Elsewhere:
"Ah!" the teenage girl squeaked as she bolted to wakefulness after another vivid dream. She was shivering, and she had discovered that she was covered in sweat. The youngest granddaughter and newest official acolyte of the infamous Verpestyn family had woken up in the middle of the night again. She had been having strange dreams lately, and this both excited her and frightened her. Could the Patriarch sense her dreams, she wondered with worry.
Varona Verpestyn, great-granddaughter of the infamous Verpestyn Patriarch, Frollo, was fifteen years old, and this was her first assignment with her family of witch hunters aboard the Inevitable Wisdom. A mere month ago, she had been named an official Inquisitorial Acolyte after a short ceremony aboard the ship. As expected, her parents proclaimed her to be an adult after the ceremony, and she was immediately assigned a small private bunk in an undesirable area close to where the workers, ratings, and indentured servants lived their small lives. New acolytes were typically given these lesser rooms in order to build "character," as the Patriarch liked to say.
A groan reverberated through the metal interior of the ship. Varona could hear people talking nearby, their voices echo-y and reverberant through the metal mazes of the void ship. This area was really loud and spooky, she thought with a sigh. Her room was only a deck removed from the lower decks! That didn't help her keep calm about her situation. Maybe all these weird noises were why she kept having these crazy dreams. It wasn't because she was a latent psyker at all, no.
No...
In the last few months, Varona had begun to have strange dreams about a gold eagle soaring through the sky. For multiple nights in a row, the girl saw the majestic beast in her sleep as it screamed through her dreams. After losing considerable sleep, she confessed to Uncle Yuri, one of the Inevitable Wisdom's astropaths and her favorite uncle, that her dreams were disturbing her. Hearing this, Yuri had rushed her into his quarters. He then scolded her in a frantic hushed voice to never speak of such things. Varona had been admittedly ignorant about how people with psyker powers were made, and Uncle Yuri quietly informed her that she might be developing into one, which scared her. A lot of the psykers on the ship were blind like Yuri, or even more messed up and crazy! Her uncle, sensing that she was upset, reassured her that everything would be okay. He then quietly forbade her to speak of these topics until he could find an appropriate moment when the Patriarch was in a good enough mood to deal with this news. Grandfather Frollo would have to be told, but catching that man in a bad mood was... not a good idea.
Soon afterward, their ship had stopped to visit a "Deathwatch Fortress," or whatever those big floating station things were. Varona was instructed to stay aboard, so she decided to visit Uncle Yuri again for reassurance. She discovered that her uncle's room was in the process of being ransacked by two stone-faced Inquisitors that the girl knew as a joyless married couple on another deck. These were both older, senior operatives who often took orders directly from the Patriarch. When Varona had stopped to stare at the scene, she was shooed away and told to "mind her business" by the wife. The door to her uncle's quarters was then slammed in her face. Later, when she had asked about what happened to Uncle Yuri at dinner, one of her cousins ominously replied that he didn't exist anymore, whatever that meant. This upset Varona so much that she almost started to cry.
Perturbed, Varona had taken the rest of her dinner to eat alone in her spartan quarters. Afterward, she decided to have a walk to clear her mind before sleep. On her walk, she overheard that they were already finished at the Deathwatch place, and that they'd be headed back to Rhadabus. When the girl arrived back at her quarters, she immediately began to shake and cry, confused and overwhelmed. To calm herself, Varona drank part of her hidden bottle of amasec that Uncle Yuri had given her, and eventually, she passed out.
Of course, she dreamed vivid dreams. The eagle soared through a changing sky of hellfire; on its back was a white woman, and her name was "Retribution." Varona saw planets bow and nations crumble before the woman, and four distinct evil faces cheered and laughed behind her. One particular leering face then turned to face Varona and somehow, she sensed that this evil face could actually see her! The malevolent face-thing smiled in her direction as it reached out with multitudinous arms and appendages to grab at her! This was when Varona had woken up. Her newest dream had especially frightened her, and the girl continued to shiver in her bed, afraid. Where was Uncle Yuri when she needed him? Maybe... maybe she had been dreaming that he didn't exist anymore, and she was getting confused. Maybe she was just nervous and stressed. Inquisitors needed to be strong, like the Patriarch, and not cry like a childish little girl in her bunk because of a nasty dream.
