Christ this took way longer than I thought it would. I had hoped to have this out... months ago. Be that as it may, it's finally here. Edited, somewhat. And there's more already written, but far from ready for another chapter release. More at the bottom as per usual, love y'all.
Magos Explorator Cortetis Nesyon's spider-like mechanical legs carried them with an increased swiftness through the halls of the Tempests Advance. Normally left to do whatever the Omnissiah demanded of them, Cortetis had been summoned for a particular conundrum.
One of the Astartes had been injured.
A severe injury, to be certain. After all, injuries sustained from powerful warp entities tended to be far more malignant than even the most accomplished of Psykers could divine.
And the wounded Space Marine was in fact a very pronounced Psyker, at least according to Inquisitor Vownus.
Aethod, the Last Librarian of the Astral Knights, was down a limb. The damaged appendage in question was removed due to taint. And now, Cortetis had been summoned to assist in attaching some kind of replacement, hopefully one that wouldn't impede the Astartes' duties.
The Magos' skittering legs pulled them around a corner, their small cluster of Servitors nearly sprinting in order to keep up with the near rampaging Tech Priest.
If they had still been human, Nesyon would probably have expressed some kind of concern, worry or even frustration.
The Astartes had provided the assisting Magos with little to no relevant detail. Besides the information regarding corruption and the removal of the limb, Cortetis was stepping into a situation that could not be described over the Vox.
That fact in and of itself would be worrying for those of a more flesh-based constitution. But to be fair to the Astartes' obvious discretion, Cortetis knew there was always someone watching and listening.
Inquisitor Kaede had entrusted the ship's digital and vox security to the Magos' versatile mechadendrites, an order that the Explorator continued to complete and uphold with pride. More often than not Cortetis would locate some kind of breach and seal the hole by whoever was listening in. The identities of such spies could be rooted out… but occasionally, a perpetrator would slip in, retrieve information, and then disappear before the Tech Priest could get a complete beed on them.
Such occurrences had amounted to a sum total of three unique instances. And even though Cortetis would disregard himself in shame should such a breach in security occur again, sometimes the easiest way of avoiding such a debacle in the first place was a face to face conversation.
And as soon as Nesyon dealt with the commotion involving the Knights, they would try and figure out what in the Omnissiah's name was happening down at one of the lower medical facilities.
Chiurgeon Gideon's facility.
In a snap order that had gone out across the entire ship, Vownus had sealed the entire deck off.
But such concerns or worries were irrelevant to the Magos and their duties.
Besides, all Cortetis could really do was hope that the meatbag Inquisitor hadn't mucked things up too badly.
After all, 'the flesh is weak' but not completely useless.
However...
It was Vownus after all.
The man had a habit of exacerbating nearly every situation he was involved with.
Lucian wasn't sure that Caius' not-so-little freakout was necessary, nor was his sudden retreat and subsequent sealing of the room. He hadn't even managed to get the bare bones of a sentence out before his teacher and bodyguard had fled.
The thick metal of the Medicae's door bolted closed a second later, the definite slam of its mass preceding the abrupt silence the boy now found himself in.
Young Lucian was now nude and alone in the sterile environment, his jaw slowly closing as he took stock of his current situation.
He recalled 'Red', and the conversation they had shared, one sided as it was. Lucian's mind recalled the more interesting moments of the hallucination, a dream-like memory now embedded in his skull.
It had all seemed so real. And to a degree, struck true in places Lucian hadn't really considered until now.
The 'Fortune telling' aside, Red's comments on Vownus, Caius and Lynwood… Vownus was a topic Lucian was still sore about, and while Lynwood was a crotchety old bastard….
It was Caius that Lucian's mind took greater consideration of.
In particular, the man's inherent terror regarding the Psyker youth.
Red had claimed that the man was scared of Lucian… now the youth had connected the dots, and if not made clear by his sudden outburst, the boy could piece together moments of the man's unease.
Lucian remembered the small service he was allowed to have at his home on Helios, where Caius had stood off to the side.
And the looks he had given the boy, after his and Lynwood's attempted rescue. Even after Lucian had inadvertently saved all of them from the Cultists, Caius was afraid.
And now this, seeing him wake up from-
With a startled and silent shock, Lucian's hands shot up to his chest. His mind had been foggy, but he had only briefly forgotten what had occurred before his mysterious little chat with the scarlet giant.
Above his heart was the remnants of a wound. Scorched and scarred skin lined the jagged puncture shape of the talon which had…
Lucian remembered the pain.
He remembered the feeling of sharpened steel piercing his chest, biting into his heart with pure agony. There had been a cold face looking down at him before everything had gone black.
A curved smile filled with a wicked promise.
Lucian curled in on himself, an arm wrapped around his stomach while his other hand held his healed wound.
It hurt.
Pain laced up and down his body, the sensation of agony reminding him how very alive he was in that moment. It also reminded him of what had been done to his now burning chest.
By the Emperor, it hurt so damn much.
But Lucian knew who he would blame. Anger boiled up to try and temper the pain. Lucian's mind grasped for a fault, an individual to blame for his current predicament and the phantom agony that tugged at his torso.
It was easy to blame Red.
Even as the pain was beginning to subside, Lucian's mind grafted a firm attack.
The giant had 'called in a favor' with Daemons after all. A sorcerer and scholar, consorting with the monsters of the warp, the very creatures that existed to devour the souls of Psykers. This meant that Red was friend-
No.
As the last drop of agony finally left his system, Lucian shook his head to clear the building anger in his form.
Red did not proclaim any ties to Chaos. Infact, he had even advised against forming a pact with the dark forces of the Immaterium, albeit indirectly. But a servant of the Archenemy wouldn't be very forthright with their allegiance, would they?
Not all of them at least.
In fact, depending on what their goals were, a heretic would most certainly avoid disclosing the fact they were untrustworthy.
And Lucian didn't trust Red.
Regardless of how amicable, friendly, and understanding the giant had seemed, the boy knew something was off.
While he did agree to speak with the scarlet scholar out of curiosity's sake, by no means would he mindlessly absorb whatever was being told to him… no matter how appealing or complete the information was.
Like… like knowledge regarding the identity of his Father.
Something Vownus could not give Lucian.
And according to Red, proper lessons on how to correctly conduct the forces of the Immaterium. Because Vownus more than certainly had some other agenda, something he wasn't sharing with Lucian.
Red's entire speech about Vownus manipulating him… that had stuck a deep and resonating chord within Lucian's heart. A chord that he had always known was there, but never had truly wished to acknowledge.
However, Red was similarly positioned and probably gunning towards an equivalent result. Lucian would bet the clothes on his back against anyone who could argue that the scarlet giant wasn't looking for some kind of particular outcome.
One that played toward some kind of ulterior motive that the Giant was working towards.
Yet even though it wasn't as obvious as Lucian hoped it would be, he could still smell the proverbial smoke.
And if there was smoke, common sense would suggest there had to be a fire as well.
