RWBY 40k – Salem, Mistress of Inquisition.
Ep 35: Angron, the gladiator of Nuceria.
The capsule of the XIIth Primarch crashed to a mountain chain in the North of a planet named Nuceria.
A hand pierced the capsule glass then a young boy exited the burning capsule. He could see a land full of snow with a blizzard blowing on the mountain. He observed everywhere, only seeing snow and more snow.
He then saw lights in the distance coming from the mountain which was descending towards him.
But he felt the way they moved, quickly and chaotically. How they ran.
He decided to move away from the capsule and ran into the deep snow.
Despite his supernatural strength, the 12th Primarch was slowed by the layer of snow that covered his legs. The lights were getting closer and closer. And voices covered by snow, speaking in a sticky and hissing language began to be heard.
He went further and further down the mountain, where there was less snow, and began to run, despite the cold which burned his skin and the stone cuts which hurt the bottom of his feet.
A thrown dagger passed inches from his neck and fell to the ground. The Primarch didn't take advantage of this and continued running, wanting to distance himself from these creatures.
He took a stone before throwing it in anger at one of the creatures, with so much force that it died instantly. He did the same to another creature, killing it with a larger stone.
The others, frightened, fled and left him alone on the mountain.
He wandered aimlessly down the mountain. And after being exhausted and freezing to death after this long walk. He fell to his knees, he heard other voices, deeper and more human. He was riddled with needles and fainted.
He later wakes up to incessant screaming. He found himself in the middle of an arena in the company of a hundred other individuals dressed in burlap rags, they wore irons on their ankles and wrists, slave marks crossed their skin, their flesh wrinkled and reddened where the brand had been applied.
The child Primarch faced a huge metal ziggurat, surrounded by a crowd seated in stands that rose up against tall stone walls, where strange metal spheres the size of a human ribcage were flying and from which came the same language as the men who had captured the child Primarch. Large circular vents nestled in the sides of the walls opened and a torrent of blackish liquids fell onto the ground. This liquid was an acid strong enough to dissolve flesh and bone, but not immediately... This acid forced the group of slaves to begin climbing the steps of the ziggurat to escape the now drowned ground. The ziggurat transformed into an islet, which shrank as the volume of acidic water increased and the lower steps disappeared under the tide. At first, the slaves helped each other and held out their hands to their comrades to hoist them to the top of the ziggurat while the water covered the steps one by one, under the screams of the crowd who rejoiced at their suffering and even more at that of the spheres which swirled around them, peering into their faces through rimmed lenses that the child Primarch's fellow prisoners called the "fly's eyes".
Then, the captives began killing each other to reach the safety of the top of the ziggurat, striving to bring each other down. Thanks to his extraordinary strength, the child Primarch managed to reach the top of the ziggurat but each time one of the other slaves fell into the acidic water, he felt pain. He snapped necks and smashed skulls so that his comrades were already dead before he plunged into the mud. The last of them, a veritable colossus, hammered the boy but the child Primarch threw him into the acid. He had reached the top of the ziggurat, alone and alive.
The eyes of flies descended around him and the speakers embedded in their surface began to squeak and crackle, proclaiming to the people of the city of Desh'ea that the child Primarch had won the Devil's Tears and that the house that had bet on him to acquire it was House Thal'kr. A sting extended from the fly's eye and sent a shock of electricity to the boy Primarch.
Eye of Fly: "Tell me what your name is, young boy."
The child had none and did not respond.
Other Eye of Fly: "He was caught in the northern mountains. Where the icy winds blow over a raging volcano."
Eye of Fly: "So... his name will be Angron, the Child of the Mountain."
Angron was devastated to learn that this horror was a game and he lunged at the nearest bug's eye and grabbed it with both hands while the others scattered.
