Ciaphas Cain: Commissar Saint of the Imperium!
The air around me was cold and dry, my hands sore and numb as I climb the endless lines of text that seemed to span to infinity in front of me. My eyes looked up as it failed to see my end goal and yet I keep on climbing, one step at a time. My name is Ciaphas Cain, you probably know me by my previous profession as a humble Commissar in the Imperial Guard serving Him on Earth with courage and faith or by my overexaggerated title of "Hero of the Imperium" as those pencil pushers plaster images of me in posters, books, or even media to inspire the populace.
But I'm afraid that era of my life is far in the past, after serving His Majesty for over two centuries and built a mountain of lies from my fraudulent reputation I thought my service came to an end when I was finally dead, not from orks or genestealers or necrons but from blessed old age. It happened so quickly, one moment musing about what I should do the next hour and suddenly I was down on the ground clutching my chest as my breathing turned erratic and my vision blurred.
I couldn't really describe the feeling of death, a mortal mind can comprehend pain and sorrow but death felt so unreal as my conscience faded to mere single thoughts and random incoherent voices echoing in my mind. I couldn't hear properly and I couldn't think properly as everything turned into a daze. Deep down I was glad my torment was over, that finally old Cain finally kicked the bucket and was finally ready to face the Emperor's Golden Throne although another part was afraid he would judge us as the coward we are and deny us the peace we sought after.
Apparently after dying I didn't just draw the shortest stick, I drew two sticks at once with one being so short I can barely hold it and another so long it pierces the heavens. One moment I'm dead and barely conscious the next I was awoken with a burning sensation as visions flooded my mind and my soul was remade into something more than human, I always knew the Emperor had quite a humor… but I didn't think it was this bad as he thought making me serve him indefinitely was amusing enough to make me an Imperial Saint!
So that was my short story of turning from a famous Commissar with a fraudulent reputation to a SAINT famous Commissar with a fraudulent reputation, even worse he didn't even give that iconic Imperial Saint wings!
Now you might think being turned into an Imperial Saint would be something I am happy about as untold numbers of people have dreamed, fantasized or even killed to have even a single atom worth of his divine blessing bestowed upon them. I imagine several orders of Sisters of Battle are envious of my promotion, but I can say that with complete undiluted truth being turned into a Saint is a living eternal torment for me.
At the start it was fairly tolerable as I was whisked from death and plopped into a desperate battle to come and save the day in the name of the Emperor and Imperium or even run across a whole battlefield screaming and killing traitors while carrying a kid on my other hand only to return back into the warp waiting to be spat back when I was needed the most. But after a while it turned into torment real quick, especially after my first "death" from a Necron deathmark… xeno bastard got good aim and placed one good shot into the back of my head and poof I went back into the warp.
You see some think an Imperial Saint just comes back alive after being killed by a flick of their wrist or a simple though of "IN THE EMPERORS NAME I AM ALIVE!". But no, after being killed we have our own little torment to deal with first before reviving back. One example is my colleague Saint Celestine, she is by far the most famous Saint and she is quite active but every time she dies she must find back all her armor pieces from a mountain of her own corpse in the warp while trying to not go insane and fight back any warp entities that decided poking at a half-naked Imperial Saint was the best thing to do that day and even after all of that she is back again whisked onto a random important battle somewhere in the Imperium to live, fight, and die over and over and over again until she finally breaks or the Emperor is dead.
Now you might think that this wouldn't be that hard of a task for an imperial saint but no, what probably is seconds or minutes or hours maybe days of she being dead she probably spent untold time shifting through the mountain of corpses trying to piece herself together. I remember that one story she told me of when she was fighting a swarmlord and ended up being killed and then impaled by a large metal chunk that made her become stuck in a death-loop… quite an embarrassing story for an Imperial Saint.
Now you might ask what my personal version of the resurrection cycle is, is it fighting an endless horde of greenskins with nothing but a pencil or win against a daemon in a game of regicide and cards… luckily or sadly no. My torment to revive myself is to climb a large obelisk monument with the carvings of the names of people I knew and have died with in my entire life including my time during sainthood, of course the names of troopers filled the majority but not all of them.
