Chapter Nine

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Author's Note: Okay someone protested about the entire fic is just one big fight after another. Please, this is Warhammer 40k and the Indomitus Era, this is all about fighting and surviving.

…

Caliban, the Great Crusade

"Mother, look, a brand new sword for father's collection, do you think he would like it?" the Lion presents an ornate blade the size of a greatsword in front of her making Helaena smile as she pats the head of her son who she swears grows cat ears at the gesture.

"I am sure your father would love it son, along with the shield you also submitted to the armory for me. You do know I don't like to fight right?"

"Sorry mom it's just so shiny and beautiful that it immediately reminds me of you. I'm sorry you don't like it,"

"It's not that I don't like it son. It's just too big for me. Maybe a dress next time instead of a shield which is the size of you and your brothers," she chides.

"Oh of course, I will mother. Would you like some portraits and paintings though? I heard Fulgrim has quite a nice collection gathered. I can purchase some from him for you," he recommends. Helaena has to hold back a laugh at the uneasiness of the Lion when it comes to female apparel. He is apparently wise enough to decide that when it comes to clothes, he is as skilled as an Orc in a tea ceremony.

"Just tell him it is for me my son and he will give it to you for free. You know your brother would like to boast about his work to me also. It is two birds with one stone. Besides, the Imperial Palace can and would always look better with some of your brothers portraits adorning it. I love your father but that too much gold can be nauseating sometimes,"

"I prefer the color of Dark Green mother. I took it as an inspiration from the color of your eyes," The Lion says proudly.

"Of course you do, that's why I like spending time here at Caliban. You actually managed to balance your world with the nature around you instead of using it all. I am quite impressed of this my son, quite impressed.

Again Helaena has to resist the urge to squeal in cuteness as the Primarch of the Dark Angels Legion grow lion's cat ears as she pats him in the head.

…..

Sigmala System, Planet Varis

The system is a major producer of Imperial arms based on Segmentum records. In the system alone are three forge worlds and one hive world that serve as a recruitment world for the Guard based on Imperial records. They are the current planets that can be recognized as liveable among the systems seven planets. Two are blasted apart planetoids while the other is a death world full of fauna and flora that is dangerous to a regular human. The Imperial Guard maintains an outpost to it to keep the track of the feral Orks that call the jungles home. However after the disaster where the Warp spills into real space, like everyone in the Imperium, the entire system reels with the sudden darkening of the Emperor's light. Trade becomes almost non-existent, communications broke down and cooperation wavers as planetary governors consolidate their personal powers. With such weakening, troubles arose.

The sudden loss of supplies causes the Feral Orks to finally overcome the Imperial Outpost in the feral world. Well-supplied, and with access to space-faring technology, it does not take long for the greenskins to seek greener pastures to find a good fight. The forge world of Masternus is their victim, one of the three forge worlds in the system. They started with landing a rokkit on it and pouring in by the thousands, catching the unaware and reeling forge world in the backfoot. Come a year, half the planet is covered with greenskins now numbering in the millions scattered all over under Warboss Propa Iron. Imperial Naval bombardment scatter massive hoards of Orks in the surface, however a large mass under the Warboss manage to sneak in some giant tunnels which the Mechanicus use to dump their wastes. Within minutes, they are in the primary highway of the manufactorum used to build Sentinels roaring their battle cries through the hazy black smoke from the exhausts.

"Form up men! Form up!" the shouts of Commisar Gremin can be heard even as he fires at the brains of a random PDF Private for moving to slow. This galvanized the remaining the PDF units to quicken as they form a firing line facing the myriad of black inky blackness in front of them.

"Fix bayonets men! We are facing the greenskin horde. Fear not for the Emperor stands with us! Not one shall run! Not one shall retreat till we send these detestable xenos where they belong!" the commissar "encourages" waving his sabre like a banner to the two separate lines of PDF hiding behind the trenches. Each line is composed of kneeling soldiers at the front while the one at the back remains standing to give them men an overlapping line of fire.

"Steady! Steady! Hold your fire!" the Captain shouts as the lines of Skitarii and Guardsman readies themselves facing the black smog.

It is shadows that first appeared, giant hulking things with fangs and teeth jutting out of their overlarge heads atop six feet bodies. They come in the dozens, in the hundreds walking, not running as they emerge from the smog. Beady red eyes glare forbiddingly at the lines of the Imperials as they appear one by one till they are a giant mass on the hallway. It is a forbidding sight and more than one man quails in fear trying to run only to be shot down by the Commissars.