And that worried him.
Traps laid by expert hunters were only spotted when it was far too late for their prey. Lynwood had firmly educated Lucian on this topic.
Now it felt as if he were the prey in this scenario.
Worry and fear would eat him up.
The future was unclear and uncertain, and Lucian would come at it with an open mind.
But he'd make his own conclusions.
Lucian wouldn't allow anyone else to color his future and fate differently. Even if his destiny was apparently set in stone, according to Red's card's atleas-
The door to the cold and clinical room opened.
Bright white light from the hallway spilled past the dark figure temporarily silhouetted in the threshold.
Lucian looked up….. And as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he was greeted by the sight of a Hell Pistol pointed right at his head.
Behind it, was the glowering form of the Inquisitor he had just been thinking about.
"V-Vownus?"
'The dead do not rise'
The words repeated in his head like some kind of ritualistic chant. Again and again, they pulled with the nerves of his finger, ever so slightly coiling and uncoiling against the trigger of his pistol.
Lucian's face looked back at him, fearful and worried.
The boy had raised his hands to defend himself, as if that would make any difference from the destruction a Hell Pistol could spit out.
Vownus was detached from this fear. The words he had been told by his former master were enough to convince him to pull the trigger and end the life of the being before him.
However, the very face which fearfully stared at him also gave him pause.
'The dead do not rise'
Lucian was small for his age, taking much more time to come into his teenage years than most boys did. And while the concept of parenting was far beyond Vownus' realm of expertise, he also wasn't blind.
He could see the obvious change, the small adjustment that prevented him from pulling the trigger.
A part of him was beginning to see what was forming. The presence had not settled in completely, and only a mere human would fail to see it.
But a Psyker with a trained eye, one in touch with the Warp… the beast that waited behind the boy was looming above him. There was no more subtlety, not where the Immaterium was concerned.
For a moment, Vownus felt fear.
A deep and natural fire that instilled a raw terror into his bones.
Without his more tempered instincts, Vownus might have given into the slightest of temptations his mind whispered toward him.
A subtle instinct in his body told him to kill the child now, just so he could be done with this mad fiesta of events.
Damn the prophecy.
Damn the Tyrantine Cabal.
And damn Anton Zerbe.
All of this could end right now… He could wash his hands clean of everything, maybe even live out his days semi peacefully before some big fuck off Daemon could take a bite outta him…
….
Except….
Where once Lucian was a blue eyed black haired youth, sporting a meager physique and pale skin….
Vownus could see the change.
Well, all of his features were the same aside from the eyes.
But there was an alteration, a miniscule detail that rapped its proverbial knuckles against the Inquisitor's conscience.
The light rings of gold, a tone composed of a soft ethereal glow, were coated by the emotion so clearly displayed by the boy.
It wasn't enough to be taken in by the sudden change in the boy's features, but to feel the power behind those eyes as they washed over him.
As his gun finally lowered, Vownus knew what he was looking at now.
It seemed so soon, yet mildly unbelievable.
The boy was beginning to come into his power.
He could even think of the few recent instances.
Unaffected by the strange blank currently being held upon the ship…. Resisting and also attacking the rabid Biomancer…. Surviving a wound considered fatal to mortals? Or coming back from the dead?
"Vownus?"
'The dead do not rise'
….
Perhaps… Perhaps this was to be one of Lucian's, and even Vownus', many trials. If anything, the current state of affairs pointed to this being a forgone conclusion.
Maybe.
Only time would tell.
Holstering his gun and sweeping the hat off of his head, Vownus decided to go with some calming and potentially relaxing words.
"I'm digging the new look kid, but maybe you shouldn't be dying for a style change, yeah?"
Caius found himself in the Tempest's mess hall in short order. He wasn't looking for food however, rather gunning for the behind the counter Meades and Ale's that the Mess Sergeant handled.
Vownus was likely aware of such a backhanded arrangement, but chose not to actively meddle in it. The Inquisitor had likely ordered the Commissariate to stay light on the punishment of those that indulged in drink. Many soldiers had a war torn history of combat, such was the life as a Guardsman of Mankind, and sought comfort at the bottom of a bottle.
So long as it didn't affect the Soldiers duties, such behavior would be tolerated.
But Caius didn't care about any of that at the moment.
All he needed was something to take the edge off of the slight shake in his leg and hand.
After all, it isn't everyday that you witness the resurrection of a dead body right before your eyes. A corpse basked in gold light with glowing eyes….
Yeah. Caius had hit his tolerance level for freaky shit, and being thoroughly disturbed by such 'freaky shit'... Emperor willing he'd find a drink.
Walking up to the guard rail just before the entrance to the kitchens, he hopped it with only a light stumble.
Between the rows of mess hall serving stations and powered down food processors, he found the storage containers that the mess Sergeant's would frequent.
Cracking the first locker open resulted in nothing.
As did the second and third.
A growl of frustration was all he let out before moving on to the next one. But before he could get into it, a stout and commanding tone called to him.
"I didn't take you for a drinker"
The feminine voice belonged to Caius' unofficial parttime bunkmate, Kilo Squad's Sergeant, Haylay Halliday.
Pausing from his perusal of liquor, Caius stood and turned to face the Woman.
She was leaning over the mess hall's counter, a frown across her wonderful features. Dressed in full gear, she somehow managed to make it look elegant.
Or maybe Caius appreciated her form that much.
Regardless of the figure Haylay cut, she'd delivered a statement that was loaded with a subtle question.
"Neither did I," Caius answered, abruptly turning back to his search. He knew the bottles were stashed around here somewhere.
He didn't turn around when he heard Haylay's Combat boots scuff the floor, signaling her hop over the counter.
"You're rattled" she stated as she closed in on him.
Caius shifted a stack of cans and tins, grunting as he slid them aside, "disturbed feels like a better word"
A hand snapped onto his shoulder, and Haylay spun him around.
It took Caius a second to realize he was speaking to the Imperial Guard, not the woman.
"Get your shit straight" she growled, "if tangling with Inquisitor Kaedes' funky business can unsettle you so badly-
"He's immortal"
Kilo squad's sergeant slipped away at Caius' hissed declaration.
"What? Immortal?" she quickly prodded, her eyebrows notting, "what in the Emperor's name are you-
"The boy! Lucian died!" Caius blurted loudly before stomping down on his volume.
Resting back against a shut container, he exhaled, briefly taking a moment to compose himself.
"Death isn't a foreign concept to me. But… but the boy was killed. I saw his corpse. I followed Vownus as he carried it to the Chirurgeon. A hole twice the size of my fist had punctured his chest"
Caius opened his eyes, the image playing over his vision again and again.
"I felt like I'd failed the kid. Fucked it all up right out of the gate. Me and Lynwood were supposed to teach him, get him up to Vownus' standards. He was our responsibility and he died. I couldn't take my eyes off his corpse"
His eyes tracked down to Haylay's, who is studying Caius intently.
