-Planet: Trantey II -Year: 914.M34 -Location: Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector -POV: Adamus Rogelius captain of the fifth company, Dark angels chapter
The talk with Inquisitor William went as well as most would expect, from all of the people within the imperial hierarchy, the inquisition was the most difficult to deal with. These mortals were different from most others of their kind, prideful, merciless, and cruel, and the worst of all, their death does not go unnoticed. If Inquisitor Husan knows of the fallen, he had to plan another way to deal with him.
Captain Adamus examined the burnt corpse of the traitor Astarte, his previously dark green and black armor was now completely charcoal black. On the armor of the heretic could be seen a symbol, an icon most would not recognize, especially in its current bastardized state. It was one of the ancient symbols of Caliban that have been combined with the symbol of the lord of change, only the knights of the inner circle knew what they meant, and the significance they held, to see it in such a lessened state was quite disheartening.
It was a shame that Adamus didn't get the chance to bring back the traitor for interrogation, but what's done is done, the traitor was dead without having the chance to repent. The only task left to do was to burn the corpse and dispose of the equipment, then assist the PDF forces to deal with the remaining daemon infestations. The subsequences purging of those who witnessed the chaotic entities won't be easy either.
Still, there was something dubious about the way the fallen had died that brothered Adamus's thought to no end, the corpse was burned from the inside.
'Voltkite weaponry perhaps?' Adamus questioned, most voltkite weapons were the property of Mechanicus and they did not like to share such high-tech weaponry too often, so Adamus only took note of the idea as only a possibility and continued to observe the corps, currently being tended by the apothecary.
"Captain" An arcane voice called out his title, Adamus turned towards the voice and saw the chapter librarian looking at him "There is something I wish to discuss" said the librarian, there was something in his eyes that Adamus couldn't quite put his hand on, suspicion? doubt?
The chapter Psyker then looked towards his other battle brothers present at the scene "In private" he added. Adamus quickly pick up what he meant by this, he wanted to talk about the fallen where their brother couldn't hear them, only the knights of the inner circle and a select few of their brothers were allowed to know of the fallen, such was the danger that the knowledge.
Adamus nodded to his brother before the two walked outside and into another building, after making sure no one was near enough to hear them, the Librarian spoke "Warp fire brother Captain, the cause of his death" The librarian informed the captain, this draw the Captain's attention, Adamus slightly nodded his head, gesturing to the Psyker to continue his explanation "Captain, do you remember the human standing by the Inquisitor's side when you spoke with him? the one with the Silver covering his face" The librarian asked.
Adamus's eyes narrowed as the images began to flow back to his mind. One of the benefits of being an Astarte was photographic memory, allowing him to remember the events as vividly as the day they happened, it was hard to make a space marine forget anything. The Captain indeed remembered the Inquisitor's retinue member, alongside another human who looked like he was in the last years of his life, at that moment he never bothered to inspect the strange bodyguard, only making plans on the possible ways he could kill him, besides, he had little reason to suspect him of anything, their main suspect was the Inquisitor himself.
"I do remember him, brother, what of it?"
"Have the human caused you any sensation, brother?" the Captain shook his head in response, as far as he knew, the Silver-faced human held little to no significance compared to the Inquisitor himself. What has this human done to attain his brother's attention?
"Nothing, brother? nothing at all?" again, Adamus shook his head.
"Enough with the questions, Julius, tell me what's on your mind, brother" Adamus said, stopping the Librarian's questions from going further "The Inquisitors are known to have odd retinue members, a human wearing Silver is hardy odd compared to... others" the word came out of Adamus's mouth with venom, he could still remember the Inquisitor in Cadian Sector, with that accursed Eldar as his right hand, it was hard to fathom how could an Inquisitor stoop so low as to accept the Alien filth in his entourage. The fact that he was dead warmed his heart a little.
Julius sighed, his face frowned as if disappointed by Adamus's answer "He is a Psyker, Brother" Adamus took the information in stride, so what if he is a Psyker? the Imperium uses them to fill different needs, the Inquisition was no different, in fact, they use them more often than necessary "Since you were incapable of sensing it, let me illuminate you to the real reason why I brought it up. He is a powerful Psyker, Adamus, I could sense the power oozing from him even whilst he tried to hide it, I fear that he surpassed anyone I have met, even me"
The Captain's eyes widened in shock, how couldn't he? Julius was a prodigy even amongst fellow space marines, one of the few Alpha grade Psyker within the entirety of Segmentum Obscurus, to think that a mortal could surpass him was ridiculous.
"How?"
"How does not matter, what matters now is that he has done so. A Psyker of that grade capable of controlling his own strength, many Inquisitors will do anything to attain such acolyte" Julius explained.
"Does he know?" the Captain finally asked the question that was bothering his mind, if the Inquisitor's acolyte was truly that capable then killing a fallen was not beyond his abilities, the question is, how much does he know?
"He very well may have but we cannot move hastily, we can't make a move now" Julius was speaking the truth, if they are to eliminate the Inquisitor now, they will be sought after as the first suspects of killing an Inquisitor, the demonic threat was over, if the Inquisitor dies now, they will draw attention towards themselves.
Still, the information Julius has revealed to him was bugging his thoughts, the human wearing silver, how could he possibly surpass their Librarian?
It was not unheard of for some mortals to be quite capable but to surpass a Space Marine? madness! it requires several lifetimes of a mortal to reach Julius's level and a greater will to remain sane, how could a human top that? perhaps they were not the only ones with the secrets.
"Of course brother, you are right. We will observe them for now until the time for action comes, until then we must make haste to Ulanor, another sighting of the Fallen" Adamus said, he wanted to end the threat of their secret being exposed right here and be done with it, but the odds were against him, his company was needed elsewhere.
The Librarian nodded, despite his acceptance of the situation, Adamus could see the displeasure in the Psyker's eyes, what else could they do? the fallen were the responsibility of every son of Lion, someone had to deal with them.
"Will this sin ever be washed away?" the son of Lion questioned as Julius left him alone to his thoughts, no one was there to answer his question. With a heavy sigh that breathed out the exhaustion from his lungs. The Captain began to walk away, many tasks needed attending to with little time to speak of.
-Inquisitorial vessel Fatorum ruptor -Year: 914.M34 -Location: Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector -POV: William Husan
"INQUISITORIAL MESSAGE. CLARIFICATION REQUIRED! INQUISITORIAL AGENT DETECTED. WELCOME INQUISITOR"
The Inquisitor sat in the darkness, the only thing allowing him to see was the faint illuminating light of the cogitator, the green light of the screen that was reflecting on his eyes. He has been searching through the archives of the ships for the last five hours or so, the subject of his research being the Dark Angles space marine chapter, their recent activities on 'Trantey II' has aroused his suspicion. His research ended with no conclusion.
The records and the history of the chapter, or at least the part which was recorded within the Ordo's archives, were more or less clean. Throughout their history, there were no records of heretical suspicion from the chapter, though there were more than a few complaints about them suddenly leaving their engagements without warning and leaving the imperial forces to fend for themselves. Although dubious, it was not heretical. Besides the sudden departures, there were no other records of anti-Imperial activity from their chapter, for an outside spectator, their chapter was the paragon of loyalty and honor, the key words being "Outside spectator".
William sighed, his hours of research bared no results, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find something to justify his distrust of the Space marines. Perhaps he was too paranoid, and the Astartes were simply here to help clean up the enemy remains. But then again, his job demanded him to be as such, no amount of paranoia was too little for an Inquisitor, alright maybe his statement was a little exaggerated but his point stands.
Seeing the vanity in his efforts, William decided to stop his study and tend to other tasks that needed his attention, mainly the visit of his colleague, Inquisitor Greyfax of the Ordo Hereticus, the same woman he was trained with under the guidance of the same master, too bad his teacher went insane before she could see how well her students have done. The thing that bothered him the most was the speed of her arrival, the trip that took at least ten years was greatly shortened thanks to a warp phenomenon occurring in the Askellon sector, somehow reducing a decade-long travel time to only two weeks.
The main problem with Greyfax was what she wanted to do with Jermai, her interrogation methods although effective, were extremely unpleasant for the victim. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, William himself has done worse to people, the issue was that she was going to do it to his retinue and successor, those interrogation methods leave the victim scarred for life, what was he supposed to do with a crippled acolyte?
The Inquisitorial acolyte Jermai is a powerful Psyker, perhaps the best human psyker William has ever seen. He is a pure human with no augmentation yet, he possesses knowledge and skill beyond his age, the type of wisdom that was only seen in the oldest within the Imperium. And now, said knowledge was under threat of being destroyed through interrogation, the knowledge that could improve the Imperium's position of power greatly. William tried to think of a way to avert the interrogation but he couldn't think of any, not a way that wasn't going to threaten his rank and Jermai's life. He couldn't force Greyfax to stop, she was investigating him under the authority of the Ordo Malleus and Ordo Hereticus, doing so will cause them to label him and his crew as heretics or renegades, killing Greyfax and running away would result in the same sentence. No matter what he did, Interrogation was inevitable.
