AN: Yikes. So found some time between my work shifts to do a few sections at a time. Took me a loooooong ass time to edit all of this, but here it is. I hope y'all enjoy it! More at the bottom.
As the battling in Hive Primaris began to close in upon its Central Fortress, Andoa Paxat found her life slowly becoming a hurricane of loss reports. And not just because of the fighting in Hive Primaris, but because the Ork Forces across the globe had seemingly all stepped up to the plate simultaneously.
While she wasn't responsible for the direct orders for the defense of the other Hive cities, she still received their reports and communication.
As such, she had received the word that Hive Secundus had been lost. Down to the last man. What few scouts the Imperials could afford to remain within the mountain ranges had reported that the Ork horde responsible for the fall of Secundus, was now mobilizing. They looked to be heading toward Hive Primaris.
The current numbers of Orks was already proving difficult to handle… another massive influx would be the tightening of the noose.
'As if it is not taught already' Andoa grimaced to herself, taking a second to reevaluate the active Holo display of the Fortress.
Scanning each individual node and reporting position displayed against every level of the Fortresses layout, the Governor tallied up each position that was crucial to their defense.
The walls. That meant the continued surface of the walls.
The gatehouses, the gates and the Gun Batteries. Imperial Forces were deeply entrenched with regards to those positions. They'd hold off for far longer than the outer Gate could have.
Each Gate would stand, until the damn Ork's began to deploy their giant mech's again.
Tanker crews that still manned the outer positions of the Wall's had begun to report that Ork Heavy Vehicles had started to begin appearing. That meant the larger ones wouldn't be far off. The only thing slowing them down would be the density of the Hab Blocks. But they weren't indestructible. The collapsing of the Causeways had bought the Imperial defenses time… but eventually the Ork's would clear another pathway, and come at them from an entirely new-
The Governor's eyes glanced a section lower, her eyes carefully evaluating the segment responsible for displaying Balor's Tunnel system.
'What if… what if the Ork's found the Tunnels?'
No. The Tunnel teams would have reported a hostile force, they would have noticed a large number-
'But what if it wasn't a large number… what if a small, highly specialised-'
The Governor's heart was beating heavily as her eyes shot up.
Vownus had warned of this, he had warned them all that the Ork's were not a species that should be underestimated.
They were primitive and devolved… but that did not mean they were harmless, or predictable.
"Raise Tunnel Security! I want an immediate Status Report!"
A Communications Officer closest to her immediately complied with her order.
"This is Actual, Tunnel Security check in, over"
Only the crackling of the Vox receiver returned to them. Many around the room, who had been listening the moment the Governor issued the concerned command, slowly turned to look at the Communications Officer.
"Tunnel Security!" the Officer barked, "Check in, over!"
Static.
The Governor immediately stood straight up, her hand finding its way to her service weapon.
"Arm yourselves!" she shouted to the room, eyes immediately locking onto the nearest of the earthen passages, "now!"
Her second bark managed to get the entire room scrambling for weapons.
"Contact the surface, tell them we need a detachment down here immediately!"
The Comms officer lifted the Vox caster, his mouth a moment away from delivering the command.
KRAKK!
His head was blown clean off.
The Governor saw the muzzle flash, she saw how the darkness of the tunnel was briefly shattered to reveal the being that stood there.
It was an Ork.
Dressed head to toe in segmented armor, its Green skin managed to slightly peak through the gaps. But its snarling maw dominated a face that sported a helmet with extended optical features…
'Special Forces… Ork Special Forces, just like Vownus said-'
The Governor wasn't the first person to return fire, but she quickly joined the battle that now erupted within the Imperial Command bunker.
Shouts and cries of Imperial fury and surprise exploded outward, the fervor of her soldiers suddenly coming to a pinnacle.
Even as the fighting suddenly grew thick, Andoa kept a hold of her weapon. Her other hand drifted down to the small single button device she kept by her side.
"Get on the Vox!" Andoa shouted out, bracing briefly as a few Ork bullets pinged off her nearby surroundings.
They had to call for reinforcements. The Ork's had breached Balor's tunnel systems. Even with some of these collapsed passages, somehow they'd found a clear vein that they could traverse…
One that had led the Greenskins right into the beating heart of the Imperial defense.
If they were overrun, the Ork's would have a straight shot up into the fortress. No matter how long it may take for an Imperial element on the surface to notice the sudden Vox-silence, it would be a disaster.
The Vox-
A Sergeant had lunged for the device, swiftly coming out of cover in order to reach it. Even though the man was able to drag the equipment out of the line of fire, a section of his torso was blown off in his effort.
His corpse slumped over the Vox Caster.
Around the room, the Imperials were dying.
There were ten meters between her and the device.
The Governor broke out into a sprint, her sole focus remaining on the device and what she had to do.
Eight meters away.
Blood thundered in her veins and her ears. It was as if the world slowed, time stretching out across eons for her to witness.
Six meters away.
So close…. She could see the Caster's activation controls, she knew how to operate it.
Four meters away.
Pain erupted in her leg. The Governor's arm stretched out as she toppled forward.
The shot had severed the limb.
Andoa Paxat collapsed onto the blood stricken ground, two meters away from the Vox Caster and the body that protected it.
And so she crawled, agony tracing itself through her body as her stump leg protested.
A meter away, lungs burning and eyesight vividly bright, the Vox Caster was blown to smithereens.
The Ork responsible, was the same that had taken her leg.
It was toying with her, the final surviving Imperial soul now within the bunker, the last of Andoa's Guards having been dealt with only seconds before.
It enjoyed watching the dying Humie struggle.
But it would never come to regret letting the human live for even a few moments more.
Andoa realized she didn't have any other choice now.
With the Vox caster destroyed, she had no way of immediately warning the Surface of the Fortress. She couldn't leave it to chance.
Andoa Paxat knew she needed to stop this incursion.
And she only had one last option to do so.
Even as her heart thudded painfully in her chest, even as images of her family, her love… their child….
Her hand coiled around the device by her side.
The detonator.
