It took a while, but Ahriman saw the young sorcerer again.
He had warning before Loki arrived, in the form of that particular Chaos Spawn he had nicknamed Satan. Ahriman had not given his own familiar a nickname… it was just familiar to him. But then, it wasn't his original one, or even the second or third. Being his familiar was not an easy job, by any measure.
"Heeeey," the Chaos Spawn rasped and Ahriman wondered why its' voice was like that. "He's coming. Just wanted to warn you, he's in a really good mood."
"That is a problem?" Ahriman asked, a touch bemused. The Chaos Spawn rolled its' eyes, which was impressive when it had eight.
"He can talk your ear off when he's in a good mood. You're gonna hear some weird stuff today," it rasped and Ahriman snorted. He'd seen the eldritch horrors of the Warp, what could be 'weird' about the babbling of a mere child?
"AHRIMAN!" Loki burst into the room, all smiles and his appearance was the same but his clothing was completely different. He was wearing what appeared to be a local PDF uniform and a rosary. Ahriman could recognize the ancient religious symbol. "I'm so happy! Oh, hi Satan!" Loki suddenly became contrite, as he gazed at the little Chaos Spawn. "I'm really sorry… I shouldn't have been that mean to you, when you were just being well… you. I was just really upset."
"Eh, it's fine. I've had worse," the spawn said and Ahriman was certain that was true, even knowing very little about what had happened.
"Satan tells me you're in a good mood and prone to say 'weird things'. What weird thing do you have on your mind?" Ahriman asked, interested to see if Loki could live up to the hype. Satan rolled his eyes again.
"You're going to challenge him? Oh noooo," he rasped and Loki turned to point a finger at the little Chaos Spawn, grinning.
"Oh yes!" Loki seemed incredibly bright eyed and Ahriman noticed that his green eyes were glowing slightly. Was that a reflection of his necron nature? "I was thinking of serving the Chaos Gods and how it all comes down to shit."
"Shit?" Satan said and Loki nodded exuberantly.
"Poop! Feces! Let me start with Nurgle because he's obvious. If you serve Nurgle, you look like shit and you smell like shit. Nurgle is shit." Accurate. "Now with Khorne, you are a shit stained murder hobo. You are so into lopping off heads that you forget to wipe!" Ahriman blinked at that. He… didn't know if that was true, although he doubted it. Still, he couldn't really rule it out. "Now with Slaanesh… I know she's dead, but this is good… with Slaanesh, you have to eat the shit." What? "Right out of the butthole. Did you know that's totally a fetish and people get off on that?"
"No way. You're making that up," Satan said and Loki shook his head.
"No! It's real! There was an outbreak of cholera when I was just six!" …Really… Ahriman was actually a little shocked. But then, as a Space Marine, one thing he had never taken much interest in was sexuality. That hadn't changed much when he'd turned to Chaos. "I remember because you know, I was six and poop. Also, the Sunday sermons were really interesting for a while!" He could imagine.
"No shit," Satan rasped and Loki laughed. "What about Tzeetch? How is he about shit?" Yes, do tell.
"Oh, Tzeentch is the best one… see, with him, you gotta put on the rubber gloves," Loki mimed donning the gloves. "Then you gotta get right into that shit," Loki mimed reaching out and separating something. Ahriman watched, entranced. "Get in there really good. Examine that shit. Learn about the shit. And then, when you're done and know everything…" Loki made a stirring gesture. "You stir the shit. Tzeentch is a shit explorer and a shit disturber." The Chaos Spawn laughed long and hard, shaking and jiggling from the force of its' mirth. Ahriman's couldn't help but smile a little.
"Oh that's good, I'll have to tell the boss, he'll get a kick out of it." He probably would, too. Ahriman knew his own sense of humor was almost non-existent these days, but he still found it amusing so Tzeentch likely WOULD enjoy it. Still, this was errant foolishness.
"Loki, can I ask you a favor?" Ahriman asked and Loki tilted his head, a bit of hard suspicion entering those green eyes. For the first time, Ahriman saw a bit of evidence of the Chaos Spawn's claims. "I wish to have more information about biotransference." Loki frowned, reaching up to fiddle with his rosary.
