The singing and shouting and yelling in the line of mad dancers was growing ever louder as I was dragged along helplessly. Some of the outliers who had not been in the line were now killing themselves by cutting their throats, dying with expressions of excruciating pleasure on their faces. I tried to move out of the line again, but now, I felt a presence holding me helpless to defend myself. It was as if an outside force had hijacked my body, and all I could do was move my head and continue the dance here. The air was heavy with bliss and agony, things I thought I could almost taste, like a fog of electricity.
The song was reaching some sort of crescendo, I realized with fear. Creepily, it sounded almost something like that happy "tra-la-la-la!" part at the end of the Munchkinland scene in Wizard of Oz. To my right, and to my left, the dancers were now cutting the throats of their partners along the dance, like a line of falling dominoes, bleeding death. It appeared as if I would be the last person to die! I guess when they said I had been the "Chosen One" that it actually meant, "This bitch dies last lol."
Even as the cultists died, the song was kept at full deafening intensity, charging the atmosphere with even more obscene power. The air was thick with magic, noise, and chaos. It was uncomfortable to even breathe here.
I never thought I would die being forced to dance by a suicidal cult. Maybe I'll go to a better universe this time, I thought, watching the people about ten feet away kill one another and fall where they stood. Wait, who am I kidding? I'm going to be eaten by daemons in the Warp, haha. As the line of murder advanced to a few feet away from me, something even more unexpected and unexplainable happened.
The Key, laying half forgotten under my shirt, began to grow warmer against my bare skin. I felt a rush of energy as my willpower returned, and my survival instincts blazed back into action. I attempted again to pull my hands away from the grips of the man and woman who held my left and right hands, but discovered I was still held fast. Time slowed down as I watched a man with a slashed throat cut what looked to be his grown son's neck, a few people away on my right. The father fell to the ground, but the son turned and made bewildered eye contact with me. I somehow physically saw his soul escape just as he drew a knife across his sister's throat, continuing the line of slaughter. The son's soul looked like a wisp of ghostly energy, almost like a cartoon rendering of a classic Halloween ghost. As it left his body, it started to pull toward the statue above us, screaming.
The statue was eating them! I thought, shooting a hateful glance above. Feeling strangely brave, I cast my psyker awareness out with a strange imperative, reaching. This felt really dangerous, but I felt furiously emboldened by seeing the daemon statue consume people. If I could fight back in any way, I would. I was definitely dead if I didn't. Instead of watching the soul be devoured by the abomination above us, I caught the little wisp by the tail. I felt an instinct to "pull", and instead of letting the spirit fly off, I yanked at it. The white energy of the dead teenager wheeled around and struck me in the chest, right where the Key was. Memories that weren't mine filtered through my consciousness. This all happened even before this boy's bleeding body struck the ground. The next person died to my left, a beautiful bald woman with metallic tattoos, and with an ethereal hand, I ripped her very soul out from her shell as she fell. Memories of living a life as an artisan of fine jewelry washed over me.
Now I was eating souls instead of letting a daemon-possessed Statue of Liberty devour them. Funny the direction life takes you, huh?
Above me, I felt something react. The daemon inside the colossus had noticed that someone was stealing its dinner, and it wasn't happy about that. When the people directly to my left and right fell dead (apparently a husband and wife) their energy consumed by either me or the gem I held around my neck, I actually felt a strange sense of awe and gratitude. A whimpered "thank you" alighted in my mind from the dead man, whose blood spilled over my boots. Their knives failed to reach my neck, and I now stood alone in this bloodied, now-silent village.
"No thanks," I said, ripping the crown of flowers off my head.
This all happened within a few moments. Of course, now, the creature inside the statue was really pissed at me, and I was the only one left standing in front of it. A malefic presence wrapped around me like a dragon's claw, and I felt a "pull" as the abomination attempted to rip the soul right out of my living body.
The sensation of a creature like this trying to pull away your very essence cannot compare to anything I have ever felt before. I felt as if I were a very powerful fish on a hook, fighting for my life against a maddened fisherman. I braced myself, pushing back with all my might. Not today, lady!
YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED. YOU ARE MINE. I WILL LIVE AGAIN. The daemon screamed at me, as my body began to levitate slightly off the ground in the ghostly struggle. Distantly, I heard Wolfie barking madly at the situation, and it appeared that he was struggling to remain substantial in this insane scene, flitting in and out of existence. COME TO ME AND SCREAM FOREVER IN MY EMBRACE, I heard the monstrosity above me bellow into my mind.