Varona reached under her bunk again to retrieve the amasec that Uncle Yuri had given her, but then, she heard a faint voice in the dark.
"Varona..." the voice whispered. It sounded like a lot of whispers talking together.
"Hel-hello?" the girl responded in a whisper.
There was a tap against her door.
"Varona, I'm here. Did you need to talk to me?" the voice said as it changed to Uncle Yuri's, and the girl sighed in great relief.
"Oh, Uncle Yuri," she breathed happily. "I'll be right out!"
Remember to keep your voice low, child. We don't want the rest of the family intruding on our meeting.
"Okay," Varona instantly responded as pulled on her boots. Wait. Did she actually audibly hear Uncle Yuri, or did she hear him in her head? The girl knew that psykers could talk this way, and this thought made her worry again. But, Yuri always knew what to do. He was smart and kind, and she trusted him, unlike most of the people in her family. Um, can you hear me? the girl tried to ask her Uncle with her thoughts.
Varona felt the presence smile. She very briefly spied a pair of yellow-gold gold eyes watching her like a hungry predator before Yuri's face configured itself in her mind. Yes, I can. You're growing more powerful, my dear. I am ever so proud of you. So filled with hope and promise! I've decided to help you.
That sounded a little weird, but it felt nice to get a compliment for once, so the girl let it go and walked to the door. Opening it, she discovered that no one was there. What? It had sounded like Yuri was right here...
Look to the right. Behold my servant, my dear, her uncle instructed. Huh? What servant? The girl peered out from her open door, and into the long metal hall outside her quarters. Just then, she saw a miraculous sight. Perched on a small crate resting against the wall, a tiny blue bird was singing a sweet song. The bird stopped its cheeping and turned toward Varona. Somehow, she was able to sense that the little creature was smiling at her. Remember that we must be discreet in our meetings. Follow the bird to our new secret meeting place. There, I shall instruct you.
Okay! the girl responded with relief. In her mind, she found that she knew exactly where to go, which was somewhere near the ship's engines on the lower decks. This briefly frightened her, but she assured herself that Yuri would never lead her astray.
Over the next hour, Varona was led down winding corridors past barriers that could only be opened by a passkey by the smiling blue bird. The girl somehow knew each and every code to pass by each barrier, and that made her smile. Maybe being a psyker wasn't a bad thing, she wondered. Why did her family tamp down on magic powers so hard? It was actually pretty neat to have superpowers.
The teenage girl was directed to hide by Yuri when she was somewhat near the engines. In a disused closet, she overheard a group of Inquisitors talking as they aggressively passed down the hall. The girl learned that due to their overtaxing of their crew, their "Gellar Field", whatever that was, had "flickered." The Patriarch was furious, but they were still at Warp, refusing to translate back out to real reality in their rush to get to Rhadabus. These Inquisitors (which, incidentally, were her cousins) sounded worried, but for the most part, they hadn't found any trouble.
You're right, Varona, Yuri reassured her in her head. The bird fluttered before her in the dark closet, strangely luminescent. You're almost here. I can't wait to show you everything...
Something sounded a little weird in Yuri's tone, but Varona dismissed this feeling. She needed to be less childish and jumpy to be an adult. She was fifteen now, so she couldn't continue being a scared little girl all the time. If she was a psyker, she needed to deal with it. Maybe they would even start putting her on missions to use her powers against daemons, the girl wondered with excitement.
The blue bird smiled at her. How could a bird smile like that? She would have to ask Yuri how he made this little messenger later.
After passing a few secure areas (and shutting the one directly behind her under instruction from Yuri) Varona now stood before an especially armored and important-looking door that led to some kind of control room near the engines. It was very secure. Yuri had picked a very secret hiding spot, and she intuitively knew that her goal was behind that door! But, how could she get through? It was huge and locked with strange glowing marks and heavy bolts! A keypad glowed to the right of the giant closed entryway.
I'll take care of that, my dear, Yuri's voice responded to her worries. The bird vanished in a puff of blue smoke. Just then, a young voidsman wearing a formal officer's uniform appeared from the hallway that Varona had come from, startling her. Where had this guy come from? The girl had thought that she had closed the door behind her! Oh no, she would be in trouble for sure for being out like this!
"Worry not, Varona," the man said as he casually brushed by her, touching her arm in a friendly manner. Walking further, he then turned around to smile in her direction as he approached the door. "You're almost there!"