"We hold! We hold men! We-"

"WAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!" the sudden shout of the Orks cuts off whatever speech the Commissar is about to make. With a great roar, they broke formation charging forward like one large mass.

"Fire! Fire everything damn you all! For the Emperor! For the Empress!" a wall of red and slugs meet the oncoming charge head on. Orks stumble and fell, but they have better chances of shooting a water gun to a dry sponge. It takes more than one volley of lasgun fire to stop hundreds of Orks. Even with holes on their bodies, the horde charges not letting anything as puny as a staunched burnt hole in their side to get in the way of their love of fighting.

The local PDF immediately gave way over the charge. Men panic and even with the Comissar shooting left and right, none return to formation as they all try to ran. Only the Skitarii remain rooted on their spots maintaining a fire discipline as their overseers command them to.

The Orks meet the splintered lines of the Imperials with the strength of a battering ram throwing it to pieces. Men fell and die hack by Ork Choppas and shot down by boomsticks. Skitarii fight back with all the might their mechanized bodies can give only to be torn apart by sheer force of muscle and numbers by the green horde.

"BAYONETS! CHARGE!" the Commissar valiantly try to lead a counter –attack with a large group of men. It is by the book of the Imperial Guard manual. However seeing that said manual is more useful to be used as toilet paper since it is obviously belligerent and outdated. What results is a massacre as men are hacked, pummeled, punched, kicked, heads bitten off, dying in a variety of ways. Said Commissary gets a choppa in the chest for his troubles. Thousands die in the impromptu battle-charge. Already it is obvious that the Imperials are losing. Men are falling back to the gun emplacements being hurriedly set up by the Tech-Priests while their firing crews are throwing las fire to slow down the Orks that are trying to rush after the panicked survivors.

Then it happens, a beam of light slams down like a judgement of the gods between the gun emplacements and the Ork Horde and out appear golden figures with plumes of red looking majestic and standing proud, their spears aloft. The PDF at the back and the remaining survivors stares in awe at the mighty Custodes that serve as the Emperor's personal bodyguards appear.

"Today my brothers! We show our Empress what valor and skill truly means," drones out "Kitten" ordering the line of at least hundred and fifty Custodes in a singular line, Guardian spears leveled. "For the Emperor! For the Empress! We shall take this Warboss' head home!"

The Orks' reaction to this of course is to only charge at the golden bananas with the force of an earthquake. Their thundering steps shake the entirety of the highway as they recklessly charge forward. The Guardian Spears of the entire front are lowered behind golden shields. Estimating distance and range, every single one fired at the same time.

Green flesh transforms to red as the Orks are cut into ribbons, the powerful ornate bolter rounds ripping through hide, muscle and bone. Orks scream as their entire front is decimated in seconds. Not everyone die immediately of course, hundreds still come screaming in glee as they finally reach the Custodes line. Only for heads to explode as out of the sides of the shields, spears from the second line jut out piercing through skulls and brains. Each Custodes strike is a lethal one. Spears retract only to repeat like an angry porcupine, cutting down Orks left, right and center. The Custodes are methodical, those who cannot get a sure head-pierce aims at the hearts, the jewels, the sockets, either to kill quickly or incapacitate that they cannot be of a threat anymore. Thousands die in the mad rush. The PDF seeing the tide turning in their favor join the fray, lasguns and stubbers firing. At the flanks, the heavy weapon emplacements secure via turning every Ork that dare run at it to chunks of meat.

The beam of light comes again and this time a floating woman in white synth armor that covers everything while hiding nothing appears floating in mid-air with two women with wings armored in gold and white laurels. Even the dumbest Imperial who has the least of faith at all in the God Emperor would recognize the two as saints attending the one who they know in their hearts is the Empress of Mankind.

Golden light floating behind her, Helaena watches the tide of the battle. They are on their way to System Attendius where her son lies asleep. It has taken a while even for the powerful systems of her own personal ship, the Orion to pinpoint the floating giant piece of planetoid held together by literally chains and ropes. Thus to pass the time and be useful while waiting, they head here to help out the planet. Losing Varis would be felt widespread by the entire sector seeing that this is the only place where Sentinels can be reproduced en-masse. Thus their presence here. Personally, Helaena just wants to blow out some steam after almost a year being cooped up in the Imperial Palace. She may have been pragmatic thanks to her position but she is always a warrior first through and through.