It pulled, and terribly, I felt pieces of myself yield, falling into the abomination. Darkness started to creep into the corners of my vision. Not again! I thought angrily. I am not going to die again! Not at home, and not to you! I summoned all my rage, and indignation and screamed, "FUCK YOU!" This seemed to work, and with a thunderclap, the link was severed. That wasn't the end of it, though.
I fell backward on the ground again, gasping, and I scrambled backwards away from the golden statue, hot blood absolutely covering my legs and backside. The fresh hot corpses were saturating the scene with blood from what had to be at least a hundred unfortunate people. Everyone around me was dead, but then, I noticed odd, jerky movement among the nearby corpses. Oh no...
Where I had been standing ahead of me, the beautiful dead woman with the tattoos began to move once again. She was pulled to her feet like a puppet on marionette strings, and her flesh began to shift and bend with the same rending sounds that the Changeling made when it came into existence just a short while ago. Due to the shattering agony of getting pieces of myself torn away and eaten, I was having trouble standing up, shaking like a leaf. The Key on my chest blazed with warmth against my skin. I weakly stood up again and continued stumbling backwards, trying to put as much space between me and the from the transfiguring bag of flesh. It was subsuming some of the other corpses around it for more raw material, becoming a conglomeration of stolen, ruined flesh.
The creature grew very tall, a handful of times my height, but nowhere near as massive as the statue that had been its prison. Four arms sprouted with the sickening noise of rending bone and viscera, with the upper pair ending in scything black crablike pinchers, and the lower pair smoothing themselves into hands with elegantly curved razor sharp claws. White waves of flawless ivory skin coated its profane flesh. Shapely copper-skinned legs ending in sculpted goatlike hooves supported a torso where six breasts grew into existence, along with jewelry-pierced genitals that would be more appropriate on a mutant demon stallion in a hentai comic than anything on two legs. After the bulk of its body had formed, a silken white robe wrapped about it to offer some token modesty. Finally, a head that resembled that of the androgynous statue above us twisted into view, shifting from an angry expression into something chillingly placid. A golden crown of horns emerged from it's head. I was then able to recognize what sort of daemon this was.
This thing was a fucking Keeper Of Secrets, and I was probably screwed in more ways than one. I had stolen parts of its meal, and it was probably angry at me. I stumbled back on the ground, stunned and out of breath by the whole situation. Changeling, where are you? Come on, Glinda! I tried to yell at it to get over here and save my mortal ass. As I struggled back to get on my feet, I saw a familiar shadow appear at side. Reflexively, I picked Wolfie up. The poor little astral hound was frightened, and he buried his nose in my shirt, continuing to flicker in and out of existence.
I watched helplessly without being able to move a muscle as the creature closed the gap between us, which was around the distance of a third of a football field. The greater daemon was absolutely interesting to look at, at least. It definitely blended the qualities of repulsive and attractive in one package. This one still resembled the Statue of Liberty somewhat as it clopped heavily over to where I was struggling, trying to get my bearings. It didn't appear to be in a hurry, clearing a man-sized length of ground with each graceful step of its gold-embellished hooves. It snorted like a bull, a gout of steam escaping from its nostrils. With eyes that resembled swirling, unnatural sapphires, it turned its massive crowned head toward the manor from which I had come. It blinked, and its calm face twisted into a slight frown.
Honestly, the more I looked at this thing the more I was captivated by it. No wonder they were dangerous. As it walked, and I felt a sensation as if all my nerves were being electrified, and I began to feel a compulsion to kneel in adoration of this obscene monster. It felt like my very being was being influenced, and my attention became transfixed on the daemon. A beautiful perfume and the sound of tinkling bells wafted through the air. Feelings of dark bliss began to ripple through my nervous system. Wait, how could I have ever thought this beautiful creature was a monster, I thought? I was a fool! I found that I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. It was just so beautiful. So perfect. So...
This supernatural compulsion hijacking me immediately evaporated when I felt a friendly tap behind me over my left shoulder, and I felt my energy restored. With not a moment too soon, I heard a familiar cheerful voice in my mind. Well, this is a terrible pickle now, isn't it? You interrupted a grand ritual to enable old Amnaich the Golden here to bind itself to that statue, and infuse it with enough power to become fully mobile and Materium stable! Instead, it has been forced to use icky corpses to make a less-than-golden form. I'm sure it'll be reasonable and totally understanding to the one who has ruined all the fun! What a pickle indeed! Hearing the friendly Tzeentchian daemon say that wasn't reassuring.