"What?" the girl startled. The stranger was now standing before the locked entryway. He turned around and smiled at her. The stranger was a young guy, and he was tall and thin with tousled white-blond hair that seemed to move in an invisible wind. His eyes were a penetrating yellow-gold that seemed to sparkle with intelligence and mischief. And, he was super handsome, Varona observed with a shy blush.
"I'm a friend of Yuri's, my dear," the handsome man said to the girl as if he knew her thoughts. "You've caught the eye of the right people, and now, you're at the cusp of greatness. Oh, the hope in your soul, the magic!" The man grinned as he touched her shoulder again.
Varona then beheld a vision of herself leading her fellow Inquisitors into battle against masses of deformed heretics, lightning cascading down from her hands to blast away the bad guys!
"You see the future," the man said. "And I'm here to help you with your destiny. Yuri is behind that door, but unfortunately, this gateway holds a sturdier lock. It is necessary since this is a secure area of your ship. The intention is to keep monsters out."
Varona looked at the secure door. "But, how do I get past it?"
Deep inside her being, the girl then sensed some kind of unusual anxious feeling. It felt like she was being called by someone down a long hall, and that person was desperately trying to get her attention.
Varona! Don't listen to him! Yuri's voice cried out from a great distance. He's lying!
The handsome man narrowed his eyes at her and smiled again. When he spoke again, it was in a conspiratorial whisper. "Since I can tell that you're strong, I'll give you a little hint here. Yuri is testing you. You have to really want power in order to use it. You have to have ambition. Do you have the strength to follow your dreams?"
Varona, no! He's not a friend! That man is a d-
With a snap of the stranger's fingers, the voice blessedly cut off. Reality flickered, and Varona suddenly realized that she was holding a knife in her right hand, and an Inquisitorial rosette in her left. Both were covered in some sticky warm red liquid that smelled like copper. What was going on? She was very disoriented. She shouldn't have been drinking earlier.
Before she could think further, Varona found herself stepping forward toward the heavy secure door. Her hand remained clenched around both the knife and the rosette. Distantly, she could tell that people were banging on the door behind her, demanding to be let in. When had she shut the door? She realized she couldn't remember, and the strange man smiled. He gestured ahead. "Place the rosette on this door, and implement the following code on the keypad. Yuri made it easy for you to unlock, so it's all a bunch of nines. Nine of them, to be precise!"
"Oh," Varona replied. People were still banging on the door behind her.
A call of "Call the Patriarch!" was heard. The girl knew this was all a test, though. She had to be strong and not be afraid of dumb childish things anymore.
Reality skipped a beat, and she had somehow placed the rosette on the secured gateway and entered the code "999999999" into the glowing keypad without dropping either her knife or the rosette. Where had these items even come from, she wondered. Yuri would explain, of course!
Varona walked forward through the open door. Before her lay a strange wide console filled with confusing dials, knobs, and blinking lights. Wide displays highlighting different areas of the ship in holographic light were visible above this console, which was about three meters long. Four different colored levers labeled "Impulse" were visible on the far left side of the console, and on the far right, a dangerous red button labeled "G-Field Emerg Stop" seemed to smile at her like how the blue bird somehow did. This button was under some kind of shimmering red energy field.
Where was Yuri, though? The strange voidsman appeared beside her. "He's close, my dear," he said, his voice like syrup in both her ears and mind. "One more thing, and your test is almost done."
Varona found herself drawn to the big red button before the man told her to stop with an amused laugh that chilled her soul to hear. "No, no. As much fun as that would be, we're doing something else tonight, my dear. Go to the leftmost lever. Wrap your hand around it, and pull. Pull it until the lever breaks off!"
"That sounds dangerous," Varona said dreamily.
"Of course it is, but you want to see your dear old uncle again, don't you? As a psyker, you'll face many tests of your intuition going forward. This ship has many secrets, and soon, you'll have everything revealed to you! The primordial truth of existence!"
Behind her, Varona could hear shouting and banging. Men were crying out. That was probably just an illusion, she thought as she dropped the rosette and the knife. Her hands were both all red and wet and dirty. She wrapped them around the leftmost lever, which was very solidly fastened to the console. "I'm not that strong! How can I pull?"