Determination and grit suffused her. A wroth built within her heart, a dreadful fury directed out to anything that could hear her.
Andoa Paxat uttered her final words amongst the living.
And the quietly whispered words of a brave soul were heard by none that would care for them. None would know of the fervor in her heart, the steel of her will, even in her final moments.
"For Balor"
And she softly pressed her finger down upon the detonator.
Suddenly, the Fortress shook.
Men and women of the Imperial Guard were flung off their feet, many of them injuring themselves to various degrees in the violent motion that rattled their very surroundings.
Many of the Astartes managed to keep their feet however. Most but not all.
Lord Grimblood, now positioned within the Gate house of the Southern Causeway, was one such individual that remained standing.
His head instantly spun toward the source of the explosion.
He clicked between his Legion's Vox network and the Imperial command channel.
It was an audible chaos.
"-AGAIN! SAY AGAIN! STRUCTURAL COLLAPSE AT-!"
"KZZZZZZZZZZT!-"
"-fuck was that!? A blast came from-!"
"-COMMAND? COME IN IMPERIAL COMMAND! THIS-"
Lord Grimblood exerted his authority, his voice blanketing every panicked report, alarm and command with a simple word.
"This is Wolf Lord Kjarl Grimblood. I am now in command of the defense of Hive Primaris. All Imperial Elements hold your positions and maintain martial competence. The enemy will be upon us shortly"
Kjarl knew what had happened.
His mind pieced it together as soon as he noticed that the Vox line to Imperial Command had been severed.
There was only one conclusion.
Andoa Paxat was dead.
"All Base Commanders will report to me directly within five standard minutes, I will dispense orders regarding the clean up and containment of the enemy's strike. Take heart, warriors of Balor. This is where we hold the line. For Balor. For the Emperor!"
He clicked off the Vox channel, his gaze briefly looking around at all the mortal orderlies and officers that were staring at him.
Each of them had heard the blanketed Vox chatter as it played over every Imperial channel.
"Back to your posts" Kjarl nodded to them all, his attention immediately turning toward the Outer City.
The Orks were swarming over and through the Outer Wall, amassing in great numbers between all the Habblock's and structures. Soon they would come for the wall.
And the Space Wolves would be glad to meet them.
"Maintain course!" Captain Olivina roared.
The Tempests Advance was under fire and utilizing its slight frame and better maneuverability to evade the worst of the Ork rocket barrages.
Their primitive weaponry was crude, but if enough struck their target then they'd go up in flames.
While the Tempests Advance continued to duck and weave through space, Ork Vessels on its heel, the Space Wolf battle Barge soaked up much of the Ork interest.
The heavily armed and armored vessel was capable of dealing out tones of punishment as well as receiving vicious retaliation. But they too followed the course that Captain Olivina had set. They couldn't remain still without allowing themselves to be set upon by the much larger Ork Voidcraft following behind their smaller kin.
"Incoming!"
The vessel shook.
"Report!"
"Greenskin Vessels are appearing from the other side of the moon Captain! They've wrapped around from the other side!"
"Adjust bearing!" The Captain quickly commanded, uttering the order as she quickly calculated the change in direction.
"Bring us about, 63 degrees! Contact the Axe of Russ!"
"Adjusting!" a voice clamored back.
The Vox crackled as Olivina felt the ship turn sharply.
"Enemy are adjusting as well, Captain, they're-"
The sudden silence from the comms officer drew the Captain's immediate attention.
"Report Officer!"
"Captain!" the man shook himself, but reaffirmed the readout he had processed, "the enemy are turning away!"
….
What?
"This is the Axe of Russ. Tempests Advance, the enemy are retreating. What is your status?"
Captain Olivina was at a loss for words. Confirmations reports and affirmations sounded without the room. The enemy were retreating. They'd given up their chase-
No.
No this had to be a trap of some kind.
A trick.
"Axe of Russ, we're going to try and get a bead on whatever the Ork's are up to, over. Do you require any assistance in repairs?"
A huff crackled through the vox.
"We have not sustained any damage that we are incapable of fixing ourselves, Captain Olivina. We will move to support you as soon as we are able, over"
The channel clicked off.
"Lodias!" the Captain barked, "How far can we expand the range of our Auger array?!"
"Ma'am" the man replied, "while behind the planetoid we cannot discern much. Only a handful of kilometers at most!"
Then they needed to get clear, quickly.
"Cancel the course change, get clear of the moon!"
Either the Ork's were up to something…
"Aye Captain!"
Or…
The ship began to turn
Olivina couldn't help it. But even as she stifled her hope, her mind couldn't help but think. Because while it was indeed possible that the Greenskins could be up to something.
They'd been on the ropes.
She knew it.
Once the larger Ork vessels were within firing range, they wouldn't stand a chance. It didn't matter how fast they were, the sheer amount of ballistic fire was unavoidable.
No matter how dumb Olivina believed the Ork's to be, even they had to be aware of this. Or that didn't even matter. Because the one thing an Ork truly craves is battle, regardless of where it takes place.
And so Olivina couldn't help but think…
They were only two ships. A small consideration in the grand scheme of Void combat, what could get the Ork vessels to suddenly pull away from them.
"Clearing the plantoid's disturbance, Captain! The Auger array is expanding!"
Something else had gotten their attention.
The Vox Caster for their ship suddenly crackled on.
"Imperial Vessel, identify yourself"
The Captain, gestured to Lodias, "connect the Axe of Russ" before flicking on her own Vox caster and speaking back to the voice.
"Tempests Advance, Balorian Assault Cruiser, this is Captain Olivina speaking"
"Captain Thors, of the Space Wolf Battle Barge, the Axe of Russ"
The room was silent after the two declarations were made to the powerful, yet human voice that had addressed them.
And then the voice spoke.
"I am Pedro Kantor, Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists Space Marine legion. Take heart, friends, help has arrived"
And the Auger Array finally connected with what all the Ork vessels were barreling toward.
The Captain could see clearly.
This was a much bigger enemy for the Greenskins to jump at.
"Enemy vessels are lifting off from Orbit Captain!"
The Orks were spooling for a fight.
