Itolyx deeply enjoyed returning to the Crownworld of the Uhnashret. He enjoyed seeing Rahkaak, and many of the other Immortals in her retinue. It was even pleasant, if a bit odd, to interact with the Overlords who had known him as a mere Immortal. He outranked many of them now, although Itolyx would never let that go to his head. What wasn't entirely enjoyable but more… strange, was interacting with his half-brother.
I understand why father didn't like him, Itolyx couldn't help but think. The palace prostitutes and drugs were no longer present, but it was hard for him to understand Kototep at all. The things he was doing were completely alien to his experience, although they did seem productive. Some of it Itolyx found boring, other parts intriguing.
One thing that was deeply intriguing, though, was when Kototep asked if he would like to see a teaser of the necrontyr show designed for humans.
"Why are we making a work of fiction about our civilization for humans?" Itolyx asked, deeply confused by this.
"Oh, we're doing both actually. We have the necron play for this story completely written out, it should take roughly a week to perform." That was short for a necron play. Itolyx preferred that though… he wasn't as passionate about it as Ahmakeph, but he would still avoid the War in Heaven like an organic avoiding hard vacuum. "The reason for the human play is to get back the investment." Oh… money. Itolyx remembered the days he'd gotten paid, back when he was alive. He didn't exactly get paid now but on the rare occasion he took leave he could easily access some funds from the Dynasty. "Also, this might sound odd, but playwrights of the caliber we need wouldn't want to make a purely necron work. His name won't be attached to that and it does his reputation no good, you see." That did make sense. "For artists it's not just the money you make but the legacy you leave behind."
"I can see that…" It wasn't the same at all, but how would it feel to complete a truly excellent battle with the best maneuvers yet… no one ever knew? Itolyx wouldn't hate it, exactly, but he would be deeply disappointed that his efforts had gone unnoticed. "So this is a 'teaser'?"
"Yes, a small fragment of the first episode designed to intrigue the audience and get them to watch. It's only a few minutes." That short? Itolyx was a bit bemused, but nodded and the fragment of a play was projected onto a screen.
It started as the scene of the interior of a small hut, two people sleeping. Then one of them stirred, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes before slipping out of bed and pulling his clothes on. It was dark outside as he trudged to begin his work and he began to sing. It was an ancient song of the necrontyr, praising the gods for the start of a new day.
The sun began to lighten the sky as others roused, and more voices joined the song. The woman in the hut was shown chivvying her small children out, as they all sang the morning song. The man was shown, working at baking the morning bread, the voices of the other workers joining the song. Priestesses performed their morning rituals, praising the gods and the sun. An entire civilization came to life, waking for the morning and the view pulled back, showing the great city of the necrontyr, the majesty of it all as the song swelled. The transports humming as the light of dawn shone brightly, and a flying transport flew past the camera, almost buzzing it. Then the view turned to the sun itself and light overwhelmed the scene before it shifted… to the face of the Phaeron, stern and aged. Then it panned back, showing he was standing on a balcony, overlooking his realm. He turned away and began to cough, holding a cloth to his mouth as he walked back inside. The cloth was stained with blood.
Itolyx blinked as the screen changed.
"Insert name here?" He said and Kototep buzzed a laugh.
"We haven't decided what the name of it should be yet. It's such an important decision, but can also be easily put off for a while." Yes… that did make sense. "The dashes beneath are where we'll put the date." Ah. "What do you think?"
"This is the story of what happens when the Phaeron dies," Itolyx said. To him, that was quite obvious, and he thought that was the intention. Kototep nodded.
"He has only one legitimate child, a daughter and she is just barely nubile." Itolyx winced a bit internally at the thought… a situation like that was certain war, for most Dynasties. It had been different for Uhnashret but they were so small and even then, there would likely have been murders over who would be the regent. "The Phaeron knows how bad it is of course. The first season will show his decline and death, and how he struggles to prepare things despite all the nobles plotting against him. What did you think of our portrayal of the world though?" …The world…
"It makes me…" Itolyx paused for a moment, trying to understand his feelings. "It makes me uncomfortable. It reminds me of things I wish to forget." The daily song… he knew that song. He could sing it but the thought of doing so made him intensely uncomfortable. And yet… after seeing this, he almost wanted to. "I do not know if I would wish to watch this." It might hurt too much. Yet, Kototep seemed pleased by his response.
"That is good… you might not understand, but the absolute worst reaction someone can have is indifference. If something rouses emotions so powerful it deters you from watching, others will find it powerfully engaging indeed." Itolyx tilted his head, trying to understand. "We all have a tolerance level and humans don't have the same innate, emotional connection to this you do. If it gets that kind of reaction from you I think they will find it intriguing." Yes… he could see that, perhaps. "And we artists always strive to generate emotions, be they positive or negative. I think we're on the right track!" Yes, they might be although Itolyx had thought of something.
"You said this needs to make back the money spent. How much did you spend to create this?" Itolyx was no judge of such things, but it did not look cheap. Kototep hesitated before naming a figure and Itolyx reeled. "That much?!"