The orb pulled back and lifted the boy off the ground and carried him above the toxic pool. Electricity burst from the fly's eye and Angron found himself paralyzed, falling back onto the ziggurat. To the delight of the crowd…
After a few moments, Angron was taken into the large caves before being thrown inside to the bottom of the cave with the other gladiators.
Angron faced the intrusion of armored machines that moved around the fighters, light dancing from the tips of their electro-prods. The gladiators threw themselves at the weapons available in the room, but Angron only got his hands on an old, battered helmet. Angron was beginning to understand the spoken language.
Gladiator: "This is a helmet that belonged to Cuneglas. He died in a way that I prefer to avoid detailing."
Angron could see bloody hair stuck to the bottom of the helmet, the death of this unfortunate man must have been horrible to see.
The machines, speaking in the language of the Masters, guided Angron and his group at the end of a tunnel and they found themselves again in the arena, the one where he had survived the Devil's Tears. The ziggurat had disappeared, as had the acidic water, replaced by a ground of sunburned earth, surrounded by a crowd of thousands of people. The fight began, and the weakest were quickly killed, while Angron easily dodged a fighter's ax swings, finishing him off with a punch to the torso that ripped a hole in his opponent's chest. Angron seized the ax and killed all the other gladiators, hesitating to finish off the last one who took the opportunity to plunge a knife into his stomach up to the hilt. This did nothing for him and he killed his last opponent, while the crowd screamed his name with fervor.
Thus, his legend began as a distinguished Gladiator, amusing the bloodthirsty crowds of the city Desh'ea.
He thus met a respected former gladiator named Oenomaus, the Bear of Ull-Chaim. Who was like a father to him, this man teaching him the rules, customs, traditions and the will to survive in this hell. He lived with men and women, dressed in tatters and handcuffs, huddled together in a cave, growing larger and more massive. Angron did not understand why the crowd was amused by their torments, but the wise Oenomaus taught him that they were only poor people who just needed to know that there were people worse off than themselves and that seeing them die gladiators while they are still alive was the only strength they will ever have. Oenomaus advised Angron not to waste his anger on the people, but on their real executioners, their masters: the high lords. His mentor announced to Angron that he was not of this world and that his destiny was elsewhere. But Angron refused to abandon his brothers and sisters, helping Oenomaus in his future revolt project.
Since his debut, Angron stood out from other fighters. After winning the Devil's Tears and receiving his name, he stunned the crowd who saw him distinctly change his build with each of his fights. He was faster than other fighters, his mind was able to anticipate the slightest move of his opponents and he instinctively wielded any weapon brilliantly. First of all, the massacre tormented him. Killing to defend his life did not bother him but killing for games, committing bloodshed for that made no sense to him. Angron and his comrades bled and died in excruciating pain to quench the thirst of the crowd, a thirst that they all knew would never be satisfied. Relegated to the role of slave, Angron adopted the perspective of the other warriors, and found meaning in his life as a gladiator, changing his perceptions, seeing the clamor of the crowd not as hostile cries, but as adulation, even veneration for his strength, and he stopped hating them. Only bug-eyed people deserve his hatred. Fight had become a ritual dance, an almost religious experience, where respect was owed to all, where competing to spill the blood of one's peers forged bonds stronger than any other. He threw all his strength into the fight, because settling for less would cover his opponent with dishonor. In this type of fight to the death, killing the champion facing you at the end of a brutal and prolonged battle, sending him from life to death after a valiant exchange was an honorable act. Angron worked hard to provide as dignified a death as possible before returning to his cave and his chains. But in a secret, guilty corner of his mind, Angron envied the dead. He became known to the crowd as the Lord of the Red Sands, the Undefeated.
