On Phoenix, Manric could see they were entering the final stage of their preparations.
Not much longer now, he mused as he looked over the brand-new recall ship, almost finished. Such an incredible effort to create, the Crypteks had done well. That led his mind to another thought, though, and Manric pondered the rather odd and unprecedented situation.
Until quite recently, Manric had never met Boris. He knew OF him, of course… his father had known Boris when he was young and had always sung his praises. Boris had served in the army, but in a very unusual way. Too valuable to ever be on the front line, his genius had gone into improving their weapons and in particular, focusing on combat grade bionics, so those with lost limbs could still fight. But by the time Manric became General, Boris had fully retired to civilian life. With the advent of shells, combat bionics no longer really made sense so now he had shifted to civilian bionics… or so Manric had thought.
Meeting Boris had been quite a revelation on that, because when he talked about his research he was blatantly lying. Manric had never encountered such a glib, fluent liar before in his life, or one who lied in quite such a manner… most liars tried to make themselves believe their own lies, to sell it better. Like the demon of Tzeentch that had almost deceived him, that could work on an empathic telepath if you were very, very good at it. Boris was the exact opposite, he knew fully well he was lying and simply trusted in his own skill to sell the lies. To Manric, that was utterly transparent and led him to gently but firmly pull the researcher aside. Manric remembered that brief conversation.
"Boris, you are aware of how my psionic gifts work? That I can detect lies?"
"Of course I am! Your gifts are truly remarkable. However, are you accusing me of lying? Perish the thought! I would only lie if the Stormlord told me to."
That response had taken Manric aback because it had been completely truthful, particularly the mention of Imotekh. Still, with something so important Manric had felt the need to verify it. Also, he was just curious. What was this about? So he had sent a one-way message to the Stormlord asking for clarification and gotten back a short response.
"I am aware of the projects Boris is working on, but it is not something that will involve you. Do not inquire further." Manric could accept that. There were many things he did not need to know and did not really care about, usually involving the civilian population. Still, he was free to think and what did this mean?
Manric quickly came to the conclusion that Boris' research into combat bionics had never stopped. He was probably also delving deeply into the biological sciences, in an effort to replicate the Imperium's great assassins. However, this was for use with the civilian population… Manric hated it, but he knew such things were a tool in the kit of any ruler. Of course Imotekh would want such things for himself.
Manric did evaluate Boris' personality, though, and came back amused but a bit dismayed. Highly intelligent, with a deep thirst for knowledge, passionate about teaching. Highly ethical yet also cheerfully manipulative, putting people on the right path so subtly they never even noticed… Manric imagined this would be what Tzeentch would be like if he had strong morals and a heart of gold. Manric was just glad Boris had all the psyker abilities of a stump of wood. Not only that, Manric suspected his family carried the Pariah gene. It was hard to tell, because empathic telepathy worked on all but the strongest of Pariah's, but Manric suspected a few of them were weak Blanks.
Setting all that aside – it really wasn't his business – Manric went back to his own work, which involved the preparations for the Pariah Nexus. It was very unlikely he would be acting as a fleet commander – they had so many, including the addition of Xahkephra – but he would be heavily involved in the ground war. So Manric was practicing on Phoenix, joining the great war games being held there.
Taking this planet intact actually worked out fantastically well for us. The combination of a Necron world, being orbited by a smaller human world, was extremely valuable. In fairly close proximity to Balor, they could get minerals and metals delivered and the humans could refuel on the water from Phoenix and pick up food from Egg. Egg was turning into a combination tourist town and vast storage facility. Meanwhile, Phoenix was turning into a true Necron world, but with plenty of water and some returning greenery. The great barren plains were the perfect place for the necrons to test out their weapons and enact great war games, with (hopefully) minimal wear and tear on the actual equipment.
The rest of his time, he spent with his friends and Sehenna. They had both gotten their augments, adding a new depth to their relationship. Manric was astonished by how much he enjoyed it – it was alien but so welcome, with someone he truly loved who loved him back. And Manric understood better now how completely the original process of biotransference had removed those feelings. Having his intimate nature returned was something of a shock.
Then, something very interesting happened.
Manric had to look up to meet the gaze of Phaeron Galmakh of the Novokh Dynasty. He was a giant of a necron and deeply intimidating, his body painted red and white. He held a giant, scarlet scythe in one hand and Manric was immediately wary of it. While he didn't think it was fully on the level of his spear, it was surely as good as the sword he'd given Fulgrim, perhaps better. The merest kiss of that scythe would inflict terrible injuries.
"Greetings, Phaeron," Manric said after gathering his wits. He'd been deep in the command net, managing the ground battle, but splitting attention between multiple things was something any good nemesor could do. It was unusual that one of them would be speech, though. "Do you wish to join our battle? If so, that scythe must be set aside." They did not want to court recall failures but also, they did not want to add to the Crypteks workload right now. There were some accidents happening, of course, but they didn't need that monstrous scythe taking heads.
