The moment he felt the sudden surge of power, Malcador leapt to his feet and rushed to the window of his office, his eyes turning in the direction of the battle.
He could feel two overwhelming powers: his old friend...and Isha.
The Sigillite had no doubt that every psyker on the planet could feel Isha. Her power was still restrained, but it was nonetheless greater than that of any being on Terra save the Emperor himself. The Guardian of Mankind was a blazing beacon of golden fire, and his power should have completely overshadowed that of any psyker in his vicinity, but Isha's presence was easily distinguishable, a star of emerald light, less bright and overwhelming than the Emperor's, but nonetheless impossible to miss.
Malcador concentrated, doing his best to pierce through the auras of the Emperor and the Eldar warp-construct to sense whatever must have caused them to unleash their powers. And, ah, there it was. An assortment of minor daemons. Nothing to be concerned about, the Emperor could handle them easily.
More worryingly, Isha's presence was changing. For as long as she had been on Terra, it had been calm and serene, and Malcador had never been able to find a trace of anything else no matter what he tried. Even when she had rebuked him for his handling of the VI, her presence had barely rippled.
Now, it was. The emerald light had taken on a more fey and ominous hue, and her power felt wilder and darker. It conjured visions of primordial forests under moonlight, with fey dangers hidden in the shadows and the primal roar of some savage beast echoing in the distance.
The only consolation was that it was obvious the Emperor had permitted Isha to unleash her power in such a way, perhaps even instructed her to do so. They had been discussing ways of testing her combat abilities, and the Guardian of Mankind would not have hesitated to seize an opportunity if it came upon him.
And yet...Malcador could not help but worry that Revelation was being reckless. For all that it was his duty to question his lord, Malcador had rarely harboured doubts such as this over the Emperor's chosen course of action.
It was true that they were doing their best to buy as much time for humanity as possible, that Isha's aid had been invaluable in both accelerating their conquests and building a stronger foundation for the Imperium than they could have hoped for with the Primarchs gone, but Malcador could not shake the feeling that these victories had a cost that had yet to make itself clear.
The Sigillite could only hope his old friend knew what he was doing.
The Fury was afraid.
When the Master had sent them to attack the Golden Eagle-the Anathema-the Usurper, the Fury had known it was being sent to its doom. The Eagle-Anathema-Usurper was too strong to be brought down by a handful of daemons.
But the Master was desperate and afraid, willing to do anything to slow down the Eagle-Anathema-Usurper.
Even so, the Fury had not expected the Great Tree-the Verdant Queen-The Huntress to be there as well. But it and its brethren had attacked it out of fear and the hope that the weakened Great Tree-The Verdant Queen-The Huntress would not be as powerful as the Eagle-Anathema-Usurper.
They had been wrong.
The Great Tree's branches and roots had proven as lethal as the Eagle-Anathema-Usurper's talons, and now the Great Tree threatened to undo it entirely.
So the daemon did the only thing it could: it prayed.
To the youngest of the Four, the enemy/daughter of the Great Tree, the Princess of Pleasure.
And its prayers were answered.
Isha jumped back as the war-construct eruptd in an inferno of purple flames and the daemon within was claimed by Slaanesh's endless hunger.
The android's skin writhed and twisted as it reshaped itself into a form loosely approximating that of one of her children, its hair shimmering white and skin glowing obscenely violet.
To mortal eyes, the creature was stunning beyond belief, with incomparable allure, with hauntingly beautiful features and an aura that compelled all to approach.
But Isha could see beyond the surface, to the monster underneath. In the Immaterium, Slaanesh had claimed the daemon for its own, and it had changed from a shrieking minor spirit into a hideous serpent the size of a city, monstrous and mutated, with fangs dripping with venom and white slitted eyes that watched Isha with greed.
"Hello, mother." The creature smiled.
Isha felt her blood boil once more, ancient instincts and a fury she had not felt in aeons surging to the fore and throwing her into a charge, her world shrinking to the abomination that would dare to-!
A blazing spear of golden fire suddenly blasted through the daemon, which shrieked in agony.
The Emperor strode towards Isha and the Slaaneshi daemon, leaving the ashes of his own opponents behind him as he concentrated more of his power to smite the creature.
He doubted that Isha truly needed his aid, for the daemon was still just that, a mere daemon no match for a warp-construct created by the Old Ones to fight in the greatest war the galaxy had ever seen, but he had given his word that he would protect Isha, and he did not intend to break it.
And even so, the attention that Slaanesh had focused on Isha was...concerning. It could not manifest enough power to pose a threat to her, not so swiftly and without preparation, least of all in his presence, but even the amount of power it had poured into the Chaos Android was surprising.
It had been a very long time since the Emperor had enjoyed surprises.
And when he had heard the daemon refer to Isha as mother, and felt her power and rage spike in response...well, it seemed best to nip this in the bud.
Raising his hand, the Lord of Terra conjured a dozen more spears of golden fire, preparing to bring them down upon the Slaaneshi daemon and annihilate it utterly.