"I've been breaking barriers for a long time, so I can give you a little boost," the man said with a dark, knowing smile. "Simply pull! You're stronger than you think!" The strange man then touched the girl's shoulder, and a strange rushing power rushed through her blood like electricity. More visions assailed her mind, and she saw herself being coronated as a beautiful princess in a pleasure world! The girl watched as she charted the stars, and entertained high society parties on Holy Terra! She saw herself being gifted with the title of "Hero of the Imperium!" Varona giddily gripped the leftmost lever, but, despite these visions of hope and wonder, there was... there was something really wrong here. The girl listened to the Inquisitors desperately trying to breach the locked door. What... what was she doing? Was that blood on her hands? Varona, now unsure and scared, tried to release her grip on the lever...
Only to realize, way too late, that she wasn't actually in control of her own body anymore. Scales and fur began to wildly grow across her body originating from the point where the stranger had touched her shoulder. The stranger laughed triumphantly beside Verona as she (or at least the presence inside of her) pulled with all her might, and she was rewarded with the sound of groaning metal. Energy raced from Varona into the console as she pulled, scorching delicate electronics. A small fire began blossomed into existence as she finally pulled the lever free from the console with an inhuman amount of strength. Sparks cackled like the daemonic laughter issuing from Varona's throat.
At the same time, the Inquisitors finally breached the outer door, and rushed ahead, their firearms aimed in her direction.
The daemon inside the rapidly mutating girl had time to shout, "Glory to the Lord of Change!" in a roaring mad voice before an explosive shell struck her head, killing her instantly. Before she could even appreciate what had happened, her soul was torn from her body and devoured by the Warp.
An ominous rumbling noise crawled beneath the frantic Inquisitors as they rushed to the emergency control override console.
"Primary left engine control crippled!" a man shouted. "Tell them to drop out of Warp, now!"
Elsewhere:
"No! Varona!" the astropath abruptly shouted into consciousness beside the Count of Saint Germain in the medical bay of the Tempus Infinitum. The Inquisitor Lord stepped back, knowing that traumatized psykers can potentially pose unique dangers. He summoned his power into existence in a protective barrier as the confused man struggled into wakefulness and sanity on his sickbed.
The psyker, blessedly, did not lash out and seemed to calm down after a few moments. He breathed deeply and began to grip the white sheets that covered him. Tears began to flow out of his blind grey eyes, and he winced in sorrow or pain. "The Inevitable Wisdom. It's been crippled. Controls to engines, crippled," the poor astropath mumbled to no one. He then turned toward Saint Germain, who had a faint Sight-halo surrounding his body. "Who... who are you?" he said, his eyes unfocused.
"Lord Inquisitor Saint Germain of Ordo Chronos, at your service," Saint Germain offered with a slight bow. "I rescued you a few days ago from your ordeal with the Verpestyn Patriarch, Lord Frollo Verpestyn. You are aboard the Tempus Infinitum, which is under my command. We left Watch Fortress Pykman yesterday; we are on our way to our next assignment. You've been unconscious for a while; I just stopped by to see how you are doing. What is your name, lad?"
"I'm... I'm Yuri Verpestyn. And, I..." he sputtered sadly, closing his blind eyes and leaning back against his pillow. Yuri had bronzed skin that possessed a pallor of sickness. His messy short hair was partially stuck to his head with sweat, which beaded across his brow and bare shoulders. "Yes. I remember now. They were torturing me. Torture. The Patriarch was there. Dolorez too. Not a dream. D-did that all happen?" the astropath asked Saint Germain.
"I'm afraid so, Yuri," Saint Germain said with a regretful sigh, dropping his protective shield. "You're lucky I happened by the Watch Fortress, lad. Old Frollo was going to burn both your physical form and your soul to extract what he wanted." The Inquisitor Lord tried to be friendly and disarming. "Care for a cup of tea? Recaf? Amasec? The doc stepped out for a minute, but he'll be back soon, so we might as well have fun while we can."