But they knew they needed more ships.
This was no insignificant foe that had arrived at Balor.
An Astartes fleet now lay at Balor's doorstep.
And now the second Orbital war was about to begin.
Balor's anti-air guns still boomed in the distance.
The sky was beginning to fill with aerial dog fights, Ork ships and Imperial craft clashing intermittently throughout the hazy air.
Germael kept his attention forward and beyond, each building himself and the remaining Astral Knights passing, no longer remaining his concern.
They, and their small Imperial contingent, were making a good pace toward the Central Fortress. The Dark Angels had broken off from them some time ago, the three of them having remained behind at some long distant point. Germael had attempted to persuade them to remain alongside them, but they could not be convinced. They had even closed off the Vox channel established between the two groups of Space Marines.
…that, or the Connection had been externally damaged somehow.
Although the Vox had been suffering connection issues, Raduriel had been able to confirm that the Central Gate was still open and accepting allied troops.
But not for long.
"The pathways widen" Aethod stated with a surreal undertone "we are close to the gate, Chapter Master"
"Indeed, Brother" Germael automatically replied. His mouth opened to say more, but a quick glance at the Librarian told him to mind his words.
Aethod's expression, while schooled, was troubled.
Whatever had gone down between the youth, Lucian, and the Inquisitor…. Germael didn't know what had happened, but whatever it was had affected Aethod.
And not for the better.
Germael decided to tread lightly.
"Vownus is capable. He will handle it"
Aethod's frown deepened by a hair, his eyes still fixed on the path ahead of them.
"That… I have to accept that as truth now, Chapter Master"
Germael felt the ice in the comment, the cool chill of disappointment that Aethod refused to blatantly spew.
"Can you explain to me, in any way I may be able to understand, what just happened?"
Startled, Aethod turned to him, "Brother?"
Germael felt his expression ease.
Even before he spoke, he realized something that annoyed him only slightly.
…Vownus' irritable yet amicable manner was beginning to rub off on him.
"I know it was a… Warp, situation, Aethod. What ever happened, what ever you felt… please, explain it to me"
The Librarian grew silent. His face turned back to the path, his mind likely retreating in upon itself.
He seemed stern, yet clearly reserved.
Perhaps that hadn't been the best-
"It is like… the energies of the Warp are akin to water. It may be warm, or it may be cold. It can touch you slightly, or you may be submerged in it. You may swim amongst it. But you can drown. You can boil, and you can freeze"
Germael listened with enraptured silence as Aethod quietly explained.
"It is more than this. But that is the closest approximation. And using this analogy, as Vownus warned me away, I felt fire…"
Aethod's expression slowly shifted into something else.
Germael had seen it on the faces of Mortal's… but it was a rare sight amongst Space Marines.
Fear.
Aethod was afraid.
"An all consuming inferno was building, and I was… I was helpless to-"
He shook his head.
"Vownus was right to send me away. The… this fire was beginning to affect me. Even now I feel its tendrils…"
"And the source of the fire was the boy. Lucian" Germael succinctly stated.
Aethod just nodded.
Germael thought for a moment.
But rather than state the morbidly obvious, he settled on what his gut was telling him.
"Vownus can handle it"
And Germael believed what he said. Because time and time again the Inquisitor proved to be a reliable, yet painfully jubilant, man. A Psyker, yes, but a good man.
A trustworthy soul that did everything it could to do the best it possibly could.
And Germael knew this.
A comfortable silence held between the two until the path ahead of them widened once more, and the Hab blocks no longer dominated the view beside their jogging numbers.
Absorbing the sight ahead of them was the Wall of the Inner Fortress, the great defensive work of Steel and Weaponry lingering long into the horizon on their left and right peripherals. The loud booming guns that perched atop segments of the wall constantly spewed high velocity materials into the air and sky beyond, their deafening shots cracking loudly against the other mingling sounds of the war torn city.
The stretch of pathway that lay in front of the Wall was massive in both width and length, enough that great crowds of people or vehicles could swarm in either direction.
Looking to his left, Germael was able to spot a few hundred meters away the first signs of makeshift Imperial bunkers and defensive fortifications that lingered on the pathway.
Beyond them was their destination, the gate into the inner Fortress.
"Raduriel" Germael ordered over his shoulder, "make contact with Imperial Command, inform them-"
A great rumbling roar exploded in the distance.
Instinctively, Germael and his Knights turned to look behind them. But this far away sound didn't reveal itself instantly.
A great shape appeared in the far off sky, a clearly distinguishable sight that was joined by many others of its like.
It was the Ork voidcraft that had landed on Balor.
Some of them, but a fair number, were beginning to take off…
"By the Emperor!" one of the Guardsmen, the one called Vartic, shouted out, "the bloody Greenskins are buggering off?!"
And it seemed as such.
Germael's keen gaze shot to the sky beyond.
His enhanced eyesight was only barely able to make it out… but he was certain of what he was able to only slightly discern.
The flash of orbital detonations… gigantic void explosions…
"Raduriel" Aethod barked urgently, "patch me through to Imperial Command"
Germael turned his head to the rest of his cohorts.
"We make for the gate! Hurry!"
He turned and broke out into a swift jog… for an Astartes at least, the Guardsmen would be forced to sprint.
As he ran, the vox in his ear turned to static for a few moments as his connection was shifted to the Imperial network, rather than the one between himself and his Brother's.
Once the static cleared away, a familiar voice spoke to him.
"Captain Germael, what is your situation?"
That was the Wolf Lord…
"Lord Grimblood" Germael returned, "my Brother's and I are returning to the Fortress now. The Inquisitor is remaining outside the wall. We seek rearmament and ordnance before executing new orders. Has Imperial Command begun to conduct defensive operations?"
The Chapter Master knew the Astral Knights needed to get control of whatever tasking they were given immediately. There was little time before the Ork's began amassing in force. Even with some of their ships leaving the surface of Balor to combat whatever had appeared in Space, there were more than enough still planetside to pose a serious risk to-
"Governor Andoa Paxat and the rest of Balor's High Command is dead. I have taken control of Imperial defenses for Hive Primaris. My legion holds each key position amongst the wall, but you and your Brother's would do well to help reinforce any point… I suppose you might have questions, Knight."