"Why?" he asked suspiciously and Ahriman paused for a moment before launching into the story of his greatest mistake. He skipped over how their Legion had found themselves in such a predicament to start with and Loki became a bit sympathetic. "You're looking for a way to help them? But I'm not sure that would work at all since the physical structures are gone." Yes… but…
"Our souls do contain what we are, as much as our minds. If that were not true, then…" Then the way Yvraine had resurrected some of the Rubric Marines would not have been possible. Ahriman shook the thought away. He'd considered hunting down Yvraine and forcing her to resurrect his men, but his prognostications had always indicated that path would lead to nothing good. This felt more promising. "Could not the soul be used to imprint on a 'blank slate' necron body?" Although that would mean the Rubric Marines would be permanently mechanisms, and xenos ones at that. But they were currently non-sentient armor so it would be an improvement.
"I don't…" Loki suddenly stopped dead and his expression became intensely curious. "I was going to say that I don't think blank slate necron bodies can be a thing but maybe they kind of already exist." Oh really? "I don't know though… I don't really know anything… I need to ask…" Loki's eyes went vague then and Ahriman was quite pleased. This is how to get him to do something. Activate his own curiosity, get him interested in the problem. Loki blinked, coming out of his fugue. "I'll do what I can. The problem is, I don't know if anyone I know, knows anything either… it might take a while if I need to find a Cryptek. Fortunately we have biotransference on Luminous so if I can get some leave I can probably find someone."
"So you will help?" Ahriman asked and Loki hesitated a moment before nodding.
"Only this far. If I find out something, you'll have to act on it yourself. And honestly, you probably don't even want my help to approach anyone they'd just think I'm making things up." Loki looked a bit martyred and Ahriman chuckled quietly. He didn't doubt it. "You said I should get trained… I don't know how I COULD. Calder tells me I'm being dumb and he's just saying what everyone else is too polite to say out loud!" That was a very unique problem. Most psykers had no problems convincing those around them that they were psykers, it was normally the opposite.
"You would have to prove your gifts to them," Ahriman said easily. "If you find another powerful psyker, you could likely shift them into the Warp for a moment." That would likely scare them half to death, but Loki could also likely protect them with the false reality he overlaid over the Warp. What was he seeing now, Ahriman wondered? Loki wrinkled his nose.
"Maybe I'll have to… I should probably test that out though, with a rat or something." Excellent idea. Ahriman foresaw many insane rats in Loki's future. Well, it was not like the universe had any shortage of rats, they followed humans everywhere. Ahriman wouldn't be surprised if some alien races had picked them up.
(amusingly enough, the Tau empire was experiencing the joy of rats and had reciprocated with a very large cockroach-like creature)
(no one was happy with the exchange)
Loki left then, to begin his research and Ahriman schooled himself to patience. He would work on his own projects and wait to see if this avenue brought any results.
He'd been trying to save the Rubric Marines for a very long time, with no results. Ahriman refused to get his hopes up.
Calder wasn't really happy to leave his family behind but after a bit of time, he'd come to peace with it.
Isn't it time? He loved his grandchildren and there were even great grandchildren, now. And yet. Loki is right. It's time to go. Imotekh needed everyone he could get for the assault on the Pariah Nexus. Calder knew, much better than Loki, that they were both elite troops. Was it not time to go?
Of course, that meant saying goodbye to Luminous as well. Calder felt melancholy at the thought… he'd come to love this world. The bright, hot, blueish sun, the slightly purple sky, particularly in the evenings… the funny birds who seemed to be allergic to mint… the native flowers and grasses they used for their flower beds. It was such a wonderful world and living aboard a spaceship, coming out just to rain devastation on their enemies, was such a hard change. So hard to give up the feel of grass under his feet and the wind on his necrodermis.
It really isn't just about me. Loki needs this and isn't it for the best? Calder knew it was, he just needed to convince his heart. It might take a while, but they had a few years, he would get there.
"So you are coming too?" Khas asked and Calder focused outside himself.
"Yes, I am." Saying it out loud firmed his decision. "Loki needs someone to take care of him." Khas nodded.
"Good. You are good friends," Khas said and Calder nodded. They had been friends since childhood. Ah, it felt like forever ago, the day they'd met… Calder could only remember that Loki had seemed so sad. He'd wanted to cheer him up and they had gone to play, which had made Loki happy. For a moment, Calder felt an odd flash of guilt as he remembered… several times, as a child, he'd wanted to end his friendship with Loki. His mother had always talked him out of it, that Loki was a good friend and just a little odd. Why was he thinking of that right now?