The monument felt as if it was endless in height, the names serving as grabbing points for my arms and legs as I climb to the top. Names of troopers or civilians long dead and largely forgotten by the cruel tide of time, people I probably knew well their faces long since faded away from my memory, some names have even been eroded so much from my climb to the point it has become unreadable. As I climb, I see old names and even new names of people I interacted with in my sainthood.
Emperor give me strength for I am tired, it has been centuries and recently it has become harder and harder for me to endure. I don't know how many times I have died and I don't know how many names have been added to the monument but every time I climb this wall of text it becomes harder and harder to reach the top, I've climbed this one for months without rest and I don't even know if I'm near the top and if I fall, I need to redo it all again.
Last time I was called the Imperium was in a dire situation, two of the Emperor's sons have returned but things have gone downhill with tyranids, necrons, and chaos running amok. Every time I returned my deaths have become quicker and quicker, the scars on my body are numberless and the eyes of the guardsmen I am saving grow bleaker and hollower as the endless war finally eroded their minds.
My grip grew weaker as my vision blurred, the smooth stone texture escaping my grip as I slowly fall backwards. Maybe this is the end for old Cain, maybe it's time for me to stop caring and give up on the Imperium.
As my hand slowly slid out of a name I just reached I felt a tug as it pulled me back and made me regain my balance, after calming myself I refocused my eyes to see the name I am currently grabbing on and my heart sank.
"Amberley Vail," I whispered her name in shock.
She finally died… after centuries of duty and centuries after my death she finally died… I probably will never see her face again. Last time I heard she was too old to even walk anymore, confined to her room to deal paperwork until the Emperor called for her.
I tried to contact her, go to her one last time and see her face but I never had the chance. Every time a battle was finished I was dragged back to the warp, I sometime wished to be in a battle where she was there but that never happened.
I felt a tear ran down my cheeks as it dawned on me on why I should keep on fighting anymore. She's gone and I'm also dead, why should I waste another second of my half-dead life for the Imperium anymore. I'm dead and there probably are millions of other Commissars to fill my place. Everyone I once knew are gone now. Kasteen… Broklaw… Felicia… Jurgen… now Amberley is gone as well… why should I keep on fighting only to die again and again, and it's not like I chose this life.
As my mind slowly broke from sorrow and grief I catch small scent in the air, the usual cold odorless dry air was mixed in with a faint smell of Hegentha flowers… Amberleys favourites. She always loved them and the memory of him first meeting her flared up once more in his mind.
No. This is not the time to fall into despair. If Amberley saw me now and heard what I was thinking she would probably execute me for desertion… ironic with me being a Commissar. I tighten my hands once more as I resume my climb passing over Amberley and climbing higher and higher with renewed vigour.
More names passed me, soldiers of the 597th , people I knew in the March of the Liberator, that one guardsmen that we had to leave his body behind, Astartes of the Reclaimers Chapter and many more. It probably took a year of climbing before I reached the top. A small flat area was on the peak, as I climbed one more time to bring my body to the peak I crumpled down and breathed heavily regaining my strength once more.
Rising up I saw what awaited me, a statue of a guardsmen I once knew. My faithful aide Gunner Jurgen, although sadly his statue is rough and misshapen although recognizable enough to be a person. As he was a blank, he didn't leave any psychic residue so the universe tried its best to sculpt his features although failing to recreate him 1:1. Although I can't blame them as even I have fuzzy memories of him as I can barely recall his features.
The statue wore a Valhallan field uniform, with multiple pouches on his body and a melta and lasgun strapped ready for battle. His arms stretched out presenting me with my chainsword now with flashy warp bits that was on fire, my laspistol, and my commissar cap complete with a halo signifying my sainthood.
I thank Jurgen for faithfully waiting for me even in death, I grabbed my gear and don my cap as a rift started to form in the middle of the place. It's another warp tear to a battlefield and now I must go on again to do my duty. Walking to it I raised my hand and touched it, my body slowly radiating a glow of golden warmth as I heard a voice from behind.