Her eyes scan the mass of Green immediately taking notes immediately of the small group of larger Orks clad in a mishmash of scrap glued together to form a sort of armor in their bodies. At their hands are giant claws that looks large enough to cut a single human by half easily. Her hand raises and a spear of shimmering light appears as she descends with the Saints Josephine and Celestine to the mass. As they land, the two Saints raise their blades smiting a crater large enough for her to land.

Amid charred bodies, her feet touches the ground looking lazily at the Warboss hiding behind his Mega Nobz, with a flick of her hand, the spear of light soars forward like a bullet heading to the Warboss who panics at the vibrating projectile heading to his face. Just in time he grabs the nearest Mega Nobz and use it as a shield, the poor Orc explodes like a piñata. The damage however is done. Within seconds the Custodes are converging on the position after seeing the direction of where the Warboss is. As for Helaena, her claws extends and she moves fast, swiping at the throats of the MegaNobz lessening the numbers from eight to five in an instant. Josephine and Celestine also engages cutting through the mass of lesser Orks like a threshing blade on wheat, their pained screams echoing in the highway.

"Yu Will pay for dat humie! I am Warboss Propa Iron, Imma show yu my Iron!" he roars out raising his entire left arm which is now bionic ready to squash the Empress,"

"If I didn't know better Orc, that can almost be considered a sexual innuendo, but I digress, I'll be too much for you Orc," Helaena replies to the threat with a raised eyebrow looking nonplussed even with the giant metal arm looming above her.

Within seconds Josephine is behind the Warboss' piercing its ankles with a knife from the back making it howl as it falls into one knee before a strike from Celestine at its calf make it fall down on all fours in a bowing position in front of the Empress roaring in anger. He is cut short in his squeals of pain however when the Empress raises two fingers above her head and pushes them forward. Immediately a dozen Guardian Spears pierce the Warboss in different parts of its body. It is dead before its body even meets the ground.

There is a stunned silence from both Orcs and humans as they stare the sudden end of their troubles. Immediately the Orcs turn toward each other fighting among themselves as they make a disorganized rout. The humans on the other hand cheer as they pursue their foe wildly. For the populace of Planet Varis, it is a great victory and one worthy of their records and annals. It might even beget a holiday since today the Empress makes sure that her presence is felt in their planet.

For Helaena it is just a nice side quest in her doing her good deed of the day as she heads on to the Rock where her son needs some wakening from his happy sleep.

…..

Planet Gathalamor, Drogos System

Gathalamor is a feudal world set on its ways and ever constant since the Primarch Vulkan brought it to the fold of the Imperium Ten Thousand years ago. Ever since then the Feudal World has been stable, barely changing and barely developing, honest in all its ways under the rule of the Great Houses that call it home. While they challenge one another, they have always been loyal to the Greater Imperium passing on the near hundred thousand man tithe every year to the Guard and the daily taxes. While indeed its populace is unlearned with the modern doodads that other Imperial Citizens of progressive worlds are aware of, they make up for it for skill in battle and chivalry. The Planet fields a large number of knights and footmen under the rule of the great Houses.

The people of Gathalamor have always believed that the Imperium would remain constant as would its liege and patron god, the God Emperor of Mankind. It all changed when the Cicatrix Maledictum rips through the galaxy cutting the Imperium in two. As a Feudal World, the planet could care less about warp travel. It is self-sufficient by itself after all. However unwelcome are the hordes of demons that suddenly appear on its wake that wastes no time invading the planet.

The demons are almost human with extremely pale leathery skin. They crawl on all fours like an animal with elongated claws that could rip through bone and flesh. They have no eyes, ears and nose for that matter, yet they can sense and they can see for some reason. They come by the millions overrunning the different castle of Gathalamor, prompting a united mobilization by its Great Houses.

Knights and other heavy cavalry marshaled by the Great Houses face the demon hordes in open conflict. In skill and strength, the knights would rule supreme and against anyone else they might have won. Yet the demons are stronger, faster and more agile. The men of Gathalamor are no match despite their great valor. Many are torn to pieces and many more are carried off to the darkness to be feasted upon.