What.
"How?"
Grimblood sighed across the Vox, "I can only assume that the Ork's managed to breach one of Balor's remaining tunnels. They brought explosives to the heart of command bunker, and then detonated them"
No.
"We have lost communication with the other Hives then, Lord Grimblood?"
"The furthest ones, yes. We've managed to contact those closest to us that still remain in Imperial Control. The Orbital situation is a new development, but so far we cannot get a signal beyond the Ork armada"
Terrible news, but one with a potential glimmer of hope.
Perhaps reinforcements had arrived…
But short of a fleet of Astartes or even a grand Imperial Fleet, the number of Ork vessels would not be easily dealt with.
Germael and Co were almost upon the Imperial Defenses, the faces of Guardsmen patrolling back and forth slowly coming into clear view for the augmented Astartes eyesight.
The Chapter Master thought as he contemplated Kjarl Grimblood's words.
His eyes glanced toward the hab blocks beside him before settling on the defenders of the Central gate.
Groupings of Tanks were clustered around and within the defensive perimeter of the gate.
A possible idea struck him.
"Lord Grimblood"
"Yes Captain?"
"The Space Wolves hold all key positions along the wall. I presume the Guard has been tasked with reinforcing your Brethren"
"Aye"
Germael took a slight breath to calm himself before speaking again.
"The Imperial divisions currently deployed to protect the Gate, I would ask you to relinquish control of them to myself."
Kjarl Grimblood now went silent, his keen mind likely trying to find to the purpose of Germael's request.
And he found it. But he wished to be certain. And so he asked, "you wish to go on the offensive?"
"The wall will be held. I trust the Space Wolves to do this. But upon my Honor, as Chapter Master of the Astral Knights, I can buy you more time, Wolf Lord. Perhaps time enough for the whatever is in Orbit to make an appearance"
Kjarl prodded the suggestion.
"We do not yet know if it is indeed an ally that has arrived… Chapter Master. Would you risk your legion to chance?"
Germael's expression tightened.
"This War already has put my Legion at Risk, Lord Grimblood. I must hope that we can now fight for our salvation, instead of hoping for a mere chance"
Kjarl Grimblood thought for another silent minute.
Germael reached the nearest trenchline, the Guardsmen within eyesight of them saluting him and his approaching Brothers.
"Very well, Chapter Master. I shall spare all I can to aid you in this effort. They will heed your command as if it were my own…. Dorn would have proud to know his Son's still carry their duty with such admirable will"
"Chapter Master, the Xenos Voidcraft have begun their approach"
"What of their formation"
"Crude, Chapter Master, a staggered line. They outnumber us, twelve to one"
"Very well. Open a Fleet wide Broadcast, Helrig"
"At once, Chapter Master"
The Vox clicked once.
"All Battleships, once you are within range, open fire. Burn their mongrel Xenos hides. Cruisers, find what pockets you can, your objective is to begin deploying relief forces upon Balor. For Dorn and the Emperor!"
Neoth's presence did indeed possess a connection to the Warp.
Lucian could feel it.
But it was the same way that he sensed the presence of Caius, Lynwood, Zeke or Vartic… this was but a simple man that stood before him. Or a devious trickster…
With a little reluctance, the youth decided to speak with the stranger.
"I'm Lucian"
"A pleasure to meet you, Lucian" the large figure held out a hand to the youth.
They shook.
"It's… nice to meet you too, Neoth" the young Psyker replied somewhat shakily. He didn't even know where to begin, but he was fairly certain about his predicament.
He'd been killed.
Again.
The youth took a second to glance around at the unfamiliar landscape before looking back up to the man standing before him.
"This isn't some kind of… soul meeting, or a place within the Immaterium, is it?"
The moment Lucian spoke the question, he realized how pointless any answer given would be rendered by his suspicion. Frankly, he wasn't really sure why he had even bothered to speak in the first place, knowing that he was weary of his current circumstances.
Maybe because Lucian felt the need to speak… felt the need to say something? To grasp straws at whatever truth he could receive…
Or maybe it was because this being, 'Neoth', seemed to be a cheerful person.
If he was a person.
Neoth's grin became a hair more pronounced.
"A strange question indeed, Lucian. A question which I do not have an answer for"
"Right" Lucian frowned somewhat, "I was kinda hoping for a yes or no though"
Neoth smiled with a humorous grace, gesturing around to the river and the trees, "your question is twofold, Lucian, and thus deserves two answers. Both of which differ from one another. This is not the Immaterium that surrounds us, but Terra"
Lucian's jaw almost dropped.
Suddenly he couldn't keep his eyes off the world around him, his sight devouring the vast forests, mountains, rivers, the sky the-
"But a meeting between souls?" Neoth's words slowly filtered in through his ear, "when one person meets another, would that not be a meeting between souls?"
"No no" Lucian waved his hands in front of him as he tried to get precise with his language "not like that. When two Psykers meet- or a Psyker and a Warp entity are- okay, I don't know if regular people can connect with-"
Lucian cut his ramble off, frustratedly glaring at the ground.
The entire time, Neoth favored him with the same resonating smile.
"I'm sorry, I'm not sure how to explain it to a non-Psyker" Lucian shrugged pathetically.
"Well" Neoth looked beyond the youth, his eyes cast out to somewhere far down the river, "I am needed somewhere, Lucian, and must continue on my way"
He looked back to the youth.
"If you would like to, could you accompany me to my destination and try to explain your question on the way?"
Lucian looked around for a moment, trying and failing to spot anything that might give away this whole situation as some kind of ruse or trap.
Finding nothing glaringly obvious or subtly sinister threats, he glanced up at Neoth and gave his response.
"I have more questions. I'd like for them to be answered"
Neoth chuckled, gesturing to the path beside the river bank, "all I can promise you is that I shall do my best"
A thought tugged at Lucian's mind.