Yuri blindly stared into nowhere as he lay back and continued to weep. The poor man had suffered numerous injuries, some of which needed surgical intervention to repair. Frollo had bruised one of Yuri's lungs, and many serious burns and lacerations on the astropath's torso. Luckily, Doc Arlow was able to patch the unfortunate psyker up. The doc was on a short break while Saint Germain had thoroughly examined the astropath's soul for Chaotic taint. With Sight, the Count had studied the young astropath's essence. Aside from being tortured, Yuri's soul appeared very clean, which demonstrated that he was of a good moral character. During his examination, the flickering image of a blazing gold eagle and a gold woman flashed in his mind's eye. It seemed that Frollo had been correct in his assessment. It appeared in this examination that Yuri's soul had been directly impressed by a powerful user of Sight, and there weren't many of those running around the galaxy, at least to the Count's knowledge.
Yuri here had experienced contact with this powerful golden soul, who seemed to have also given him a good (but crude) throttling in an effort to keep her presence a secret. After the poor psyker had adequately convalesced, Saint Germain would have to pick up where Frollo had left off in deciphering the confrontation locked in Yuri's mind, but in a gentler fashion.
"So," Saint Germain began, walking to a nearby rolling table. He placed his cane against the wall while making sure that the psyker could see it. The Count took two white paper cups from the table and filled them from a flask of amasec from his coat pocket. Despite Yuri not asking for anything, anyone who had gone through a torture session with the head of the Verpestyn family needed a stiff drink or ten afterward. The Count walked forward and offered Yuri one of the cups filled with liquor.
Yuri paused and didn't immediately take the proffered cup in Saint Germain's hand. While the astropath was physically blind, he saw the world in a detailed mental portrait. The Count felt the young psyker investigate the cup for poison. He was still afraid.
"Why would I want to hurt you after going through all the trouble of rescuing you from the Verpestyns?" Saint Germain laughed warmly. "It's just amasec, lad. I myself need to drink it after being in the mere presence of that guy."
The astropath finally took the drink and sat up in bed. From here, the Count saw numerous bandages covering Yuri's chest, and he appeared to be in pain. After a moment, he drank the entire thing in two gulps. "You're really Ordo Chronos?" he asked in a quiet voice. "I've never seen one of you. No one has!"
"Yes. As I said, I'm Lord Inquisitor Saint Germain of Chronos, and you're aboard my Tempus Infinitum. We're less brutish and conspicuous than Malleus, you know. I like to think we're more refined." The Count smoothed his fine black and gold coat.
"Oh," Yuri breathed, blearily nodding his head. Tears continued to quietly fall from his eyes.
"Later, when you're healed up, I'd like to interview you on a few topics. No torture or anything, I promise. Oh, and you've been officially drafted. You have been scoured from official Imperial records, and now, I've taken the liberty of welcoming you into our ranks. Welcome to Ordo Chronos, Yuri!"
After a pause, the astropath quietly said, "I had a vision. The Inevitable Wisdom, the Verpestyn ship. It's crippled and it's in the Warp. A... a daemon possessed-" the young man winced. Saint Germain quickly poured him another cup of amasec, which was readily drunk. "A daemon possessed my niece. She's dead now."
"Are the other Verpestyns dead?" Saint Germain asked as he poured himself another drink, his heart full of secret hope.
Yuri shook his head. "No, they're alive; their ship is just damaged. From what I saw, the controls to one of their primary engines was-" the psyker closed his eyes, and began to weep anew. "Anyway, doesn't matter. Ship's crippled and Varona's gone. That kind of damage will take it out of commission for weeks, and I don't even know if they can translate back to realspace. My sweet niece Varona. She's gone. I tried to reach her. I tried to protect her. But..."
"I'm sorry," Saint Germain said, sipping his amasec. "We have a chapel on board if you'd like to have a visit when you're healed up. You're safe here now."
The door to the medical bay opened, and there, Doctor Arlow appeared dressed in a long white hooded coat with a red trim around its seams. Arlow was a man who was approximately one-third machine that had been drafted as a "rejected" Tech-priest of Mars. Arlow, from what Saint Germain had understood, loved humanity too much and had too big of a heart to worship the machine as was desired of him, despite his considerable alterations. He was a man whose chest, spine, and left arm were all shiny metal. Only two thin mechadendrites sprung from his shoulders, each perfectly designed for holding surgical tools. His face still retained most of his human facial features, even if they were beginning to become uncanny in his age as he replaced his aging skin with a synthetic analog. He still retained his kind green eyes, and with the red trim of his robe, they made him appear quite striking.
"Is he lucid?" Doctor Arlow asked Saint Germain who nodded. Arlow's voice was low and gentle, specifically designed for soothing patients.