Then, fate seemed to answer him.
"KHAS LOOK OUT!" Khas jerked to the side as something tiny and squeaking launched itself at his face. Calder had excellent reflexes and he'd honed them on squigs so his hand snapped out and he caught the small thing. It promptly started knawing on his fingers, doing absolutely no real damage but puncturing his necrodermis with surprising strength. "Oh, you caught it! YAY! Uh, can I have it back?" Loki asked and Calder examined the thing in his hand dubiously.
"Is this a rat?" It looked like a bog standard example of rattus domesticus, or whatever the hell they were technically called. Dark brown and ugly it was squeaking madly and seemed to be frothing? "What in hell did you do to this poor thing?" Had Loki somehow driven a rat insane? Hey wait. "Loki, are you playing with rabid rats? Or are you messing about with Weirdboy tech?" Wouldn't be the first time for that. Calder had thought Loki had more sense though.
"Oh, nothing like that, I was just uh, doing something!" Oh no, what could that mean. "Can I have it back? Really?" Calder decided that he wasn't giving it back, it was dangerous and he quite neatly twisted the neck, snapping it with an ugly little sound. "CALDER!"
"Come on Loki, that thing was dangerous. Stop messing about with rats," Calder said firmly and noticed Khas was staring at him, mildly shocked. "I grew up on a farm." He'd killed plenty of animals in his day. Loki dithered a moment.
"Calder, what would you say if I said I'm a psyker?" he asked and Khas seemed to stiffen. Calder made a sighing sound.
"I'd say you're an idiot and wizarding school isn't real. Loki, stop it, we're both ancient if you were a psyker someone would have noticed years ago!" he said, mainly for Khas' benefit. Humans around here did NOT take this sort of thing lightly.
"How old are we, Calder?" Loki asked and that was a deflection because he was angry, but Calder would take it gladly.
"I don't know, we were both around seventy when we went through the fires. So well over a hundred, but I'm not sure exactly." Time became quite vague after a while. Calder was mostly keeping count in grandchildren, he had five so far and likely more on the way. Ah, his bloodline was quite large and just seemed to keep expanding, a true pity Loki had never found a woman who could tolerate his nonsense. "So think, how ludicrous is it to think that you could somehow be a psyker now?" Although Calder's guilty conscience reminded him that psychically strong souls could make previously non-psykers into psykers. Yet surely Loki couldn't have lucked into such a soul, surely?
(Ahriman could have told him that the fact that Loki had been having visions, lost his soul and his visions, then regained a soul and had even more vivid visions, indicated a different mechanism entirely)
"I've always seen things that weren't exactly there…" Loki said, but rather feebly and Calder proceeded to squash it.
"That's called imagination and childhood. Stop being a loon, Loki," he said severely. "This is exactly why…" Calder didn't complete the thought, it was a bit cruel, but still very true. This is why you never had many friends. Not many people could tolerate this. Then Khas suddenly spoke up.
"Maybe we could play cards?" he asked and Loki perked up, looking at them brightly.
"I would love to!" Oh, that was a good idea! Calder liked cards and Loki just loved all the games. They all went with Khas to the leisure hall and there were several games going on. Soon they were embroiled in a good round of rummy, to Calder's pleasure.
By the time the cards were done, he'd completely forgotten about the rat.
Nubhnek and Rahotka of the Thokt Dynasty had been chosen to be the emissaries to the Sautekh Dynasty.
Such things were rare to still exist after so long, but Nubhnek and Rahotka were a married couple. Both administrator lords, they worked together extremely well and were honored to take up this post in a far away Dynasty. They had left long before the matter of Ulthwe and the plates, with the intent of scouting out possible Cryptek prospects. Even if they convinced Imotekh to trade them some Crypteks, they were notorious for being temperamental, particularly the very good ones. Nubhnek and Rahotka were attempting to determine who might be an acceptable fit for the Thokt Dynasty.
Right now, Rahotka was playing particular attention to a Psychomancer named Zivok. He was a former human and it showed very much in his appearance – what a strange look – but he was fitting in extremely well. He was also noted as being similar in personality to Illuminator Szeras, which was daunting but strongly indicated he would not care a bit about facing other humans on the battlefield.
That was important because one thing they were particularly looking for was combat-suited Crypteks. Not all Crypteks were of use on the battlefield, but Zivok most surely was. He was also mildly insane, working hard on overcoming a former Destroyer named Overlord Agatef. One day, Rahotka decided to question him about that.