One day Angron found himself once again on the red sands, accompanied by ten of his brothers, waiting for the bloodbath to begin. Over the past few weeks they had fought machines, men, and monstrous beasts, but now all that stood against them was a woman of indeterminate age, terribly thin, and a whirring metal torque gripping her throat. . Angron felt an icy cold as he looked at the girl, and the burning dust moved away from her. The red sand clumped together and solidified as a trickle of frost flowed from his feet. One of Angron's companions had his flesh and sinew torn apart by the sheer force of his thoughts. Another gladiator was pulverized. Angron threw himself at this Psyker, exhausted by the use of his powers, but righting himself in time to send flames that killed the rest of Angron's group, which infuriated the Primarch at the honorless end of his companions of weapons. He resisted the psychic assaults and smashed the skull of the poor witch who was forced to fight, despite her request for mercy.
Another day, Angron was drugged. He woke up with one of his brothers in arms, one Hexx, in the belly of a ynntg worm, a colossal sea creature from Nuceria. Once awakened, they only had a few minutes to free themselves before suffocating, all under the hilarious and intoxicated gaze of the high lords who had bet on the outcome. Angron stopped breathing and held his breath as long as possible to allow as much oxygen as possible to the barely conscious Hexx. He hooked Hexx around his waist and began climbing, moving up the creature's digestive tract and resisting the stomach acid. He opened the jaws of the beast, dislocating its jaw with a crack. He landed in the sands of the arena and walked away from the creature. But Hexx was dead, despite Angron's efforts to revive him, to the laughter of the crowd. Later, as Oenomaus treated him, Angron spoke with sadness of not being able to save his brother in arms. His attention was drawn to a young man who was twitching on the ground, racked by a nightmare, the mark of the slaves still fresh and pink on his flesh. His name was Jochura, he had fought his first fight and barely escaped. Angron placed a hand on Jochura's shoulder, closing his eyes. The young man stopped stirring, his cries replaced by a deep, dreamless sleep. The Primarch did not know what he had done, but by this gesture, many other slaves came towards him to be blessed in the same way. Angron had become a hope for them.
But the most important detail was the steel cables that ran down their necks beneath their helmets, aggression-enhancing metal braids known as Butcher Nails. These implants purged the mind of all emotions except rage and tortured all thoughts of a warrior except the desire to kill. Butcher Nails were barbaric augmetics that burrowed into the wearer's brain, transforming them into a bloodthirsty madman.
The fight lasted seventeen minutes and despite the extremely violent duel, Angron killed the Abhumans.
But the crowd demanded that Angron and Oenomaus fight each other to the death. This time, Angron flatly refused and insulted the high lords. Faced with this refusal, the decision was made: the Nails will be established on Angron.
Angron had no clear memory of the moment he had the Claws implanted. He was drugged almost to death when he was taken from the caves to the sepulchral tower where the high lords' technomancers reside. He woke up, chained to a wall and completely covered in blood. Then he remembered being in the arena, and listening to the guards talking among themselves, he let out a cry and lamented: he had massacred Oenomaus under the effect of the Butcher Nails.
One day, while he was languishing in his reserved cell.
A man came before him, covered from head to toe in a long garment.
Man: "Hello…"
Angron: "What do you want from me?! I don't want to see anyone!"
Man: "Calm down. I'm coming to speak to you in private. Because I have something important to tell you."
Angron: "Silence! I'm sure you're an envoy of those wretched High Sirs! What do you want from me?!"
The Man took off his clothing and Angron was a little surprised. He was dressed in clothes he had never seen in Nuceria. A sort of black coat with a double-headed eagle symbol on the underside.
Man: "My name is Kassius Ron. Agent of the Corpus Inquisivitum of the Imperium of Mankind. My mission with my colleagues was to convert Nuceria to the Imperium. But since we learned of your existence. We were surprised to your strength and your resistance. To the point that we were convinced that you are one of the Primarchs that our leader, the Witch of Terra, tirelessly searches for the Primarchs in the Galaxy. And seeing you up close, I am more than ever convinced."
Angron: "What are you talking about? I don't understand anything!"
Man: "Let me explain. I have plenty of time to tell you everything."