Isha blinked, her rage mingling with surprise as the golden spear exploded on impact with the daemon, and the flames promptly reshaped themselves into burning chains to bind it in place.
She...had not expected the Emperor to act so swiftly. The daemon was no true threat to her, after all. Isha had thought he would wait to see how she would handle it.
His swift defense was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one.
Isha stepped back to observe another dozen spears of golden flame slam into the daemon as the Emperor strode closer and stood next to her. Together, they watched the daemon burn.
"Thank you, your majesty," Isha said eventually, once her rage had subsided enough that she felt that she could speak properly. "But you did not need to intervene." Perhaps it was not the wisest thing to say, but Isha could not resist the urge to prod the Emperor a little more, to see what his reaction would be. That, and perhaps she was a little angry over not being able to kill the daemon herself.
"I gave you my word that you would have my protection." The Emperor replied, extinguishing the golden flames with a wave of his hand. "And Chaos is unpredictable. What happened here was unexpected, and I thought it best not to take anymore risks."
Isha exhaled carefully, suppressing her rage at the daemon as much as she could. "I understand. Shall we return to the forest, then? I would like to check it, just in case those parasites slipped something past us."
"Of course," The Emperor replied. "Come."
Malcador stepped back from the window, exhaling as the presence of daemons vanished, and Isha's power receded. It had risen sharply just now, darkening abruptly with a cold, primal rage that had made his most primitive instinct scream in terror, but then the daemon had died and she had reined herself in. Malcador had rarely felt anything like it, not since the days of the most terrible days of the Age of Strife, when fighting the mightiest of Greater Daemons.
Still, things had gone well, it seemed, if Isha has contained herself after the Emperor killed the daemon. He still questioned his lord's decision to allow Isha to unleash her power like this, with so little preparation, and what had provoked her like this, but if anything had gone wrong, it would have been obvious.
Hopefully, the terraforming had gone well too. For all that he mistrusted Isha, Malcador would be lying if he did not share the Emperor's hope to see Terra restored to life and beauty. He had not even thought it was possible before Isha had come, but now…
But then, that was the story of his life, wasn't it, Malcador reflected. He believed in the Emperor's ideals and vision as something worth fighting for, as a beautiful dream that should be pursued...but he did not think that even his old friend could truly bring them to fruition.
Still, one could always hope he was wrong.
The Emperor watched pensively as Isha examined the forest carefully, searching for anything that Chaos might have done while they were distracted. He doubted they had attention to spare, but it was always best to check. And it was clear that tending to the forest was helping Isha calm down as she methodically analyzed the forest down to the last cell.
Isha had restored herself to her previous form as well, having dismissed the armour and the spear as well as shifted her body back to normal. Her presence too, was calmer and more serene once more, the warrior queen of the hunt buried by serene composure once more.
Seeing her in action had been interesting, to say the least. It was far from the full extent of what she was capable of, he was certain of that much, but even so, the power she had demonstrated would have been enough to crush even Valdor.
On the bright side, she had not taken advantage of his permission to unleash some of her power to do anything except engage in battle, which was good. Perhaps she was not as furious as he had thought, or at least not reckless enough to test him yet.
That conversation had been a mistake, in retrospect. Testing Isha's control had been necessary, but after seeing Isha's expression and sensing her rage after that daemon had called her 'mother', the Emperor knew without a doubt that comparing her to Slaanesh had been an error. Every psyker on Terra must have felt her fury in that moment before the daemon died. He should have thought of something else.
Hopefully, being allowed to create this forest and unleash some of her rage and power on those Chaos Androids had appeased Isha somewhat.
His thoughts were interrupted as Isha stood from where she had been kneeling on the ground and approached. "Everything is fine," She informed him. "The forest is intact and uncorrupted, and ready for further study whenever you wish it."
"Good,' The Emperor nodded. He briefly considered postponing the mission for the moment and returning to Bai-heng, but he decided against it. It would serve little purpose. Instead, he pulled a communicator from his pocket and prepared to call Valdor and the scientists back.
Astarte watched her subordinates work with somber eyes, their enthusiasm slowly overcoming the hesitation caused by the unexpected attack. She should have been at their side, she knew, taking notes, and working to study the forest, but…
Astarte had never known the Emperor to allow anyone who wasn't a Custodian to fight directly by his side. Not even the Thunder Warriors were allowed such a privilege. She had heard stories of Malcador doing so, in the early days of the Imperium, before she had joined, and they were most likely true, but even so, it was unnerving that the Emperor was letting an alien psyker fight by his side.
She didn't like it.
And yet, what could she do? Isha had proven her value ten times over, and Astarte had no real grounds on which to raise an objection.
Yet, she could not help but worry. If she had not ceased to believe in gods long before she had even met the Emperor, Astarte might have prayed.
As it was, she could only hope that Isha truly was as soft as she seemed.