"It's actually not a large budget at all for something like this. Reinhart is confident we will earn it back." Oh.. Reinhart was working on this? Itolyx was greatly relieved. He had not interacted with the human too much, when he had been King, but had still developed an impression of great competence. "The real question is how much of a profit we will make. Just getting back the investment is, for this kind of thing, a commercial failure… the goal is profits."
"Interesting," Itolyx said as he reflected on it. He had little interest in the project for itself, but he thought this was good for Kototep.
"You know, enough about my projects. What have YOU been doing?" Itolyx was taken entirely by surprise by that question.
"You would care about that?" Itolyx asked before realizing that was, perhaps, socially inept to say. Fortunately Kototep made glyphs of amusement.
"Well, probably not but you've been patiently listening to me and I'm sure you couldn't care less." Well, he wouldn't quite say that, but it was entirely outside of his experience. "I can return the favor. Although, if you want to tell me something I am interested in, I heard you sparred against Fulgrim? What was it like?"
"He is incredibly fast and strong…" Itolyx spent an enjoyable time detailing the spars he'd had with Fulgrim, and also his observations of the spar between Imotekh and Fulgrim. He'd come to the same conclusion as Manric, that the victory had mostly been one of hardware. Which was not a bad thing, from necron standards, they took pride in their superior technology. Still, Itolyx thought Obyron's occasional victories were more impressive as they were based more heavily on skill.
"I almost wish… but it's foolish." Kototep said, while making a glyph poem about a path untravelled. Itolyx made a questioning glyph. "I sometimes wish I had tried to follow in my father's footsteps. But honestly, I think I would have just died young in a very stupid manner. I was so clumsy as a child, my education included an experienced Immortal trainer… he quickly labeled me as hopeless and told me to be an administrator or cryptek." Harsh, but if he'd been that bad, probably the kindest thing to do. "I still sometimes wonder though. I grew out of that clumsiness."
"You could learn now, if you wish," Itolyx said, wondering if he was really offering to train Kototep. But then, why not? Kototep tilted his head a bit.
"It seems rather late… but why not? I do have a bit of combat experience now, although I'm not sure if braining a few orks counts for much." Well, perhaps. Orks could be quite fierce. "But you know, I would enjoy that." Ah, wonderful.
As they went to the arena, Itolyx reflected on the new relationship he'd discovered with Kototep. They had little in common, but they were both trying to reach out and find common ground. It was such a marked difference from the Overlord who had begrudged his elevation, so long ago and he credited most of the change to their new souls. Having a soul did not change who they were… but it reminded them of who they were and in sixty million years, they had all forgotten. They hadn't even realized it, many of them, but they had.
It was so good to have that back.
Hammering out all of the details of the trade agreement took almost a week.
That was because it was, fundamentally, a very important document and both sides wanted to get the best deal and make sure everything was covered. Several times they took breaks, to pour over proposed items and the status of the treaty overall. Guilliman found this all intensely interesting. He'd hardly ever gotten the chance to engage in this, but these kinds of small minutiae were definitely what he excelled at. Imotekh found it nearly as fascinating, from the few things the Stormlord let drop. Manric just had endless patience, attending to his duty with grace and skill.
Guilliman did have to rotate his guard, though, because they uniformly hated every moment of it. It was hard to blame them… they weren't even directly involved; their only duty was to stand around and look fierce. They couldn't even read a book or engage in games, since they were technically supposed to be protecting him from a possible sneak attack. They served well and loyally, but it was so intensely boring that Guilliman took pity on them and changed them out regularly.
The tours of Hope went reasonably well. They were highly structured, showing the Marines who were interested some culturally relevant locations and giving them a chance to try the local cuisine and drinks. The tours were run by human Hopians who were well prepared, and the Space Marines only met humans and pwi-necrons who were also well prepared. It amused Guilliman slightly to know that Hopian humans found Space Marines far more unnerving than xenos. But then, they were intimately familiar with the xenos while the alterations the Marines went through were entirely foreign to them.
Of course, he did have some Inquisitors along who wanted to explore the culture with the eye towards promoting worship of the Emperor. And they brought him some extremely interesting information.
"This world is entirely infested with xenos culture. I have never seen anything this bad," one of them said disapprovingly, which Guilliman thought was eyeroll worthy. They had sworn allegiance to the Uhnashret Dynasty voluntarily and were obviously combining their technologies. Had he truly expected anything else? "I believe there is no point in trying to promote the worship of the Emperor here, it is simply a waste of time." Well, good? Not that Guilliman had any use for the forms of worship the Hopians practiced but knowing that humans worshipped his father, someone Guilliman had personally known, was just terribly wrong. If it weren't for the situation, he might have tried to correct it but the situation with Chaos was what it was. Also, Manric's words on the matter haunted him… if he was right, trying to fix this would be going against the very nature of humanity.