"Then this light, this bloody golden glow just picks up around his body" his gaze unfocused, "and then he sits up. No hole. Not dead. Very much alive, and breathing once more…"
"That's not possible," Haylay said calmly. There was a slight edge of disbelief, but her tone was rock solid.
Caius had a sharp and honest response at the ready.
"The God Emperor as my witness, the boy has risen from the dead"
Kilo's Seargeant settled her arms into a cross over her chest.
"I see why you need the drink"
Caius snorted a bitter laugh as Haylay lapsed into silence.
A contemplative silence.
A silence that she broke a few minutes later.
"You shouldn't have told me that"
"Probably" Caius mumbled.
"No" Haylay snapped, "coming back from the dead… I'm not a Psyker, but that's not something I've heard of even someone as powerful as Vownus… Throne, I've never heard of anyone being capable of…. that…."
She uncrossed one arm, tapping a finger against her cheek as her eyes focused on another point.
Caius knew she was connecting dots that were invisible to him. He'd already pegged her for being a smart individual, so he let his mouth stay shut as she continued to speak.
"Until the word gets out, keep your mouth shut. If Vownus knows you spoke to me… regardless of how friendly the man is, he still is a member of the Inquisition. If he doesn't want anyone to know, they will not"
Caius just nodded, someone grasping the ramifications of his blabbering.
"So I advise you to hold your tongue for now" Haylay sourly commented, "but Gideon might not keep this under wraps. Psyker magics or not, he'd document the instance"
If the Guard began talking about it, then Caius would have some reasonable justification to have spoken with Haylay.
It had been a spur of the moment blurt to his current bunkmate, but she was here, willing and ready to talk-
Wait.
As she shifted into some individual and quiet contemplation, Caius let his brain put a question of his own together.
"Hang on. How'd you know I was here?"
The Tempests Advance wasn't the largest known ship of the Imperium, but it wasn't a small vessel to say the least.
Haylay had duties to attend to. She'd have been on active patrol only minutes ago. How did the Sergeant know where Caius was?
She looked up from the spot she was focusing on.
"You marched right past a friend of mine on your rampage here. His exact words to me over the Vox were, 'your pretty boy's looking shellshocked'" she languidly explained, "since we're coming back down from the general Alert, I had some free time"
Caius' eyes narrowed slightly and he cut straight to the point.
"Are you keeping tabs on me?"
"I'm keeping tabs on Vownus" Haylay readily admitted, "so by extension, yes"
Caius felt a tingle of worry in his hand, an instinctive flinch for his weapon holster resounding through his entire body. He didn't follow through with the feeling, since he still wanted answers.
"And why is that?"
It didn't have to be explained that someone keeping tabs on a member of the Inquisition was extremely suspicious.
Haylay sighed, almost knowingly. It seemed a part of her knew that this conversation might come up some day.
"Because for some unknowable reason, Vownus Kaede enjoys employing my team to be his personal escort. Have you ever noticed how he doesn't have a cadre of Adeptus Sororitas sequestered onboard?"
Caius didn't say anything. His expression remained the same however, so Haylay continued to elaborate.
"He's different. The Inquisition operates outside of the Imperium, but even then Vownus plays by his own rules. He's a loose cannon, working towards goals I don't even want to imagine. And if he one day hacks of more than he can chew, it'll be my team right by his side on our way into the abyss"
Haylay brushed past Caius, walking towards the farthest storage locker.
"In the Guard if you die it's for the cause. You know you'll die fighting the enemy, whether it's Xenos or Traitors. While the Inquisition… lacks clarity"
She opened the container, reaching for the back panel of the locker.
"Well, more precisely they lack the willingness to share their vision. In Vownus' case, I'm selfish enough to admit that I'd prefer to know what I'm dying for, even if he hasn't decided to tell me"
She emerged from the locker with a bottle in hand.
"Now then pretty boy, are you going to keep interrogating me? Or are we going to have that drink?"
Caius was willing to argue.
He was willing to bite at those words, as he most probably should have. But Haylay's disarming smile and the promise of a numbing bliss from the sloshing ale in the bottle…
Golden eyes hung in his mind, pushing his decision out his mouth before his brain could further protest.
Such a short day had turned out to be unnecessarily stressful.
"We're going to my bunk afterward"
All she did was smile at that, proceeding to crack the lid on the obsidian bottle.
The blessed smell of sacred oils and burning incense came back into Aethod's mind as his brain emerged from the battle prayer.
It was best not to focus directly on the surgery that had been performed, but his mind was still roused by the Magos' digital words.
"The taint has been completely purged. The machine has taken well to your flesh…"
Aethod studied the prosthesis as Cortetis slowly skittered back a meter or so, giving the Astartes space to stand once more.
But the Librarian remained seated, his gaze and mind absorbing the reality of the loss of his right arm. The Magos had arrived as promptly as Vownus had decreed his presence necessary. Once they had taken stock of the situation, Cortetis had demonstrated an impressive fast action response time.
A wound inflicted by the forces of Chaos could cause even the sturdiest of Medicae personnel a moment of hesitation.
Aethod wasn't sure whether to attribute Cortetis' swift actions to his disposition as a member of the Mechanicus… or if Vownus had used him in the past for prior procedures.
The latter was a little more disturbing than the former, but Aethod would pick his friend's mind later.
Vownus was still upset about the child, the boy's death affecting the Inquisitor far more deeply than Vownus' new acolytes could tell.
Aethod flexed his new hand, the strong digits of steel curling in on themselves. His enhanced hearing could pick up on the acute noises of gyro's and motors, as they twisted the ceramite and steel into the mechanical approximation of the grip.
"It is integrated with your Carapice" the Magos further explained, "it shall produce an approximation of touch and feeling… but not to the degree your weakened flesh could"
What a curious comment from the Magos.
Cortetis was obviously remarking upon how the limb could not feel pain and debilitating damage. Yet they did not see the limbs inability to experience touch or feeling as an inefficiency.
A presence shifted at the entrance of the space, the hulking steps of Aethod's Captain following the separation of the room's doors.
"What you call the weakness of flesh, Magos, my Brother's and I see as our great teacher"
The hand unclenched at Aethod's mental command, his armored feet finding him up to his full stature to greet his commander.
The Magos seemed to understand where the comment was directed at, and the feeling of a retreaded argument began to well up.
"Pain is inefficient"
"Pain is a teacher" Germael stated with finality, "and it serves one well to heed its lessons"
"Lest one repeat their mistakes" Aethod chimed in, drawing the eyes of his Captain a moment later.
They remained silent.
It took only a few moments for the member of the Mechanicus to understand that their presence was no longer required.
As the Magos exited the space, Germael and Aethod kept their eyes locked upon one another.
Cortetis knew that the Space Marines needed to speak with one another.
The door to the small examination and medical room shut a second later.
"I cannot say the limb suits you" Germael eventually settled on, his eyes darting down to the arm for a moment or two. His voice had an edge of humor, but one so subtle only one such as Aethod or any of the other Knights would notice.