"Ah, what fun! But no, that is not what I desire." Oh? "I have heard amazing things about you! When you finish, may I be given the honor of a spar?" Manric felt a deep tingle of anticipation at the thought. He didn't necessarily think he'd be able to learn anything from Galmakh – he seemed to be another like Diarmuid – but it would be great fun, to experience it at least once.
"Gladly. Live weapons?" Manric asked and Galmakh laughed, a wild, mechanical screaming sound. Manric might have found it intimidating but what he sensed behind it was simply good mirth. His mind mentally translated the sound to a great belly laugh.
"Of course! That is most fun," Galmakh said and Manric was getting the impression of a very good-natured individual. Passionate though, very passionate and his rages would be as powerful as his joys. To Manric though, the touch of Galmakh's emotions were enticing, enthralling. He'd hardly ever encountered someone who felt so strongly.
After the battle, Manric got to experience the fierceness of the Moon Killer firsthand. They squared up on the plains, the armies watching. Galmakh started the battle, charging directly at him and swinging his scythe. Manric easily leapt over it but Galmakh anticipated that and Manric barely evaded a quick grab for his ankle as Galmakh barely evaded the tip of his spear, shifting his head just a bit to the side. Ah, what fun!
As they battled fiercely, Manric evaluated the Phaeron of Novokh and realized that he was actually nothing like Diarmuid. Where Diarmuid's fighting style depended quite a bit on brute force, Galmakh was actually almost surgical in his use of the Blood Scythe. However, he paired that acumen with all the brute force he needed and he had the same enhancements and semephren weave as Imotekh. If Manric did not use his gauntlet and invoke Sanguinius, he was most certainly going to lose.
So he did that. Manric wasn't worried that Galmakh would call it unfair… no, the Phaeron was definitely the type to relish the challenge and be annoyed if Manric DIDN'T use his full power. So wings sprouted from his back and Manric's abilities improved, taking him to another level. Galmakh had to fight very hard and their weapons clashed madly, raising sparks. Manric would have been hard pressed to speak, but Galmakh did not have that problem.
"Ah, Laaror, can you hear me? I told Imotekh that you should have won!" Manric felt a pulse from his spear and oddly, there was nothing hostile about it. Pleasure? "Ultis did you dirty, he did! And I told him that too! He hates to hear the truth of his abilities, but he did not say that I was wrong!" Really? Manric had thought Imotekh might be sincerely deluded about that. "It was an honorable loss and I regret that I could not face you again!" Laaror had survived against this monster? Manric thought the War in Heaven must have been a marvelous time to be alive.
The duel ended quite abruptly and unexpectedly. Manric took to the skies, confident that there was little Galmakh could do to stop him, he had no distance weapons. Or so he thought… but when Manric was flashing towards the Phaeron, his course committed, Galmakh spun his scythe in a circle and threw the weapon!
?! Wild damage reports flashed across his vision as the blood scythe tore through half his chest and removed one of his arms and a wing. It missed his core but Manric suspected that was deliberate, Galmakh could surely have aimed perfectly if he wanted to. Manric hit the ground with stunning force, sliding through the rocks before he came to a stop at Galmakh's feet. Was that deliberate too? What fantastic control!
"I think you are beaten, eh?" Galmakh said jovially as the scythe rested gently against his neck. Manric gathered his wits enough to flash a glyph of assent. The scythe vanished and Manric managed to sit up, looking down at the damage. It was the kind of damage that you could fight through, albeit in a crippled fashion. The Living Metal could regenerate something like this, provided he had his arm and kept it close, but it would take a while. And even when it was done, Manric would always go see a Cryptek when he had a chance, full limb reattachments did not always go smoothly without a bit of help.
"Does anyone have my – oh, thank you," Manric said as a Cryptek helpfully came up with his arm and also, part of his chest. My goodness, it was a surprisingly clean cut. "I had no idea you could throw that," Manric said, still a bit stunned by the turn of events. The blood scythe really didn't look like it could be used as a throwing weapon, that was simply incredible. Galmakh flashed glyphs of amusement as the Cryptek started to work.
"Many aeldari have made that mistake, and it was their last!" Yes, he could see that. Manric glanced at his gauntlet, feeling an actual sensation from the stone, a kind of thoughtfulness. Manric thought it amounted to I will remember that. Could that little trick knock the true Sanguinius from the sky? Manric suspected it absolutely could. "Do you want to see it a bit slower?" OH!
"Yes please," Manric said instantly, deeply curious to see how that worked. Galmakh spun the scythe again and Manric saw what he'd done with a great sense of awe. "Incredible, you turn it into a flying buzzsaw. But wait, how does that work? Would it not hit on the blunt side?" Galmakh stopped and showed him the scythe and Manric saw that now, it did not HAVE a blunt side. All edges were razor sharp. "It shifts, incredible." What a weapon that was!
