man instantly. Two more Guardsmen, angered by this, rushed forwards and stabbed the Warp-Spawn with their bayonets. "FOR THE GOD-EMPEROR!" one roared as he detonated a grenade when the Bloodletter grabbed him, annihilating both individuals in a single detonation.
Bloodletters weren't the only ones they had to worry about. Glancing at the Warp Gate, Ivan watched as several massive hounds ran out of the portal and into the room. "MORTELLUS, LOOK OUT!" Ivan shouted, firing his Lasgun at the Flesh Hounds that had breached the gate's entrance.
Mortellus, hearing Ivan's warning, whirled around, Force Staff in one hand and Force Sword in the other. Charging up both weapons, he waded into the horde of Flesh Hounds that charged at him, each one roaring as they did. With the skill and fluidity of a dancer, Mortellus cut down each one. Howls of agony and rage came from the Flesh Hounds as he cut each of them apart quickly and precisely. One charged, only for a lasbeam from Ivan to pierce through its eye and blast its head apart.
"A fine shot!" one of Ivan's squadmates shouted.
"Focus on the enemy!" Ivan roared. Swapping out a power pack, he continued to fire at the Chaos entities swarming from the gate.
As the battle wore on, Ivan began to realize that they would soon be overrun. There's too many! he thought. Throne damnit! There has to be a way. Hearing a roar, he threw his knife instinctively, burying the blade in the skull of a Bloodletter that had charged at him.
Then, in his desperation, a plan formed. Looking at the last remaining Warp Pylon, and then at the Warp Gate, he realized what he had to do. "Cover me!" he shouted at the Heavy Bolter crew. Looking at his squad, he shouted, "Any Krak Grenades left?!"
A Guardsman tossed one such grenade at him. Catching it, Ivan began to run pell-mell towards the last remaining Warp Pylon. The Skulltaker, spotting him, roared, "STOP HIM!" Several Flesh Hounds charged, drawing the fire of the Heavy Bolter crew. Several fell down, while Ivan fired his Laspistol at the others charging at him.
While he managed to get one, the other intercepted him. It was like being tackled by a freight train. Both Guardsman and Flesh Hound fell to the ground, with the Flesh Hound lunging forwards, teeth flashing. Grabbing a metal bar that a cultist had used for a weapon, Ivan held it up just in time to intercept the Flesh Hound's mouth. It snapped at the air, teeth scraping along the bar inches away from Ivan's face.
Raising one of his boots, Ivan kicked at the creature ineffectually. He was about to make his peace with the Emperor when a bolt tore through the collar the creature wore, shattering it like glass and knocking the Flesh Hound off of Ivan. Getting up, Ivan began to run, just as he heard a loud thunderclap and a loud howl. Priming the Krak Grenade, he hurled it at the Warp Pylon.
There was a BOOM as the grenade detonated, with the Warp Pylon shattering like glass. It immediately seemed to have an effect. Several Bloodletters and Flesh Hounds howled in impotent rage as they evaporated into nothingness. The Skulltaker stumbled, almost as though someone had punched it in the liver. Mortellus, spotting what Ivan had done, formed a psychic shield around himself, then he began to chant.
The Skulltaker's eyes, upon hearing the chant, went wide with anger. "KILL THAT SORCERER!" it roared. Several Bloodletters charged, only for lasbeams and bolts to intercept them. Charging towards Mortellus, Ivan took up position next to him, lasbeams firing rapidly from his Fedorov.
As Mortellus chanted, Ivan turned and killed another Bloodletter when pain erupted throughout his body. A scream escaped his lips as a blade erupted from his right shoulder. The Skulltaker, laughing maniacally, lifted him into the air. "A fine specimen," it laughed. "Bow to the Blood God, and I will make your end quick and painless!"
"NEVER!" Ivan roared.