"It will serve its purpose" the Librarian decided, flexing the arm a few times in support of his statement.
Germael's eyes settled back on his, a frown deepening his already grim features.
"What did you come across"
Aethod saw little reason in keeping this from his Captain. In fact, if Vownus was currently grieving he'd probably be the one explaining the situation to Germael.
"A twisted creature…. One that wore the visage of many, including the likeness of a fell beast"
Germael merely raised an eyebrow.
"The likeness?"
Aethod nodded.
"My eyes and… my arm…" he took a moment to rotate the new limb, "would have me believe I have combatted a Lord of Change, a Greater Daemon"
"Impossible" Germael bit back instantly, "you would not-"
"As I said Brother, the true adversary merely cloaked itself in the faces of others…" Aethod took a second to calm the anger in his heart.
"At one point it took upon the visage of the Archtraitor"
Germael practically vibrated in place, the anger of his mind boiling over to the surface of his form. The Astral Knight Captain managed to hold his tongue as Aethod continued.
"Vownus banished it from this realm, but we were too late to prevent its vile machinations"
"The boy" Germael stated with a matter of fact tone.
Aethod nodded, "slain by the Shapeshifter. It probably led the boy away from his room with the visage of a friend"
"A devious trickster" Germael's face was a grimace, "I cannot say I have heard of such a beast"
Aethod shook his head, "I will urge Vownus to speak with his allies within the Inquisition. Unless this is the first instance of a creature never encountered before, the Old Hunter, Ahmazzi, could shed some light on this''
"I believe he will" Germael concurred.
The silence that followed was stalwart and nearly frigid.
Aethod was surprised at how tense he now felt.
What was-
"Now that the boy is dead…" Germael stopped himself, going over his words a moment before continuing, "I find myself lost, regarding our course of action"
Aethod's eyes narrowed.
"Brother, I am responsible for the greatest failure to beset our Imperium since the Heresy… and you are worried for what remains of our Chapter?"
Now Germael's expression shifted towards hostility.
"You believe Vownus to have spoken the truth regarding the boy?"
"Why would he lie?" Aethod quickly retorted, the challenge in his tone evident to any who could have heard the words.
"The boy is dead" Germael snapped, "how could the supposed savior of Mankind be slain before entering even the cusp of manhood?!"
Aethod bit back a snarl, "there are forces at work which-"
But Germael slashed right through him.
"You are a Son of Dorn, Aethod, an Astral Knight. Not a puppet to the Inquisition, nor to Vownus himself. I will not have you chasing their wild dreams any longer" anger abating with each word, Germael clasped a hand on Aethod's shoulder, a meaningful look entering the Captain's eyes.
"There are too little of us left Brother, far too little to be chasing rumor and mystery"
Aethod failed to hold his Captain's gaze.
"Vownus Kaede is an honorable man. I am glad our Order has crossed paths with him, but you have deluded yourself in believing him to be your friend. He serves his own purposes, as does-"
"Friend?"
Aethod brushed the limb away, a step away from his Captain following the roll of his shoulder.
"You think my belief in Vownus stems from friendship?"
Germael's slightly raised eyebrows conveyed a magnitude of shock that only an Astartes could deem to be significant. But Aethod wasn't finished speaking yet.
"Forgive me Brother, but you will never understand the Immaterium. You will never understand what goes on between the fabric of our reality" Aethod's metal fist clenched, "I see as Vownus does. I alone can comprehend the enormity of Kaede's Prophecy, and what it would mean to see it fulfilled! I saw what the boy was!"
Aethod feels a subtle stab of hate in his hearts.
An anger that was built around the animosity his Brother's are naturally inclined to feel toward him.
Because he is a Psyker.
And they are not.
A simple, yet unmendable bridge that would forever keep them so close yet so very far from one another.
"Brother…" is all Germael manages to say, his voice exuding a rare moment of sorrow.
It is broken by chatter on their Vox-net.
"Brother Captain, Inquisitor Kaede has…. requested, both yourself and Brother Aethod"
Germael takes a few moment to look up and down Aethod's frowning expression, before eventually turning his full attention toward Raduriel's message.
"And for what reason does he request us, Sergeant?"
There is a brief pause before the reply.
And a moment before the voice of Raduriel's Vox-caster reply can reach him, Aethod feels the disturbance in the Immaterium. He feels the wave of force and feeling as his mind fully comprehends the message.
"The Inquisitor is with… he is with the boy…. The child Lives"
"I was asleep"
Lucian sat quietly on the table he had been laid upon in the Chirurgeon's examination room. He had finally been dressed in clothing, a layer of warmth added to the cold feeling of the room… and the frigid look from Vownus.
After the initial burst of humor, the Inquisitor has steadily shifted into a dower expression.
He looked at Lucian differently, a subtle lilt of contemplation added to his serious visage.
And this look was what Lucian was to be subjected to as he recounted the events that lead to him winding up in the morgue.
"Strange dreams"
"How so?"
The boy looked up, meeting the Inquisitor's eyes directly.
"A city. Built of white and black, shimmering on the horizon of a world consumed by shadow"
Vownus frowned, but gestured to the boy to continue.
"I was woken by Creepy-"
"Who?" Vownus asked confusedly.
Lucian cringed slightly, "the Space Marine with the hood?"
Vownus blinked, his expression relaxing for a moment. A second later his features tightened up again.
"I see…" he gestured again, his gaze unfocusing slightly as he contemplated something.
"He told me you wanted to meet with me. Something important"
"Caius or Lynwood would fetch you if I required your presence, not Librarian Aethod" Vownus chided.
Lucian glared, "how was I supposed to know that?"
He glared back at the boy, "now you do. Continue"
A tense moment later, Lucian did as ordered.
"It was cold. I was tired. I asked him where we were going. He told me we were going to a storage room. That I was to be taught 'something important…" Lucian trailed off as his gaze slowly shifted toward, his head tilting to look at his chest.
Over the gray shirt, his hand came to touch the space above his heart.
"It got dark. Creepy-"
Vownus fixed Lucian with a look.
"Librarian Aethod," Lucian managed, "suddenly disappeared. And then you were there. And then you weren't"
The boy's eye twitched, his hands balling slightly as they came to rest in his lap.
His eyes focused on the floor.
"Then Ostus was there. That got me angry…."
Vownus snapped his fingers, breaking the boy away from his sudden slump and vacant gaze.
"And then?"
"Then the really scary guy was there. The huge Space Marine"
Vownus' hands curled into fists as the room's temperature dropped.
"Horus"
Lucian blinked, not even noticing the pull of the Immaterium, "Who? The big Space Marine?"
Vownus nodded after taking a moment to compose himself.
"The Archtraitor. The being which betrayed the Emperor and his brother's, the other Primarchs" he barely managed to deliver the words in a calm tone, "what you fought was his visage"
"Oh"
Vownus brought a hand to his chin, taking a moment to tap it idly as he thought of something.