"I am showing you this because we will be seeing much of each other. My greatest weakness is naval matters, that is what my beloved Remula is for," Galmakh said and Manric nodded. He'd heard that about Galmakh, that he wasn't terrible commanding a fleet, but it wasn't his strength. Meanwhile, he was an absolutely superb ground commander and a monster in combat. "I am told I will be going with Zahndrekh's fleet so we must know each other, eh? Now, what can you do?"
"I will gladly show you," Manric said as he looked at his chest and shoulder. The reattachment was going well, it wouldn't be too long and then he would show Galmakh his tricks. That would make it harder for him to possibly win in a duel, of course, but that was unimportant compared to the greater strategic picture.
It took a fairly short time for everything to be properly reattached, thanks the clean nature of the cut, and Manric was able to demonstrate the full extent of his abilities to Galmakh. The Phaeron of Novokh quickly saw the great value of them and was particularly impressed with the Scrier's gaze and his ability to create rifts in reality.
"That is very interesting! Our Crypteks can move units around the battlefield, but usually not behind the enemy line," Galmakh mused and Manric nodded. That was a great limitation because other necrons were on alert for that sort of thing and would make sure any distance viewing was scrambled. Also, they could create 'traps' for any Cryptek trying something like that well behind their line. They had no real defense against the Warp version. "Hmm, will that work in the Pariah Nexus?" That was a good question.
"It will depend on how well the positive blackstone is functioning, I suppose. I really don't know," Manric admitted. He was confident the Scrier's Gaze would work, but not the warp rifts. That was essentially punching a corridor in the Warp and if the Warp wasn't present, well. It wasn't going to work. "I can do it on Hope, but only with great effort." Manric had tried just to see if he could.
"Interesting! Do you normally just transport yourself, or do you send attack teams?" Galmakh asked and they fell into talking shop. Manric found it quite engaging, Galmakh had a great mind for combat and asked insightful questions.
After they were done going over his abilities, Galmakh cheerfully introduced Manric to his Overlords. Manric politely greeted them all, forming quick impressions in his mind of their personalities. One thing he noticed, over and over, was that they felt almost worshipful towards Galmakh. Imotekh was held in high esteem by his forces, but this was different and Manric was sure he knew why.
Galmakh is incredibly charismatic. It wasn't just his empathic telepathy… Galmakh's intense emotions invited Manric to fall into them, but it was more than that. Or maybe it was just that everyone could feel it, even without empathy. Galmakh was deeply charismatic and Manric glanced at his spear, feeling the gentle pulse of it… a pulse that felt friendly. Even the spirits of the spear cannot help but like him. Manric felt a deep tingle of anticipation at the thought. Would he ever be able to fight at Galmakh's side, facing down great enemies? Manric felt a great longing and suddenly wished that he could have seen the War in Heaven. It would have been amazing, to fight at Galmakh's side!
Manric felt mildly guilty that he was longing to be part of the greatest conflict to tear apart the galaxy, but he also knew it was just his nature. War was Hell for the vast majority of people, but it just wasn't for him. And despite recognizing it, Manric was falling beneath Galmakh's spell.
Feeling reluctant, Manric finally parted from Galmakh and his crew to spend time with Sehenna. As he did, he made a mental note… he wanted to introduce Sehenna to the Phaeron. She would probably faint a little at the thought, but Manric thought Galmakh would deeply enjoy meeting her. Manric could tell he was the kind of ruler who enjoyed speaking with the common people and speaking with Sehenna would bring him back. As he thought of all that, though, Manric realized something. Something he hadn't really understood until now.
He was deeply looking forward to the war over the Pariah Nexus.
Loki was planning to go to Tizca to give Ahriman an update on Zivok's work with the Rubrik Marines when it happened.
'It' was the strangest sensation. It felt a bit like being grabbed by the arm and dragged, a bit like being grabbed by the scruff of the neck. Not once in all of his astral walking had Loki felt anything like it and it took him completely off guard, yanking him to a completely unknown destination.
That destination was underwater and Loki didn't panic at all, not really. He floated in the water, trying to intuit which way was up, and it was good he did because he was upside down! Flipping himself around he swam easily for the surface. Loki loved to swim, he'd always been a water baby, that was what his mum had said anyway.
The surface was pretty far away though and Loki was beginning to get really worried, his lungs were seriously hurting before he breached the surface and took a massive breath. Coughing a little, he swam to the shore and felt hard pebbles under his feet as he pulled himself out of the water. Reaching up, he grabbed his hair and rang it out a bit as he looked around, perplexed.
"Where am I and how did I get here?" Loki murmured, taking in the landscape. It was dark and a bit hard to see but after a moment, he tentatively identified this place as the Great Wasteland. But what was he doing here?