Isha subtly stretched her muscles as she and the Emperor stepped out of the smaller vessel they had taken to and from his fortress-ship.
A large part of her longed to leap off the airship, to return to the forest and spend the night there, instead of on this cold, metal ship. But it was a childish instinct, and Isha consoled herself with the fact that she would return tomorrow. The work was hardly done, after all.
Beside her, the Emperor was silent as he watched his scientists and creations pour from the other smaller ships, drifting back to their quarters or to new duties, many of the mortals chattering excitedly.
Isha couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm she could feel radiating from them. She hoped they would be willing to talk to her properly soon. It would be good to discuss her work with people who didn't try to suppress their curiosity and interest in it like the Emperor did.
"I owe you an apology." Isha startled, shocked by the Emperor's words and, to a lesser extent, the slight veil she could feel settling around them, ensuring conversation was private.
"Your Majesty?" Isha said carefully, wondering if the Emperor meant what he thought she meant.
The Emperor sighed slightly, a noise she had never heard from him before. "As I said, I owe you an apology. I should not have compared you to Slaanesh that day. It was a step too far. I did not realize how much of an insult it was. And for that, I offer my most sincere apologies."
Isha stared at him, utterly astonished. "I...thank you." She had not expected him to speak to her like this for decades, if ever.
"I do not regret testing you, of course," The Emperor continued and Isha's shock drained away, replaced by a desire to roll her eyes. Of course you don't, she thought.
"But I believe our agreement will be best served by being...shall we say, direct with each other. We may not be able to trust each other or even be honest, but I do believe we can at least make an effort to be straightforward," The Emperor said, watching her intently.
Isha snorted slightly. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I believe I have been perfectly straightforward with you ever since we met. I am not the one who runs tests to see how you will react." If he wanted her to be straightforward, well, she would be.
The Emperor cracked a small smile at her words, the expression strange and unfamiliar so far. "True. Very well, I shall make an effort to be straightforward with you from now on, and in return, I hope you will continue your own efforts to do the same. Is that fair?"
"That is fair." Isha agreed. This was more of a step forward than she'd thought achievable at this point, but she was glad he had taken the initiative to reach out for once.
Perhaps they might be able to make this alliance work after all.
The Emperor watched Isha return to her assigned chambers aboard the Aetos Dios.
He was taking a gamble here, and no doubt Malcador would have words for him about his recklessness once when they returned to Bai-hang.
But then, his whole life had been a gamble, the Emperor thought wryly. His creators had taken a gamble, the human shamans on trusting a shard of long dead alien, and that shard in trusting a primitive race which had not even invented the wheel at the time with the legacy of its extinct race.
And the Emperor had continued to do so throughout the millennia. Gamble after gamble, choosing to believe that humanity could be better than it was, even after it failed and fell again and again. After the failure of the Terran League, the long ages of war afterwards, the rise of monsters and empires such as the Crimson Empire and the Terran Directorerate before the Federation rose and finally restored some measure of stability, if still nothing like true peace. And then, towards the end of the Golden Age, the slow failure of the Federation and the eruption of the Gene Wars as the most brilliant and vile human minds created legions of twisted monsters for their overlords...
What was choosing to believe in humanity after all that, if not a gamble?
Even recruiting Malcador amongst the darkness of the Age of Strife, choosing to believe Terra could be saved from the grasp of Chaos, creating the Primarchs...all rash, reckless things to do.
What was one more reckless gamble, after all that?
Author's Note: I confess that I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and I realize it feels a bit anti-climatic, but I had to choose between Isha super-murdering a daemon in a rage, and the Emperor showing himself to be committed to his side of the deal, and I decided the latter was more important. I hope that you all still like it, /
This is the end of Act 1 of this story, so to speak, and we'll see a timeskip in the next one.
For those of you wondering, the part about the genetic abominations created by humanity towards the end of the DAOT is from Page 8 of the 8th Edition Custodes Codex.
During the Dark Age of Technology, the human race was almost annihilated by its own hubris. Though Mankind's first steps away from its home world were faltering, natural adaptability and belligerence of spirit soon saw it flourish in the void. Science and technology advanced at a breathtaking pace, enabling the conquest of increasingly far-flung planets. The vast reaches of the galaxy shrank as Mankind's capabilities grew, and alien races were driven back into the shadows by the fierce light of human progress. Thinking machines and the development of ever more esoteric weapons and transportation technologies played their part, but the single greatest factor to drive this expansion was the ability – and the reckless will – to manipulate human genetics. Utterly certain of their own primacy, scientist-kings and techno-demagogues followed every strand of curiosity and exercised powers of creation that made them seem like gods. Ultimately, their hubris led them to catastrophe, and onwards to the very brink of extinction. Worlds were overrun by bloody uprisings within their own populations, much of which were mutated beyond sanity and recognition. Gene-wars consumed entire star systems, while a psychic apocalypse drowned the stars in fire. The vast empire of Humanity was shattered amidst horror and anarchy, and the oppressive shroud of Old Night settled over all.