'Perhaps a discussion is needed?' his voice in the back of his mind suggested, perhaps if he was to be informed of the situation, the threat of losing him both to treachery and insanity will be reduced. Maybe he could even convince Greyfax to... soften her methods a bit by telling her of Jermai's benefits, just imagining the Psykers trained by him was enough to temp many of his colleagues, sure they won't be as strong and capable as he is, but it was still a massive improvement.
"Inquisitor, can you hear me?" the sudden eruption of a voice from his vox unit took William out of his thoughts "This is Ishmael"
William coughed to clear his throat before answering "I hear you. What could possibly excuse you intruding on my labor?"
"Our communication unit has received a message from the representative of Ordo Herticus, Inquisitor Greyfax has informed us about her inspection in another few days" the old Arbite informed, she hasn't given them a specific date, this meant two things, either there were still disturbances within the warp, not allowing for a precise calculation, or she is doing this on purpose so to catch them off guard while they were still preparing "I was hoping for an order, Inquisitor"
"Don't show any hostile intent, be cautions but don't give her a reason to be suspicious, thrones know that she isn't lacking in that regard" the Inquisitor jested weakly "We have nothing to hide, just make sure to keep silent about Jermai. You and Avina both, you know nothing of him, understood?"
"I'll make sure to inform Avina, Ishmael over and out" with the last orders being given, the vox link went offline.
Since the specific date of Greyfax's arrival wasn't clear, William quickly took action, deleting all the "Unnecessary" files from the ship's archives. Perhaps a conversation is required in Jermai's case. Normally, he would send a messenger to inform his retinue of his orders, but this time he decided to personally inform him, both to reduce the possible hostility after the interrogation and to take advice about the Dark angels space marines.
William turned to his wrist-mounted device, a small personal data unit that granted access to several perks not found in larger computing constructs. Perks like allowing access to all the ship's security systems with a touch of his fingers. Once William located the Witch, he began to make his way towards him, he was within the Magos's district from all places, what in the emperor's name was he even doing there? Magos didn't welcome anyone to his workshop.
Inquisitor shook his head, it didn't matter, he'll find out once he reached there.
- 15 minutes later -
William stared at the Ceramite gate that lead to the manufactorum section of the ship, dedicated to the priesthood of mars, it was where the tech-priests under his service repaired and maintained the soldier's equipment, they were also responsible for the maintenance of the ship and crafting new equipment. The tech-priests were responsible for the smooth sailing of the ship and did their duty without complaint, the only thing they asked, was to stop anyone outside of their order from entering the sector, especially unstable individuals like psykers.
Without a single word, the gate began to open, the Magos most likely knew he was there, his brain was connected to the thermal, video, audio, and Auspex units around this section of the ship, how he handled all these forms of information was beyond him. It seems like all that augmentation was not only for show.
"Welcome. Inquisitor" a robotic voice welcomed him, the tech adept's voice was being directly translated from binary in real time since you could still hear the chants ones and zeros in the background "How. May. We. Assist. You. Today?"
"Why is my Acolyte here? you weren't so welcoming of the outsiders before" the Inquisitor replied sarcastically to ease the mood, you should always be careful what you say around the machine cult, offending them will result in terrible consequences.
William cringed as the gesture was completely lost to the half-machine cyborg "Inquisitorial. Acolyte. Currently. Studying. Under. Our. Order. By. Permission. Granted. By. Toll Lexion" a servo skull soon detached from a nearby wall and floated around them "A4-USS5134. Will. Guide. You. Inquisitor" William nodded as the tech adept quickly left the scene, their kind was always busy with one thing or another, so his sudden departure didn't offend the Inquisitor, how can you be mad at someone who runs your ship?
The Inquisitor followed the Skull as it navigated through the maze that was the martian section of the ship, everywhere you looked was a piece of damaged equipment being repaired by the lower ranking adepts while the higher ranking priests worked on more important tasks, William saw Toll himself as he was tinkering with one of the few combat servitors on his ship. It was hard to imagine them as something that was once human, especially since they functioned as tanks on the battlefield, not to mention that they were tube-born, mere clones with no consciousness... most of the time, they were never human to begin with.
A sudden ping from the floating Skull brought the Inquisitor out of his thoughts, they have reached their destination. William blinked several times in confusion at the sight of the scene before him. The reason for his arrival was here, working on a machine on a table. A woman who William recognized as a member of the mechanicus forces on his ship, was beside him, teaching him about the different parts of a weapon. A tech adept was sharing his knowledge with Jermai! the machine cult was sharing its knowledge!
The Silver masked Witch gestured for the tech adept to leave, she looked back towards the Inquisitor before doing as told, there were traces of annoyance on her face as she saw the Inquisitor. The machine cultist looked like a woman with only a few distinctions, such as several augmentations, namely four mechadendrites attached to her back and her long worm-like hair made of elastic metal.
"Welcome my lord" William's eyes turned away from the woman leaving and stopped on the Witch who has stopped his work and was facing him "How may I be of service to you, Inquisitor?" the Witch said as he took off his dirty gloves and changing them with a pair of clean ones, his cloths weren't the same thing he used to wear either, it was the same design but shorter sleeves and was easier to move around in.
"Why in throne's name is the machine cult teaching you anything?" the Inquisitor asked as he sat down at a chair Jermai brought him, the questions he wanted to ask before were completely lost to the unbelievable event that just happened before his eyes.
"That is your question?" the Silver masked Witch asked, he sounded disappointed, did he expect him to ask something different?
"The knowledge they have shared is menial, a little over what they teach to Imperial guard technicians. They won't dare to share anything more valuable than that, at most, I will be able to make simple las weaponry on my own" the Witch chuckled, the Inquisitor didn't know why would Toll even allow for this to happen.
'I don't know what madness grasped your mind, Toll, if this information gets out, Jermai and you may as well be labeled as hereteks and by some extend, me' this was more trouble than William asked for, he was already under the radar of two Ordos, he didn't want to give Greyfax any more excuses to suspect him "I don't remember allowing you to pursue the scientific arts" the Inquisitor frowned "What could you possibly give them to equal the knowledge you have gained?"
Before the Witch could answer, another voice interrupted their conversation, the voice came from the Servo Skull's vocal unit, William almost forget that he was still here "Inquisitor William Husan identified, granting access to demanded files" the Skull spoke in the same robotic tone as his master, though he directly spoke in gothic so his voice was saved from the irritating binary chant of earlier adept "The information granted to Acolyte Jermai, was in exchange for biomass of the Acolyte for research purposes" the familiar informed.
"Biomass?"
"Indeed, my lord. Our Magos was quite interested when he realized the level of my genetic purity, he was willing to even share some of their knowledge in order to study me" William's eyes slightly widened as he heard Jermai's explanation, he saw how Lexiom was uncharacteristically excited after taking a DNA test from his Acolyte, he even came to his study and began ranting about the possible things he could learn from such an untainted genetic material, but apparently what he failed to realize, was how important was this discovery to the Magos for him to share his knowledge, even if said information was a fraction of what he had.
William took a deep breath to calm himself "You know what? do as you wish" he said to a bewildered Jermai who tilted his head in confusion.
"My lord?" he said, attempting to understand the reason behind his frustration, he was stopped by the Inquisitor's hand, waving him to stop thinking about the situation.
The Inquisitor looked around, and although no one was there to listen except for the servo Skull, he didn't wish to take any chances. This place was most likely, no, this place was definitely infested with listening devices, this place, and the entire section around this area.
"Come, Jermai, walk with me" the Inquisitor gestured for him to follow him outside, and the Psyker followed his superior without complaint, soon, they made their way outside and into the halls of the ship.
Once William was sure no one was spying on them, he turned towards the Witch who was waiting for further instructions, for a creature of this strength, he was quite compliant.
"What do wish to speak of first, Inquisitor? the Astartes or my trail?" William blinked a few times, of course the Witch knew what was in his mind, the damnable thing knew everything by the looks of it.
"You know of your trail?"
"I haven't come as far as I have with blind eyes, Inquisitor. To relieve your heart of the guilt, I will accept my judgment with no malice" the Silver mask answered his question without William needing to answer it, he should be relieved for hearing the news yet, the emotionless dread that the Witch radiated knowingly or unknowingly prevented that. This part of Jermai has always disturbed him, something about this being was wrong.
"Don't just brush it off as a cinch, Interrogation is demanding to the mind and soul, it is a test of purity, beyond torture"
The Inquisitor's warnings did nothing to flinch the Psyker, if anything, it seems to strengthen his resolve "Nothing of good comes without hardship. Pain is part of the test, to ensure our purity, to judge where we stand in the eyes of the Emperor. I shall accept my fate as he demands, Inquisitor" the Witch answered with a surprising show of piety and faith, enough to make William question the validity behind his words, where exactly did the Witch hide his faithful side when they needed it the most? or perhaps the Witch always had this side and William was simply blind to it, it won't be the first time William made such mistakes.
William wanted to say something about this new side of the Psyker but stopped when he saw the fiery gaze in his eyes and the razor-sharp determination in his voice, he was telling the truth. Despite the sanguine clarity behind the Acolyte's resolve, William couldn't help but feel that he was being lied to, he didn't know where the voice came from, but the thought clung to him like a dangerous poison, it was enough to spread its corruption to the rest of his thoughts.