Then it got a bit easier to see as there was an explosion in the distance and something caught fire! Loki turned to see a battle going on and the shrubbery was on fire. There wasn't a lot to burn in the Great Wasteland, unless you were in the ruins, but someone was managing to set it on fire anyway! In the burning, Loki could see two great figures fighting back and forth and… was one of them missing a head?
"Oh no," Loki muttered. If he was right about who THAT was, the other person needed help. And from the size, he was guessing he knew who that person was too!
Loki was dead right. He ran over swiftly and quickly made out Mr. Dorn, looking super mad and intent as he fought something huge and scary! Just as big as Dorn, it was a man wearing armor and he glowed with a dark and fiery radiance. The missing head was replaced with what looked like spectral flames, billowing into the air and Loki knew he was right about what this was.
"Mr. Dorn! Follow me, you have to run, the river is right over there!" Loki called. He'd been dropped in the river so he'd know where it was, it was really hard to see it in the dark! To his surprise, though, Dorn just seemed to ignore him and punched the stranger in the chest? He flew back but Loki knew that was completely futile. "Mr. Dorn, that's the Dullahan! You can't fight it like that!" Or you could if you wanted to die. The Dullahan, the headless horseman, was physically invulnerable. You could knock it down and stomp it out but it would just regenerate constantly and keep coming at you, forever. Of course, it did have vulnerabilities and could be defeated, just not like this.
/Dorn/ The Dullahan's voice was spectral and wavering and Loki winced, although he'd expected it. That was the sign the Dullahan had selected its prey and would not be deviating from the hunt, except in the rare occasion that it switched focus. The Dullahan was notoriously single minded, though, so that rarely happened.
"Mr. Dorn, stop!" Dorn was completely ignoring him and Loki felt a bit afraid as he saw the look on his face. He looked completely enraged! But what could the Dullahan have done to get him that mad? It couldn't even talk, not really. "You have to stop! You can't win, it will wear you out!" No matter how strong a Primarch was, the Dullahan was just unstoppable… if you attacked him headlong like a dumbass. If you didn't do THAT, well. Regular people had defeated him before. Dorn turned for just a moment and Loki registered he had some kind of gun before he saw the future just far enough and dodged. The shot flew past him and Loki stared after it, shocked, before looking back at Dorn. Had he just SHOT at him?!
You can't talk to him when he's like this. Just get him out of there, a voice whispered in his head and Loki registered that this was a different voice, someone he'd never heard before. Not Satan or Cegorach, or one of the voices that came and went but were nonetheless familiar, this was definitely a voice outside his head. Loki hadn't understood the distinction before, but often his thoughts were just couched in the voices of old friends, or he imagined them saying the things they would have said, like his mum saying he needed to make friends. However, there were voices outside his head, the whispers of the Warp. This was one of those but who was it?
Still, Loki decided this voice was giving good advice. Mr. Dorn had clearly gotten the bit between his teeth and wasn't going to change course, and against the Dullahan, that was just a death sentence. He NEEDED to step in and put a stop to it and since he'd been dumped in the river, that was what whoever had brought him here wanted.
I kind of hate to do this a second time, Dorn might be ready for it but I don't have a choice, Loki thought as he summoned not-really-Gleipner again. He would have to wait for a good moment to use it, he could wait as long as necessary and Dorn would start to get tired.
Loki just patiently waited on the sidelines until that happened. As he did, he watched the Dullahan and noticed he was using a war hammer. That was unusual, in the legends where he was a warrior the Dullahan was recorded as using a sword. After a moment of thought, Loki frowned… that was more than unusual, it was weird. Because the Dullahan's legend involved decapitation and that was usually how he killed people, why would he use a hammer? You couldn't really cleanly decapitate someone with that. Did head crushing count?
It was a beautiful hammer though, with a beaked head. Loki couldn't make out too much else, they were moving too fast and the only light was the fires that were guttering out. Still, that was a BIG hammer, much too big for a normal person. It was the kind of weapon Diarmuid might use, because he was that kind of guy. Rogal Dorn's equipment was also looking really fine though! He'd definitely upgraded from the tutorial gear and had a nice, heavy sword and a shield that could catch the hammer. That was pretty impressive, the Dullahan was noted for being super fierce at combat.
It definitely took a while – Primarchs were something else! – but Dorn started to tire. Loki could see it in the way he was moving and the Dullahan, which couldn't get tired, was pressing his attacks. It was definitely time to move. Assuming his larger form with the grey greatcloak – he was going to need more strength and leverage – Loki started sneaking up on them.
It worked perfectly! At just the right moment, Loki smacked Dorn on the back with Gleipner and caught him up exactly like last time. Then he jerked him back, before the Dullahan's hammer hit the ground with an incredible crash, and Loki turned and ran, basically pulling Dorn onto his back and carrying him away. In the real world, this would have been almost impossible, Dorn was huge but in the Warp Loki could be huge too so it worked, sort of.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The shout in his ear made Loki wince. "YOU IDIOT HE'S RIGHT BEHIND US!" Huh? But he was running super fast – Loki glanced over his shoulder and cursed.