He didn't seem so tense anymore.
"Is that all?"
There was the slightest hint of an accusing tilt to the words that Lucian managed to mentally gloss over without reacting.
He nodded.
"Hmmm" Vownus' hand dropped from his face, "fine. Looks like you'll be needing some more teachers"
Lucian blinked.
"What? More teachers?"
Vownus nodded, "considering that you, my wonderful danger magnet of an apprentice, have just come into contact with the forces of Chaos, you'll to know what you're up against"
Vownus pinged his Vox-link, delivering a brief message of, "Raduriel. The boy's alive. Tell Aethod and Germael to get their butts down to Gideon's"
He looked back to Lucian.
"You need to know everything. And not just the tripe they teach in any old Academy or Schola program, you-"
Lucian raised a hand.
Vownus blankly stared at the boy, before nodding at the boy. The boy took the non-verbal permission and bluntly stated;
"I never went to one of those"
Vownus blinked.
"What"
"I've never been in a Schola program, or been to an Academy" Lucian repeated, "I was needed… in the fields"
Vownus blinked again.
Lucian's face turned a bit red.
The Inquisitor did not look away.
Lucian could only imagine what the man was thinking.
'A complete lack of a formal education… riiiight…' Vownus thought to himself, unable to verbalize the frustrating wonder he felt toward the boy.
'I mean, for someone without a formal education he was very quick on the uptake for Caius' general lessons' Vownus admitted to himself.
"I see. Well" Vownus dusted his thoughts together, settling on a firm and direct explanation, "think of it this way. You're gonna be getting the best, and only the best from now on"
Lucian fidgeted slightly.
"What about Lynwood… and Caius?"
The first name the boy stated seemed normal, but the hum of fear surrounding the second, the younger of the former Arbites, pushed some hesitation into Vownus' mind.
"They will continue their lessons with you after we alter the schedule" Vownus tipped his hat back slightly, striding forward to sit next to Lucian in the next moment.
"Why do you ask?" he said, stonily looking down at the boy now beside him.
"I… well…" Lucian fidgeted.
"Out with it kiddo" Vownus pressed.
The boy sighs, a tone oddly weary and exhausted for one so young to manage. A small part of Vownus contended with the fact that such a boy would ever have to make such a noise. The greater part of his consciousness squashed such an understanding.
It was a cold and grim Universe that humanity found itself in.
Such innocence had no place among the foundations of fate and destiny.
Vownus' brain managed to latch onto Lucian's words even as he silently judged the boy.
"Caius is scared of me"
Vownus nodded absently to the observation "And?"
"And?!" Lucian repeated, childishly complaining, "why? I haven't done anything to him, or anyone else on the ship? I've been attentive in lessons, and he just-"
Vownus' harsh voice butted into his words.
"I can't tell if you get a kick from being this blind and ignorant all the time, or you're just doing it to mess with me, but for the Emperor's sake kid-" Vownus glared explosively, "wake up!"
He stood up, angrily beginning to pace around the room.
"What don't you understand, hmm?" Vownus swiped the hat from his head, his free hand brushing back his black locks with a swift move.
"Caius is scared of you because you are different. To people like him, and most of the Imperium, you are not human" the hat found itself back on Vownus' head, "it doesn't matter that you have saved him. It does not matter that you have not hurt him. It doesn't matter that you're young!"
The Inquisitor rounded on the boy, his gaze serious and rigid.
"You are the anathema to what they are taught, a being which folds the realm of monsters and daemons to their will. Of course the simple minded fear you!"
Lucian failed to meet it, his head slumped forward.
"Look at me boy"
Lucian didn't move.
"I said-" Vownus grabbed his chin roughly, lifting his face to stare at him, "Look. At. Me!"
His anger subsided as golden ringed eyes made contact with his own. His hand drifted away as he studied the boy's expression.
Lucian's eyes weren't filled with rage, but melancholy and confusion.
Vownus let the words tumble from his lips, a small part of him desperately hoping the boy would understand the importance of his following words.
"You are different. Unknown" he softly explained, slowly dropping into a kneeling position.
"And humanity has always been fearful of the Unknown, fearful of what it cannot understand"
"Cannot? Why can't they understand… us? Psykers? …What's so different?" Lucian muttered, his face still pointed toward Vownus, but his eyes cast down.
"The same blood runs through our veins, and bleeds from our wounds…. It is the same heart which beats within our chests, granting us strength and pride…" his eyes weren't filled with sorrow, but with gentle and timid disappointment.
The golden glow had returned to the boy's gaze.
"A Psyker and any old Imperial Citizen have differences that are few in number, Lucian'' the golden eyes swiveled toward Vownus.
"But of those few differences... they are great, and that is enough to warrant their caution, their uneasiness and their fear. Our understanding of the Immaterium, our ability to channel it" Vownus shook his head softly, "they will always fear this"
They remained silent after that.
Until the boy's face twisted into annoyance.
"If we get the chance to mend these differences, no matter how slim it may seem, we must take it Vownus"
Lucian's face shifted to a determined gaze, his features cutting a sharp expression.
"If not for our sake, then for the rest of the Imperium"
Vownus just nodded.
His words were almost lost as the door to the Chirurgeon facility opened once more, revealing the summoned Space Marines.
"I promise"
In the long shadows of the frigid room he waits, patiently preparing for the moment his jailor shall return.
Black dressed figures, a man and a woman… he thinks. Their darkened outfits never truly gave away too much.
Just like the area he found himself in.
For the room is sparse and sterile. It is dominated by a single chair and metal tray with wheels.
These two features denote the purpose of the room.
The chair possesses two sets of manacles. These metal contraptions are designed for the feet and hands respectively. He knows this.
He knows this very well.
Ever since he'd first been put in the room, he knew how well that metal would hold him. Against all his strength, against all his pain, his fear, his rage, the manacles would hold.
He'd threaten, cry, scream, beg until he'd pass out from the pain.
This was the room he was instructed in.
This was the space in which he understood how close a person could be brought to the thin line, the one that borders life and death.
It didn't have a name.
But he had given it one.
The house of pain, at first.
Been when wood was shoved beneath his nails, and a thousand cuts peppered his legs and arms…. There was no name.
It was just a place.
A place of pain.
This was the facility the old man had left him in.
Fantastic choice.
Given the chance, he'd kill the old man. If he ever saw him again…
If he managed to leave here.
A freakshow nightmare shop designed to break his very spirit, while simultaneously ripping the humanity from his pathetic form.
Besides the torture of your body, they broke your mind with a layer of illusions.
Sometimes they would leave you in the room.
He never knew when they did, or why. Time had abandoned him long ago, leaving him in the horrible silence of his own company.
The guards, the torturers… his enemies would exit, leaving the door open as they did. Minutes later his shackles would break open, freeing him for a moment.
He remembers the first time he was freed, aftering begging his silent captors to release him… even as they pulled the small knives from his arm and leg, leaving him to bleed as they left in silence.