"Stop your blasted lies, Jermai, out with your lies" William's gaze hardened as he brought the thought in the back of his mind and turned them into words. The words seem to produce the wanted results as Witch froze.
Jermai stopped for a few seconds then smiled. Even though his face was obscured behind the silver, William knew he was smiling "I have to say, my lord, you never cease to amaze me" the Psyker chuckled "But there is no lie, at least, not for you"
'Does every word of this Witch have to be cryptic and wrapped in mystery?' William questioned, he won't be getting answers from him.
Before William could argue further, Jermai spoke again "You should stop prying into things you should not, my lord. Your investigation will only result in unneeded conflict, let the sons of lion be to their own"
"What?" William hissed, Jermai's answer for his lies was lackluster and strange, yet stranger still was his advice on the Astartes "What do you mean by that?"
"The sons of Lion are the firstborn of the Astarte Legions, they were the first to serve, their loyalty is not in doubt, they are beyond reproach" Jermai claimed, his voice was carried in such a manner that William couldn't help but think of them as true "All chapters have their own secrets, my Lord, the Dark Angels are no different. They have a record of utmost loyalty, seeking their secrets might change where their loyalties lie"
The Inquisitor pondered on what the Witch had told him, he was right, sometimes, not knowing was better than knowing.
"Perhaps. I am not convinced yet, there is much to think of" William said "Though I will keep your advice in mind"
"That is all I ask" the Witch slightly bowed as William began to walk away.
-Inquisitorial vessel Fatorum ruptor -Year: 914.M34 -Location: Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector -POV: Anon
Anon silently followed Malina's instructions and fused the refined copper circuit to the ignition unit, he then fused the other end to the energy refinement unit which in turn, created the energy that was directed towards the focusing hyper crystals. The crystals themselves were a form of material not found on the old earth, they resembled garnet but were much more potent in their ability to focus power and turn them into laser blasts. Strangely enough, the ignition unit blasted out the energy instead of simply focusing it, what this meant is that the ammunition acted more like a bullet rather than a laser, hence the reason for recoil in what some might consider, a laser rifle. Lasgun being a directed energy weapon might be better, it allowed for more efficient energy use than that of a laser weapon while also having the same effect, the only differences were the recoil and a small explosion effect upon the impact of the munitions.
Due to the concentration of the energy in a single point as small as a bullet, the energy will suddenly burst outwards upon impact, causing several unwanted effects for the enemy. One, the energy explosion was capable of opening small holes in unprotected flesh. Two, the heat caused by the energy caused the fluid within the body to suddenly vaporize within the victim's body, further helping the explosive effect of the weapon. And three, the resulting wound was extremely painful and caused bleeding in several places near the wound, not to mention the possible limb loss.
All and all, the Lasgun was a terrible weapon to face, that is if you are lightly armored. Anon soon discovered the effects certain metals had on energy weapons, mainly the shock and heat-resisting substance of Ceramite, this metal was used nearly in all of the equipment of the Imperium, though the quality might wary, Astartes being one of the highest while the average guard was one of the lowest.
It was a fascinating experience to see how the existence of Ceramite turned the once fearsome weapon, a Lasgun, into a low-priority enemy asset, from the most terrifying energy weapon there is, to a glorified flashlight, its fall was as quick as its rise. But one must keep in mind that even Ceramite was simply resistant to heat, not immune. This fact was demonstrated when Malina, the tech adept assigned as his teacher, kept shooting a ceramite plate with several las weapons, although the plate disperse the heat equally across itself instead of allowing it to accumulate in a single location, it began to glow red as the weapons continued to fire and the heat began to build up all across its surface, whoever was going to wear that armor would slowly boil inside.
"And that is supposed to be an Astarte's plate?" Anon asked, the plate was quite thick, no one would be able to wear it without an exoskeleton. Maybe Anon could wear it by enhancing himself with biomancy but that would be very impractical.
"The Plate is capable of being used in Astarte armor, yes, the plate itself is fabricated for combat servitors" Malina answered, no matter how hard he tried, Anon couldn't ignore her worm-like mechanical hair, small mechadendrites that functioned as manipulation deceives, capable extending themselves well beyond what looked feasible, it makes people wonder where did store all the extensions "That will the end of our exchange today" the tech adept said, her voice was altered, to be as machine-like as possible to appease her colleagues but was relatively human.
Anon nodded, he had learned much today though he wished they taught him more. This was how the mechanicus functioned, they were wary of who to share their knowledge with and the things they shared were extremely basic compared to the things they knew, he accomplished a miracle by convincing them to teach him as much as they have.
'I have about mindful of how fast I learn' the Witch nodded to himself, his position as William's Acolyte might be compromised if the Mechanicus thought him as a heretek.
Despite his oath to the code of the Mechanicus about following their laws and accepting the machine god as his secondary god, they were still wary of him, and rightfully so. Anon had no intention of following their rules, he already had several ideas on how to improve the knowledge they have bestowed to him. He was also stealing knowledge from their minds, though the process was extremely slow, hence the reason why he hoped to extend his daily lessons, if he was to steal their memories and their knowledge, he had to stick close.
As the Witch began to depart the room, Malina's voice called out for him "Acolyte" when Anon looked back at the Adept, she was holding a data pad in her hand "The most honorable Magos Lexiom asks for your presence, after you finished the Inquisitor's tasks"
The Witch stared blankly at the Adept for a few seconds, thinking what would the Magos want, he already had the blood and tissue samples he needed. His attention then went towards the Adept again "Very well" the woman nodded as she left, her gesture was a bit creepy. In most cases, an Imperial citizen will be creeped out when seeing a tech priest for the first time, it was understandable to feel like that in front of a mechanical monstrosity that is more metal than flesh. For Anon, however, it was the opposite, he was so used to seeing the cyborg abominations that seeing their less augmented Adepts, made him feel ill, and Malina was the prime example.
Malina's appearance would've been intimidating had she been more augmented. She would've been considered attractive had she been a normal human, yet she was none of both, she was in the exact middle ground where she made Anon feel uncomfortable. With Medusa-like hair, four spider-like mechadendrites on her back, and crimson red eyes with only the right eye being bionic, she was the most hideous thing imaginable, at least for Anon.
"That is all, Acolyte Jermai" with that, their conversation came to an end.
Leaving the Mechanicus section of the ship, Anon recited his schedule in his thoughts, he has yet to complete his daily physical training routine, his main weapon may be his mind, but as the old wise man from old Terra once said 'A healthy mind in a healthy body' his mind is his sword but it did him no harm to keep his dagger sharp.
"Ishmael should be there too, he always is" the Witch chuckled as he began to make his way towards the training ground.
-Planet: ? -Year: ? -Location: ? -POV: ?
Within the empty halls of the cold palace, walked a faceless monarch, so elegant and foul in its form that it drew all who gazed upon it into madness. He was the forgotten king, the orphaned ruler, the lost soul of the abyss, he was nothing. No matter how well he groomed, no matter how elegantly he dressed, no matter what he did, he could not escape his fate, his, was the eternity in solace, forced to rule an empty palace when he could do so much more.
But that was not the Monarch's intention, he didn't desire to rule, he did not desire to take back his throne from his fathers, no, he wanted to burn it all!
"The Lesser one has failed against the creatures of the soul, as he should" the Monarch muttered, his voice sending shivers down to the denizens of the palace, sending them to the depth of insanity by the simple act of talking "My Champion..." he growled, fury began to fester beneath his skin, just the idea of those mortals changing the course of his champion's actions, was enough to make him scream but not this time, he had to keep himself composed, for himself and his Champion.
The Monarch calmed himself, even if it was against his nature, he had to, sometimes you must do a little good for the greater evil. Although the bright ones have caught wind of his mortal vessel, they won't act on it for the time being, the last message given to them by the lesser ones should deter them for now.
The figure continued to walk through the halls, his pitch-black frame causing the daemons to shrink away just by being close to him "The time will come when you will realize where your true allegiance lies, Champion" the figure smiled, one day he will be able to enact his will on the realms of mortals, and when that day comes, his fathers will pay for condemning him for all of eternity. But until then, he will wait.
-Inquisitorial vessel Fatorum ruptor -Year: 914.M34 -Location: Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector -POV: Anon
The sounds of weapon fire echoed in the halls as the crewmen continued their training. Anon and Ishmael were doing the same.
Standing on the platform right next to the Psyker, the old Arbite put his bolt pistol to use, immediately shooting down the targets as they appeared. The Witch on the other hand was struggling to keep up, not that his aim was bad, it was simply the fact that people around him were too good. All around Anon were Inquisitorial Stormtroopers, the Tempestus Scions, who were trained from birth to shoot, there was not a single shot from their weapons that missed its targets, these were killing machines. Ishmael wasn't a bad aim either, he was also trained from birth and performed even better than his subordinates.
Anon brought down his weapon as it clicked and run out of ammo, that was the last of 100 rounds he was given for the contest, a hundred rounds for hundred targets...