"Wait wait. Hang on. You said this is…" he gestured around him, "this is Terra. Not the Immaterium… you know what the Immaterium is?"
Neoth began walking, answering Lucian's question as he slowly began to step away. The youth was forced to quickly step after him, hurriedly coming alongside the man as they walked down the bank of the river.
"I know of it" Neoth hummed, his eyes laid upon the path ahead of them, "and I know of what it was, before it became known as the Warp"
A spark of intrigue lightened up Lucian's thoughts.
"So you're a Psyker?"
Neoth favored him with a light smile, "I would say so. But many have referred to me with another title"
Title.
Lucian eyed the taller man for a quiet minute, his thoughts mulling over the person next to him having another 'title'. A name used in place of his real one.
Daemons were tricky creatures.
Magnus had said as much.
If this was all a charade in order to gain his trust or something, Lucian wasn't going to let himself be blindsided.
But with far less appealing options than simply walking beside someone down a river bank, Lucian continued to talk with the man.
"I was fighting before I woke up here. I died. The last time this happened I met someone in the Warp that I… wasn't expecting"
Neoth said nothing in response.
Silence bloomed between them.
Somehow though, it was a decidedly uncomfortable silence that the youth felt.. Lucian didn't like how the man had gone quiet on him.
"Look, if you don't believe me-"
"No" Neoth cut right over him, his voice still polite and magnanimous as he calmly reaffirmed Lucian, "I do believe you"
" I see…" Neoth looked up to the clouds, "this is not the Immaterium as you know it, Lucian. But it would seem the Realm of Souls has brought you here… at my behest…"
The man kept his gaze to the sky, his eyes lost in thought as Lucian processed what he had just been told by Neoth.
"What?"
The youth was completely confused.
Neoth laughed, a loud and jovial noise.
"My apologies, Lucian. My thoughts wandered off without permission. But it is also fair to say that my mind has been a touch… fractured, for sometime now"
Neoth spoke with a broad and overlapping voice, and while the words could be construed as some form of dishonest camouflage for his real intentions, the fact that he had shared his ailment with such warmth and honesty radiating from him…
"I would like to correct myself from before, and say that this" Neoth gestured between the two of them, "is indeed a meeting between two souls, taking place outside of the Warp"
A clear answer.
But it left more questions in its wake.
"So where is here? Why am I here? Who are you to bring me here?"
Neoth stopped walking abruptly, Lucian taking a second longer to realize his temporary companion had halted before stopping as well.
"A Domain, formed in the Realm of Souls"
The youth narrowed his eyes. He didn't have a fucking clue what that meant, but Neoth suddenly seemed a little more suspicious than before.
However the man still held that same air of friendly confidence and honest intrigue.
"And why am I here?"
"Because you share a connection to this Domain and its Creator"
Lucian wanted to shout in frustration and rage. Because he didn't want to pointlessly continue down this useless line of questioning, slowly being corralled toward the right question by 'Neoth' before everything turned to shit.
So he took a more hostile but direct approach.
"Let me guess. You're the creator of this 'domain'"
Neoth nodded.
"And what connection do we share then?"
Neoth's smile was grand.
His expression was happy.
"I'm glad to have finally met you properly, Lucian" a hand came to his shoulder. The youth didn't fight against it.
"You're everything I had hoped you would be, Son"
They beat a steady jog through the darkened backways of the Hive City Habblocks, the two of them keeping to a dead set pace as they ventured into regions of the Hive now swarming with Orks.
Lynwood and Caius were being as careful as they could be.
Direct conflict with any Ork Forces was not a guaranteed outcome in their favor, and thus they opted to attempt an increased sense of discretion.
Should they come across a fight before they reached their objective… so be it.
Until then, they moved with a necessary silence, their boot stomps and breathing only broken up by Caius's attempts to hail the Vownus on the Vox.
"Lord Inquisitor. This is Agents Decelus and Helix, are you out there?"
Only the sound of a dead crackle hit them.
"Damn it" Caius couldn't help but hiss.
"Easy" Lynwood rumbled over his shoulder at his closely following ally, attempting to calm him before offering a possible suggestion as to why the Vox failed to function "there could be interference"
"On the Command Channels? Never!" Caius furiously denied, "what the fuck is-"
They had just rounded a corner when Lynwood abruptly came to a stop, instantly dropping to one knee behind an exposed pipe.
With Cover acquired, his eyes set forward on the small pack of Orks milling about ahead of them.
These five or so creatures were just standing there, clearly in the open for the two Arbites to see. Of course they snarled and bickered amongst one another, but their static position and sudden appearance before them had caught Lynwood off guard.
His instincts had kicked in as soon as he made visual contact with the enemy.
Aiming forward with his weapon, Lynwood picked his first target with a simple decision, his gun adjusting toward-
A red bolt placed itself right between the furthest Ork's eyes, a second one following shortly after to its neck.
In a heartbeat, Caius had immediately opened up upon the beasts.
Lynwood dropped the one he was focused upon, the beast's head and suddenly surprised expression suddenly vanished in a shower of blood and cranial matter as the round struck true.
By now, the other Greenskins were just coming to terms with the death of the first of their kin that had died.
One more fell, courtesy of Caius, before the last two turned toward their attackers.
The beast's fired indiscriminately into the pathway, their rounds ricocheting all around the two agents.
In unison, the final two Ork's met a swift end, the successful Imperial's quickly running forth to take stock of their enemy and be certain all were dead.
"Good shot" Lynwood observed, reloading his Bolt Pistol with clean and effective movements. His eyes cast over to Caius for a second before he quickly examined all of the slain Xenos.
"Your aim has improved much from what it once was before" the former Arbite admitted, his attention returning to the now cleared Path they wished to traverse.
Their enemy had been dealt with.
The mission continued.
Caius took a moment to process the words as Lynwood began to jog off, but quickly followed after the elder man.
He also couldn't prevent himself from following up with a clarifying reply.
"I'm not certain, but I think what you said just now contained some essential components that constitute a compliment? Or I'm just hearing things"
Lynwood turned back to face him.
"Merely a fact that-"
His eyes suddenly grew wide.