And then he found himself on shaky legs a minute later, exiting the room in exchange for the labyrinthe of passages beyond. He had looked for help the first time.
What a fool he had been.
But eventually they came in search of him.
Sooner or later once he had left the room, and he had always left the room, they came for him.
From the first time he had escaped…. Until now, they would hunt him. And they always found him.
They put him to sleep with their hands. Or with tools.
And he'd wake up in the room again, a dull ache in his recently healed wounds being the only obvious hint besides the room itself that all of this wasn't some kind of nightmare.
They would fix him in order to hurt him more.
The second time he was released he had looked for help.
There was none.
The third time he was set free, he had realized that his injuries left a trail of crimson. A path of blood which always revealed him.
The fourth time, he had ran as far and as fast as he could, trying to memorize a few paths before they came for him.
This had continued for some time.
He didn't know when, but eventually he had attempted to look for them. To fight them. To put a stop to their torment of him.
Those had ended the worst, with far more painful injuries littering his form.
Sometimes he would just sit outside his cell.
For mundane reasons.
Simple reasons.
Prayer.
Rest.
To just be free from the room.
He had given himself time to think, time to prepare. His mind looked for other solutions, even as they continued to hurt him, the gears of his head were turning.
And then the plan came to him.
As his hair had grown long, and as his body became weaker, he had thought of it.
He studied the guards. He studied their movements, their habits. He studied their nervous ticks and their exhaustion.
….Studied where they kept their weapons on their person…
And they continued to hurt him all the while.
Unaware of what he had planned.
Eventually the day came.
This time they had injured his left leg and right arm.
Minor punctures.
More blood than it was actual damage to his capabilities.
A boon.
When they had left him in the room, he remained calm.
But when the manacles released him from the chair, once he was upon his own two feet he reacted immediately.
Using a mouth filled with a few gaps in it, he very carefully began to bite into his elongated nails. He fashioned them into points.
This was going to work.
He stepped from the room, lying close to the ground to rub his open wound into the stone floor. He left marks of his blood all across the floor outside the room, not sparing a glance at the black maze over either shoulder before retreating into the horrible room.
Then the next step.
His hands came to his skull.
He had to get a good grip before he tore the hair from his head. Immediately stuffing it into the punctures or tying the thick locks around the wounds, he began to stem the obvious flows of blood.
A matted and greasy bandage.
It would do for now.
And then he had hoisted himself up above the frame of the steel door. His feet rested on the frame as one hand held itself against the ceiling.
The blades of his fingernails wavered only slightly as his eyes remained fixed below.
This would be his only chance.
If he failed this, they'd never let it happen again.
Bearing this in mind, he did not allow himself to make any noise.
He would wait.
He would cease this opportunity.
….
He was rewarded with the sound of footsteps. The approach of his prey.
"Oh. Didn't leave the room"
"Another dead one"
…they spoke.
They had spoken.
They… they were… people… they….
His momentary shock was swept away by a burning wall of pain. Phantom memories across his entire form that reminded him of what they had done to him.
The footsteps drew closer.
When the first one stepped into the room, he was only a few feet beneath him.
...
...
The black clothed guard took a second to study the room.
It took the guard only another second to turn in horror.
But the desperate former-prisoner was already upon him.
Sharpened clawed hands, refined through precise action, punctured the man's eyes. His howl of surprise and pain was ignored by the attacker, who reached for the man's side.
A Las Pistol was holstered above his hip.
Like… an officer.
The second guard was still reacting as the two bodies crashed to the ground. She failed to stop the ruby Las-Bolt from punching through her chest.
It created a hole larger than her fist, one that blossomed through her torso.
However, he was already focused on the writhing blind man. The one that was still alive.
The attacker had words. Things he could have said.
He wanted to reflect the pain and agony he had been given… he wanted to return what had been done to him, tenfold.
And he could have done so.
Instead, he quietly thanked the Emperor and blew the man's face off.
The guard's screams of agony ceased as the bolt of ruby connected with his forehead, burning through the hands that attempted to caress his bloody face.
Blessed silence took the room, and with it, the sole living occupant quietly returned to the chair.
His chair.
He sat down. Not once did his eyes ever return to the dead bodies by his feet.
The only noise that penetrated the chamber was that of his own breathing. Calm and focused, he remained there.
A part of him knew that there was a possibility that more would come. That perhaps his tormentors were different each time… or that this was all some carefully crafted nightmare.
The dead bodies on the ground were his own comfort in this being real.
He had marked them for death, and he had executed his will.
For now, that was all that mattered.
After some time, he heard more footsteps.
His purple eyes didn't bother to focus on the door until the steps were finally at the threshold.
"Boy"
His back stiffened a moment before he turned around.
The old man stood before him.
The ever present frown was still across his features, the same as the one the old bastard had given him…. when he had left him here.
But the anger had left him many… a long time ago.
It had not been the Old Man who had done these things to him.
No, his targets had been the guards.
The ex-prisoner stood from the chair, coming before the not so alone old man.
A masked figure stood beside him, dressed in ornamental armor with a skull for a face.
This being could kill him. And it could kill him very quickly and very painfully…
"Yes m'lord?" His voice was scratchy and hoarse, but it still worked. Surprisingly.
His eyes remained on the figure as the Inquisitor spoke.
"Congratulations on passing"
He bowed, but only partially. His back still hurts after all… and he kept the skull faced figure in his eyesight.
"Thank you, my Lord"
"You will be allowed to rest for a time. But after this, your training shall continue under your new teacher" the old man gestured to the figure, "Do we understand each other?"
The trainee could feel the eyes behind the mask as they studied him, the features obscured by the depiction of death alluding to nothing.
A black hole of a threat, one that-
"Titos"
His eyes shifted to Ahmazzi.
The aged Inquisitor relaxed ever so slightly.
"Do we understand each other?"
Titos Erthaq nodded with a deeper bow. Even though his teeth were missing, even though his hands were covered in blood, his scalp burned and his body ached, the Cadian boy smiled as he spoke.
"Yes my Lord"
While the casual step of a Space Marine drowned out even the heaviest of bootfalls, Lucian couldn't help but feel unnerved but the sheer silence that emanated between him and Creep-
Librarian Aethod.
Yes.
His ordered companion.
After his uncomfortably deep talk with Vownus, the Inquisitor had ordered Aethod to return the boy to his room and to stand vigil until the Tempest's Advance had exited the Warp.
Lucian hadn't been distracted enough to not notice the meaningful look that Vownus had shared with Cree-
Librarian Aethod.
There was something else that had gone on there, some kind of silent conversation that Lucian wasn't able to listen to or even pick up on. The air had felt strange, colder, but then again most things felt different since he'd woken up.
Lucian looked up toward the Space Marine that led the way toward his room.
He couldn't see it, but surrounding the form of the soldier was a corona of… something. A pressure of invisible power, circulating his guide's enomority in an indecipherable pattern. The locus of this energy lay at the center of the Librarian, at the very source of his being.