Thus, the agent of the Corpus Inquisivitum told of the Imperium, the Primarchs, the Emperor and the Witch of Terra who is neither more nor less than the biological mother of Angron.
Angron, despite his rage, felt surprised at these revelations.
Man: "When the Witch of Terra learned what state you were in. She was seized with an anger that had rarely been seen. Seeing her Primarch in such a state was shocking, even for her coldest agents ."
Angron: "Why should I believe you? Why?"
Agent: "To prove my good faith. I, my comrades and the corrupted Nucerians will give you weapons of immeasurable power and your brothers and sisters weapons of a power beyond your hopes. And when the signal will be given. You will begin your revolt, you will be able to take revenge. Believe me. You burn to see these High Sirs die at your hands, don't you?"
Angron remained silent, watching with great suspicion but his instinct told him that he should listen to this man.
Angron: "Do not disappoint me. For I would be merciless otherwise..."
Man: "You won't be. Trust me. Also, here's a password. If someone says to you, 'Where are our friends?', it's one of our members who will speak to you. You will answer 'Everywhere'. Be patient Angron, you will have your revenge."
The Man returned to the corridors leaving Angron alone.
A few days later...
Angron was with the gladiators, preparing for yet another battle in the arena.
A group of guards arrived in front of the door leading to the back of the cave.
Guard: "Where are our friends?"
Angron (blinked): "Everywhere... What do you want from me?"
Guard: "We have a weapons rack for you."
They entered the back of the cave with a rack of weapons of the Imperium and entire weapons. The gladiators were surprised at this.
Guard 2: "Take care to hide all of this in the cave."
Guard 3: "Take it quickly because the Eyes may come at any time."
The gladiators took up their weapons before hiding them in the corners.
Guard 3 (to Angron): "Listen, Primarch Angron. The Terra Witch's Ship will arrive in a few days. From what I understand, she will give you a very special weapon with which to carry out your revenge."
Angron raised his eyebrow.
Angron: "A weapon?"
Guard 3: "Yes, a magical weapon of unparalleled power. But we need to know what type of weapons you are good with."
Angron: "The axe."
Guard 3: "Thank you for the information."
Guard: "Gladiators. Try to survive the next few days. Every life saved is worth two."
The guards left the cave with the rack empty.
Gladiator: "Can we trust them?"
Angron: "...We'll see."
In the days that followed, between arena combats, the gladiators were stocked with weapons from the Imperium of Mankind and were informed that Corpus agents were infiltrating the city's institutions. from Desh'ea. Allowing them to provide slaves and gladiators with advanced technological weapons.
One day, Angron could see in the rack a large black ax matching his stature.
Guard: "This is the Axe of Damnation. It grants its wielder enormous strength and indeflectable will."
Angron grabbed the axe, its lines turning orange and shining like the sun.
Guard: "Keep this weapon for the right occasion. Wait for the signal."
Angron nodded.
So, a sunny day.
The agents broke down the cave door, giving the signal to the gladiators. The gladiators put on their power armor, Angron put on red and black armor that he had been given.
Angron: "Brothers and Sisters! Let us take our revenge!"
The gladiators screamed and ran out of the cave. Surprising the guards who were watching. The terrible weapons of the Imperium reduced the forces that guarded the cave to nothing. Angron could see in the sky, a huge white ship. He felt someone looking at him, a look of support.
The fury of Angron, reinforced by his maker of widows who glowed a dazzling orange, was the nightmare of the city guards.
The High Sires he encountered were now nothing more than weak men, thin as nails, who stank of fear and piss. Begging to stop what he had done his whole life: killing. Angron killed them all.