Lynwood's physical arm brutally shoved Caius aside as he brought his Bolt Pistol to bear once more.
An Ork was behind them, it's weapon raised in their direction-
There had been six?
One had played dead?
Lynwood didn't get to really wonder why the beast was there, because he had to deal with the truth of the matter.
It was standing there with a weapon ready in hand.
His sights aligned with the beast's head.
Both fired.
Kjarl Grimblood had spared no expense to fortify Germael's plan.
The entirety of Balor's remaining armored division had been given over to the Astral Knight's command. Alongside the armored vehicles came specially selected infantry units hailing from both Balor and the Inquisitor's 501st Guardsmen, the Wolf Lord had also let loose twenty of his own legion. With a brief review of his forces, the Chapter Master of the Astral Knights had quickly formed a stratagem with the Grimblood's input and approval.
His first order had been to divide the divisions into multiple Squads, with control of each of the 83 squads to be divided amongst the Astral Knights or the Space Wolves. Every Astartes was to operate without their brethren, each a master of their pocket of combat with their Emperor given Authority.
Many of the Astartes were paired alongside one of the Imperial Armored Vehicles, but with the tanks numbers running a hair shorter than the now 2 strong Astartes, not every one of the Emperor's finest had the luxury of a tank they could personally command and utilize.
But Germael knew of the value of an Astartes.
Each Space Marine could not also be beholden to the protection of the tank while simultaneously dictating lightning strike assaults against the enemy.
No, the position each warrior needed to fill was of a dynamic and fluid nature.
So each tank roughly saw a squad or two of Guardsmen entrusted alongside them, each Squad's Sergeant and Tank commander directly reporting to their higher officers placed amongst their number, who then reported to the Adeptus Astartes they were assigned to.
Germael had certainly not wished to split his remaining Brothers apart, but knew that necessity was all that mattered now.
Time was to be their victory condition, and so the more time they bought for Hive Primaris the better. /the Chapter Master knew that the strength of himself, his Knights and the Space Wolves must be equally divided.
And the Guard had needed to be divided as well.
Germael had spoken briefly with each Astartes, seeking a measure of the person before assigning them a selection of forces.
He had been as fair as he could have been, given what he knew and what he had to take with honest acceptance.
Germael had not fought any Space Wolf on their brief explanation of their own skills, taking every word as sacrosanct before briefly explaining his plan and providing the Wolves with their Imperial Component and orders.
With what was left, Germael had thought of his Brothers briefly before dividing up what remained.
For his own kin, the Chapter Master knew the power of his Brother's intimately.
Aethod commanded the least number of Squads, one of which had been the surviving members of Romeo Squad. The reduction of numbers given to Aethod was only short by a hair, as his duty was set toward the recently abandoned eastern section and was likely lacking in the recently arrived Ork Forces. Besides, his Psyker abilities were equivalent to the might of many Tank's, and the destructive capability such vehicles could offer would be better served elsewhere.
Ork Forces were reported to have concentrated heavily in the Western sections, so Raduriel, Rhamine and Dominius led the majority of heavy vehicles and infantry toward those sections.
They were to make contact with the enemy in brief engagements, favoring to pull back to a further position if the fighting began to draw out. Not to mention locating and destroying any enemy fortification or constructions.
The jamming modules the Ork's had deployed before were a secondary concern in regards to the true concern of Germael's plan.
Swift and crucial victories were the meat and bones of this tactic. Should Ork forces seek to chase, they could use the pathways of the Hive city Habblocks to lure them into another squad.
Constant communication would be key.
The Astartes would be attempting to draw the fastest victories or the largest number of Orks, and as such their presence would be demanded in many places.
Only a singular group of Guardsmen would be assigned to each Marine to manage communications between all the Imperial Forces and the Emperor's finest. Only a team that was significantly vetted to be physically and effectively capable of keeping up with the Space Marine.
Now, it wasn't possible for any mortal to truly match pace with an Astartes, but even an Astartes 'jogging' was a sprint for many men and women.
It would be a tough feat to be certain, but the Vox was the lifeline of this offensive and it needed to be maintained with clear cohesion.
And Germael knew his Brothers were not omniscient… baring perhaps Aethod, but they didn't all have eyes in the back of their head.
Their senses, no matter how highly advanced, could not catch everything.
Germael knew well enough that just because a mortal human wasn't as strong or as fast as an Astral Knight or a Space Wolf, did not mean they were lesser.
Sometimes the greatest of victories could come from the most unassuming of people.
After all, the Chapter Master had been saved but one such mortal before, a figure that was accompanying himself and his own squads down the southern pathways of the city.
Kilo Squad, from Inquisitor Kaede's 501st legion, jogged alongside his swiftly marching form.
They were his point of contact with all other Imperial Forces under his command.
Private Milock Brander wielded the Vox caster that connected them to the Imperial Channel broadcasting beyond the Inner Wall. As such, the man received any and all commands from both Germael or his Sergeant before executing his duty.
The Chapter Master regarded the mortal for a moment.
Milock Brander was a lightly bearded man, a gritty determination in his attentive gaze cast toward their beckoning destination.
Germael respected the man's countenance, knowing fully well that Brander could back up such determination with a fervent strength.
Brander knew that he likely walked toward his death, yet his spirit steeled his mind and body to the dark possibility.
Germael, even as he continued to march, addressed the mortal's around him.
"It is an honor to stand beside you"
The Sergeant and the Corporal were stunned at the sudden words that slipped out from the Astartes Chapter Master. The other's reacted in various sets of disbelief or stuttering acceptance.
It was Trooper Brander, who spoke clearly.
"And you, Milord, I am glad we can assist you"
Germael looked at the man.
….
He would have made an excellent Knight.
Germael nodded solemnly, before delivering the order that he had back for a few peaceful moments.
The time had come.
"Broadcast an order to all forces, Private Brander…" he pulled the maglocked helmet from his side.
Germael's attack force was aimed southward in its entirety, squads breaking off into pathways and taking separate paths forward into enemy territory.
And thus the flow of combat would begin, its ebb and tide decreed by Imperial might.