Lucian blinked in surprise.
It was so close to him, not close enough to touch, but he could reach out at-
In the blink of an eye, Aethod had rounded on him, the full focus on the invisible maelstrom that surrounded the warrior focusing on the boy.
From beneath the hood of the Librarian, Lucian could make out the now glowing eyes of the Astartes, a stark difference from the calm orbs he had seen before.
A stark showing of power.
Lucian flinched backwards, his hands held up in defense of himself at the fearsome sight.
A squeak of terror found its way to his lips before he could even get a thought or word across.
The Librarian stilled for an awfully tense moment, the two of them standing alone in the gray corridor.
Aethod had reacted out of instinct, one hand beginning to conjure the warp as the other reached for a weapon.
It took all of his might to stay himself as the boy leapt back in terror.
But the motion had been justified.
Aethod had felt it.
The terrible presence, an engulfing mass that had suddenly leaned upon him. It had come from the boy. And it was…
It had been as Vownus said.
An impossible force, a presence unlike anything he had ever felt.
So great was it that an intrinsic feature of his brain had tripped in response to it.
A bygone emotion for any Space Marine had welled up in great amounts, disturbingly grand in its appearance.
Fear had taken him in that moment.
And it had left him as quickly as it had formed.
Seeing the child rear back in fear, the probing warp presence following the boy's action, Aethod immediately calmed himself.
But while he was now on edge, Aethod still managed to reel himself and his instincts under control. His mind quickly tamed the fear, an embarrassing emotion to have in response to a figure that was so small in comparison to himself.
But a Psyker knows to look beyond the physical.
And his eyes saw more than Lucian's small form belayed.
He saw it all.
"You will be expected to exercise your power with more discretion" Aethod grumbled, his form relaxing into a tall stance as his arms dropped to his side, "but I will warn you only once. Do not do that again unless I permit it"
The child's face morphed into confusion.
"Do what, exactly?"
Aethod sighed internally.
The boy was untrained.
He was also developing his powers at a commensurate rate. Vownus had expressed there would be some incredible developments, but this entire situation regarding the boy's resurrection… Aethod wasn't even sure what to make of the child anymore.
There were only a handful of beings that Aethod understood being capable of having such power, and as Vownus had explained the boy was to be considered one of them.
A sobering thought considering Aethod was intune with his own considerable abilities and knew what such power could do to a mind, let alone a soul.
And he was expected to teach the boy.
…perhaps now was a better time than most to start.
"You attempted to touch my soul," Aethod calmly explained, "whether you knew you were or not is irrelevant. A soul is a precious thing, a piece of one that any man would be compelled to safeguard"
The boy flinched back, his eyes wide in obvious and innocent surprise.
'As I suspected, it was not intentional' Aethod internally remarked, 'merely a natural extension, as if he were testing a limb he had never known of before'
"Your soul"
The boy's words draw Aethod's attention. He had spoken them slowly, as if his tongue and brain were disconnected with one another. The Librarian watched as the boy pondered the words mere moments after he said them.
An older part of his mind understood it.
The concept of a soul was hard for most to grasp.
Even the malleable mind of a child would find it hard to grasp such an understanding.
"I just… saw you, and the… stuff that surrounds you" the boy dumbly admitted, a slight grimace in his face. The words were inadequate and sparse but Aethod knew what Lucian meant.
What was interesting however, was the word the boy had used.
'Saw'
Most Psyker's felt the power of one another. Such was how Aethod and Vownus detected each other.
"My presence in the Immaterium" Aethod corrected the boy, even as his mind considered that particular word.
His full attention returned to Lucian's face.
"And how does it appear to you? The… 'stuff', that surrounds me?"
A look of contemplation followed a brief spark of annoyance on the boy's face. Something about the command had irked him?
No.
It was the correction Aethod had given him.
A curious response, one to keep note of.
"This may sound stupid, but it doesn't appear" the boy admitted, "but… I know it is there. I can see it, but it's just not-'' he tensed his shoulders in a shrug, gesturing at Aethod with both hands as he searched for an explanation, "-there"
"And how does it seem? This thing you can but cannot see?" Aethod reiterated, "what form does your mind relate it to?"
Lucian's answer was without hesitation.
"Water"
"Water?" Aethod repeated.
"Water" the boy confirmed, before adding, "but it's see through. Transparent. Kind of. It's there but-"
"Yet it also is not, I understand" the Librarian cut across the boy.
Aethod would meditate upon this later. Visual cues to the Warp… not a common ability. But perhaps one described in older Tomes of his Chapter, an ability documented by Psyker's of his order with more clarity as to its meaning.
To see the energies of the Warp naturally…
To see how those connected to the Immaterium were indeed attached to the powers of the Warp…
A troubling thought.
"Come" Aethod ordered, turning around and continuing his walk.
The boy took a startled second to keep moving, only losing a few meters behind the slowly advancing Astartes.
Blessedly, he remained silent the entire time.
The door to Lucian's room closed behind him, leaving him stranded in a space that felt so comfortably foreign. His desk was as he left it. Same as the bed and closet.
But why would they be adjusted? Why would they be moved or changed?
It had only been a day or less since everything had happened.
Aethod had departed without another word, leaving the boy in the semi-darkness with clouded thoughts.
'His soul?'
Lucian shook his head, his eyes briefly latching onto his bed before he walked over to the desk. The strewn about books and papers were ignored as he sat before it, eyes fixed to its surface as his mind recalled what he had seen.
What had swirled about Aethod's form.
'I was looking at his soul'
Lucian was sobered by the thought. The entire day had been extreme. Both on his body and on his mind. Knowing that he toed the line between life and death only hours ago… and that the wrong choice of words, a different action or if Vownus would read his mind, it would result in his death.
He needed to focus on something else, and not the game he was forced to play in order to balance his curiosities.
A fresh piece of parchment was laid out before him, a quill in his grip after a few moments.
As he continued to contemplate, he wrote. Expanding his thoughts into notation and descriptions.
'The soul. That's what connects Psykers to the warp' he tapped his fingers on the desk, 'but why them? Why me?'
He closed his eyes.
'What makes us different? What is the link between the Soul and the Immaterium, the glue that binds them?'
He thought about it for a few moments, taking his time to pick apart his forming ideas.
The answer seemed obvious, but irritatingly simplistic.
Still, he tried it out.
"Genetic"
Red, the entity that had approached him in the place between life and death, had said his strange connection to the Immaterium was because of Lucian's father.
His mother…. His blood mother was no Psyker. That would have been mentioned by anyone who had helped to raise him.
Alena would have noticed or told him something.
So it was his Father.
Whoever that was.
Lucian continued to write, his eyes open again.
It was Lucian's Father that was the connection between him and the Warp, the link which bonded him and his growing power to the malevolent Empyrean.
"But you couldn't tell me who he was, could you Red?" Lucian grumbled under his breath.
