[Self-Shaping] Level up!
[Self-Shaping] is now at level 2!
A rush of power and knowledge flooded my mind. And I became aware of the fact that I could now make minor alterations to my body – things that would've otherwise taken the work of supreme genetics and a lifetime of physical conditioning. Though, nothing beyond the norm, of course. So, I made my tendons stronger and tougher, taking up three kilograms of Biomass. After that, I tailored my muscles for greater endurance; I didn't quite need addition strength, though I could've done that by inducing a form of hypertrophy, but – again – I was strong enough as I was. I also made my skin harder and denser, but kept the flexibility; it wouldn't make me invincible and neither did it make my skin anywhere close to the protection afforded by Flak Armor, but it'd – at the very least – protect me from some shrapnel.
With [Self-Shaping] only at level 2, I couldn't make a lot of changes. I couldn't, for instance, alter my internal organs and bones; I couldn't touch my veins or my blood. All of that would come later. The one upgrade that I was supremely grateful for was the lowered Biomass cost of reconstituting my body parts – a 5% discount was small, but it came for free and I assumed that number would rise as the skill leveled up more and more.
With that done, I decided to see if the daemon was actually dead.
The Frag Grenade cracked and boomed, sending bits of metal and stone flying in all directions. A few of them hit me, but my hardened skin stopped most of them; the metal pipe that was sticking out of the stomach was easily mended as I simply pulled it right off. It was painful, but I found myself somewhat... detached from the idea of pain. I'd been detached from it ever since I awoke from death. The pain was there, but it was more akin to an alarm, telling me that some damage had been done or was being done to my body. Strange. But, also incredibly useful. I threw away the bloody pipe, but not before absorbing all the blood and bits of flesh that clung onto it. I then closed the hole in my belly, before I walked towards the smoking hole where the daemon had been.
Most of it wasn't there.
Amidst the smoking ruins was the daemon's right arm, burnt and charred, and bleeding a foul black blood. But the daemon itself wasn't there. The creature, it seemed, decided to run away, instead of staying and fighting – the coward. I spat on the small humanoid outline it'd left behind. And there I noted the hoof prints that confirmed its cowardice, leading away from the ruins – away from me. Something blazed within me, then, a fervent and righteous flame that could now no longer be quenched with the retreat of my enemy. "Coward! All you can do is run away! You're nothing! You're less than nothing! All that you are is fear and nothing more! Coward! Return to the nothingness that awaits you and your master!"
Of course, it was only right that such creatures should scurry away from the might of mankind. My goading did not make it return.
I glanced down at the appendage on the ground. I eyed it for a moment, an arm that was as long as two-thirds of my entire body, charred black from its pincer-like hands all the way to the elbow. Strange, bony growths adorned it, horrendous and mutated things that only made me want to burn the sickening thing. And that's exactly what I wanted to do. However, I also knew the value of knowing my enemy. I had detonated a plasma grenade on the daemon, blew up an overcharged Lasgun on its face, and then threw a frag grenade atop it for good measure and still it lived. I had to know how to best kill such a thing and the arm, I figured, might just point me to the right direction, at least.
Of course, I was not foolish enough to touch it directly. I grabbed a nearby piece of jagged metal, about three feet long, and prodded the daemonic arm a few times to make sure it didn't suddenly come to life, grabbing and slicing; I've had enough of that daemon cutting me up. It was only when I confirmed that the arm was not, in fact, capable of some form of unnatural movement, did I finally grab it. And, when I did, a new prompt appeared in front of me.
Foreign Energy Detected...
Purify and analyze? (yes) or (no)
I stared at it for a long time. On one hand, I had a daemonic appendage and common sense ruled that I burn it as all things that belonged to the Ruinous Powers were to be treated with fire and death. However, here was a chance to learn more about the great enemy. Because, honestly, if I asked a Commissar how best to kill a daemon, I'd probably get shot in the head for heresy. But I just fought one and I couldn't kill it because I didn't know how. My faith in the God Emperor demanded that I purged all the enemies of mankind and it was, therefore, a duty of mine to know more about my enemies.
With that, I decided that (yes) I wanted it purified and analyzed.
The daemonic arm disintegrated into a cloud of golden dust.
Tainted Warp/Aetherial/Noospheric energy detected... purifying... analyzing... integrating... new skill unlocked!
My eyes widened. "What?"