"83 out of 100, not that bad" Anon sighed as he heard the Arbite approach, he had downed all of his targets along with the other six Scions who participated in the contest "That would be the bare minimum for the Schola, if you were any of my men I would've thrown you into the void, but for you, I feel proud" Ishmael chuckled.
"Very amusing indeed" the Witch hissed, his hand went into his pocket and took out twenty gold coins, worth around fifty thousand Imperial crowns.
"That is your lesson for the day, don't join a shooting match with people who were born to do it" the old Arbite quickly took the coins and put them in his pocket, he will probably share them with the others. Despite his love for winning money from the bets, Ishmael would never steal anything, the concept of Imperial law was nailed into his brain, he won't go against his code.
"What will become of you now? from what I have seen thus far none of you have missed a shot" the Witch asked, they will most likely share it amongst themselves instead of wasting more bullets.
"There is room for only one winner, Witch" the Arbite answered, they were going to continue until someone won? these bastards never missed a shot, how could there be a winner?
"They seem to be incapable of missing a shot, what makes you think there can be a winner?" the Witch argued, he could most likely dodge their bullets if he used his power to both enhance himself and cast illusions on the soldiers, but even then, they could score a few shots on him.
"Even the most well-oiled machines make mistakes sometimes, you just have to find out when" Anon blinked at Ishmael's answer, these idiots were going to waste ammunition until one of them missed, was the prize money even worth the amount of munition lost?
"The Imperial Guard is out there dying and these idiots are wasting ammo" the Witch grumbled in a low tone, making sure the Arbite couldn't hear anything.
"What was that?"
"I said see you in the next session" the Witch began to walk away.
"What's wrong with him?" Ishmael questioned as the Psyker left him alone.
"Leave the Witch alone, the Inquisitor must've wanted to introduce him to his guest" the source of the voice was the Scion who participated in the contest, the one who stood on the platform to his left.
'Guest?' Ishmael questioned, what was he talking about?
The Arbite suddenly stopped, his body freezing at the moment 'Greyfax' his mind muttered. This was bad, if she had called Jermai this meant only one thing...
"The poor bastard" Ishmael said with a depressing tone. A feeling of anger began to build up in him, not for the Witch or the Inquisitors but for himself, he still remembered William's exact orders to not interfere or talk about what was going to happen to the Witch. It was probably for the best.
"Why the mood change all of a sudden?" the Trooper questioned.
"Nothing" Ishmael answered, he gripped the bag filled with coins in his hand and threw it towards the Trooper who caught it in the air "My mood soured, play the game without me" Ishmael then departed the training hall, leaving behind a few confused souls. He didn't know whether Jermai liked it or not, but he will try to make up for what that maniac Inquisitor was going to do to him.
'Why did I allow this to happen?' the Witch questioned.
Chained on a chair, the silver-wearing Witch gazed at the woman in front of him. She was the less-known Inquisitor, Inquisitor Katarinya Greyfax, a Witch hunter of the highest skill, a Psyker with the Unique ability to detect lies, and considering how Anon built his entire life around half-truths, and how was a Witch, Greyfax was her natural enemy.
The woman's eyes surveyed his body head to toe with the sharp gaze of a tiger watching its prey. While her eyes tried to discover the truth of his material body, his psyche tried to open a path into his mind, but even with the chains weakening him, the Witch hunter was unable to break through his defenses. She may be skilled but her talents were nothing compared to a thousand years of experience.
"Those chains were forged with a null's blood yet you have bested me, William has found a talented Acolyte indeed" the Witch hunter grinned, her smile oozing with confidence that she can break him.
Anon held back a painful groan, the chains were causing more pain than all of his injuries combined, it almost made him wish to be tortured under Avina's hand than wearing these abominable chains "I heard you have to power to tell the lie from the truth, you can simply ask about my innocence" the Witch scoffed.
Greyfax raised an eyebrow "I have read every report about you, Acolyte Jermai. You have served both of your Inquisitors well" the Witch hunter informed.
'Both?' Anon questioned, William was his first and most likely his last Inquisitor, the one before him was a lie he came up with, that he somehow survived the ship crash on the planet of Thule.
"You think I wouldn't know?" Greyfax asked as she sensed the confusion emanating from the chained Witch "Code name Jermai with no known last name, born on an unknown planet and recruited within the Inquisitor Yor Coldmen's retinue hundreds of years ago, statues unknown. You have survived the ship crash in the feudal world of Thule, and later became the patron saint of its religion with your extensive knowledge of healing" Anon blinked several times as Greyfax recited the report, in his shock, he almost forgot about the pain the chains were causing.
To think that the Inquisitor who crashed on the planet had an underling named Jermai was mind-boggling, how were the odds of that happening? if what the Inquisitor said was true, then the Saint he pretended to be was an Inquisitorial Psyker who survived the crash and used biomancy to appear as a Saint.
"At least now we know, the cause of you wearing a mask" the Witch hunter's voice took Jermai out of his thoughts "You're quite an old one" she began walking towards Anon until she was face to face with the Witch, her hand gently brushed against the Silver "There is nothing down there but a pile of old bones and dead skin, it almost makes me feel bad to do this to an elderly... Almost" she chuckled.
"Congratulations, Witch hunter, you have discovered the truth that even a blind man could see" Anon jested, he probably shouldn't as it would only worsen his situation but the chains that bound him to the chair played with his mind, interfering with the rational side of his brain "So, what are you going to do, now that you have discovered the truth?"
Anon's mocking words seems to not affect Greyfax as she spoke in cold confidence "Your innocence is proven, there is little doubt, but the same cannot be said for your purity" she moved closer to the table where the torture devices were placed upon, her hand went over the different constructs until she found the one she was looking for, a pair of Emperor damned pain gloves "I don't know why Inquisitor Coldmen accept someone without a test nor do I care, all I have to do to ensure it" she gave a predatory smile.
"You are a vile one" Anon chuckled, it seems like he had a long night ahead of him or possibly days. He had to make an extra effort in hiding his perpetual nature by not healing, these chains have been crafted to hamper his abilities and prevent him from healing using the warp, if she saw him healing without psychic powers, his nights of terror will only lengthen.
"I do not play the hand, Acolyte, I simply play the card I have dealt" with a quick motion that indicated experience, the Witch hunter placed gloves on his hands, she had used them a thousand times and will do so a thousand times more.
"Agh!" the Witch clenched his teeth as the gloves closed, embracing his hands with metal nails that pierced deep within his flesh. The pain became worse as the electro-fibers began to make their work, the gloves focus their attention on the nervous system itself, simulating great pain without damaging the nervous system, one of the best ways to torture someone.
"No screams? I have to admit, you are resilient" the Witch hunter grinned as she tapped on something on her wrist.
For a single second, the world turned dark as the pain level increased, this was nothing compared to the previous phase. Combined with the null chains, the pain gloves induced a mind-shattering pain. It was at this moment when Anon realized what truly he got himself into, the pain was so severe that for the first time in his life, he felt like he was going to faint, no, he was definitely going to faint.
As his vision threatened to grow dark, a tingling sensation came from his neck, then came a freezing cold that spread to his head and upper body originating from the neck. The Witch's eyes began to open as a substance was injected through a collar placed around his neck.
"Chemicals to prevent the mind from escaping reality, there is no escape from my hands, little Acolyte" Greyfax tapped on her wrist again and the pain returned but this time even more severe than the last. All the while the Acolyte suffered, the Witch hunter watched with great interest as if his suffering was entertaining for her, and knowing the Inquisitors she was most definitely enjoying it, especially in this case, where Anon refused to scream to preserve what little dignity he had left "I must say, you have impressed me. The gloves are set in the third phase, this is torture even for beings like the Astartes and post-humans, yet you have not uttered a single cry of pain. My fellow Inquisitors would call this a mutant advantage, but you and I share the same curse, I know you're not immune to its effects, no matter how powerful you are" the Witch hunter paused as she saw the Witch desperately ward off the pain, she tapped on her wrist again and the pain stopped.
Anon gasped as the pain vanished, his heart was beating faster than ever and, his mind was desperately trying to shut down his nervous system, but the chemicals hampered his brain. The Witch looked up to the woman, for the first time in his life, he wanted to genuinely punch someone in the face.
"Perhaps this is another sign" the Witch hunter muttered as she closed the distance between herself and the Witch until they stood eye to eye. The Inquisitor's hand went under the chin of the Witch and pulled up his face, making sure he saw everything she wanted him to see "Become my Acolyte and none of this has to occur"
Anon blinked a few times, was she seriously suggesting he should change his Inquisitor, especially after what she did?
"Why the confusion?" the Witch hunter asked "You and I both share the same curse, we can draw power from the immaterium, our minds are within our flesh and not at the same time. How can someone without this ability understand us? how can someone without psychic abilities guide you to use your power to the fullest?" she questioned, pausing for a few seconds so Anon could think of an answer "They can't, Jermai, they cannot understand us. Only I can turn a Witch like you into something pure of purpose and soul"
She was right, William couldn't understand him, no one on this ship could understand him, instead, they showered him with a rain of insults, there was nothing for him on this ship other than hateful words and disgusted gazes. But then again, that is what it meant to live in such dark times. To live in the dark future of humanity meant far worse outcomes than mere insults. If they wish to insult him then let them do so, no words were powerful enough to deter him from his goals.