On the road to Desh'ea, the gladiators all added a new scar to his rope of Triumph. It was a ridge of scar tissue that started at the tailbone. This ridge went up along his spine, then turned left, around the body, passing over the hip, wrapping around the body, possibly rising above the stomach, around the ribs, towards the chest and others. parts of the body, which were lengthened with each victory. Angron cut his rope on his skin. The Priarch and his army fought, always on the move, pushing through the armies of the high lords, crushed by the superior armaments of the army of the Gladiators at Jochura, Cromach, Klester. They burned the Hozzean watchtowers and the mountain strongholds. They painted the entire Great Coast red and devoured the cities of Hozzean, Meahor and Ull-Chaim. So, Angron gave his army a name: The City's Eaters.
They broke their enemies at the river before Ull-Chaim and hanged a thousand high lords and family guards with the vine of the bridges. The heads of the princes floated on the current to the lowlands to announce their coming and the silver lace of their skulls, torn from their skulls, was wrapped around the fists of the Primarch.
But upon arriving near the cliffs of Desh'ea. There were barely a hundred gladiators left, suffering from hunger and deprivation.
They took refuge in the mountain of Fedan Mhor, surrounded by the armies of the High Sires superior in number.
Angron killed the scouts to offer their bodies so his comrades could drink their blood and eat their flesh. Then, they watched over his brothers and sisters who were sleeping in the cave.
Angron found Jochura, a young gladiator barely fifteen years old but whose courage was unrivaled.
The two savored this moment in silence: breathing like a free man.
But in the middle of the night, they saw that the ship in the sky was approaching their cave.
Angron: "What?!"
Jochura: "What's going on?"
Drop-pods fell from the ship, crashing to the ground, opening and revealing warriors of impressive size and physique, carrying weapons more powerful than they had been given. The group
Angron took his ax and pointed it at them, Jochura took his two sabers just in case.
Angron: "Who are you? What do you want from us?!"
There, a familiar face stood out from the troop. It was the master of the 12th Legion Ibram Ghreer. He was accompanied by a woman with golden hair.
Woman: "Relax… I was waiting for the opportunity to see you again, my son."
Angron: "What?"
Jochura: "What are you talking about?"
Woman: "My name is Salem, Witch of Terra and mother of the 12th Primarch. Your companion Angron."
Jochura: "What?!"
Angron said nothing, his face hidden by shadow.
Jochura: "It's nonsense! He's the Child of the Mountain! He's not a..."
Angron: "Quiet."
Jochura: "Angron?"
Angron: "I remember... I came out of a metal tube and broke a transparent glass. And I saw the number XII. Is that true?"
Salem: "Yes. That's it. It was your gestation pod and..."
Angron ran towards her before grabbing her by the neck to her great surprise. Salem saw the vengeful rage on Angron's face.
Angron: "You sent me here so that I could suffer! You dare to come back here to take me after what you did to me?! These years of suffering that I spent... because of you!"
Salem: "Let me explain! Please! I would never do that! It's not my fault!"
Angron: "Silence! You're going to die!"
He crushed the woman's neck and Salem's head fell to the ground with the body.
The War Hounds were shocked by this display of violence from Angron.
Angron: "You are accomplices and you will die too!"
Angron was going to fight against the War Hounds. But a crack stopped him.
He turned towards the Witch's body and was horrified.
The woman's body stood up, took the head in her hands before placing it on her neck, bone, flesh and skin fused together, the wounds closing as if they had never existed. The woman stood there with a pleading look, paying no attention to her own regeneration.
Salem: "Please... let me explain."
Angron: "But who are you? How could you... live again?"
Salem: "I cannot die. This body cannot suffer afflictions, illnesses or injuries while retaining my maidenhood."
Angron did not respond and Salem approached him before placing her hand on Angron's palm.
Salem: "Let me show... what happened."
Angron saw himself immersed in a dream and then saw a room, with twenty capsules with a baby in each of them. In the middle was Salem. Who, aside from her different clothes, was no younger than she already was now.
He saw her for a long time, singing songs to her babies, kissing their windows before leaving for a while before returning to sing again. But the capsules disappeared from the room and Angron saw Salem's grief at the loss of her children.