Yet despite the darkening of days, the men of Gathalamor has something that the Demons of the Warp don't have, reinforcements.

The call for help is answered despite the breaking of the Imperium in two. Regiments of Death Korps of Krieg arrive in numbers in the thousands. With them they brought the might and the power of the Imperial Guard machinery. Powerful Basilisks rain hell from above demolishing caves and mountains which the demons hide on. Leman Russ tanks lead the charge as always supported by infantry. Chimeras transformed into hellcats belch out fire like living dragons. Swords and spears are replaced with lasguns, stubbers and bayonets, enabling humans to fight off demons.

Yet their enemy learned to, greater demons, bigger than their brethren charge tanks, destroying them. Smaller demons come in the millions now race through lasfire and stubber fire to come into grips against humans within the infamous trenches of the Death Korps. Thousands die on both sides yet it is obvious that humanity would falter in this meatgrinder of a fight. The demons don't tire, don't falter and morale is an alien thing to them unlike the humans, even with the Death Korps leading.

Salvation however arrives when the sun of Gathalamor are shadowed by the magnificent battlefleets of the main Indominus Crusade. Bombs and lasers blast the masses of demons on the surface scattering the demon hordes all over the planet. It is at the main city of Valiant however of House Peris, does it disgorge its three most important passengers.

The reason? Experience for the latest Primarch or Matriarch as she is called by Rogal Dorn due to her gender.

"YEEEEESSS!" the happy squeal of Luna can be heard echoing as she drops like a rock straight towards one of the larger demons. While the bombardment does indeed clear the majority of the demon, small groups of them and still remain wandering around confused and disorganized.

"SQUELCH!" the giant pale monstrosity dies as it is bisected brain to groin by the Matriarch of the Second Legion. Rogal watches in bemusement as she cuts through the remaining four like a blade of grass. Rogal has to admit that watching their sister fight is like watching a dance. She uses a power sword that is much more slender than what they use alongside a plasma pistol.

"Luna! Luna come back and wait for me!" the exasperated voice of Gulliman can be heard as he disentangles himself from the straps of the Drop Pod before hurrying after the whooping hybrid who is now sawing the neck of a Demon as it struggles to free itself.

"Please brother, can't you see that she is enjoying herself," Rogal points out easily keeping pace with Gulliman who looks like a tomato as they run after Luna who is now bounding on another group of demons who looks like they are contemplating whether coming out of the Warp is a good thing in the first place after their recent misfortune.

"I promised mother that I would keep her safe, so please forgive me if I rather am busy in making sure that mother's wishes are being kept," he hisses at Dorn who sighs as he watches Gulliman try to keep up with Luna who is quick on jumping another group of confused Demons even as they shriek in fear at her coming.

He has forgotten how attached Gulliman is to their mother and how "obedient" he is to the letter. Anyway let Gulliman act the caretaker while he takes notes of Luna's capabilities. As it is he just admires their new sister easily pluck Demon after Demon like marionettes moving her body in angles that would have torn even his limbs. He mentally nods at her skills. Perhaps she indeed can be considered one of their number based on skills alone.

Now if only he can teach her from acting like an airhead and start taking a bit more responsibility then it would be a great boon.

Oh and to stop stealing stuff too. He still has to retrieve from her his magic pain glove.

…

The Rock, Fortress Monastery of the Dark Angels, System Gravitus

The Rock is a massive fortress, part planet, part ship. It is all that remains of Caliban, home planet of the Primarch Lion El Johnson. Onto it the mobile fortress of the Dark Angels stands. Giant guns juts out from its periphery with enough firepower and strength to even decimate an Entire Eldar Craftworld twice. It is the pride of the Dark Angels and their greatest strength. More than once The Rock has been called into battle bearing its heavy armaments and defenses to bear down against any unfortunate fleet that can be called its target. It is a rare thing but it happens. The Rock also does not stay on one place, but always traveling both to keep its strategic position away from undesirable eyes and to protect its most precious cargo, the sleeping form of Lion El Johnson deep inside its catacombs.

"Lord Azrael, the ship of the Empress, the Orion has jumped into system. They are hailing us my lord and is requesting to board The Rock,"

"Check their codes, Alexios and confirm them with the codes given from Holy Terra. It is surprising that the one crowned by the Emperor of Mankind would be so far away from the Imperial Palace," replies Azrael as he checks the auxpex of the farthest long ranged gun to see that indeed, the seven hundred meter ship, quite small mind you compared to Imperial ships zipping through the void in a steady pace heading towards the The Rock.