"Forgive me, why are you so intent on defeating Agatef?" Zivok had been 'killed' three times so far and defeated two more times, but not actually sent for recall. Agatef was becoming amused with his single-minded sparring partner and sparing him a few times, now.
"Well, I could say I am interested in cracking how to incite fear in him, but I actually have managed that now," Zivok admitted and Rahotka was a bit surprised. He'd managed it? "That was the time I almost got him… so close! Now, it's just a challenge and since I can no longer battle Rosalia, it will have to do."
"Rosalia?" she asked and Zivok reached up to touch the strange adornment on his face, that surrounded his eyes. She'd noticed he tended to do that.
"My greatest rival, when I was human… ah, well, it is truly too late now. She finally had to step down from the competition due to ill health. I likely could have the Golden Whisk now, but it just wouldn't be the same." The Golden Whisk? "I'm sorry, I know this is likely nonsensical but it was the prize for a yearly, worldwide competition. Eight years, I took second place!" Zivok shook his head. "I finally had to give up due to my own ill health, so to speak. As for Agatef, I believe I will have to give up on him soon as well, he's probably going to be assigned to a fleet." That made sense. Even completely insane with the Destroyer virus, Agatef had been extremely capable. It really was terribly wasteful to keep him on Mandragora. "It seems to be my fate that I can never complete my personal challenges." Hmm.
"If you would like other personal challenges, we are hoping to convince the Stormlord to cede a few Crypteks to our Dynasty. Do you think you might be willing to contemplate such a change?" Rahotka dared to ask. Zivok contemplated it for a moment.
"Well, there is only one advantage for me I can see, and it's extremely unethical and immoral." What? Rahotka used glyphs to signify her confusion. "Oh, human test subjects for some of my experiments. Slaves are so hard to come by and certainly not available on Mandragora! But I imagine you have plenty of 'prisoners of war' available." Zivok paused for a moment. "I really am horrible for even saying that, but everyone knows that about me." Yes indeed. "But you know, I am still technically a Serf, despite my achievements. If Imotekh orders me to go, I will do so without complaint." That was actually a relief. They needed to go through Imotekh anyway, if Zivok was willing to accept a transfer, that was ideal. Although it brought an idea to mind.
"Do you think all of the human Crypteks will feel that way?" she asked and Zivok considered it for a moment.
"No, but that's because many of them still have living family on Hope. It would be insanely difficult to attend any weddings halfway across the galaxy!" Oh, she really hadn't thought of that. But then, it had been so long since they had needed to consider such things. "Still, there are a few orphans or those who just don't have firm attachments… also, we do have a few former Tech Priests here now." They did?! "You haven't met them, there's only two so far. But despite having given up on their former loyalties and swearing themselves to Sautekh, they would probably avoid a Dynasty actively at war with the Mechanicus." That did make sense. Rahotka didn't think they wanted to bring home any former Mechanicus anyway. "Imotekh probably knows who would be interested."
"We're still arranging things with him," she said, reflecting on it. Imotekh was currently present in Mandragora and Nubhnek was dickering with him a bit. It was troublesome, trying to get a decent deal… Crypteks were quite valuable. They might have been bargaining harder but a very short message had been relayed through several other Dynasties, that something was coming. Something of interest.
It took many months for that to materialize and in the meantime, Rahotka and Nubhnek were able to attend the new play. The actors had been working hard on it and they were both in awe of the result… they had used holographic technology to overlay themselves with the appearance of the ancient necrontyr. It was a bit fragile and broke a few times, particularly during battle scenes, but overall held up well, granting them the illusion of life. The one that gave them all a chill was the actor portraying Mephet'ran. He was portraying him a bit differently than the human, serial version of the play, but it was still wonderfully frightening. If there was one thing that could truly frighten necrons, it was the C'Tan.
The play was fast paced and only lasted a week, which honestly felt too short. But it still came to a beautifully triumphant conclusion, as Mephet'ran's plans for the princess were not entirely realized. She became the new Phaeron but instead of a monster, she had come through the fires of suffering and temptation to become a better person. It was not entirely a happy ending, for anyone, but the final scene was the commoners rebuilding their lives and once again singing the morning song. And there was a sense that they had gotten through something horrible and things would get better.