Snarling in anger, the Skulltaker reached for another blade when a thunderbolt smacked into it, forcing it to drop Ivan and it's main sword. A strained cry of agony escaped Ivan's throat as he blade dug deeper into his arm. Tearing it out, he watched as his own blood dripped onto the ground. Looking up, he watched as Mortellus battled the Skulltaker, who had now shrunken in size due to the Warp Gate weakening. As they fought, Mortellus' weapons were knocked out of his weapons, with the Skultaker kicking the Inquisitor to the ground. "Time to die, puppet of the Anathema!" it snarled.
The hate and contempt in Ivan's mind reached a fever pitch at those words. KILL THE ABOMINATION! a voice roared in his head. He immediately obeyed it. Picking up his lasgun, Ivan fixed his bayonet to it, then charged forwards, ignoring the fiery pain in his arm. The Skulltaker, looking up, was unable to react in time to stop Ivan's charge. The bayonet sunk into its chest with a shhnnkk, burying itself up to the muzzle of Ivan's lasgun.
Mortellus, realizing what Ivan intended to do, shouted, "IVAN, NO!"
Ivan didn't hear him. "FOR THE GOD-EMPEROR!" he roared, pushing with all of his might towards the Warp Gate.
No matter how much the Skulltaker struggled, it was unable to push Ivan back in its weakened state. "NOOOOOOOOOO!" it howled as it and Ivan passed through the portal, disappearing from the known universe.
With a sound like shattering glass, the Warp Gate fell apart. The archway it formed crumbled like dust and fell to the ground. The center promptly exploded as the physical laws of the Materium reasserted themselves with an Adamantium fist. Mortellus had barely enough time to erect a shield to protect himself, then the shockwave hit with the force of a hundred thousand Thunder Hammers. Anyone not in cover was promptly incinerated by the force of the detonation; anything not bolted down was sent flying through the air like Krak Missiles.
When the cacophony of sound and light faded, Mortellus lowered the psychic barrier he had conjured for himself. Feeling movement, he looked to see the crew for the Heavy Bolters hanging onto him for dear life. Tapping them, he said, "It's over now. You can let go." For a moment, they didn't comply, then they slowly and shakily loosed their grip on him.
One of them looked around in disbelief. "By the Emperor!" he gasped. "It's gone! It's all gone!"
Looking around, Mortellus immediately saw the reason for the Guardsman's shock. The entire warehouse had been utterly flattened. The cargo containers, make shift cover, even the walls and roof of the place had been utterly annihilated. Only the rockcrete foundation was left, and even then, there was a crater in it as deep as a man was tall. The ground was blackened from the heat of the blast. Seeing lighter spots in certain areas, Mortellus realized that where those spots were, people had been.
There was something else, though, that weighed on his mind. Ivan, he thought. He's gone. We are the only survivors. Gathering his thoughts, he keyed his vox-bead and said, "Captain Winter? Are you there?"
"Yes, Inquisitor," Captain Winter said. "What happened, my lord? We deteected a tremendous surge in Warp energy down there."
"We found a Warp Gate that the Cultists were using to summon an army of Daemons," Mortellus said. "We managed to stop them, at the cost of most of my retinue." He paused. "Sergeant Ivan Tchaikovsky was the man that destroyed it, at the cost to his life."
"I see…" Winter said. "I'm sorry for your loss, Inquisitor. Ivan was one of your best men. He will be deeply missed."
"He will be missed," Mortellus agreed. "He was the best member of my retinue. May the God-Emperor guide his soul into His Rest." He paused again. "Can you send in a Valkyrie? We need extraction."
"Of course, my lord," Winter said.
. . .
Unbeknownst to Mortellus, Ivan was not dead. Tumbling through the Warp Gate, both he and the Skulltaker fell/flew through the Warp. Millions of colors, both possible and impossible, exploded before Ivan's eyes. His ears were abruptly assailed by uncountable voices that screeched/whispered in a cacophony of insanity. Some offered him promises of unlimited power while others jeered and mocked him, threatening him with destruction.