Germael's helmet clicked into place upon his head.
"...We strike now"
"For Balor! For Dorn and Emperor!"
Rhamine's battle cry preceded his two handed swing, his thunderous charge quickly bringing him upon the first Ork's he and his force had come upon.
Both the blade of his Power Axe and the Teeth of Tiberec's chainsword struck true, two greenskins felled in one transhuman heartbeat.
Rhamine brought forth the fury and strength of an Astral Knight, his ever calm cadence now sharpened by his wroth.
…And his grief.
The decision to take up his fallen Brother's weapon was one he had only hesitated over. But no, Rhamine couldn't do that to Tiberec, or his Brother's memory. He had known him well enough that Tiberec would have wanted him to take up his weapon.
Because Rhamine knew he would have wanted Tiberec to do the same, had their fates been reversed.
In Rhamine's mind, he knew that Tiberec was gone… but as the Chainsword revved with a beckoning bloodlust, Rhamine felt as if his Brother's spirit was still with him.
He wanted to laugh.
Instead, with every swing of his Axe or his Brother's Sword, Rhamine decided to continue their little game.
He counted each and every enemy he slew, for both him, and his Brother.
Should Rhamine ever find himself in his Brother's presence again, be it this life or the next, he wouldn't let himself take too much of a lead… it was possible, however, that Rhamine might favor his Axe a touch more than the sword, just to be sure his count was a hair larger, but who could really say for certain?
Filled with a mournful yet hopeful spirit, the Greenskins were swept away by Rhamine's battle prowess.
Dominius was also already embroiled in combat. His Guardsman Squad had done admirably to keep up with his vicious pace. Even now they trailed closely after his near silent stride, their lasfire accompanying his Bolter fire as they chased down the remaining Ork's they'd come across.
These were capable mortals, soldiers that held themselves to an incredibly high standard.
For a mortal, at least.
But Dominius could respect and appreciate their spirit and dedication.
The last few Ork's turned away from their retreat, wailing and screaming their foreign war cries before turning around to charge the Space Marine.
Immediately, Dominius braced against cover.
While a large target in such a small side path, the Space Marine positioned himself efficiently, his Guardsmen quickly copying his decision.
Las fire and Bolt fire swiftly cut down the final Ork's, their madened charge reduced to a bloody finale in short order.
A relative silence returned.
It was broken by the Guardsman Squad leader.
"My Lord Astartes, other Assault Squads have reported significant clashes with Ork Forces. Many are claiming ground, but some are reporting casualties"
Dominius was presented with the information, his keen intellect dissecting his possible options going forward.
"We shall assist them. Where is the closest one?"
The Guardsman returned to the Vox, briefly conversing with others on the channel before humbly answering the Astartes.
"Sector 12-B, Habblock section Aurelius"
"Fucking Greenskins are in that far?!"
The Guardsman who had barked our his furious comment suddenly received Dominius's full attention for suddenly interrupting.
Every other eye turned to the bashful and outspoken man.
"My apologies my-"
Before the Sergeant could rip his Corporal a new one, Dominius raised a hand, gaining their attention before speaking calmly.
"I understand hate for the enemy Guardsman, particularly those that have besieged your home and attacked your people. But do not let your hate contort your will. Discipline will see us to victory, not anger"
He extended his words to the other Mortal's that spoke with him.
"The same goes to you all. Steel yourselves to the Xenos maleficence. Do so, and we shall always prevail"
Dominius glanced at the Sergeant.
"Inform our Tank's we are advancing further. They shall continue to trail us and act as our fallback position but tell them to remain on high alert" Dominius looked out toward the outer reaches of the Hive.
"I will not allow the Ork's to blindside us so easily"
Dominius began to jog away, knowing his orders would be heeded.
Even so, he couldn't help to add one more warning comment over his shoulder to the now spriting men and women who attempted to keep pace with him.
" Keep an eye out for an ambush, Guardsmen. I believe the Xenos may yet have more tricks up their sleeve…"
"Chapter Master. Assault Cruiser Shadow of Intent believes they can slip through the Greenskin Fleet. They are asking for permission to attempt to deploy relief forces to Balor"
Pedro Kantor thought deeply.
The Third Company of the Crimson fists was aboard the Shadow of Intent. The Red Lighting, led by Captain Ashor Drakken.
He was Pedro's Master of the Line, a formidable warrior, one who could marshal a stalwart defense of the Xeno menace.
A warrior who would provide an irreplaceable boon to those that held the cities of Balor against the Greenskins…
The Chapter Master's decision was as swift as his words.
"They have my blessing. Inform Captain Drakken to concentrate his might in aiding the Capital city"
The order was delivered immediately.
Pedro Kantor felt his muscles tense.
Captain Drakken would be the first of his Brother's to lead an honorable counter offensive upon the Surface of the Imperial World, and Pedro wished dearly to be there as well.
But he trusted in his Brother's skills and intellect.
Nevertheless, he was still at ease. Kantor did not like knowing he was so far away from his kin, in case they needed him.
He took heart in the undeniable truth that he would be soon to join them upon the battlefield.
The Ork's were slowly, but surely, losing the Orbital War.
It took his mind a second to truly comprehend the being before him.
The hair, face and eyes should have made it a dead give away, but hindsight is always neigh perfect.
And as Lucian fully grasped who it was that now smiled down upon him, face to face with him after all this time…
After all those hours spent, wondering who his…
"Father" Lucian was reverently quiet as he spoke, his head bowing forward as he attempted to kneel before the man that-
Another hand joined the first on either shoulder, and Lucian was kept on his feet.
"Lucian"
As the youth looked up, a golden wave of light had begun to grow around Neoth's form, the sudden light softly cascading around the man's figure.
The eyes had become golden bands of thrumming energy.
Yet the face was still serene and calm, an approachable look of friendship and warmth that Lucian came to know as his Father's face.
Neoth's words were delivered in the verbal equivalent of his look. Honest, proud and kind.
"You need not bow to me, son"
"Father… I…"
He locked eyes with Neoth.