"I am not lost to madness. I grieve the loss of a loved one and a lost life," Yuri responded in a low exhausted voice.
"I'm going to need to do a conscious exam and ask the patient a few questions. I assume his, er, earlier exam went well?" The doctor asked in a curious voice, referring to the exam for Chaotic taint.
"Everything is fine. I now consider him an adept of Chronos, so treat him as such. Please give me an update when you're finished," Saint Germain informed the doctor before standing up, ready to take his leave. The Count retrieved his cane, and as expected, Yuri's blind eyes immediately turned to observe it. He turned toward the psyker. "Yuri, you're safe here, I promise you. I'll be back later after I get the good doctor's report on your health. Rest now."
Yuri said nothing and simply closed his eyes. He continued to weep silently. The loss of a close family member right around being tortured with fire by a sadist probably frayed this man's soul. Saint Germain made a mental note to keep an eye on the young astropath. Frayed souls often held injuries that could invite madness or dark spirits. Maybe a welcome dinner later would be good?
Saint Germain left the infirmary and began walking down the dark interior of his vessel toward his suite. He needed to brush up on his knowledge of Inheritors, their natures, and the influence of the Divine Intervention. They had a fair amount of time before Molech, so it would be smart to spend some time in his study getting reacquainted with these enigmatic, brutal beings that had found themselves thrust into becoming half-mad demigods for humankind. Saint Germain had always secretly thought that the more favorable position was actually to be one of the two co-navigators and not the direct position of Inheritor. From what the Count remembered, the influence of the Great Eagle primarily concerned itself with reconfiguring the soul assigned to the center throne. While the two copilots would gain great power, they wouldn't experience the full metaphysical assault of the Great Eagle's influence. Essentially, you could gain strength while keeping your mind intact as a copilot, which was much better than sliding into becoming whatever eldritch creature Sebastian became later after his discorporation.
Saint Germain whistled a short tune as he walked, still just so thrilled that the galaxy might have another chance under another Inheritor. There was truly no better unifying force of humanity than the Divine Intervention in capable human hands, and he prayed that things would work out this time. If this mystery woman needed a copilot, he intended to offer himself once again for that service.
As the Count walked, he spied a small piece of paper lying face down in his path. People really need to be more attentive in their tidying of the ship, he grumbled. Saint Germain paused his walk and his whistling before bending down to pick up the discarded trash. Curious, he turned it around. He then became greatly concerned when he saw what was written on the paper.
The note was scrawled in rough ink as if someone was shaking when they penned it. A strange feeling of unease passed through the Count as he read the words.
"Word Bear, you now have time for that 'special project' you've been thinking about. They won't be at your location for a while. For this, I'll require a special thank you later."
This made absolutely no sense, and Saint Germain involuntarily shuddered when he detected Chaotic taint on this note. Reflexively, he burned it to ashes with a flash of gold fire.
"Shit," the Count whispered, realizing that someone on the Tempus Infinitum was experiencing some form of Chaotic corruption. "I suppose we were due for a ship-wide spiritual audit anyway." Saint Germain then turned around and began to walk to the bridge, his jaw clenched with anxiety at the monumental task now before him.
Elsewhere:
"Bring two more in from the hold! Immediately! Make sure they're youthful and strong. No time to sedate them! Their fear will offer an excellent flavor to their souls," Word Bear quickly ordered Brother Amadael as he read the words that had appeared within the miraculous Wizard of Molech tome. What wonderful news! The sorcerer smiled widely. They had enough time now for their special project! This made Word Bear very happy. He quickly closed the book and placed it beneath the bleeding sacrifice so that the hungry artifact could gorge itself further.
"What of the ritual offerings to the other powers, Cardinal?" Amadael asked with concern, his red eyes flashing with worry. Amadael was still wearing his white and gold power armor, his helmet held in his left hand.
"We'll do it later. We have just received a message from fate itself that we have been divinely blessed for our project with the Blanks! You can spread the word of this, and later, I wish to hold an official meeting with the rest of us when we're all aboard again."
Amadael immediately smiled, the sharp yellow teeth of his mouth splitting his entire face in a lurid red gash. "Glorious news, White Cardinal! I shall bring the souls to you post haste!" The monstrous marine left the sacred chamber, a happy skip in his step.