Any normal man would've immediately gone insane from the sights and sounds of the Warp. Ivan, on the other hand, tuned them out, and focused solely on the Skulltaker he was working to kill. "May the Emperor judge you in the fires of His wrath!" he roared, before severing the Skulltaker's head from its skull. It's body promptly disintegrated, while the Daemon joined the countless others of its kind that both tempted and threatened him.
With the Skulltaker dead, Ivan closed his eyes. This is it, he thought. I will never be able to escape, but at least I can die, knowing that I remained loyal to the God-Emperor. He could already hear the Daemons coming towards him, eager to tear him apart or to drive him into insanity. He waited for the moment to come.
The moment never came.
Rather than hearing them beginning to tear him apart, Ivan heard the voices of the Neverborn being silenced in an instant, while he seemed to gently land on something hard and unyielding. The change was so sudden that he jumped, eyes snapping open immediately. To his shock, the Daemons were now separated from him by a translucent gold barrier. Each of the Daemons howled in rage and attacked the barrier impotently. Then Ivan noticed it: they were afraid as well.
Sitting up, he cried out in agony as the wounds inflicted upon him during the battle reminded him of their existence. Falling onto his back, he forced himself to slowly get up. His entire body throbbed in agony, but the wound on his shoulder seemed to be on fire. He rose partway, then collapsed, his mind willing but his body unable to obey. "God-Emperor… help me…" he gasped.
Suddenly, the pain that afflicted his entire body seemed to melt away, replaced with a cool, soothing sensation. Gasping, Ivan felt the pain from his wounds fade, even the one where his shoulder was. Getting up, he checked himself over. To his amazement, all of his wounds had vanished, his armor had been mended and his weapons repaired and restored to mint condition. Even his clothes had been mended, and he felt remarkably refreshed.
Before he could dwell on those thoughts, Ivan heard a firm, but gentle voice speak. "Ivan Tchaikovsky. Son of Vladimir and Anastasia Tchaikovsky. Scion of the Tchaikovksy Dynasty. Hero of Kray Miran Labor, Breaker of Fate, Bane of the Dhrukhari and Guardian of Atmora Prime. I have need to speak with you."
Ivan whirled around to confront the source of the voice… and stopped dead in his tracks. Before him was the most enormous human being that he had ever seen. The man was huge, nearly three times as tall as he was, and he was clad in gold armor that shone in the Warp. Instead of an aura of madness, Ivan felt an aura of order and logic radiating from the man. The man's hair was black and his eyes were a kind brown. His facial features seemed to have been shaped by a master sculptor, and on his head, he wore a gold wreath.
While most would've wondered who the man was, Ivan knew immediately. He had seen far too many depictions of the man in portraits, art and other forms of art not to. Then a nasty suspicion entered his mind. What if this is some deception? he thought. He chanted the Mantra of Truth in his mind in an attempt to banish any illusions he was seeing. When he blinked, the sight before him did not change.
The man smiled. "Peace, Ivan Tchaikovsky. You need not worry if what you are seeing is an illusion. Were it an illusion, the Mantra you chanted in your mind would have revealed any deception by now."
Hearing that, Ivan realized that what he was seeing was the real thing. Terror gripped at him, even as he bowed before the being. "God-Emperor," he said. "Forgive me for doubting the sight before me. I was not sure…" He fell silent, unable to speak to the very being he worshiped as a god.
"Arise, Ivan," the God-Emperor said. "I have much need to speak with you. I have a limited amount of time to convey a great amount of information to you. Walk with me." Obeying, Ivan began to follow the Emperor of Mankind. As he did, the Daemons beating against the golden barrier vanished, as though they had never existed. "You are but one of a handful of humans that will be sent on a journey of great importance."
"I do not mean to doubt you, my Emperor, but why me?" Ivan asked. "I'm but a simple Guardsman. How can I be worthy of an honor like this?" He winced, fully prepared to be chided for his questions.
The Emperor merely smiled at him. "Such questions are understandable for one of your station," he said. "As such, I will answer your questions with one answer: the Imperium and the Galaxy are dying."