"Yes, we know you disapprove of everything Khaeros," a female Inquisitor, of higher rank and whom Guilliman actually respected, said impatiently. Then she looked Guilliman in the eye before making her report. "I do not believe there is any Chaos here, although apparently a religious event happened recently." Oh? "They say that Manric Duleth fulfilled an ancient prophecy, dating back to the founding of this colony and claimed the 'Sword of God' and 'Shield of God' to give to Fulgrim." Guilliman blinked. Fulgrim had just told him that Manric had given him the weapons and that they dated back to ancient Terra. He'd examined them himself and they were incredibly fine, perhaps equal to the flaming blade of the Emperor, in their own way. Fulgrim also had told him how the shield worked, which was extremely impressive. The technology to do such a thing was simply lost.
"I knew about the weapons of course, and that Manric provided them. But what was this religious event?" Guilliman asked and she did her best to detail it, as well as the speculation that Manric must have directly spoken to an angel. Apparently the priests and newcasters were desperate to speak to him, but he was avoiding them like a Space Marine avoiding filling out a report.
(not that all Marine chapters were terrible at their paperwork but Guilliman had gotten far too many reports that were the military equivalent of a child's sketch)
(given the distances and times involved, it was all pretty pointless anyway but still frustrating given how minimal a fully acceptable report could be)
"I see. The simplest way to understand what happened is just to ask him," Guilliman said with a small smile. "He won't be in any position to evade the question." Had Manric even told Imotekh about this? Guilliman had a feeling he might not have. This could be highly amusing, putting him in the hot seat. Cruel? Perhaps, but Manric was so completely unflappable that it was almost annoying.
"Could I perhaps be present for that? I am highly interested," she asked and Guilliman had mixed feelings.
"As long as you understand you will have to stay for the rest of the negotiations," he warned. She just nodded. "Very well then."
The next day they went to the negotiations and Guilliman observed Manric examining the Inquisitor curiously. This was probably his first time seeing a member of the Inquisition, now that he thought about it… they were rarely engaged in actual war zones and definitely not against the Necrons, where their talents would mostly be wasted. And she was worth a second look… she wore a very finely crafted set brown armor, inlaid with a tasteful bit of gold. Her hair was tied to a tight, matronly bun at the base of her neck, which kept it neatly out of the way and would let her don her helmet in an instant. That helmet was hung at her waist, currently not being worn. On the other side of her waist hung a book in chains, likely some form of grimoire. The chest of the armor was decorated with the Imperial aquila.
"This is Inquisitor Sterngard. Before we begin, she has a question for you," Guilliman said and to his intense amusement, he could see Manric stiffen. It was a slight thing, but there.
"I have heard about your recent religious experience. Is it true you spoke to an Angel?" she asked bluntly and Guilliman saw Imotekh turn his head to look at Manric. So he HADN'T been told about that. "An Angel of your God?"
"Uh… I prefer to say a non-Chaos aligned warp entity," Manric said and Guilliman smiled internally. Discomforting someone who was normally so incredibly calm really WAS amusing. Cruel, perhaps, but amusing. "But yes, our priests would define it that way."
"Would the Angel itself define it that way?" Inquisitor Sterngard and Manric gave a reluctant nod. "I see. Can you describe this Angel, and what came to pass?" Manric glanced at Imotekh and was given a firm nod so he divulged part of the story. He refused to say precisely why he had summoned the Angel, except that it was to help a friend and fortunately, Sterngard respected that. She was more interested in the Angel itself and Manric's description of it.
"Interesting… thank you, that is all I wanted to know," she said and Manric quickly went back to the treaty. From the way Imotekh was looking at him, Guilliman wondered if he was going to be in a bit of trouble later for not mentioning this, but then he put it out of mind. It wasn't his problem, the negotiations were.
He was confident they would be finished fairly soon.
9006082.M42
Einar, my old friend, please assist me with something very sensitive. Make sure this does not fall into the wrong hands.
For context, to anyone reading this, I went with Roboute Guilliman to the planet Hope for the signing of the great treaty with the Sautekh Empire. I wished to investigate this strain of heresy called 'Christianity'. The Hopians contend that this worship is actually very old, predating the Emperor entirely. This is of course heresy, but the great Primarch confirms it is factually correct.
This ancient form of worship does not appear to be affiliated with Chaos and bears strange resemblances to worship of the Emperor. However, what is truly of interest was the account of the pwi-necron xenos named Manric Duleth. He had an encounter with a non-Chaos aligned entity that he identified as an Angel. This Angel directed him to retrieve ancient weapons from old Terra, and gift those weapons to the Imperium of Man.
The Angel was described as four circles of eyes, rolling on each other, with a core that could have been crystal or fire, seeming to change appearance. It was held aloft by wings that were not apparently connected to the body but beating slowly. As you might know, this description matches certain Angels of the Emperor that sometimes function as vehicles for living saints. I did not wish to make my interest too obvious but when I questioned, Manric told me this Angel is called a Throne, because they were traditionally the conveyance of God.
What this means, I cannot speculate without risking heresy. Einar, can you please make sure this is passed only to those we trust? Thank you and may the Emperor guide you in these trying times.