Word Bear smiled, and after he was satisfied that the artifact was fed, he pushed the freshly sacrificed body of an old man off the sacred book, which lay atop a marble altar beside a bloody dagger. Both the altar and the sacred book were now covered in bright red blood, which made him smile. What a splendid end to a lovely day!
The prodigal grandson of Kor Phaeron was currently attending to his daily offerings aboard the Malicious Compliance, which was in distant orbit around Rhadabus, well clear of the planet's rings. Recently, he and his Brothers had taken over and reconsecrated a well-appointed chapel here that had been previously devoted to the Corpse Emperor. Murals and illuminated stained glass windows depicting the Emperor's glory had been destroyed, and symbols of the Four Powers had been painted over their remains in various bodily fluids. This was a little messy, but they didn't have the time nor the skilled slave labor to make nice new devotional art at the present. Sure, they had the imprisoned population of this ship secured in the lower decks, but most of them were unskilled and combative due to their current situation. At least the prisoners were still perfect for feeding thirsty gods and hungry books. Word Bear lovingly traced a black tentacle finger across the holy book's blood-soaked cover. He then brought the appendage to his mouth, and with a lick, happily savored the taste of power.
The last few days had been busy. He and the rest of his Brothers (who were calling themselves the Sons of Retribution to the mortals) had readily engaged in the blessed work of spreading the good news of their new lord and savior, the God-Empress of Mankind, the Dark Queen of Heaven. This glorious activity felt beautifully instinctual to the Word Bearers, almost as if it was programmed within their very souls. One Brother joked that they were setting up another Monarchia with a quiet giggle, the dark joke being that this world would probably end up razed and destroyed soon for its faith. It all had a good purpose, though. If this went well, the souls of Rhadabus would be used to empower their young god as a lovely gift of fealty.
One issue remained, however. The Word Bearers were unsure that their new deity would be able to receive these sacrifices from such a far distance. According to their holy book, their Dark Queen was not consciously sensing the prayers of the Rhadabans with regularity. If all these people were killed, would their souls even reach their new figurehead? She needed to be stronger for this. She needed more souls, but she needed to be close enough to consume them. On top of all this, their Dark Queen was still a spiritual child, and she seemed to hate Chaos, even though it was the absolute Primordial Truth of the universe, at least in this reality. This was certainly not ideal. The Word Bearers really needed her to change her attitude if she was going to be their chosen divine figure, or else they'd end up with another paradoxical maniac in giant gold armor running around the galaxy telling lies. Word Bear had pondered this problem, and prayed to the Four Powers on it, hoping that a solution would present itself.
The next day, while exploring their stolen vessel, a Blank was discovered working on the lower decks in a lonely position. Brother Amadael had mentioned offhand that they could use the blood and organs of this nasty fellow for anti-psyker practices. Word Bear was told that the physical components of Blanks could even be used against the most powerful of psykers, even ones of Alpha rank and above. They were used this way in the Imperium to capture and subdue powerful individuals.
This gave Word Bear an idea. Their Dark Queen was presently a mere child in spirit and experience. And, children needed to be guided with a just and heavy hand so that they would develop into reasonable adults, even if they were unwilling. Maybe the Word Bearers could play the role of these helpful guides. Of course, she would never approve of what they were considering, but she really wouldn't have a choice if suitably restrained in a helpful manner. And, the only way to restrain such a creature at the present was through special bindings and the blessings of the Four Powers, who smiled at Word Bear's plans in his dreams. They even knew where she was at all times thanks to the sacred book! Yes, she was very far away at the present, but he needed to trust in the will of the gods! Maybe the currents of the Warp would bend in their favor, or another Warp gate would present itself for their use. While they couldn't take a whole planet full of people to her, they could certainly take a fair amount of appropriately-aligned sacrificial lambs to her on this merchant ship!
Their plan crystallized. They would find her, bind her, and bring her this energy! Once firmly restrained, she could be force-fed powerful souls devoted to Primordial Truth! She would become stronger, and then, she'd be able to hear the glorious screams of entire planets in her honor from across the galaxy! Hopefully, she wouldn't be too upset with them after this righteous act of faith, but true gods have divine wisdom, so she would certainly understand that their motives were pure, Word Bear told himself. Yes, they would do this!