You're not helping! You could've warned me! I scolded at it, and heard it snigger again. Not like I could've fucking done anything anyway.
Okay, sorry, serious time now! Let me see what I can do. I heard the Changeling clear its physical voice dramatically in an "Aaah ahh AHEM" noise.
Amnaich looked down at me curiously from about twenty feet away, and paused its step. With another gout of steam, it scrutinized me deeply with those incredible jewel-like eyes.
"Where is Evanora?" It questioned gently in an alien voice that was both male and female. The voice was definitely disappointed. It apparently had its heart set on munching on a certain soul, and was disappointed that it wasn't in my body. It cocked its head, continuing to cooly investigate me, crossing its two humanoid arms over its chest and shifting its weight. This thing had been uncontrollably enraged just a few moments ago, and the fact that it now appeared perfectly calm was terrifying. It pointed a black crab claw that had to be as big as I was tall in my direction. "Who is this thing that dwells within? You are not neverborn, yet you have taken Evanora of the East's skin. Who are you?"
Briefly insulted at being called a "thing", I was at least happy that it wasn't instantly killing me. I tried to explain as it began to walk ever closer again, looming over the scene and clacking its crab claws in anticipation. A hoof effortlessly crushed a torso as it advanced, spilling splintered ribs and shredded organs everywhere. This wasn't good, no not at all. Maybe I could talk my way out of dealing with a greater daemon of Slaanesh, I thought grimly. I certainly couldn't fight it. "It-it was an accident! I didn't mean to come here!" I said, trembling.
The greater daemon wasn't impressed. It shook its head.
"Well, my little pet, I can cause accidents too," It said, a knife of sadism drifting sexily into its terrible musical voice. It closed its eyes, and lifted a hand, but before it cause said accident, the Changeling behind me piped up.
"Aren't you aware that the Key is still somewhere nearby here, brother Amnaich? Won't our master be upset about you having it within your grasp and wasting all your time being dramatic? How much time until the black towers rekindle?" Oh yes, fantastic. This thing wants whatever this gem is around my neck. Yes, Changeling, thank you for reminding that abomination that I'm wearing something this thing apparently wants. You're a real pal. Apparently, I had thought that too "loudly" because the friendly daemon responded with a cheerful telepathic, I aim to please!
Amnaich's expression brightened with interest, and it said "Yes! The Key!" At least it was paying attention to the Changeling and not me right now. It fixed its eyes over my shoulder, and sniffed the air. It was no longer moving forward, and only ten feet away. If the light had been right, we would be in the Keeper's shadow. The presence of this thing so close made my stomach turn, despite the Changeling's protection. From this short distance, I could see how being in close proximity to a greater daemon could really screw someone up. I could almost see reality fraying at the edges. A few snorts later, and it then made a scowl as if it had smelled something putrid, still looking in the direction of the Changeling. "You are no sister of mine, deceiver!" It snapped, one of its claws clacking. The Keeper of Secrets was not fooled by the Changeling's ruse. "Where is the Key, Tzeentchian trickster? What have you done with it? I sense it near! Bring it to me or I'll..."
"Too late! The Key has already bonded to a new master, and this one is a Traveler. It'll stay there for now!" Changeling was now beside me, and motioned with her wand the Key which had somehow slipped out of my shirt. It glowed softly. Thanks for that, buddy. Thanks.
The monster turned toward me again, snarling, exposing sharp teeth behind sculpted lips. "Give this thing to me! Give it to me now or I will make you pray for your death! I will rend and torture you for eternity!" So, what was stopping it from simply killing me right now and taking it? That creature could conceivably end me with one swipe of a claw from this distance.
Before I could say anything else, Changeling made everything worse and leaned over me with a jovial suggestion, "Keep a hold of that gem you wear. It must be very powerful, since Amnaich didn't kill you immediately upon coming in to this world!" Changeling's voice held a mischievous tone.
Hearing this, Amnaich stomped a hoof down on the ground not a few feet away from me, crushing a human head as easily as a grape. A spray of human brains reached me, a bit of which hit me on the lip. It roared like some kind of unholy combination between an opera singer and a tyrannosaurus rex. "You stay out of this, servant of the Conspirator! Or I'll destroy you as well!" it screamed, blasting me with fetid hot daemon breath and making my ears ring. I only pissed myself a little bit, and I am very proud of that. This simply caused the Changeling to burst into musical laughter, and pipe up in mockery again.