And it wasn't like he could ask Vownus about trying to locate the man, or discover his identity.
Even the Inquisition had limitations on what it could discover.
And if no one on Helios could figure out who Lucian's father was… then the bloodhounds sanctioned by the Vownus would be starting with zero information in the first place.
But at least Red had given him a starting point.
Something Lucian could play around with on his own.
He put the Quill down.
Lucian closed his eyes once more and drew upon that strange place within him. The numbing cold spread throughout his body, slowly boiling up from the icy depth within him.
With a grin, his eyes opened again.
He practiced calling upon that place late into the night.
But eventually sleep called to him, and in his slumber Lucian dreamt of home.
"We have transitioned out from the Warp Inquisitor. So far, the Tempest is reading all signs as normal. Considering our current position, we have a day until we are within Vox-cast range of Balor"
Vownus grinned, "my thanks, Olivina. I suppose that means you'd be free for lunch some-"
The vox channel closed and Vownus bit back a sigh.
A snort echoed beside him.
Vownus turned to face his closest companion, even as waves of fire belched down the corridors ahead.
"Something to add, Corporal?"
Junix scoffed and waved away the man's blatant irritation, "I find your determination commendable is all, my Inquisitor"
"I find your determination commendable" Vownus repeated in a childishly high tone of voice, "it didn't sound like a commendation"
Jun did not flater under the glare, instead turning his smiling focus to the small list inscribed on a tablet before him.
Vownus huffed, but also didn't prevent the little smile from creeping onto his face.
His gaze was naturally drawn to the bouts of fire and immolation that blossomed ahead of him in the maintenance corridor.
Such as it had been in many sections of the Tempests Advance the past week.
Aethod had assisted Vownus in designating areas of the ship that the guard would purge with fire and vigilance, and now they were finally seeing through with the final few spaces.
It was an all around grand effort to get even a smaller ship such as the Tempest efficiently searched from top to bottom within as short a time as a week.
Vownus had even enlisted his favorite Squad of Guardsmen with the last area of deck Six.
As he and Jun monitored from afar, Kado and Brander wielded two repurposed Hades flamers under the careful and guarded gaze of Fuelip and Halliday. They would scour and scorch every nook and cranny of this tunnel, only asking for permission in case of intricate or critical systems that lay between them and the darkened corners of the corridor.
"I suppose you take me for a fool" Vownus muttered, "for even trying"
"For trying?" Jun looked up, "no"
They lapsed back into silence.
Jun was making notes on the paper.
Vownus crossed his arms over his chest.
And they remained like this as the flames licked the corridor beyond their vision.
"For trying with the Captain thought, I-"
Vownus swung his booted foot toward Jun's shin.
The Corporal chuckled as he swept back, a happy smile on his face even as he continued to tick off and mark certain boxes on his list.
Vownus huffed, but didn't attempt to strike at the man a second time.
"If I may, Inquisitor?"
"Vownus"
Jun blinked in confusion, looking up at the man as Inquisitor Kaede repeated his name.
The pointed hat of the witch hunter turned towards him.
"We've been working alongside one another for long enough, Jun. You should know by now that may address me by my name in circumstances such as this"
The hat and the eyes beneath its black brim faced forward again, focusing on the corridor ahead.
"Vownus" Jun said again, getting the man's direct attention once more.
"Why do you… hmmm, how should I put this…"
Vownus raised an eyebrow at him.
Jun finally settled on his word choice.
"You act so carefree and young at times, seemingly ignorant to the harshness that exists around us. I have been under your command for a long time now Vownus, and for the life of me cannot fathom how you maintain such a… a…"
"Sense of positivity?"
Jun nodded at that assessment, "I suppose"
Vownus scoffed once, his eyes going back to the cleansing fire before the two of them, "you ask me why I am the person I am"
Jun said nothing to this.
His question was still unanswered, and it hung between the two of them in the bare silence.
Vownus elaborated after a moment of slight contemplation.
"I worked for a Rogue Trader, once upon a time… By the Emperor that was long ago" he smiled at an errant thought, before continuing abruptly.
"Managed to make a small name for myself, a few adventures here and there, far too long a story for you to be interested in my dear Jun. But my deeds did not go unnoticed"
Vownus tapped his hat once.
"I was approached by an agent of the Inquisition. But not the Ordo Hereticus"
"You were a Xenos hunter first," Jun nodded, having recalled a few times associates details had come up.
"Indeed" Vownus smiled, "cut my teeth there. Learnt how horrible things can really be once it comes down to a fight. How important it was for the Inquisition to fulfill its duties. The Ordo Xenos showed me how losing billions can save trillions, a lesson that I took a lot longer to learn then most"
Vownus rolled a stiff shoulder, relaxing himself into the so far one sided conversation.
"But by then I was an empty shell. A husk of a being compared to my former humanity. When I began to realize what I was… well, my latent talent allowed me to shift between the Ordo's."
He breathed a sigh of relief, his gaze clouding as memories bristiled before his vision.
"In all my time alive, I've seen things that would drive you mad. I've battled monsters that would make you soil yourself in fear. I've been tempted by forces that could make kill anyone you ever cared for or knew"
Vownus smiled. It was bitter but still positive.
"And through it all, I refused to be corrupted by it. I refused to let anything I've witnessed, or the enemies I've defeated, destroy me"
"Destroy you?" Jun repeated, "but you won. Whatever you faced, you have lived to tell the tale, thus they did not-?"
"To live through a battle is one thing. A feat of physical strength to be sure. But to retain the person you still are even after experiencing such adversity, without compromising what you believe and who you are… that is another kind of strength entirely" Vownus refined his explanation.
He smiled at Jun.
"I've always been a positive person. I've always liked to flirt with pretty women. I've always liked to ruffle feathers and get a good laugh out of a crowd"
A call from Haylay got the monitoring duo's attention.
Vownus raised an arm in a wave of a response, taking a single step in their direction before turning back to face Jun for a moment.
"Such traits make me human, Jun. I would, and will not, abandon them without good reason"
And he strode off toward whatever it was that Haylay had signaled them for.
Once again peeps, sorry this took so damn long. I felt like I'd have this finished in days, not months. But such is the creative process. Especially when all that shit with GW went down, and I saw a lot of the things that gave me creative inspiration die out. It frustrates me to see how big wigs and corporate executies get the final say on how the 40k Ip should be treated. People who make decisions based off sales rather then content. Like anyone wants to see more ultrasmurfs again and again.
Bleh. I'm still bitter TTS is gone for now.
But yeah, the Mortal Son is back. I'm only now beginning to realise the true scope of this tale, and exactly what I have to do in order to get it where I want it to be. That being said, even thought I retreat into my darkened den to converse with the voices of chaos in order to develop this damn thing, I still value your voices. Your thoughts.
All the reviews and love is fantastic.
Hopefully I'll see y'all soon for the next chapter.
May the God Emperor smile upon you,
Love y'all,
Freedom