"Just as a stubborn child needs to be forced to eat her vegetables to grow strong, she will need to be fed suitable souls! When she is grown, she will be our light! No more false promises from the Black Legion and their foolish leaders!" Brother Aszi Thruss had laughed after hearing the plan, his teeth chattering in excitement, his mind filled with hopeful dreams of a bright future. "I want to witness her rip the Despoiler's head off by his ridiculous hair like in my dream. I want to see the Dark Queen at the head of all legions, reborn and reunited under glory! A new divinely ordained Warmaster! Another great crusade! All wrongs made right!"
And so, a new plot began to percolate in the happy souls of the Word Bearers. The population of Rhadabus, during its restructuring and spiritual education, was hastily scoured for Blanks. They had only found two so far on the planet along with the one on the ship, but they would continue their search.
As they searched, the Chaos Marines then began to grow concerned about the Inevitable Wisdom's eventual arrival. The Inquisitorial Cruiser carrying the Ordo Malleus-affiliated Verpestyn family had just left Fort Pykman bound for Rhadabus. Depending on Warp currents, they could be here within weeks (or less!) and spoil everyone's fun. However, the sacred holy book had just informed Word Bear that the Lord of Change had just intervened on their behalf by crippling their vessel and slowing them down! Joyous news!
The sound of blood dripping into a floor grate echoed pleasantly in the desecrated chapel. Word Bear then turned to an especially mutated individual in tenebrous black power armor who lurked in the corner of the chapel, silently watching the scene.
"Brother Gash," Word Bear began, bowing graciously. "Could you kindly check on the Blanks down in special segregation suite five if you can handle it? Give me a report on how they are faring. If they're hungry, bring them food. If they're horny, bring them women. Whatever they want. Just keep them placated. We need them in good health for their future purposes."
Brother Gash had the fortune or misfortune of being particularly "blessed" by the gods with many overt and disfiguring mutations. He was deformed enough that it was decided that he would stay aboard the Malicious Compliance so he wouldn't frighten the Rhadabans with his appearance, which could not be concealed. He was bald, and his exposed skin appeared charred as if burnt to a crisp. Faintly glowing red runes that communicated the glory of divinity were painted across his approximation of flesh. Gash's eyes were black pools of ink that beheld tiny pinpricks of starlight blazing with an inhuman glow. In low light, his luminous red facial runes and his unreal eyes made him look like some kind of undead monster or a daemon.
Beneath his armor, Gash was covered with small festering open sores that bled continuously and profusely. This caused him to emit an unsettling odor at times as blood and other fluids seeped from the joints of his armor. "Luckily," this Brother was now in the process of merging his flesh with his armor, which would be better for his comfort in the long run. His armor, while painted red years ago, had darkened completely with the same power that had blackened his skin. Crisscrossed tendrils of divine corruption roped across Gash's breastplate, reminding Word Bear of muscle striations. The Dark Gods had made Brother Gash an artful canvas for their lurid expression, but he was at least humanoid in form at the present.
"How many Blanks?" Gash croaked, stepping out from a languid, almost animate shadow. "Have we found more?" he asked, his voice a dying whisper.
"Only three men so far. Two are Rhadabans and that one unpleasant fellow we found working around the engines. We're still actively scouring the population on the planet for more of these soulless shadows for our use. I'd ask Claudine, but my new little pet is busy learning about the Primordial Truth with Veeya."
Gash smiled. His teeth, despite his considerably warped appearance, were perfectly white and straight. "I obey, White Cardinal," he croaked.
Word Bear watched Brother Gash depart through the door at the end of the converted chapel. For a short time, he again listened to the pleasant trickling sound of hot blood falling through a drainage grate on the floor. "White Cardinal," the sorcerer purred happily, relishing the taste of his new title like a dark savory wine. "Dear stubborn Grandfather walks the wrong path. I shall show the old fool just how wrong he is when I walk at the head of legions as a chosen confidant of the True God from Heaven." Word Bear reached forward and gently retrieved The Wizard of Molech book from the altar. He marveled at the shrinking pool of blood on the book's cover as it was greedily drunk by the interdimensional artifact. "In this moment, I am euphoric. I hold a book that dictates the passage of fate. I am blessed. By the Four Powers and Dark Queen..."
Word Bear paused and considered something. He then nodded, curling his tentacle fingers in a gentle caress upon the sacred book's blue spine. "By the Five Powers, I will succeed."