[Warp Shaping, level 1, 0% progress]
And so, with it, came knowledge and understanding. Suddenly, I understood that daemons were beings of thought and energy and that it was... exceedingly difficult to kill them, because of that. In fact, at best, I could injure one to the point that it was simply banished back to the Realm of the Ruinous Powers, where it hailed. However, the energy that daemons were made of was not, in itself, inherently evil, merely tainted by the dark forces. And, like any energy, it could be manipulated and controlled – shaped. And I understood, then, that I now had the ability to shape this very energy. For now, however, all I could do was absorb and purify, sending it into a space of its own that only I could access, much like my Biomass space; I couldn't quite use that energy for anything, just yet.
The best part, however, was that I now knew how to kill a daemon: all I'd have to do was touch it and, slowly, absorb its essence into myself, until there was nothing left of it, much like my ability to absorb Biomass, which I could – in theory – do to a living person if I wanted to.
I grinned. The next time I encountered that cowardly filth, there would be no escape for it.
Praise be to the God Emperor and his eternal work.
With nothing else to do, I settled on finding as many corpses as I could and absorbing their Biomass – of which I gathered nearly 500 kgs to replace the ones I lost battling that filthy ugly daemon. I even looted a spare set of mismatched clothes and a mostly intact flak armor from a poor man whose head got blown off. It was missing a single pauldron, which shouldn't be much of a problem. The flak armor complimented my hardened skin as it was meant to protect the wearer from shrapnel and other forms of low-velocity projectiles. It wouldn't do anything against a daemon with sharp hands, but it would do well when I was detonating a frag grenade between myself and said daemon.
Oh, and I also found an intact helmet.
Seeing as there was nothing else for me to loot or absorb, I moved on.
Kuresh was, as far as I remembered, which really wasn't much, at least two days away from the base camp, but that was two days' worth of travel on an APC. It'd probably take me at least a week to get there on foot. So, I started jogging. The only way I was getting there, after all, was on foot. There were no transports to take me there. And, I suppose, that was for the better; it made me a much smaller target – much quieter too. The enemy, whoever and whatever they might be, probably wouldn't see me coming. I was but one guardsman, after all, insignificant in the grand scheme.
But, was I really still insignificant?
I suppose, that was up to me to decide.
Minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days as I walked. The daemon had stopped stalking me. I no longer felt its presence or caught its foul scent. It was during this long journey that I realized two things: I no longer felt exhausted, but at the cost of a single kilogram of Biomass a day, and I no longer felt thirsty or hungry, also at the cost of a single kilogram of Biomass a day. It was certainly a surprise, but a welcome one. I've lost count of how many good men and women died, because of a lack of food and drinkable water, often resorting to cannibalism, which would end with them getting shot by a Commissar. But, I no longer had that weakness. I could, in theory, serve the Imperium forever, never tiring, never sleeping, never eating – forever fighting.
It didn't sound too bad, actually. It was certainly my pleasure and privilege to serve the Imperium, its people, and the Emperor in such a manner.
It was on the third day that I discovered an enemy base camp of sorts. It wasn't large enough to be considered a forward base and it was located in the middle of nowhere, which led me to believe it was meant to house important resources of some kind or another. It was located at the base of a small mountain, right next to a flowing river of filth, which – I figured – the enemy was purifying and drinking. There were around twenty or so structures, with one that loomed over the rest, a demented thing, decorated with skulls and screaming men and women who'd become one with the walls of the structure; I couldn't tell if they were still conscious through that. But, whatever the case, I swore to myself that I would grant them the Emperor's Mercy. They deserved as much, whoever they were. I also counted two armored vehicles, malformed Rhinos that'd clearly been tainted by the Ruinous Powers, alongside six Traitor Astartes with purple armor.
The Traitor Astartes presented the biggest problem, because no amount of regeneration was going to help me kill them. If there was only one, then I might've been able to perform that suicidal Cadian maneuver of shoving a plasma grenade into a small gap in their power armor, but I didn't think that was even possible with six of them; I'd be gunned down, before I ever got close.
Clearly, however, the Traitorous Astartes were here to guard whatever was in that tortured structure in the middle of the base, which meant that I could achieve victory by circumventing them and simply blowing up that large building or otherwise sabotaging it enough that it simply stopped working. That might just work. So, with that in mind, I uttered a quick prayer to the God Emperor, asking for his guidance and blessing, before I slowly descended from my position, crawling; as I did, I made sure to send all of my equipment, excluding my clothes and armor, into my Inventory. There were plenty of boulders and other ruined structures surrounding the camp, enough that I could probably sneak my way through. Aside from the Traitor Astartes, there were quite a few heretics here and there, but they were armed with crude weapons and only a few of them even had Las Pistols.