"Fuck!" OF COURSE the Dullahan had a horse! He was the headless horseman! It was the weirdest looking horse though, was that a cyborg? It wasn't the old style horse he usually rode, that was for sure. They were gaining rapidly though, Loki was fast but not that fast! "Oh man I hate this I hate it I'm sorry if you get bit –" Loki said before calling out the thing he needed. As he did, part of his mind realized that something really bad must have happened to Odin for this to be part of Loki's powers but he'd think about that later. Suddenly they were both riding a horse, a great stallion with six legs that moved faster than the Dullahan's mount could even dream. "Sleipner, be a good boy!" Loki said without much hope. He knew somehow that Sleipner hated him despite having to follow his orders. He'd find SOME way to be super annoying.
Loki didn't take Gleipner off Dorn because he knew Dorn might jump right off and go after the Dullahan. He did help Dorn get a proper seat on Sleipner, although that didn't last long because Sleipner decided to be a little bitch and instead of jumping over the river the way he easily could, he stopped dead at the edge of the river and BUCKED. Loki screamed and Dorn yelled something incomprehensible as they flew through the air! They hit the water super hard and went in deep. Loki kept a firm grip on not-really-Gleipner, knowing he couldn't let Dorn go. If he did, he'd go out of the river on the wrong side to take on the Dullahan again. Loki wasn't sure why Rogal Dorn had decided he really wanted to die, but he wasn't going to let him.
So Loki dragged Dorn to the other side of the river and pulled him out. They were both looking a bit like drowned rats and Dorn started cussing him out but Loki ignored him for a moment to cuss someone out himself.
"Sleipner, you are an awful son! I know I wasn't the best mum but I tried my best! You suck!" Loki called to the horse, who neighed derisively. "Oh, go away." Then Loki brought Sleipner back into himself, feeling a prickle of worry in his human mind. This wasn't right, Loki shouldn't have this power, what had happened to Odin? Then he looked at Dorn, who was swearing and trying to get out of the rope. As he fought, though, Loki heard something else.
/Fulgrim/ The Dullahan's voice was spectral and creepy and Loki blinked as it wavered and vanished. Had it just changed targets? That was unusual! The Dullahan was acting very strangely in general though, Loki had never seen it quite like this.
"DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! Now he's gone, how can I save my brother from this curse?" Dorn raged and Loki blinked, looking at him.
"Huh? What curse?" Loki asked, completely confused. Was he talking about the Dullahan? It was a curse, kind of, but that would be DORN'S curse. Well, Fulgrim's now. Dorn stopped and glared up at him.
"He is possessing the body of my dead brother, Ferrus Manus. I need to free him from it, how dare you interfere!" Wait, WHAT? Loki's thoughts skidded to a halt as Dorn yelled at him a bit. As Dorn was cussing him out, Loki realized what was going on here.
That isn't possible. The Dullahan isn't a possessive entity. Not in the conventional sense, at least. The body the Dullahan 'owned' was just the body he'd had in life. A real, physical body that had gone into the Warp and stayed there and become completely invulnerable. It could change shape though, so Loki hadn't thought much of the fact that it was larger but Dorn was saying this was a new body? That meant… Oh man, that's crazy. That meant the body of Ferrus Manus BELONGED to the Dullahan. And that could only be the case if… The Emperor of Man used the Dullahan to make a Primarch? Loki could kind of see why he would. The Dullahan was physically powerful, an expert swordsman and nearly invincible. However, it also meant the Primarch to get that spirit would be doomed to be beheaded. And when he was… the Dullahan would take what belonged to him.
Loki decided he wasn't going to tell Mr. Dorn all of that, though. He wasn't sure how he felt about his dad and how he'd feel about hearing the Emperor had sentenced this Manus guy to beheading from the moment he was born. Loki was a bit torn about it… now that he was thinking about it, beheading was hardly the worst fate, was it? The Emperor had probably figured a lot of his Primarchs would die in battle anyway so why not, right? Still, it seemed awfully cruel. Putting all that aside, though, Loki grabbed Dorn's shoulders and spoke seriously to him.
"Mr. Dorn, you failed this test. You failed so badly, you should be dead." Dorn looked outraged and wanted to say something but Loki shut him down with a cold blast of power. Dorn stopped, frowning and still really resistant, but listening. "This was the test of prudence, of knowing when the retreat despite the provocation, and you failed. Fortunately, something was looking out for you… I wasn't supposed to be here. I was going to talk to Ahriman and someone grabbed me and dragged me here instead. I'll give you a guess on who that might be," Loki said before releasing Dorn's shoulders and making Gleipner disappear. The Dullahan was gone, Dorn couldn't commit suicide by the headless horseman anymore.