"Like I said, too late! You don't have any power left here, and you couldn't touch her if you wanted to. Don't you feel it? Times up! You wasted all of it making that corpse body you're walking around in, and as I can feel, the black towers have reignited. You have failed once again! Now, begone, before the Imperium shows up and sends a lance strike down on the last statue you have!"
There was a tense moment. Amnaich's eyes lashed to and fro. It did not move forward.
After a few seconds, the Keeper's face became twisted and hateful. It held out one of its "human" arms, observing it. As I watched, it was beginning to blacken and shrivel. It responded with that terrifying calmness once again in that beautiful honeyed voice, "Very well, I cannot attend to you here and now, but know this: my kind has long memories. Now that I am free to return to the Great Ocean, your time is limited, and I will claim you. No matter where you go now, I will find you. When I find you, I will torture you, consume you, excrete you out, and devour you again and again, over and over, for the rest of time. There is no escape," It paused, hissing. The fact that this thing still looked like it had Lady Liberty's head was really extra upsetting on top of everything. It began again, its voice husky and bestial as it nearly pinned me with its inhuman eyes. "I have consumed a portion of your very soul, Traveler, and it has become me. I will not cease until I have devoured the rest of you, and claimed the Key for The Dark Prince." I noticed now that there were patches of darkness appearing on the skin of this daemon, as if it was rotting away as quickly as it had come into being. Of course, when it spoke again, it said a line which was all too familiar.
"I'll get you my pretty, and your little hound as well!"
Amnaich then stepped back, and raised its four arms to the sky, which were starting to smoke. Out of nowhere, a bolt of magenta lightning nearly blinded me, striking the ground where the daemon stood with a deafening crash. Momentarily blinded, I blinked repeatedly until I could see once again. Amnaich was gone. Only a smoking crater remained where the greater daemon had stood.
I couldn't speak, and my knees buckled out from under me as I began to vomit the remains of the nutrition bar I had eaten earlier. I dropped Wolfie (who actually just vanished again) and fell kneeling into a shallow puddle of hot arterial blood. Behind me, I heard Changeling make a patronizing "aww" sound at me, as if I was a stupid child. This was too much, I thought, looking at the piles of fresh bloody bodies steaming in the cool sunny air. This was way too much for anyone. This... this...
"I know, I know," Changeling said, walking into my field of vision, dragging a hand around my shoulder as I gasped to contain my emotions from the incredibly traumatizing thing I had just witnessed. The same black marks I had seen rotting the Keeper of Secrets had started to shrivel the friendly daemon, and parts of it were translucent now. Seeing Glinda, the Good Witch of the North smiling kindly at me in the site of a suicidal massacre was absurd, and I started to cry-laugh. This was my life now, the worst possible thing that could happen has happened. Wolfie appeared out of thin air again, sitting in a pool of blood that didn't touch him with his paws reaching up my side, wagging his tail and trying to comfort me like I had just had a bad day at school.
"F-F-Fuck..." I gasped, dry heaving into a steaming pool of blood.
"Its alright, dear. Here," she conjured an animated pink handkerchief which flung from her hand and slapped me right in the face, causing me to yell out in fright. I pulled the handkerchief away, and gave the daemon a nasty look. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean that," she said. "The Warp is getting shut out here again; manifestation is breaking down..." she shrugged. Changeling sounded like she cared at least, but I knew that she was a daemon and was probably just doing all this for her own entertainment. "I do apologize, but I must go."
"W-what? No! I-I don't know what to do! This daemon is after me and I just.. I just..." I didn't know how to process what had happened, and began to weep again.
"I have to. I actually told the truth with old Amnaich back there," she said, pointing at the blasted patch of ground where lightning had struck. "The black towers, someone turned them off and turned them back on again. Saved your ass though, so be happy about that at least!"
"Black...what?"
The increasingly transparent darkening form of the Changeling was beginning to destabilize back into the Warp, but I saw as she pointed her wand in a direction off to my left. I turned where she had indicated, my hands on my knees.
I'm sure fate will direct you well, Traveler. Always remember, don't lose sight of that Key around your neck, not for a second. You have made an enemy of Amnaich the Golden, a neverborn of great power. To most, that would be an insurmountable obstacle, but I am a being of hope, and I have great hope you will find favor wherever you go. I heard the daemon's sentiment in my mind advise warmly as I was finally able to see the land clearly, now that it wasn't covered in smoke and fire.