Ivan jolted at the answer. "D-dying?" he gasped. "How? It seems that we are doing just fine… unless there's something I've missed."
"That you have, but by no fault of your own. It is easy to assume that all is well when you do not have a comprehensive view of what is happening." Turning to Ivan, the Emperor placed a hand on Ivan's head. "Steel yourself, for what you will see would break lesser men."
Ivan gasped and cried out as memories flew into his mind.. Tears streamed down his face as he saw the sheer horror of the purgation of the Thunder Warriors, the Horus Heresy, the failure of the Webway, and all the crimes of the Imperium of Man. Then, as suddenly as they started, the memories stopped. Ivan collapsed onto the ground face down, even as the memories he was shown were locked away. He felt wrong, violated even.
Slowly, he brought himself to his feet. "What was that?!" he gasped.
"That was but a taste of the memories that I will show to my counterpart in the past," the Emperor of Mankind said. "Were you to experience it all, your mind would be irreparably destroyed. You have seen enough to know why you must complete the mission that you will be given."
Ivan grunted, then shook his head and refocused. Drying his face, he asked, "What must I do?"
The Emperor brought him before an empty void. "Throughout the ten millennia since my entombment into the Golden Throne, I have been steadily searching for many possibilities to defeat Chaos. In that time, I learned that Chaos was not merely satisfied with this timeline, this universe. Instead, Chaos seeks to devour all of existence in its madness.
"For all of Chaos' power, however, it has left many weaknesses in its armor. In doing so, it unwittingly enabled me to learn of the wider existence that thrives beyond our war torn universe. As such, I have enacted one of my contingencies to save a small part of the Imperium of Man, if not all of it."
"And that would be?" Ivan asked.
"To send the worlds of those that have been loyal to the Imperium of Man, no matter the trials they have faced, to other universes. Even now, the Legion of The Damned are working to ensure the success of this plan. You and many others like you will be instrumental in the success of this plan."
"How so?" Ivan asked. "I cannot command ships, lead armies into battle…"
"But you do your duty with honest zeal and you have remained unbowed by Chaos," the Emperor said. "You are unique, Ivan, not just in who you are, but what you have experienced. You are also a symbol of what the Imperium of Man should have become, as opposed to what it is now. You hate Chaos in all of its forms, you gird your soul with that hate and contempt, yet you show love and friendship for your fellow man. Chaos fears you, even as it attempts and fails to tempt you into joining it. This makes you the perfect candidate for what must be done."
The view outside of the sphere of logic and sanity they were in changed to that of another galaxy. "The universe you are traveling to is the first that is being threatened by the corruption that is Chaos. Should no one intervene, Chaos, with the help of any cultists they rally to their cause in this universe, will break through the barriers surrounding our universe and it will consume this one. Not even the heroes within this universe will be able to stop them, unless they are warned of the danger and shown the way to prepare. But that is not the only threat it faces. There is another that threatens to destroy those heroes before Chaos can break through and consume this universe."
"I take it that I and these other people will be sent to stop these threats to Humanity, yes?" Ivan asked.
"That you will be," the Emperor of Mankind said. "You will warn this counterpart of Humanity of the dangers of Chaos, but they are not the only ones that you will warn. There are many Xenos there that have done no crime against Humanity. While one has waged war against Humanity, it is giving due penance for its actions. These Xenos are not to be destroyed; they are also to be warned of the dangers of Chaos, so that they may gird themselves against it. All must stand as one against Chaos, or all shall be destroyed by it."
Ivan nodded. "I do not like having to work with xenos due to their actions, but I will do so regardless. Such is Your will, and I will not disobey it."
The Emperor of Mankind nodded. "Good. You will not be alone in this quest. Many others will be sent in after you to help prepare this universe against the Ruinous Powers of Chaos. Now go, and know that I shall always be with you."
With that, the image beyond the bubble they were in became an empty void. Ivan felt an immense drowsiness coming upon him. Unable to resist, he collapsed onto the ground. The last thing he heard was that of a portal opening, then a peaceful blackness claimed him.