"What are you talking about? I was going to win – OW!" Loki couldn't help it, he HAD to flick Dorn with Gleipner for that. He spoke quickly, before Dorn could try to hit him or something.
"What are YOU talking about? That was the Dullahan, the headless horseman! It regenerates from ANY injury, it NEVER tires, it's completely invincible if you're dumb enough to fight it!" Also! "And look at this! Just look! Did you KNOW this river was here?" Loki gestured at the running water as Dorn scowled, but with a bit of confusion underneath. "The Dullahan can't cross running water! This river was here for you to USE it!" This test had given Dorn what he needed to succeed.
"The river goes underground not that far from here, it would have followed me," Dorn said and Loki sighed, feeling super exasperated. Did Mr. Dorn not know the legend of the Dullahan? Maybe he didn't, that would explain all this.
"Mr. Dorn… you know that, and you didn't figure out what you were supposed to do? The Dullahan is dumb as dog dirt. It is stoooopid." Probably because it didn't have a head. "You were supposed to go over the river, then go and set a trap down there to catch it. That's the traditional way to defeat it," Loki said, reflecting on it. A lot of completely normal humans had trapped the Dullahan and gone on to live long, happy lives. Of course, it could abruptly show up because some other dumbass had freed it, but that was just how things went. Fortunately, it seemed like Dorn's brains were starting to work.
"I see. I could have trapped it and tried to exorcise it." That wouldn't work at all but Loki decided not to point that out. He could figure it out the hard way, it would be pretty harmless as long as he had the Dullahan in a good trap. Hmm, you know, that was interesting… because the Dullahan had a real, physical body it was totally possible that he could be trapped in a tesseract! And there was NO WAY he'd ever get out. If the necrons ever met him, they'd have it super easy, once they figured out that he couldn't be killed anyway.
"Yeah, pretty much. But I really did want to go talk to Ahriman, I need to give him an update and I'm running out of time," Loki said and Dorn frowned at him.
"What business do you have with the Thousand Sons?" he asked, sounding really reserved. Loki contemplated trying to explain and mentally gave up.
"It's a long story, but we're trading with him… he has something we really, really want. It's just a business arrangement, not an alliance or anything," Loki said and Dorn frowned, looking really stern.
"You cannot trust that filth. You understand that?" Dorn said and Loki nodded, although it made his heart hurt a little. He wanted to trust Ahriman, he really did, but he knew better.
"We're not, he'll hold up his end of the bargain and then we'll hold up ours, because he can trust us but we can't trust him." Dorn blinked before smiling a little, a tiny tilt of his lips. "Don't worry about it, he won't want to make an enemy of the Sautekh Empire anyway, Imotekh can be pretty vindictive… I really need to go though, and I've done what your dad wanted me to do." Loki was sure now that was the new voice he'd heard. Who else could it be?
"Wait – " Dorn started but Loki was already leaving and he didn't have time for this. He wasn't going to be able to spend as much time in Tizca as he'd wanted to, but it would just have to do. As he left, though, Loki made a mental note of the name the Dullahan had uttered as it was vanishing. Fulgrim. Was it too stupid to recognize the Daemon Prince Fulgrim as the actual Fulgrim? Was it going after the clone instead? Loki wasn't sure, but he would warn Eldrad and Yvraine and they could pass the message along.
It was dumb as hell to go after the clone instead of the demon, but the Dullahan's stupidity was every bit as invincible as his body.
On a very advanced Civilized World in the Imperium of Man.
"This is simply marvelous," a beautiful woman, wearing the finery of a very high noble, said as she laid a thin wafer of dark chocolate on her tongue. Closing her mouth, she shuddered a little as it melted and drenched her tongue in an exquisite taste that few in the Imperium of Man had ever experienced. The man across from her, a gorgeous young man with dark skin, smiled mysteriously as he fanned himself
"It is exquisite," the young man agreed before picking up a more elaborate bon-bon and biting into it. The insides were creamy and sweet but flavored with the delicious bitterness that was chocolate. The noblewoman suddenly leaned forward, her green eyes intent.
"And you can provide the plants?" she pressed and the young man also adopted a serious air, even as he languidly ate the chocolate.
"As long as you understand the dangers," he said and she waved that concern away with her fan. "And of course, if we can come to an acceptable price." His price would be high indeed, for this prize. After all, he would be risking quite a bit more than she was… she would no doubt have all kinds of barriers and layers of insulation, designed to let an underling take the fall if needed.
After a quick but spirited bargaining session, they settled on an acceptable price for the cocoa pods and seedlings, along with instructional materials on how to plant and nurture them. More books and materials on how to extract the cocoa and conch it to create fine chocolates. Everything they would need to set up their own cocoa plantations and chocolate manufacturing, far from the Sautekh Empire.