Where smoke had obscured the landscape completely before, I could now make out sparse trees, farms, and a forest ahead of me. A winding road snaked through the land like a stream The location we were on was actually at the top of a gentle hill, which gave us a good view of the lay of the land. In the distance, possibly a few days away by foot or an hour or so by car, I saw a massive tower, thin and impossibly tall, reaching into the heavens. It was so tall that it reached into the clouds. I was stunned into speechlessness again at yet another impossible thing, and stood taking the sight in. I think I recognized what that thing was, actually. Coughing, I straightened myself up.
It looked like a Cadian pylon, right out of the lore! This must be what the history book was talking about. Levant had Warp suppression pylons, just like Cadia. These impossible towers supposedly could extinguish the Warp's ability to interact with the Materium, which is why I was able to avoid getting killed by a freshly materialized Keeper of Secrets. Someone, or something, was messing around with the pylons here, for good or for ill, I thought. For a brief moment, I wondered if I was actually on Cadia, but then remembered that Cadia would probably not tolerate a giant daemon possessed Statue of Liberty with suicidal Slaaneshi cultists just operating out in the open like this.
"So, what do I do n-?" I turned around to look for the Changeling again, and found only a blackened cloud of mist. She had gone back to the Warp. Huh. At least Wolfie was still around, I thought gratefully. It was kind of neat having an astral hound as a buddy. Count your blessings, I guess. Wolfie lifted his paw up at me from a sitting position, and made a sad little whine. Since life hates me, I noticed the little dog began to gradually fade away until he too was a black smear in the air. As I stood wondering what to do, I registered that a small light had appeared at the top of the tall structure, partially obscured by clouds.
A noise on the ground startled me, and I almost toppled back onto the bloody mess. Were there any survivors?
"Hello?" I called out. I started to walk toward where I thought I heard the noise. "Is anyone still alive here?" Despite the noise, the atmosphere even felt dead. It was completely silent here. It was as if the greater daemon had come in and sucked all the life out of the land, I thought grimly. Maybe it was just the wind?
A noise again, and it really sounded like someone trying to move. Maybe I was wrong? I picked over to where I had heard this new shifting sound again, and once again, I heard nothing. Maybe I'm losing my mind and hearing things, I thought. I really should've expected what I heard next, considering how things had been going recently.
A woman with her neck cut low enough to not damage her voice box said with a flat, artificial voice, "Follow the northern road." It was like what the little bionic girl had said to me earlier in this whole mess. At least it wasn't "Follow the yellow brick road," I thought cynically.
Another voice, this one a male, on the opposite side of the killing field. "Follow the northern road."
More voices started to sing up from the dead, all suggesting to me to "Follow the northern road." It was exceedingly ghoulish that this was happening. I walked through the carpet of fresh corpses, blood staining my boots.
I came upon an unwelcome sight. It was the little girl with the white dress and the bionic eyes. She was laying dead, but thankfully, what killed her wasn't a cut to the throat. In fact, I was uncertain as to why she was dead. She looked as if she was sleeping, her eyes closed and peaceful. The blood on her white dress only seemed to be from the people around her. As I noticed her, her bionic eyes opened, and once again, they fixed on me. She sat limply up, and turned her head to me.
"You," she said clearly in that creepy artificial voice. "Go to the tall t-t-tower on the northern r-road, and your questions may be answered. Seek the k-keeper of the tower," the little girl seized, as if the force animating was having great difficulty keeping her upright. "S-s-say the words 'sit n-n-nomen viator benedictu-uum', and the guardians sh-all admit y-you. You are in d-d-d-daanger, traveler," The little girl shuddered again, and her head slouched forward, but her arm raised limply as if pulled by a string to point toward the distant pylon. After these actions, she fell back down, limp and cold and lifeless.
My Latin (or High Gothic here) wasn't the best, but that sounded like "The name of the traveler is good" or something close to that. I wasn't certain. But, I was new in this reality, so maybe it meant something different. What now puzzled me was the repeated use of the word "traveler" to refer to me. This wasn't something I knew about from the lore, but I conceded that there were bigger things to worry about here than what daemons and a dead animated little girl said to me.
I had a choice here. I could either stay in the ruined manor on the edge of a town with gigantic golden daemon statue that wants to come out of the Warp and eat me, or I could see what the pylon had to offer. The choice wasn't that hard. If I stopped to think, I would probably lose my shit, so I decided to at least have an adventure out of this. I'm off to see the...pylon? The wonderful pylon in...Levant? Yeah, that sucked and could not be adapted into the song. Whoever was writing this dumb story to my life must have been a sadist on crack.