The dream faded and Angron saw his mother, with misty eyes and a melancholy look.
Salem: "I wasn't the one who sent you to the Warp. The Chaos Gods are the ones who separated you from me and condemned you to live like a lobotomized slave. You have no idea how much that hurts me. I'm broken to see you like that. Mutilated and in the grip of a rage that isn't yours."
Angron didn't know what to think, part of him said she was lying but another part felt the honest sadness in the woman's heart.
Angron after a moment, took Salem's hand and pulled her away from him.
Angron: "What do you want from me?"
Salem: "I want you to return to the Imperium. You have a family and the XIIth Legion waiting for you."
Angron: "Impossible. My brothers and sisters await me and my vengeance awaits me. I cannot abandon them."
Salem: "Hm... That doesn't mean your Legion can't assist you. The War Hounds come from your own blood, do you know that?"
Angron: "What?"
He looked at the War Hounds and could feel a familiarity, a tangible connection between him and them.
Salem: "They are only waiting for your orders. With them, your revenge will be sure to be accomplished, believe me."
Angron looked at the Astartes gathered around him.
Angron: "What do you want from me in return?"
Salem: "I told you. Come with me to your family and the Imperium. Your comrades are welcome too."
Jochura: "What, really?"
Salem: "You no longer have anything holding you to this planet. So why stay here? I can free you from this planet. Take my word for it."
Angron looked coldly at his mother.
Angron: "Don't disappoint me. Otherwise, this could end very badly."
Salem: "Of course not. I would never do that. A mother would never do that."
Ibram Ghreer: "Father, we are only waiting for your orders. Trust us..."
Thus, the next day, the armies of the High Sirs were taken by surprise by the Astartes of the 12th Legion. The War Hounds made short work of the Nucerians loyal to the High Sires.
Thus, in the hours that followed, the last city to resist, Desh'ea was at the mercy of Angron and his gladiators.
He razed it before completely destroying it and personally massacring the High Lords and their families.
Thus, the first act of the 12th Primarch was signed in blood and he was fully avenged.
Angron then ordered the Astartes to erect statues of solid mountain stone on every great city in Nuceria, showing a slave with the severed head of a High Lord in his hand. He left a contingent of the 12th Legion on Nuceria to keep watch. After which, he and his comrades left Nuceria, joining the Infinite, now without fear of reprisal.
Angron felt this victory with a bitter taste. He owed it entirely to the 12th Legion and his mother. And after freeing himself from the yoke of Nuceria, he would be the executioner of many other humans and under the control of the Imperium. On the one hand, he was angry to know this new perspective but on the other, he was grateful to Salem, who demonstrated all her maternal devotion to him and his people.
Angron swore to himself at that moment that he would not touch any human, except those at fault, and vowed to destroy the true enemies who wanted to see Humanity subjugated or destroyed. Namely, the Xenos but especially Chaos, whose hatred towards the Four Gods had a personal turn after what he had seen in his mother's memories, laughing at his suffering.
To be continued... Dulan's assault – Episode 36.
Leman Russ is a Primarch who wanted to prove himself more than anyone to be worthy of the Imperium and his mother. But seeing Horus and Lion-El'Jonson have more victories than him frustrates him to the highest degree.
During a joint assault with the Dark Angels. Leman Russ decided it was time to prove to his brother Lion El'Jonson that he was stronger than him.
Xenocide of Kamenka Troika – Episode 37.
Magnus and the Emperor lead the XVth Legion and the Legion Astorum of the Titans against the Orks of the Kamenka Troika System, who is besieging the Forge-World of Kamenka Ulizarna by inhabiting the three satellite planets. Magnus will show his progress has the greatest magician of the Imperium to his father.
The Compliance of 47-10 (Khur) – Episode 38.
Lorgar after conquering the world of Khur, decided to build the most beautiful religious city of all Imperium. To show before all his devotion to his father, the Emperor of Mankind.