After the meeting the young man smirked to himself, eating another chocolate. If the woman had been a bit wiser she might have wondered why the restrictions on cocoa plants were so draconian. The penalty for trade in the seeds and plants was death or being converted to a servitor. No penal colonies, no hard labor, no ordinary slavery… just death or servitorship. That indicated the trade was considered a high crime, but why?
Most people, like this noblewomen, wrote it off as the Sautekh Empire protecting their interests. Chocolate was a very lucrative commodity and if the Imperium of Man could grow their own, the price would go down. However, that was only half right… if that had been the only concern, the penalty would have been hard labor. No, there was something much, much worse.
The Sautekh Empire and the Uhnashret Dynasty had learned that cocoa plants were adapted to Chaos. Deeply sensitive to the Warp, under light influence, the pods changed and the seeds became less desirable, resulting in poor quality cocoa. Under moderate influence, something utterly malign occurred as the cocoa plants became carnivorous and predatory. The pods still existed and actually became riper and juicier, full of very high quality seeds. But you would be very lucky to reach them as prehensile roots flicked out of the ground to grab the unwary. The leaves were razor edged and poisonous, and some of the pods became mouths full of teeth, interspersed with the genuine pods. They were deadly dangerous.
Worse yet, they were highly fecund and deliberately spread themselves. Birds and certain mammals would be allowed to harvest the pods and eat the seeds, all to spread themselves further. Sometimes the plants would pluck out their own pods and toss them away, also to spread themselves. It was highly effective and they could quickly become a plague on a planet, spreading like wildfire. That was where the knowledge of the Sautekh ended… they had accidentally discovered this on planting them on a small colony world. Allowing it to go no further, they had exterminated the plants while keeping some for study. Now, in the Sautekh Empire, they only planted cocoa on planets that were null to the Warp. Null through strong reality walls, or made null artificially with blackstone.
Mephet'ran could see the future more clearly than any but the finest Chronomancers, though, and he grinned as he thought about what he was inflicting on the Imperium of Man. Sautekh had never exposed the cocoa plants to anything beyond moderate Warp power. When exposed to truly heavy Chaos energies, which they were not adapted for, the plants would begin to mutate wildly and become something horrifying and monstrous. A certain planet would be quickly converted to a Hell World as the cocoa overtook the entire ecosystem and transformed it. And then?
Then, the plants would begin to breach the great underground complex of a sleeping Dynasty. They would wake up in confusion, their halls infested with Chaos plants and begin their attempt to cleanse the world. A small Dynasty and a small Tomb World, but Mephet'ran knew it contained a shard of himself, a good sized one. They would employ it and then, he would take it back. Mephet'ran aimed to get back this shard of himself and the cocoa plants would serve their purpose.
After the meeting, Mephet'ran took a walk and noticed, as he did, how many humans paused to stare at him. Particularly the females, and he smiled at some young ones as they giggled and whispered to each other. As he walked he reflected on it… it was foolish to wear this face. It was just such a delicious joke though! And if only the humans had watched the plays featuring him, they would have realized who they were dealing with. Mephet'ran absolutely adored that kind of little joke and knew he'd be using this face quite a bit, despite the dangers. Ah, what fun!
And what was the point of existing if you couldn't have fun?
Hades: The only known survivor of the Greek pantheon, Hades survived by being a complete coward. He surrendered the vast majority of his power to Nurgle, leaving only a few small dredges for himself and relegating him to the status of a very minor deity.
What most don't realize, however, is that this was not just cowardice but also cold-blooded intelligence and analysis. Hades tries not to betray it, but he is a genius nearly on the level of Imotekh. Constantly evaluating everything around him, calculating the odds, he rarely makes a wrong decision. Hades coldly decided to abandon the rest of the Pantheon and betray them to Nurgle. His betrayal was particularly devastating because he managed the afterlife of all the Pantheon and he effectively gave their power to Chaos before fleeing. Hades mildly regrets that, because many Gods he truly admired perished, but the deaths of his enemies can also make him grin.
Managing the Greek Underworld was actually a job, and a complicated one, as Hades administered the various afterlives for the faithful. Giving that to Nurgle was like a retirement for him, and Hades has become a bit of a lazy sybarite, enjoying the finer things in life. He incarnates absolutely nonstop, finding the Warp to be boring and dull compared to the mortal realm. Unlike Vishnu and Loki, Hades does not normally have a dual personality. His intense ego is so overwhelming, it tends to devour the human mind quite young and Hades gains full control over the body. Hades is not in control of this… much like Manric attempting to share Imotekh's processing power would have killed him, Hades 'kills' most of his Avatars independent thought simply by existing. It cannot be helped.