I could do this.
The Traitor Astartes, as far as I noticed, didn't seem to be moving all that much. They lingered on near the Rhinos and kept to themselves. If they were at all talking to each other, then they must've been doing it through a communication link of some sort. The heretics bowed whenever they passed the Traitor Astartes, but otherwise stayed away; they seemed to just be walking around, not doing anything in particular. Though, I noticed... a few squabbles here and there, heretics engaging in brawls with each other at random; I didn't understand why and neither did I care to. The structure itself was relatively lightly guarded, compared to the rest of the camp, at least. The large opening and the descending platform made me think that this was some sort of factory, meant to churn out... things for their army. Though, again, I wasn't sure just what its purpose actually was. My goal was to infiltrate it and destroy it.
Which was actually going to be rather difficult, since I was not trained in infiltration and sabotage. In fact, I was hardly trained at all. But, that wasn't going to stop me from trying.
So, I crawled behind the boulders and under the ruined structures as quietly as I possibly could, which was precisely why I sent all of my equipment into my Inventory. I breathed in and kept myself low. Progress would be incredibly slow, but it'd still be progress. It didn't seem like the inhabitants of the enemy base were in any sort of hurry, either; in fact, as I briefly glanced out, it seemed that more than a few of the heretics were asleep. That was good. It gave me more time to accomplish my goal. I kept on crawling until I reached the edge of the base; by then, the boulders and ruins that offered coverage were few and far between. And that was when I initiated the next step of my plan.
I reached into my Inventory and took five frag grenades, all of which I then primed and threw right into the far side of the base, away from me. The Traitor Astartes were the first to move, even before the grenades actually detonated. A moment later, they did, and the entirety of the enemy base came to life. But then, something happened that I was not expecting. One of the grenades must've detonated right next to something chemically unstable, resulting in an explosion of blue flames powerful enough to send one of the Traitor Astartes hurling backwards. The nearby heretics were shredded and burned by the explosion, which then triggered a storm of fire to ignite across the camp, devouring everything and anything in its path - a rush of blue flames.
I watched, perplexed, wondering what I'd just done.
Well, whatever it was, it certainly was devastatingly effective, because I'm quite certain I just killed nearly all the heretic forces. Those that didn't die in the cascade of fiery explosions had panicked and ran away, leaving only the Trator Astartes.
Praise be to the God Emperor for that.
As I turned, however, I found myself staring at the barrel of a bolter - a very large bolter.
Huh, how'd that get there?
One of the Traitor Astartes stood not three feet away from me, aiming a bolter right into my face. My enemy seemed even larger from up close, over nine-feet tall and covered entirely in thick ceramite plates - a veritable living engine of war. No wonder my entire regiment was wiped out during the charge. What hope did we have against such horrors? What hope did we have against such an enemy? What could mortal men do against them?
Nothing.
But, then again, I wasn't exactly a mortal man anymore, was I?
And before me was not an insurmountable wall. No, before me was an enemy that I simply hadn't killed yet.
Surprisingly, the giant, encased in hellish purple armor, chuckled in amusement. I stared at the snarling visage on the figure's helmet, wondering how in the God Emperor's name was this walking tank able to move that fast and that quietly, without me ever noticing. "That was amusing, mortal. But did you really think you could escape the senses of an Astartes? Know that I, Telros of the Emperor's Children, acknowledge your bravery and your audacity."
"Ah, son of a-" The Astartes pulled the trigger of his bolter and I had just the barest of moments to barely turn my head aside as the bolt round tore through my head, piercing right through my skull, and exploding, sending my brain splattering everywhere. And, I watched, briefly, as my body fell, like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. The Traitor Astartes took one last look at my limp and headless body, before turning and walking away.
Tsk, that hurt.
As long as even a sliver of my brain remained, I wouldn't die; I was rather certain that was going to be surprising for a lot of my enemies.
I did not reconstitute myself a new body immediately, however, as I simply kept on watching everything unfold through the one eye I had left - an eye that had somehow remained miraculously attached to the brain fragment that held most of my consciousness now. And so, I watched and waited for an opportunity to strike.