"You are right, Inquisitor, but I rather keep my oath than become your Acolyte" Anon answered, the null chains were beginning to mess with his mind, throwing his mind into disarray "So to answer your question in the common tongue. Shove it up your ass, you arrogant twat!" Anon chuckled, he really needed to stay away from anything like these damnable chains, their effect on his mind was not beneficial at all.
Greyfax chuckled, she went over to the table and took something again, it was a helmet with Neurol needles "There are more ways than gloves to solve a problem" she gave Anon a warm smile, sadistic in nature.
'I shouldn't have said that' was the last thing Anon thought before his nights of pain began.
-Planet: Red Rok -Year: 914.M34 -Location: Segmentum Tempestus/ Heraclus Sector -POV: Autarch Ila Shalani
"We do not have much time Farseer!" autarch Shalani shouted as her blade sliced through an ork beast, Nobz they call themselves, their names are as crude as their race.
The entire planet was infested with Orks, so much has their number grown that a Waagh! has formed at the core of the planet, leaving to wreak havoc amongst the stars. The worst part was the space hulk, heading towards a maiden world on its path of destruction, and their current task was to redirect the ork army to another infested world, this time a mon-keigh planet, let the filth deal with the filth.
Some might question the Autarch's mindset on morality to sacrifice billions to save an uninhabited world, but that world will one day be part of the Aeldari empire. A maiden world was one of a kind, while the humans lived in their billions, infesting the galaxy with their filth. For Ila, they were no different from Orks.
"The ritual is almost at its end, do not let them pass, Autarch!" this was bad, the whole mission has gone terribly ever since it started. The mission was supposed to be performed in silence, yet somehow, the space hulk left the system earlier than anticipated, forcing the Eldar to resort to such crude tactics, a few had already fallen.
So came the Orks, charging to their position in their hundreds, trying to pass through their defense with the sheer weight of their horde, instead of finding easy victory, they met the end of Shalani's blade. The damnable brutes were probably enjoying themselves in the screams of the fight.
No one remembered how much time exactly have passed, but soon the time came and the Farseer called for a retreat. They did what was asked and slowly retreated towards the webway gate hidden from the orks roaming the planet. The Autarch covered their retreat as the orks continued to pour in, growling in excitement to find something to fight, they could bash their clubs against each other once the Eldar were gone.
Once her warriors were teleported back to the craftworld, Ila rushed towards the gate, making sure no Ork could follow her to the ancient gate, although invisible to the naked eye, it was still possible for Orks to accidentally destroy it. The Autarch jumped into the gate before it suddenly closed, she was safe now. Ila took a moment to breathe.
From 50 warriors who left for the mission, only 32 remained which left a bitter taste in the Autarch's tongue, if the mission had gone without greenskins noticing, all of them would've survived, but the past is past and no amount of regret can change that. At least the maiden world was safe from peril and the mon-keigh could at least be trusted to deal with the space hulk. They will suffer but why should the suffering of such lowly creatures be of concern for her kind?
"Hoec has favored your mission it seems" a female voice came from behind, a voice Ila came to hear a lot in the last few years.
The Autarch turned her gaze towards Kaedra "Whatever blessing Hoec has assured us seems to be lost in Khaine's fury, the mission ended in bloodshed where it should've ended in silence" Ila corrected the Farseer, her voice carried regret, one Kaedra was all too familiar with.
"Death is an unavoidable occasion, Autarch, the warriors knew the danger of the path they followed, they followed it regardless" the Farseer gently put her hand on Ila's shoulder and slowly brushed downwards towards her elbow, an ancient Aeldari gesture to welcome those who have come back from an adventure, it was only common for closest of friends or family members "Many would have fallen, had they been in your place. You made the right choice Ila, your mastery of the art of war has saved many" Ila smiled after hearing Kaedra's attempt at comforting her.
"I know, there is no need to comfort me, my mind is clear of doubt, Farseer" not wanting to give Kaedra a blank war face to talk with for the rest of the conversation, Ila removed her helmet, freeing her crimson red hair that helped to illuminate her beauty. The Autarch's expression then soured as something else began to trouble her mind "This is a waste of time and life, Kaedra"
Kaedra nodded, understanding full well what the Autarch meant "There is yet time, we are yet to decipher its true meaning" the Farseer informed.
"There is nothing to study, Kaedra, several Craftworlds are at the brink of destruction yet we busy ourselves with an uninhabited world. Is tomorrow worth today?" Ila argued, the agitation she has been hiding ever since Anath'lan's vision came to light, now it was revealing itself to her friend "Anath'las has shown us a way to prevent the dark future, yet we dabbling in petty bloodshed, a maiden world is inconsequential compared to lives of those fated to die"
The vision that Anath showed to the council was very disturbing, it showed then the destruction of not only one but several Craftworlds, one of them being biel-tan itself. He has given them a chance to prevent this yet, the council deemed a single world more precious than billions of lives.
"Your fears are understandable, Ila, I have felt the same, but you are to act without purpose only to achieve the very thing you dread to prevent?" Kaedra said, her reasoning was sound, Ila knew that yet, it felt wrong to do nothing against the apocalypse to come "The Silver wearing phantom is not of our kind, the children of laughing god, the Necrontyr, the great enemy nor the mon-keigh, there is no answer yet. Even our kin from Ulthwe couldn't tell us anything"
"Could not or would not?" Ila scoffed.
Kaedra frowned "What are you implying Ila? we are not mon-keigh are we? why would our kin hide something so detrimental from us?"
"I'm not implying anything Kaerda, they may be our kin but those seers from Ulthwe have a different vision for our race. While we are trying to reignite the flames of our empire, they are content with their fate. They don't want us to know something that might change their "Wise" visions of our race, they are arrogant and in their arrogance, they see themselves above their own kin" it was not the first time an Eldar tricks another of his kin to achieve his goal, and so long as those conniving Seers of Ulthwe persisted in their ways, it won't be the last.
Kaedra's head turned forward, looking at the path they were treading while she spoke "While it is true that farseers manipulate even other seers if it means it will achieve their goal, it is not always true. Only in certain circumstances in which the profit gained is not surpassed by the necessary sacrifices, does this occur. In this issue, sacrifices are far outweighing any gain Ulthwe might achieve" Kaedra explained, her tone was similar to that of a mother explaining a mistake of a child.
"I know, I know, it's just that... I still have my doubts, the responsibility of two craftworld or maybe even more depends on us! I'm afraid that in the time we use to search for the cause, we might be reducing our chances of eliminating it"
Kaedra nodded, satisfied with her friend's doubts "We still have time Ila, be patient, we will not allow such fate to happen, you have my word" Kaedra promised, her words were filled with conviction, and her eyes had a burning determination. Ila couldn't help but giggle at the scene.
"Why are you laughing? an oath is not a jest" Kaedra asked, a frown visible on her face.
"You have come a far way from the woman who cried herself to sleep in Anath'lan's arms, an adorable Daughter to a wise Seer" Ila revealed.
"YOU SAW THAT!?" the normally calmed Seer suddenly shouted, seeing what she has done, she quickly put her hands against her mouth, closing it.
"Pffff" Shalani let out a snort, unbecoming of a lady like her but she couldn't help it, it was the first time she had seen Kaedra's face this red.
"And to think I called you a friend!" the Seer's face was now completely red, her psychic mind was emitting her emotions outwards, allowing Ila to feel a fraction of what she felt.
"You're quite adorable, O great Seer" the Autarch jested, it only helped to frustrate the Seer even further.
"I will throw you into the Sea of souls you scandal who dares to call herself friend" Kaedra gave a 'Hmph' before storming off forward, the Autarch was hot on her tail, this was beyond amusing, the day was yet young and there were a thousand ways to tease her friend. She couldn't help it, seeing someone as old and as serious as Kaedra in this state was beyond entertainment.
-Inquisitorial vessel Fatorum ruptor -Year: 914.M34 -Location: Segmentum Obscurus, Gothic Sector -POV: Anon
Two days and three nights, that was how long the torture continued, mind-shattering, ceaseless, sadistic torture, Anon still could feel the small holes in his brain, even though they were fully healed. Now that the null chains were removed, Anon realized how close he was to madness, those damnable chains not only hampered his abilities but also messed with his brain. Had Greyfax continued in her "Purification", she would've had to deal with a crazy Alpha plus psyker running amok in the Inquisitor's ship.
So there he was, in the infirmary bed, "Leeching off" the generous hospitality of sister Fatima. He had escaped the torture with a sliver of his sanity, and now, that sliver was completely at sister Fatima's mercy. The fate of the entire ship depended on whether she toned down her overzealous acts. The key words being "Tone down", not stop, not cease, tone down!
Several serums were still connected to his right arm, taking deep root within the burnt flesh of his arm. The serums themselves, in turn, were connected to another device. His back and arms were filled with stitching marks, the bastard, Greyfax, even subjected his brunt arms to torture with no mercy, the asshole.