In terms of personality, Hades is cold, calculating and slightly sociopathic. Not really a conventional sociopath, he has the attitudes of a typical Greek God towards mortals. All mortal races, from humans to necrons, are lesser beings and Hades will treat them as such. The life and death of mortals means absolutely nothing to him, and Hades will kill to avoid a minor inconvenience. However, unlike a true sociopath, Hades has a full suite of emotions and can forge connections. He will usually regard his human friends and family as a bit like pets, but he will love them in his way. Hades does give some mortals the mental status of demi-god… still distinctly below him, but worthy of respect. The Primarchs all have that distinction and if Hades met him, Imotekh would quickly be added to that category.
In terms of powers, Hades is fairly typical of an Avatar but with an extreme level of control. He is capable of manipulating reality around him with such subtlety that it's very difficult to notice and with his incredibly fine mind, he can easily put entire chains of events into motion. This only works on mortals, however, as other Avatars will immediately realize what he's up to. However, Hades' reality alteration is so advanced that he can also convince the fabric of reality to accept his alterations, making them permanent. That only works for things that do not violate natural laws and Hades understands exactly how far he can go.
Hades also still has a power very particular to his Pantheon, the Myth of Inheritance. Not a voluntary ability, it is based on the many stories of demi-gods in the Greek Pantheon. If Hades sires a child on a human female, that child will inherit his godly power. Hades will normally hide such a child from the Black Ships and train them to his standards, which are high indeed. Being both powerful psykers and physically gifted, most such children leave a mark on history. At least one succeeded in becoming a Grey Knight, which makes Hades rather melancholy, because he would rather his child not embrace such a life.
Besides that, Hades has maintained a special power called the Gates of Death. When he surrendered his power to Nurgle he gave up control of the Underworld, but not the gates of entry. As such, Hades can banish a human to death, giving the soul directly to Nurgle or he can close the gates to them, denying them death. He doesn't like feeding Nurgle so he rarely does the former, but he can use the latter as a tool for healing. If death is firmly denied, it can give the human body an opportunity to heal, or healers the opportunity to fix the damage. This ability can also be used for torture and Hades will do that as necessary, although he takes no particular pleasure in pain.
Hades has made the Gates of Death his source of income as an Avatar. He has accumulated a vast level of medical knowledge over his incarnations and has perfected the use of reality manipulation to heal injuries in a permanent manner. He can literally graft nerves together and attach bionics in such ways that they are completely seamless, as perfect as the original flesh. Hades engages in everything from bionics to plastic surgery and mortals who get his attention are fortunate indeed. Unlike many such wonderful surgeons in the Warhammer 40k world, Hades has a mania for perfection and absolutely cannot bear creating abominations with mortal flesh, despite having the skill to do so.
In terms of his relations with other deities, most other Gods consider Hades to be a useless coward and he encourages that misconception. Loki is aware that Hades is FAR more intelligent than he lets on, although he doesn't know the extent of it. Hades is on decent terms with all the Chaos Gods and will sometimes do them favors, usually mending a particularly valuable subordinate who has suffered some kind of accident. Hades is actually on very good terms with Nurgle and is sometimes even invited into the garden and spends time talking shop, a draught from the cauldron in hand. Because Hades is a Death God, the contents of Nurgle's cauldron do not harm him in any way and actually return him to his old glory for a short time. He finds the taste quite pleasant. (death gods see things a bit differently) Slaanesh tried to corrupt him, but Hades regarded that with contempt. Despite his love for mortal pleasures, Hades is completely in control of himself and difficult to influence in any way. Tzeentch has attempted to recruit him and Hades respects the Lord of Change, but is also too wise to accept any offers. Khorne has very little to do with Hades directly, but appreciates him sometimes putting together his worshippers.
Hades is wary of the Abrahamic God and avoids his Angels, and he's actually afraid of the Emperor. Hades has met him several times before his confinement to the Golden Throne and the Emperor sends a chill up his spine. Despite it being almost impossible, Hades is convinced the Emperor spotted him and intuited his true nature. He is absolutely correct in that, and the Grey Knights and Custodes are both aware of the existence of Hades and his properties. Curiously enough, Hades knows the Emperor's true name. He keeps that to himself.
Hades has a very strange attitude towards his Avatars… he considers them to be disposable. He can just reincarnate into a new one, so he will not hesitate to kill himself if he's backed into a corner. Many people, ranging from Inquisitors to Chaos Space Marines, have learned this as the prize they thought they had swiftly vanished from their grip. Also, it's nearly impossible to stop Hades from killing himself as he can use reality alteration to stop his heart or give himself a fatal brain bleed. Partly because of this habit, Hades is absolutely masterful at restarting as a child and getting to adulthood successfully.
The saddest thing about Hades is that Persephone is still alive but powerless and sealed into a pendant that Hades wears at all times. Hades has been trying for millennia to convince her that what he did was for the best and to incarnate by his side, but she blames him for the downfall of the Greek Gods and refuses all his entreaties. Hades sometimes summons her and binds her to a body, so he can have another try at changing her mind. They typically have a long argument before he finally returns her to the amulet in a very foul mood. Hades would kill a human just for breathing after such an argument.