I turn my back as my vision was slowly being enveloped by light and I saw them.
Near endless sea of people waving me off as they cried and jumped in joy, in front were the troopers of the 597th giving me a salute as Kasteen and Broklaw cheered for me. A blank position was next to them, a void that cannot be filled by someone who have long since perished and disappeared from reality and in the very front was her.
Her smile was beautiful as always, her hair was all greyed out due to age as she leaned on a walking stick but as the light enveloped my vision, I saw her as I did the first time I met her at Gravalax. Beautiful and charming… she was always my love at first sight.
"Back to the fray eh?" I exclaimed to myself hands equipped with my chainsword and laspistol.
-
Tallarn, Segmentum Tempestus, Date Unknown
The sky was chalk full of Traitor vessels, Tallarn was besieged and hope was flickering. The world was holding albeit barely as more Iron Warriors dropped from the sky and daemons run and danced on the hot sand.
The traitor's hand was on the cusp of victory as one of the frontline defenses was slowly crumbling. In the trenches guardsmen desperately tried to push back the traitorous horde as they kept on battering the lines with traitors and daemons.
It soon started to fall apart as soldiers finally broke and started to rout, even the presence of Space Marines from the Reclaimers Chapter didn't help the situation as daemon and daemon engines broke through the heavily battered fortifications.
Reinforcements from the Valhallan 597th was flooding in trying to plug the breach but the incoming rush of Traitor Marines slowly hacked through the lines of men and women desperately trying to man the abandoned guns.
Hamir a bog standard recently drafted Tallarn was shaking for his life, his legs gave up on him as more of his comrades tried to flee as even the Commissars shouting was drowned out by the shrieking daemons. He gripped his lasgun tightly as he tried to force himself to stand only to fail and fall on his rear, he cried and begged for the Emperor and the Prophet Cain to help him in this time of need.
He crawled and grabbed a tin can that was lying on the sandy floor and dusted it off, filling it with lukewarm water and dropping some Tanna leaves as he mixes them and raises it to the sky screaming for help. He begged for help just like he did when he was a small boy, who was lost in a battlefield and was rescued by the Emperor's holy Angel himself.
And help did come. The sky split and a golden ray fell from the heavens, dropping down from the sky came Saint Ciaphas Cain. He smiled at Hamir and grabbed the can taking a good whiff before downing it all down.
Nearby broken and demoralized troops stopped in their tracks as they turned and saw the Saint standing proud and fearlessly in the battlefield. The momentary silence from his arrival was broken by a squad of traitors charging with their bayonets, only to be shot perfectly on the head in a matter of seconds. The soldiers regained their minds and steeled themselves cheering for the Saint, more foes fall onto the Commissar. Daemons and Traitor marines sliced by the holy chainsword in his arms.
More soldiers cheered as morale was restored, soon more soldiers arrived to halt the traitors salient. The battle was turning against the traitors as balance was slowly being restored, and with that the enemy failed to capitalize on the breach and the defensive lines held for another day.
The air was filled with euphoria as both soldiers laughed and screamed to the sky the song that was passed down from generations to generations after.
CI- CI- CIAPHAS CAIN SAINT HERO OF TH M!
"Frak me," Said Ciaphas Cain silently as he saw the spectacle unfolding in front of him.
Story inspired by comment from The-Cannibal-Hermit from Reddit post:
r/ImaginaryW...=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Taking inspiration from:
The Annals of St Ciaphas - beautifultoastdream
The Roboutian Heresy - Zahariel
Behemoth 3 Extras - Eliphas
Heroes of the 41st Millennium – Bruva Alfabusa
P.S: I'm not good at making stories, sometimes plots flare up in my mind and hundreds of scenes unfold and are thought upon but I am always unable to coherently piece them into a good story be it because of grammar or story structure. If anyone want to make their own version that is better go ahead. If there are any inconsistencies or things that offend you I am sorry, I am a fan of w40k but a casual one not a diehard so I'm not too knowledgeable of the lore.
Have a nice day and have faith in the Emperor 😊
Or else 🔫