"That was so…" Nubhnek said before falling silent, as everyone began leaving the theatre. Rahotka looked at him curiously. "So emotionally charged, yet so draining. So intense." Ah.
"I feel like this is how our plays used to be," Rahotka said after a moment. The War in Heaven was incredibly flat, compared to this, and it reflected their current nature. This new work reflected the deeply passionate nature of the necrontyr, the way they blazed through their short lives. "I would not want to watch it again immediately, but after perhaps a year or two, I might like to see it again." It was definitely a powerful experience. Nubhnek nodded.
"Yes, that is exactly it. Although they will have many audiences for this work." Indeed, Imotekh was circulating his Lords and Overlords, as well as his fleet commanders and others, so they could all have a chance to see this play without affecting their work or the military situation. And while lesser races might have found that absurd, for them it was quite important… this was the first true play they had created since the Flesh Times. A great cultural event, there were a few necrons arriving from both Nihilakh and Charnovokh now.
A few months later, something incredible arrived that changed everything.
It was a small fleet from the Thokh Dynasty. Rahotka and Nubhnek had arrived in a small ship, counting on stealth and speed to arrive safely, but this was something quite different. The reason was the treasure they were carrying… Rahotka was in awe as she beheld the plates and glasses, delivered by the Overlord in charge. A full set, and it was so strange!
"No Dynasty markings?" Nubhnek asked, holding one of the plates. The Overlord nodded.
"It was in the hands of the aeldari. We believe perhaps it was a gift to the Old Ones, passed on to them." Really?! How incredible! "Trazyn would be able to evaluate better if that is correct, but the plates themselves are completely authentic." Yes, that was easy to determine simply by age and a quick scan for the lattice within. Rahotka did that, just to check and found it as expected. This was surely necrontyr work. "And your mission has become more urgent. We recently lost ten Crypteks." What?!
"What happened?" Nubhnek asked and they were both appalled to hear of the destruction. Fifty thousand Warriors was a fleabite, they had trillions, but the rest of the losses… intellectually, Rahotka knew that Lords and Overlords were fairly expendable but those might have been friends. And the Crypteks were priceless, it was a shocking loss. "That many… I almost wonder…" What? "I wonder if the Mechanicus deliberately targeted the Crypteks on the battlefield to send them for recall before detonating that weapon."
"That seems…" Rahotka fell silent. She had been about to say that seems too clever but Zivok had once been human and he was more than capable of following just such a strategy, knowing the damage it would do. Was it impossible that the Mechanicus also possessed such cleverness and had observed that for an ungrowing race, the Crypteks were surely very valuable? Rahotka reluctantly decided it was possible they had. "Well, it does not really matter if it was intentional or random chance. We can surely trade these for many Crypteks." Imotekh specifically wanted necrontyr artefacts although he refused to say why. Rahotka could guess… Trazyn had something he wanted, probably the wormhole generator they had heard so much about. She and Nubhnek had actually asked him about the plans for that and been advised of the horrendous amount of transpositanium needed to make it. Apparently, it was the first piece of technology the humans had ever made using the properties of that rare metal.
"They might want to delay sending some of them until the matter of the Pariah Nexus is resolved, but that will be acceptable," Nubhnek said and Rahotka nodded. If the war was decided in Szarekh's favor the matter of the Mechanicus would become academic anyway and they would no longer really need Crypteks. Despite that, though, Rahotka did not really hope for that… this matter of gaining souls was so beautiful, she wanted one. Szarekh claimed that his plan would also involve giving them souls but it would take so many millions of years. Despite being immortal, she didn't want to wait. "How many Crypteks do you think we should ask of Imotekh for this?"
"We shouldn't set a number," Rahotka responded instantly. She thought she had a good grasp on Imotekh's personality now, including things he might not particularly like to acknowledge. "Imotekh is extremely fair. We should ask him to make the first offer." They might get a better offer that way. Nubhnek was relieved at the thought, using glyphs to indicate his feelings.
"Oh, an excellent idea! Did you want to begin the negotiations?" Rahotka nodded. She wouldn't say she 'liked' Imotekh – he was quite unapproachable – but she felt comfortable in his presence. That was about the best that could be expected with any Phaeron. "Let me arrange the meeting…" Nubhnek went still, communicating with Imotekh's Lords via interstitial messaging. Rahotka was sure they would not see him immediately, but soon.
Imotekh would be highly interested in these artefacts.