Azrael like everyone else has received the news from Terra that trickles through every news network about the crowning of the Empress under the direct orders from the Emperor himself alongside the reinstated Lord Commander of the Imperium, Gulliman. Many have been skeptical at first about this new Empress. No one after all heard about Helaena until now. Yet when the requisitions for supplies and weapons arrived miraculously on time, instead of the usual three months late period, the tune about the Empress changed. It seems that she has successfully managed to grapple the idiocy and inconsistency of the Administratum back on track. News come from everywhere about the changes she is making. The forces of the Inquisition are organized and finally used to be what they are, spies that would root out dissidents from the inside so that the external forces of the Imperium can focus on other issues like Xenos and Demonic invasions. New technology is being brought to bear all over to be introduced to Forge Worlds not as weapons of war but for keeping the local populaces happy and satisfied. Food is aplenty from the Agri-Worlds and the PDF forces have never been so organized. Streamlines of new communication hubs are established everywhere like signal fires to maintain the communication between worlds and systems would remain at Imperium Sanctus. Planetary Governors are put in their places to at least pull their asses into putting the greater good instead of hoarding everything in these perilous times. Those who become uppity tend to get a visit from the Inquisition.

All in all as far as the Chapter Master can see that despite the darkness cutting the Imperium in two, the new Empress is beginning to be true to the title given to her by the people, the Empress of Light. She has brought light in this darkening galaxy and hope that there would be a tomorrow instead of despair. She has cleansed the High Lords of the incompetent fools that rule it and installed people which seems to be in fact capable of the positions that the Emperor of Mankind created for the betterment of mankind.

She has also brought two Primarchs back into the fold and even now great fleets of the Indominus Crusade are hurling through the stars saving and pacifying world upon world in the name of the Emperor and the Empress. She has also brought down two traitor Primarchs at great cost to herself. By her position alone she would have admittance to the Rock. However by any of the deeds above written, Azrael would have welcomed her as an honorary Dark Angel if only because she succeeded in a little time what so many fail to do for centuries.

"My lord, confirmation codes are correct. It is the Empress my lord," reports Alexios back.

"Then allow her access to my personal hangar and attend me. It would be improper if we do not show courtesy to the anointed one of the Emperor himself," says Azrael standing up and walking with Alexios keeping up from behind. The moment they step out of the command center, the honor guard of Dark Angel Terminators also follow behind Azraael as they march towards the hangars. It does not take long for them to reach it.

The large gates open with a puff of smoke and with hisses as the giant machineries heave to open the entrance. The first thing that the Chapter Master sees which makes whatever doubt disappear that it is indeed the Empress of humanity are the presence of the Custodes that enter first. The guards of the Emperor would not be here if they don't have someone to guard important enough. Not even the High Lords of Terra are given such honor. The next are the two glowing beings which are obviously Saints. Their very presence is enough to even make Azrael bow to his knees alongside every Dark Templar who feels the power of the Emperor glowing through his representatives.

Then finally she enters.

The Empress is nothing like what Azrael expects. He has imagined that she would be wearing golden blazing armor like that of the Emperor in the murals and in the painting. What he doesn't expect to see is a woman wearing a light blue synthsuit that hugs every countour and line of her voluptous figure that it is almost vulgar to see. Her head is bare showing her braided hair freely for all to see, along with her beautiful face. Unlike the Saints she does not glow, no. What makes her stand out however are her eyes. They are of the deepest emerald green that seems aged and wise showing her true age and experience. One look at her given to him and Azrael is face first to the floor alongside with the rest of his warriors.

"Glory to the Empress of Light and to the Emperor of Mankind who has given her to us in our moment of need!" proclaims Azrael out loud surprising even himself by his sudden declaration. He is in such awe that he can't help himself.

"Glory to the Empress of Light and to the Emperor of Mankind who has given her to us in our moment of need!" repeats his men behind him.

"Thank you my dearest grandsons," his twin hearts actually beats fast at that. If Astartes have great connections to their father, and their grandfather, the Emperor of Mankind, then that feeling of connection is established the moment she called them her grandsons. Inside Azrael knows that he would die for this being. There is a closeness that he just realizes that now connects him to her. If he asks her to jump, he would keep jumping till he reached the heavens.