Yet the worst part of all this was not the cuts, the bruises, the stitches, no, it was Anon's head which was stripped of his prized luscious hair, and for what reason? to inject the needles into his brain without hindrance! the Witch could forgive her for all she has done but not this, he will one day get revenge on that bitch by balding her head for all to see, and then she will understand his pain. Sure he didn't look bad with a bald head, he looked like a tough mercenary, but that wasn't the point, his hair was the product of perfect growth using biomancy, now he had to spend weeks focusing on growing it back.
Still, despite the horrific things he was subjected to, Anon couldn't help but feel proud about it, it might sound stupid and it was indeed, but still, he was satisfied with his ability to endure pain, he may not like it but resistance to pain will be a very useful skill in a galaxy full of it, especially against the Drukhari.
The Witch shuddered at the thought, he was not afraid of dying by their hand, he was afraid he might survive. They were parasites of this galaxy and cruel beyond measure, and one day he will come up with a plan to destroy their dark city, but for now, he rather not face them and if he did, he will ensure he will die in the process if he couldn't win.
Anon sighed, there were many threats he had to eliminate, if he wanted humanity to survive and thrive, but that was a problem for the future, once he achieved his new status as an Inquisitor, he will have the freedom to fulfill them, most of them.
Normally, people would freak out if they realized they were in this universe, trying desperately to escape it, but not Anon, he was not afraid of pain nor death, so, much of the intimidating factors of this galaxy were lost to him. After all, the pain was simply that, a passing nuisance.
Anon may not be afraid of many things in this galaxy but they were still things that even he was afraid of, mainly the fates concerning eternity, like being trapped in the realm of a chaos god and forced to endure maddening torture until the end of time. Such fates were anything but 'passing', but that rarely happened, so he only had to avoid them. His lack of fear for death and misery was not the only thing that drove his actions however, something else was in play behind the scenes, something ancient, something that had deep roots within his memories, a sapling planted so long ago, that its tree was now ancient and strong, bearing fruits that fed his soul and gave him purpose, the words of his long-forgotten guardian, a great man of his own time.
"As duty demands, huh?" Anon recited the words, he didn't know who was his father, he couldn't remember his face, but he knew, that these were the words he taught him, it has been the main principle of his life ever since, driving him into acts of selflessness ever more, from the day they were engraved in his brain. It was the reason why he tried to save his kin from the horrors of this galaxy, because he saw in it, his duty. If he didn't then who would? he was gifted with two most powerful abilities, perpetualhood and psychic abilities, two gifts he could use to save his race. He was given time to not only foster said gifts but also improve them, I mean, what were the chances of an Inquisitorial ship crashing on a forgotten feudal world in a cursed sector of space?
Anon had so much to give to his kindreds, so much to teach, so many people to guide, he had to save them. It didn't matter if they didn't appreciate his work, it didn't matter how much the humans of the Imperium belittled him. It wasn't about fame, glory, or desire for attention and adoration, it was about his duty. None of those things mattered, they were a passing wind, one day you are the most shining star of the world, and tomorrow, only your ashes will remain.
'Yes... fame matters not, it doesn't matter if they hate me. So long as they survive, so long as they thrive, I am content to be the vilest of them all. It doesn't matter what they want, they will be the dominant force in the galaxy, whether they want it or not' the thoughts began to pass through his mind, he was right, it didn't matter what they wanted, they will comply to his vision. Hate and curse all they want, they will alight with HIS vision.
"I see you can barely move, Jermai" an old voice came from the door
Anon turned his head to look at the figure, it was Ishmael.
The old Arbite was one of the few willing to even talk to him, except the Inquisitor and Avina, the first one who only came for his missions, and the latter mostly insulted him for being a mutant. Ishmael on the other hand, was getting warmer to the psyker after their first mission, when he saved him from definite peril. But that was not all, Anon had read his thoughts, the Arbite pitied him. After seeing how no one was willing to even talk to him, and how they belittled him despite his services, he has grown to hate himself for being like them before.
"I can tell you how I was "Purified" but the memories are not good for the soul" Anon answered, sensing a question before it was asked.
"Throne, of course no one would want to talk about it. When you came out of that room, I saw only a corpse, the needles were still sticking out of your head. I don't know how you're alive, but I guess that's sister Fatima for you" Ishmael gave a dry chuckle, Anon frowned beneath the mask as he heard her name.
"Anger, pain, fear, happiness, all of these things can be sensed by a Psyker. When I saw our "Beloved" sister, I felt so much disgust from her, that I almost began to hate myself"
"She is treating you fine, despite how she feels. So stop nagging and start getting better, I'll run out of crowns if you don't come back to the shooting range soon" Ishmael chuckled as he pulled a bottle out of his coat and placed it on the table next to Anon's bed, it was a bottle of amasac "Thought you might enjoy it"
"The harm sister Fatima is causing to my psyche is far greater than the physical harm she is treating" Anon said, he glanced toward the bottle "Do you really think, giving alcohol to Psyker is a good idea?"
Ishmael scratched the back of his head "I don't know... is it?" he asked.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you"
"It's not" the Witch sighed "You must've caught a few Witches during and before your time with the Inquisitor. Do you not, at the very least, know what's good and bad for your target?" Anon questioned, his tone was that of a father berating his child.
Ishmael took the bottle back and placed it back within his coat "Most were shot before they could talk, the few that lived turned insane" the Arbite answered.
"I see" Anon hummed "Sorry if I sounded unpleasant, the last few days have put a strain on my mind and my humor is unbalanced" the Witch apologized, it was the least he does after talking down to the poor soul as if he was a child, it was a truth that he always mistakenly forgot, that most people in this galaxy, did in fact, have a reason for acting the way they did and were not stupid.
"Don't let it get over you're head, just focus on getting better" Ishmael dismissed his apology, he paused for a moment before speaking again "I wish we could talk more but sister Fatima has given little time, I think it's better I go before she gets angry" Anon let out a chuckled, good to know that he wasn't the only one to be treated like this "Before I leave, do you need anything?" the Arbite asked.
"Tell the Inquisitor to get me out of here as soon as possible, please" Anon answered immediately, he wanted to use his perpetual nature to heal himself faster, but the constant observation from Fatima and her underlings was preventing him from doing so, forcing him to resort to the natural healing process of his body. The last thing he wanted was to be known as a self-regenerating mutant on top of being a Witch.
The Arbite nodded as he exited the room, but before he left the medbay, he stopped and turned back "I almost forgot, Magos and those mechanicus folk want to talk to you, I don't know the reason" Ishmael informed.
Anon took the information in stride and waved the old Arbite out, he already knew what the Magos wanted with him, most likely something to do with his genes.
"Why are you awake?" the Witch froze as he heard the familiar voice, the voice he associated with the word 'Annoyance' "I have waste tripe the dose on you, you need to sleep yet the drugs have no effect on you, what have you done?" Fatima came rushing in, causing a major headache just by being near him. Her first action upon seeing him awake and well was berating him, as if she was disappointed to see her patient alive, and soon enough, the insults began.
'How much more do I have to endure this?' Anon questioned, soon, he too wished he was dead.
-Inquisitorial vessel Fatorum ruptor -Year: 915.M34 -Location: Segmentum Obscurus, Athena Sector -POV: Anon
A few months have already passed ever since Greyfax gave them a visit, now was officially declared pure, and since he was suspected as being the source of William's corruption, he too was let loose of the charges, though it'll take some time before the news could reach the Inquisitorial HQs. To Anon's great joy, 'Doctrina Psykona' his psychic training method was being studied by several Inquisitors, Overseers of AstraTelepathica, and even GreyKnights, though Anon wasn't supposed to know the latter, it was a perk that came with the ability to read William's mind. Although it will take time before the Imperium could accept this new training method, it was still progress nonetheless. The Witch slightly prided himself for the improvement, despite how little it was in the grand scheme of things.
Although Doctrina Psykona was the first step on the list of his goals, it was also the easiest. Due to the Psychic nature of the teachings, and the name Jermai being protected under the authority of the Inquisition, this new invention was allowed, it was one of the few fields that allowed for improvement, though what fields of research were allowed and what wasn't was a bit confusing. Psychic teachings, methods of training were allowed but not pursued due to the danger that came with researching into warp training, it was technically not an invention. The psychic tools on the other hand were a different story, they were considered tech heresy of the highest order, you can only prey for a quick death if you're found researching into the subject.
Bad news for those machine freaks, this was only the beginning of Anon's plan, the first step in his journey to become the greatest heretek the Imperium has ever seen, But that'll have to wait, right now he had to act innocent for the Admech members in front of him.
"Acolyte Jermai, the most recent reports indicated that the subject was heavily injured. Is Acolyte in full capacity?" Malina asked as she greeted the Witch. She had taken a few upgrades ever since Anon was out of duty, making her appear more like a monstrosity and less revolting. Malina before was just human enough to make her appear normal, and just machine enough to pass as a mechanicus member, it was quite... uncanny.
"I am, mostly, no little thank to our honorable Magos and your labors, Malina" Anon replied, he heard how Magos managed to fabricate necessary medicine using his genes to speed up the process of his recovery, without him, he would be still in the infirmary bed.