And the Emperor of Mankind patted him upon the shoulder, chuckling slightly.
"Never to me Son… never…"
His hands slipped away as Lucian went quiet, the youth silently processing the man before him.
Truth be told, the Emperor of Mankind did not look anything like how Lucian imagined him. And yet even as he saw him now, the youth couldn't ever imagine the man looking any differently.
"I am sure you have many more questions now?"
The kind question shook Lucian's attention.
But the firm gaze that beckoned behind the words drew Lucian's mind into a straight line.
"No, Father. Only one"
The Emperor cocked his head.
"Really?" he asked, softly yet with humor.
And Lucian didn't even hesitate.
He didn't care where he was, he didn't care for almost anything else in the world right no. The only answer he needed was the one he so desperately craved to know.
Because when standing before the being responsible for your inception, when face to face with your creator, what else was their to ask.
"What is my purpose"
The Emperor smiled.
"Your purpose? What makes you think I know the answer to that?"
Lucian wasn't expecting that.
"But-"
"My Son" the Emperor softly cut him off, "your purpose is your own. All I may do is ask you to help right my wrongs, so that you, your Brother's and humanity may finally be free from my sins"
"You're the Emperor!" Lucian defiantly burst out, "Wrongs?! Sins?! No! You're not capable of… of…"
"To indulge Chaos before I truly understood it, may lead to the doom us all" the Emperor calmly explained, "I acted rashly, thinking I had prepared for all eventualities… that I could prevail against-"
The Emperor went oddly silent, taking a moment to glance elsewhere in the Domain, his eyes away from Lucian as he thought upon something far distant to the conversation between the two of them.
"In time you shall find your own purpose, Lucian. All I wish is that you do so as yourself, not as a piece on the board guided by another hand… even my own"
Lucian's resolve tightened as he made a life defining declaration.
"Then… then I want to help you, Father. I will help you. But, please, tell me what can I do? Please, tell me what I can do to help you"
The Emperor smiled.
But his eyes were tinged with sadness.
He quietly spoke again.
"You remind me of your Brother, when I first found him"
Lucian blinked.
"Which?"
The Emperor's answer was immediate.
"Horus"
The youth didn't know what to say, his jaw failing to process a proper word as his mind was incapable of forming a cohesive thought.
He felt rage, indignation and spite at the comment.
And Neoth understood these emotions that came from his son. He knew of what Lucian felt to be compared to the 'great traitor'...
"Horus was a tragedy of my own making. His story… his fate… Horus may have made his own choices, but I failed him. His Betrayal… was my fault"
"No it wasn't" Lucian denied, "him siding with Chaos, that couldn't-"
"I knew it would happen… as soon as I appointed him Warmaster, I knew. I have scryed the very future itself, my Son, and I knew what could happen. And still, I allowed the die to be cast anyway…"
Silence blossomed between the two of them.
"Long ago, even you would believe that Horus was a good man. But he became a shadow of himself, as did many of your Brothers"
"Chaos corrupted them" Lucian declared, "not you. You are not at fault"
The Emperor turned pensive.
His eyes flared with golden intent.
"Do you truly wish to help me son?"
"Yes" Lucian honestly replied, "of course I do"
"... then I ask you to find your Brother's Lucian, I ask you to undo the damage they, and I, have done to humanity. The Imperium is not what it once was, but you, and them at your side…"
The Emperor smiled.
"I still see hope for a bright future"
The youth stood tall.
"Then I shall do so"
Neoth's power flared.
Lucian felt it suffuse the halfway reality he was subjected to.
Feeling and warmth rolled across his skin.
The light of the Emperor grew brighter still.
"While I still exist Lucian, while I am still here, know that I can only do so much to help you. And though I have done what I can, to what end you we may come to, I cannot walk this path for you"
His Father's physical shape devolved into nothing but a bright light, a glowing sun of energy that encapsulated all of the space before him.
Lucian didn't shield his eyes.
He didn't need to.
"And now I ask you, Son, are you ready to help me?"
Lucian couldn't help but softly smile.
"Yes"
"-know is a strong word. I'm pretty sure he's going to be perfectly…"
Vownus trailed off.
His senses had tickled him just slightly, a foreign whisper of the warp that echoed in the ethereal distance being the perpetrator.
He blinked, his mind making sense of the now sudden yet constant presence.
It was… a soft feeling.
His eyes swiveled around, his torso turning as he looked toward the source with a perplexed expression.
"What is…"
The feeling strengthened.
It's soft shadow grew into an ember of light, a flickering warmth that basked Vownus' entire being. Even the winds of the warp softened into a forgiving and pliant mist.
A bright fissure of light exploded out from Lucian's chest, its lance of golden energy dazzling against the sky.
Vownus had to shield his eyes.
It was like trying to stare at the sun…
The fissure ceased suddenly, its presence evaporating in a moment.
But the feeling remained.
Lucian's presence was now… palpable to those that were attuned with the Warp…
And there was no mistaking it now.
Any Psyker would be able to tell just by standing near him.
The youth sat up, wearily shaking his head as he suddenly returned to consciousness…. And back to life…
This was the Emperor's Son.
All the comments and stuff, thank y'all so much. It means so fucking much to hear how you are enjoying this, and what you are enjoying about it. Your the best. Yes you. You've given me your patience and attention in a world so full of distractions and boredom. I'm glad I've given you something you enjoy. And if you're not enjoying it, please tell me what I can do. I want the Mortal Son to be a good story, first and foremost. Grand in scale, epic adventure, drama, action, thriller, mystery, spirituality, and some good philosophical discussions.
It's taking me a fair bit of time to write this, but in the next two chapters, Balor will be over, and I'll have reached the point where my pre planned script ends. In broadstrokes I've made a plan for the rest of the story, but I have no specific scenes planned out beside a handful of moments that NEED to occur. Connecting these dots may take some time, as well as some review of my work in order to keep the plot and character motivations consistent.
Yeah.
It's gonna take a bit. But I'll be here when I can be. And I hope you all will too.
The Emperor Protects,
Freedom.
P.s: Figured out who Alpharius is yet? ;)