"But I am not yet worthy of any of your praise. Thank you for allowing me to enter your homes," she bows much to the surprise of the Dark Angels who started clamoring that she need not bow, breaking decorum.

Five minutes of pulling his brother sin order and Azrael is now back on track with the welcoming formality as he stands up to his feet. "It is our pleasure to host you my Empress-,"

"Grandmother," the sudden correction glues Azrael's tongue atop his palate. "Call me grandmother or mother as your right since I am mother of all your gene-fathers. In fact you would honor me for that," She smiles at them all.

Azrael does not know it but he can feel the first stirrings in his heart. Astartes don't cry but he can hear sniffling from some of his brothers at the back. Astartes are created to be strong, to know no fear and the bulwark against the terror. They are strong not only in heart but also in character and in spirit. They are after all the bulwark against the darkness and the terror. However they are also human, and one can only go so far before breaking. That is why they lean so much on their brothers for wisdom, comfort and guidance. Now here is one opening her arms to them all.

"Yes, we will….mother," sniffs Azrael holding back the tears, he is the Chapter Master damnit. He can feel the eyes of the Custodes boring on him probably in disgust but he disregards them, here is one that willingly treated them not as Space Marines but as grandchildren for the first time. "The Rock is yours mother,"

"No, it is not mine," the answer makes him blink as she lets off a beautiful smile. "It belongs to your father, my son, Lion'El Johnson. I am here to wake him up from his slumber. The time has come that he rejoin his brothers and assume his duties,"

Azrael however only registers the part where she is here to wake the Lion from his slumber. His two hearts are beating gloriously. If not for propriety, he might have hugged her to death.

…

The Rock, Inner Sanctum

As they descend upon the Rock, Helaena smiles at the recognition that the Space Marines are giving her. She always has a good relationship with the grandsons of hers. Even back then when she is present, they would swear their oaths to her declaring more than once that they would conquer a planet for her or how they would bring the skulls of their enemies for her favor and honor. It is quite sweet in a brutal kind of way, yet still sweet. The Space Marines after all are made to be the best of men, only lesser than their fathers.

Many might imagine that the Astartes are all about war, yet they could never be wrong. Even now as they descend to the Inner Sanctum, she can see beautiful mosaics and paintings on the windows of the Rock. It is more a cathedral than a fortress with great statues and icons of the Lion's deeds, the Emperor, heroes of their chapter, the Emperor, names and paintings of important people that are honored by the chapter, the Emperor. If John is here she might have been ribbing him non-stop about the large number of statues glorifying his name. John liks statues in his honor despite his spouting about not being god. More than once she teased him about it much to her pleasure and that of Malcador. Now they are just memories at least until she can find a way to get John off that damned chair. First things first though and that means pacifying the galaxy as his favor requests.

As for the Dark Angels, Helaena has to giggle at their antics. Her cute grandsons are torn between hurrying her up to their inner sanctum where she can revive their father while at the same time trying to impress her with their home showing off great trophies which has a story each. Back then if not for a galaxy in need, she might have loved staying here where she can learn the multitude of stories that each piece has. Alas, for the dark times.

"We are here," the sudden voice of Azrael says stepping into a metal ornate door with jeweled emeralds "Beyond this point is the Hall of Silence where my father is recovering with the Dark Ones attending to him. For Ten Thousand years, he has slept ever since Luther's wound to him. I pray mother that you would be true to your word and bring our father back to us,"

"I will grandson. Just bring me to him, everyone else stay here except Azrael who will enter with me," she orders much to the unhappiness of the Custodes and the two saints.

"My Empress we-," Celestine tries protesting only to shut up her mouth with a clack as Helaena levels her gaze to her.

"I have given my orders Celestine, please. I will be perfectly safe. The Dark Ones' would not harm me inside and let us respect the traditions of the Dark Angels. Beyond this point is a place that only the Chapter Master can enter, am I right Azrael?"

"Yes mother, every Chapter Master has at least enters this place once if only to gaze at our lost father,"

"Then tonight will be the last time you enter this place with sorrow. Come with me and waste no time," she beckons to him who nods. Taking a giant key, he places it at the lock and twists. A thousand machines move, as locks unnumbered unraveled alongside dozens of traps inside before opening to a dark chamber as wide as a worshipping hall.