Anon's head jerked towards the Magos at the very end of the workshop, glancing at his massive frame before turning back to the tech Adept in front of him "I remember your call a few months ago, I apologize for not attending due to my recovery process" the Witch said politely but involuntarily grimaced as the words came out his mouth, he had spent months under Fatima's care, forced to recover naturally.
"The plights of being a fleshling" the Tech Adept replied, unconsciously flexing her mechanical form "It can't be helped, I suppose"
"It can't be helped?" the Witch questioned "Your kind lives for thousands of years, a few months should be a blink" the Immortal Witch spoke from experience, although the short he spent working for William was the most eventful time of his life, it was still short compared to the eternity he fated to live.
Malina frowned, her expression was like someone trying to emulate human emotion, but haven't seen a human in her life. This is why less augmented Adepts were uncanny, at least the higher ranking members had the decency to alter their faces so as to not show emotion "I would be lying if I said I missed you" was that sarcasm? or just the way she talks? Does she even know how to make a joke?
"That was... a weak jest" Anon replied, he could hear twitching sounds coming from Malina. The tech Adept's face changed, she looked confused and what someone could call 'Embarrassed', but the latter was surely a mistake on his part, there was no machine cultist that could feel embarrassment "Em... Mis. Arkhan?" the Witch called out her name, she didn't respond.
'Did I break her?' he questioned, he was about to say something when Malina began moving again.
"Most honorable Magos requests your presence" Malina said in an unusual tone, her voice always had this robotic flavor to it, emotionless, but this one was more emotional, or at least that's how Anon perceived.
The tech Adept walked away in haste as the Witch watched in confusion, shooking his head, Anon walked towards the giant mass of metal in the corner of the workshop, that thing was at least 3 meters(9 feet) tall, not the tallest he has seen but up there in the ranking. Magos Lexiom, William's personal tech priest, was currently working on a power sword, even from here, Anon could see the beauty of the master-crafted weapon.
Toll Lexiom was a mechanical abomination, nearly 3-4 meters in height with tens of mechadendrites protruding from different parts of his body. A small fusion generator was connected to his chest, protected by a thick plate of ceramite and adamantium. The power generator removed his mortal requirements like sleep and consumption, the most similar thing he did that might emulate eating was fueling his reactor, which happened once in hundreds of years, this man was a walking nuclear bomb.
Sensing something from behind, one of his many mechanical tentacles turned back from its work and faced the figure-wearing figure, the tip of the mechadendrites opened to reveal a bionic eye.
"Ahh, Jermai!" Toll's voice was screeching buzz, doing little justice to his appearance. The head of the Magos turned "Last seen, 79 Terran standard days ago" another sound came from the Magos but this wasn't his, a different voice entirely "U401, Shut up! I didn't permit you to speak! don't you see that we have a guest?" Toll ordered, excited to see him "Come to see the result of our research, the fruits of our labor, granted by the Deus Mechanicus!" the half-crazed rambling continued.
Anon sighed, he almost forgot about the other brain, or rather brains located in Toll's body. At first, he thought the other voices to be AIs and Magos to be a heretek, running away from the law, after all, it wasn't uncommon to see Inquisitors with weird underlings. That wasn't the case. The voices coming from the mechanical monstrosity belonged to other brains, his brains of which he had three somewhere inside his frame. The brains were the exact copy of his and were cloned slightly differently than the original, creating something akin to AI to do the less exciting processing duties while also being conscious, the brains couldn't resist the Toll's will, they were drugged to simulate dopamine while working on borning tasks, creating a sense of false enjoyment while working on paperwork, a truly horrid destiny.
"I came here once I had the chance, Magos, I hope the previous samples were more than enough?" Anon asked.
"NO! absolutely not! the research, fruitful. So many possibilities. Require more samples" the mechadendrites tried to swarm around the Witch but were stopped in mid-air, unable to move. The citizens of the Imperium hated the Psykers, they hunt down the rogue ones, and feed half of them to a dead god on a golden throne, but hate alone cannot produce such amounts of prosecution. To put it in simple terms, they feared the Psykers, they feared their power and unstable nature, and rightfully so, anyone looking at this scene could see who was truly in power here.
"You've called me a guest yet treat me like a tube-born lowlife to be butchered and experimented on, is this how mechanicus treats its guests? if so then allow me to make this fact very clear, I don't make a good lab rat" Anon said in a colder tone than before, by mere thought alone he could alter reality, stopping physical attacks was a breeze. Had the Magos used all the firepower that he hid beneath his metallic skin, it would be a different story "You cannot have anything"
"But, But Toll need it! NO, the Mechanicus needs this! you cannot deny Toll knowledge!" Toll's voice grew frantic "Just shoot it and be done with it" a different voice spoke, it was the other brain, the second one of the three "Shut up, U402, bad idea. The option will ruin the genetic sample. Must find another way!" Toll said, berating the second brain.
"I can hear you, you know" the Witch chimed in.
"SEE? he can hear you, you fool! AGHHH! Toll must find another way. U403!" the Magos called out "That bastard U403? kill him" said U402 "Termination is not an option. Most useful one of the three. 403, initiate proposal protocol!" the Magos ordered, soon clicking sounds could be heard within the workshop, not from machines around them but from Toll himself, from what was inside him. All the while Anon facepalmed at the display, the process of talking with Lexiom was beyond troublesome, you weren't talking with one man but four "Processing: Unit Toll Lexiom have angered the subject beyond repair. Proposal: Unit Toll Lexiom should use the fleshling phrase 'Please'. End proposal" more clicks, more sound of metal grinding against one another, the metal mandibles of his face twitched. The Magos looked down at the Witch "Please?"
Anon's hand met with his face and cringed, as his hand brushed the Silver, only one solution came to his mind "Acceptable" Anon said, one of Toll's mechadendrites immediately went for a glass fluid container used for storing blood, he stopped as Anon spoke again "Under a few conditions" Toll frowned, his equivalent of frowning.
"We seek knowledge, don't let this fool stop you" U402 said "Acolyte mission reports analyzed. Probability of victory 23%" U401 informed "Analyzing: the processor brain U401 deemed our victory chance to be low. Proposal: refrain from engagement" U403 suggested.
"Silence! all of you!" Toll ordered "What is your offer, Acolyte Jermai?"
The Witch hummed as he released his psychic grip from the Magos "One, you will inform me of the result of your research, it is my genes after all"
"I preferred shooting him but it is acceptable" U402, the aggressive brain answered "Offer, processed. Offer, acceptable" "Proposal: Unit Magos Toll Lexiom should accept condition one" good, it seems like all of the brains have agreed.
"What else? with haste! research awaits!" Anon sighed, Toll was a bothersome man to deal with, especially with his obsessive nature.
Anon cleared his throat with a cough "Two, you will grant me access to higher levels of mechanicus education" the Magos flinched as soon as the words escape the Witch's mouth.
The path the Witch was treading was a dangerous one. Being taught wasn't truly necessary, Anon could steal it from them without them even noticing. He had already been into the minds of everyone within this workshop, their minds were now his to play with. The main problem, however, was the necessity of being close, if he wished to process their memories and extract what he wanted, he had to spend more time around them, and what better way than being taught?
Before Greyfax came to ruin his day, Anon was being taught under Malina's stewardship with the blessing from Magos Lexiom himself. This was in exchange for genetic material from Anon, whose genes Magos deemed to be the purest in mechanicus all of mechanicus history. Apparently Anon was pure of warp taint that plagues humanity ever since they discovered warp travel, somehow making him pure despite a Psyker, perhaps his Perpetual nature protected him from more things than a simple flesh wound? but I digress.
Despite the exchange, Anon was still given only the highest none mechanicus education, nothing compared to even the lowest of Admech initiates. Not that the level of his education mattered, it was simply the matter of time it took for his tutorship, it was over before Anon could complete his objective, he required more time around the mechanicus members, and higher education will provide him with this opportunity.
"Unacceptable! Punish the Heretek!" "Records processed, no official records of sharing higher levels of knowledge with outsiders have been found, Inquisitorial Acolyte contains the highest level of education available for those not blessed by Cult mechanicum" "Proposal: unit Magos Lexiom should reject the condition"
It was almost amusing to see how fast their opinions have changed, from total acceptance, to complete denial. Even Lexiom's mandibles were twitching frantically "Unacceptable! heresy! sin unbound!"
The Witch hummed, it appears that his genetic material won't be enough to support his condition, perhaps he should find another way to get close to them?
As he continued to question what to do, something clicked in his head, making him momentarily freeze in place 'The mechanicus values knowledge, any form of knowledge' the Witch smiled. There was one kind of knowledge that was forgotten a long time ago, buried beneath the sands of time, to lost to the denizens of this age, but Anon wasn't from this Era "Knowledge in exchange for knowledge" the Witch muttered, Toll and his brains stopped their grumbling.
The Witch studied the four, good they are interested in his proposal "Knowledge? of what kind?"
"I have, in my time under the service of my late Inquisitor, have stumbled upon an ancient data library, not an STC" Anon was quick to correct himself, just the rumor of its existence was enough for mechanicus to order a crusade.