"Come Azrael," she waves before entering inside with the Chapter Master padding behind her. Immediately the Dark Ones meet them bowing before their faces to the ground at the presence of Helaena.

"They know you mother?" asks a confused Azrael.

"I am older than you think Azrael, old enough to see the stars fall and the heavens rise alongside your grandfather, the Emperor. I am there when humanity reaches its glorious heights making miracles everywhere, even the least of them. I am also there during its fall when man eats man. Is it really surprising that the Dark Ones won't know me?"

"I am sorry mother, I am just surprised, " bows Azrael in apologies.

"No need to ask for forgiveness for being curious my grandson. Knowledge is power, but like everything else it must be controlled and tempered by wisdom for knowledge like everything else is dangerous when too much,"

"I will remember your words mother,"

Helaena only nods before walking towards the prone for of Lion El Johnson. The Primarch is not in armor but in a green shift like that of a farmer but more ornate and befitting his status. His white hair and magnificent beard is combed beautifully and meticulously giving him a regal appearance. It seems that the Primarchs have not been negligent in the hygiene department when it comes to their father.

Helaena sighs as she can feel the sleeping curse placed on their primarch. The wounds inflicted to him by Luther might be labeled as a curse but it is nothing more than a heavy wound with a deep slumbering curse on it. Probably a poison derived from Tzeentch with a tad of Slaanesh to keep his mind drifting. There is only one choice, she has to beat it out, the hard way.

Flipping the Primarch to his stomach, Helaena conjures a giant slipper much to the confusion one one Chapter Master and the Dark Ones. With a powerful WHACK! The slipper fell on the Primarch's behind.

"OWWWWWWWWWWW! MOOOOMMMM WHYY?!" Lion El Johnson howls in pain flying five feet into the air holding his behind in pain with zero dignity as everyone suddenly trickles in from the sudden shout.

…

Memory: Great Crusade, the Fall of Furnost

Angron growls trying to down an entire bottle of Aspirin to lessen the pain of the Butcher's Nails as they await the reply of the Hive World they are about to conquer. They have already sent the message asking them to surrender to the might of the Iron Legion and its Primarch. As for ANgron he is mostly here for intimidation. He has already received word from Malcador about making sure that the planet receives the least amount of damage since it is a Hive World and would be quite useful to the Imperiun in the long run.

"Lord Primarch, I have their reply," one of his warriors says out handing the vox to Angron who places it on his ear before speaking through the speaker.

"So, do I have your word of surrender governor?" he asks through gritted teeth through the pain of the Butcher's Nails.

"Frak you! And frak your Emperor and Imperium! Frak your mother who is a whore and smelling of Elderberries!" and with that the line cut off leaving a blank tone.

Everyone watches as the face of the Primarch's face turns dark for a minute as he crushes the vox in his hands to smithereens before turning to his Iron Warriors.

"We kill everyone below. Not a soul shall be spared! No one can get away cursing my mother and live to tell the tale!"

A year later, Angron would be chewed out by the Emperor for massacring an entire planet leaving it barren and lifeless.

…

Memory Great Crusade: Terra, Ball

The dance floor glows gold and white as the Emperor dances with Morgana. She is dressed in white while he is decked in his golden armor. Tonight she is ten feet tall increasing her body mass in order to be able to keep up with John. Everyone just stares as the Emperor and his Companion dances the Broken Tango all around. Around however, her sons are glaring quite furiously at the men who dares even glare lecherously at their mother.

An hour later and a lot of the guests would be found unconscious after the Primarchs hunt them down one by one before dealing swift and deadly head blows. At least that is for the men. They left the women who awws and aahs at their father to glare jealously at their mother who is dancing with him. For the Primarchs it is a good life to have their mother dominate the field of the dance floor still.

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Author's Note:

Yep so another chapter done. Hope you like this Chapter guys. I really enjoyed writing it especially the interactions between Helaena and the Space Marines.

As usual please review for your reviews are my inspiration to continue writing this story.

I have to ask you a question guys. Next chapter, do you want a peaceful one or another major fight?

By the way guys who is Luther? And what is his powers? I really wanna know so that I can introduce him to the next chapter.

Also guys, please tell me about Lucius the Eternal and Lilith, be specific about details especially their powers and skills.

Please write scenes which you want to happen in the story so that I won't end up having a mental block since I am no expert at Warhammer 40K. Im taking suggestions for next chapter.