"What did it contain? Ancient knowledge! Toll must know!" "He holds knowledge, take it from him!" "Processing. No records of such an archive have been found, the data library
"Although the archives were destroyed, I have studied most of it before. The archives were about historical texts and events, my dear Magos"
Toll's mandibles twitched again, more clicking sound "History? Toll already knows of the history of the Imperium, useless archives, useless"
"Maybe the Imperium, but do you know about the ancient Terra?" the Witch asked, suddenly, the excitement returned and Magos seemed to be envigourated by it. Before he could ask more questions, Anon gestured him to be silent before continuing "Genetic samples and historical knowledge of mankind from M3, in exchange for education equivalent to lowest mechanicus member. I need your blessing for this Toll, give it to me and I share with you what all I know"
The room fell into a deep silence, the only thing that could be heard was the sounds of machines, constantly working to maintain the ship and the equipment of the soldiers. Suddenly, more clicking sounds began to ring in Anon's ear, the Magos seem to be calculating the offer.
"Half"
"What?" the Witch asked.
"Half of what an engine seer possesses, and you must take the vow of the mechanicus, you must speak of this contract to no one, that is what Toll demands!" the Magos said, still reluctant to accept the idea.
"I can accept to vow and the oath of silence, but half is not what I wish" the Witch argued, the oath of silence he could understand, if the mechanicus learns of someone as high ranking as him, is spreading their knowledge to others, they won't be satisfied with just his death. He could also understand the vow of the mechanicus before the altar of the machine god, even though he didn't plan on following it through. What he couldn't understand was half, if you're going to become a heretek might as well follow it through, the sentence for all hereteks is death, regardless of the crime.
"We cannot! the Machine god will be wrathful, the machine spirits will refuse to function under our care" the Magos explained frantically "Proposal: unit Toll Lexiom should add a bonus to the terms" U403 chimed in "Bonus?" Magos asked, tilting his head "W-Wonderful suggestion! Toll will not become a heretek and he will learn of ancient Terra! he will get to study more!"
Toll's head turned toward the Witch, patiently watching him, content with not involving himself in his madness "I'm listening" he said, crossing his arms.
"Your equipment is terrible, shoddy, weak machine spirit, with the danger of falling apart, Toll will provide! yes, Toll will provide you with the best in the Imperium. Voltkite pistol, Carapace armor, Grav gun, Toll can provide all! even swords!" Anon frowned, did he say Voltkite and Grav gun?
"Wait, just a moment" he stopped the Magos's rant "The knowledge of making such weapons are lost, Voltkite and Gravity gun I mean, do you mean to say you know how to make them?" Anon asked, the more important question was how he missed this part, he had searched through their minds but he couldn't find anything about such weapons, perhaps he didn't survey them properly?
Toll puffed his chest in pride "Toll is no lowly priest, Jermai. We know much, Toll is Magos dominus and an Artisan! we are great, Toll holds much knowledge" well, that did answer one of his questions, how Anon missed such an important was still a mystery.
The Witch's poster relaxed, perhaps there was more benefit in talking to the half-crazed Magos than a headache. There were many items he could ask from the Magos that will make his life easier, armor, a pistol, a Digi weapon, a refractor field, or maybe even a Rosarius. All of the said items were useful, but there was something more important, something more essential that every Psyker needed to have, something that Anon have been trying to get his hand on.
"A force weapon, can you forge me one?" a force weapon, similar to power swords but superior in the hands of a power Psyker. A force weapon may take the shape of a staff, a sword, a spear, or anything else, but regardless of the shape, it'll become an extension of a Psyker's body, something that can improve your concentration, power, wards, in simple terms, everything. If he wished to be something in this unforgiving galaxy, having a force weapon was essential.
"Processing. The process of forging a force weapon, depending on the shape, will require, proximally eight months to two years" U401 informed "As he said, Jermai, Toll can forge what you wish, Toll will forge a masterpiece if it means he'll learn more than he knows" the Witch nodded, accepting the terms.
To be frank, he couldn't wait to get his hand on his own force weapon, made by a skilled artisan no less! he was not ashamed to admit, he was as excited as a child waiting for his present, nothing could ruin his current mood, nothing except...
"Wonderfull! now let us complete the terms of our agreement" the Magos said cheerfully, one of his mechadendrites brought a fluid containment the size of Anon's arm, and another brought a glass knife used to cut pieces of the flesh.
'Oh no' the Witch muttered, looks like his perpetual nature going to work overtime.
The exchange with Toll took a few weeks to fully complete, mostly due to Anon's lack of implants that allowed for data transfer. The Magos, being the cyborg maniac he is, offered to either give him the implant or connect another device that will give him access to all the data in his brain, the first was rejected due to it interfering with his psychic abilities, the second was also rejected. As an outsider, Anon's mind contained secrets none of the races in the galaxy possessed, secrets so dangerous, it was enough to make him the target of the entire galaxy, had Lexiom spread the knowledge that the machine god they were worshiping was, in fact, an alien god, the entirety of the Imperium will fall apart in a civil war, revealing the great lie.
When both proposals failed, the Witch suggested one of his own, using his natural-born talent in Telepathy, he could give him what he wants, by giving him his own memories. That too was rejected, mainly due to prejudice against psychic powers spreading to even mechanicus, as if those ministorum priests with ridiculous hats weren't enough, the barely human cyborgs have also joined their ranks. Anon couldn't deny their justified hatred of psykers, considering how the rest of his kind tend to explode or turn into a daemon portal all the time but still, he still felt bitter about it.
Having exhausted their options, the duo resorted to the old fashion way of just talking, it was not a pleasant experience! mostly thanks to Magos himself. He refused to end the conversation until he sucked dry every piece of knowledge from the poor Witch, from different forms of governments to empires of the ancient earth, from the most famed characters to different types of animals, his questions knew no end. But even the greatest of sailors return home one day, some simply for comfort, but for people like Magos, the world they live in fails to satisfy their inquisitive nature.
"Your genes, your DNA, it is as Toll said, is purer than anything Toll have seen or read through the records, and Toll was trained on holy mars itself no less!" the Magos explained, his voice oozing with pride for his heritage. Even the Witch was impressed with the Magos so far, he was capable and came from one of the twin jewels of humanity, after holy Terra, the first planet he wished to visit was Mars, despite him being an outsider, he still felt a connection to both of these worlds as all humans do "Such thing is improbable at best, Toll thinks but here you are"
"I know that" said the Witch patiently, the duo were making their way towards the engine of the ship "What I want to know is the benefit my flesh and blood can bring to the Imperium. I want to know what YOU can do with it, or at least, what you think you can do" the clicking sounds came again.
"Processing" U401 chimed in "Project Interfixus Templar, Project Novus
Eftirmynd, Project Melius Vindicare, Project Melius Callidus, Project Melius Culexus, Project Melius Eversor. Twelve additional Projects detected, permission to upload to the main mind?" the processer brain asked "NO! too much data at once! keep it in the storage until necessary" the Magos ordered.
'Inferfixus Templar, Novus Eftirmynd' Anon muttered, that was when the realization hit "You're walking on a dangerous path, Magos" the Witch warned.
"Not invention, Toll does not invent, Toll follows the Omnissiah's steps fervently" Lexiom argued "Readjusting is not inventing, Psyker filth" U402 answered "YES YES, Toll was simply readjusting not inventing, Y-you psyke... Acolyte" the Magos quickly corrected himself, he wished to defend his action but fell quite as several armsmen walked past the duo, the Magos continued to speak in his own defense once they were gone "When the projects began thousands of years ago, all we had was corrupted human genome. The purest samples we had were records from the Golden age, when humanity first colonized the stars, but even then, the genetic samples were corrupted by the warp. We only had corrupted samples to work with, until..." the Magos turned his head towards the Witch and looked down "Until Toll found you.
Anon took a few moments to digest the information, the warp has corrupted his race in this galaxy so much that there was no pure-blooded human left, was he truly the only one left? what will become of humanity now? it certainly won't cause him to see them as any lesser than before.
"But I am a Psyker, I channel the warp through my mind"
"That is the question we are trying to answer you fool" U402replied.
"Is that one truly necessary?" the Witch ask, referring to the most hostile of the brains.
"It may seem useless, but it helps Toll during combat" the Magos shrugged "Ah, looks like we have reached our destination" the duo stopped, this is where their paths will separate "Toll must leave now, regrettably"
"I too must prepare for my next mission" Anon sighed, ever since he had joined the Inquisition it was one mission after the other, the number of Chaos cults knew no end. The Witch always cursed William's Ordo, why would he, a mortal man, choose to fight daemons? sure someone had to do it but couldn't it be someone with more augmentation? Ordo hereticus hunts Witches and cults in its early stage, Ordo Xenos deals with Xenos, as in this year, no Necron tombs worlds have been awakened so they deal mostly with Orks, but Ordo Malleus deals with daemons, a daemon hunter of all people should have augmentation.
"Acolyte" Anon's head turned towards the source of the voice "Toll has decided your tutor, Tech Adept Malina will supervise you, she... is the most suitable of Toll's underlings" the Witch tilted his head "She is a Levelist" the Magos spit out the word as if it was abhorrent to his own ears.
"Heretical?"
"Unfortunately not"
Anon hummed as the Magos retreated into the engine room, he might now want to research the subject, after whatever mission William had in store for them.