"You come into my shrine, uninvited, human."
"Well, excuuuse me for trying to help defend this Craftworld from other humans, mister disembodied voice." Satoru pushed himself up onto his feet and realized that... well... he couldn't see anything, really. All around him was pitch darkness – the blackest darkness he'd ever seen, not even a single mote of light. And yet, it wasn't cold. It was, in fact, rather hot, like standing in the Sahara in high noon. And then he heard it, a low rumbling noise that came from... well... everywhere, like distant drums or chants; he wasn't sure. Satoru took a step forward, but found quickly enough that he couldn't feel the ground, either. "Where the fuck am I, anyway?"
The drum beats grew louder and louder with every passing moment, but Satoru wasn't entirely sure why they were playing at all. He stood there for a moment and wondered if he should cast Hollow Technique: Purple, just to see if it'd do anything to this darkness. More than likely, this was an illusion of some kind, made by something powerful enough to bypass Infinity or, more than likely, this was the Domain of a very powerful Cursed Entity of some sort. Satoru didn't like the sound of that. There was only one such place in the entire Craftworld and he really wasn't planning on paying that place a visit until after the Mechanicus were driven away. Shit.
And then, the voice spoke again.
"Why are you here, human?"
"I don't know, man; I just got here." Satoru shrugged. And he was telling the truth. It's not like Satoru wanted to be blasted away from the battle. "But if you don't want me to be here, then maybe you could just – I don't know – point the way out? That'd be really swell if you did."
"My children call you Britheim. Do you even understand what the prophecy entails?"
"I one hundred percent do not understand what the prophecy entails, but I've got a few ideas – unite the Aeldari, know their ways, holy war, etc." Satoru shrugged again, right before he started running around in any direction, searching for a wall. He didn't find one. Sighing, Satoru stopped and sighed. "I'm supposed to save the Aeldari or some shit. Wait, why did you call them your children?"
"I am Khaine, the Blood Handed God of War and Murder. This... what you see around you, is but a fragment of a much greater whole. This darkness was once my domain, but now only echoes of it remain. But, once, I led the ancient Aeldari into the greatest and bloodiest battles they've ever seen."
"That really didn't explain anything, but okay. A pleasure to meet you mister stabby-stabby god of war and murder. It seems like you have something you want to tell me. So, can we get on with it, maybe? I'm kind of in a hurry, here." Satoru answered. And, in response, Khaine bellowed in deep and raucous laughter.
"Yes, you will do quite well. The Britheim was meant for more than to simply unite the Aeldari and ignite the Holy War of Reclamation. No. The Britheim is the herald of the Gods and the one who brings paradise. Do you understand what this means, human?"
"No idea, but I have a feeling that you're about to tell me, murder boy."
"The Britheim was meant host the shards of the Aeldari Gods within themselves, becoming the Harbinger of their return. Power is exchanged. Power is transferred. And through the Britheim's ascension, the Pantheon is remade and reborn anew. Do you understand?"
Vague. Very vague, even if he somewhat understood what the shattered god was talking about. Too many unknowns. It was like listening to another stupid prophecy, which – of course – it was, but this was just ridiculous. Satoru sighed. "Sure, but exactly does that mean for me? I'm talking about tangible, practical effects here. No more vague prophecy nonsense."
"Ha! Spoken like a true soldier. Good. You will be a fine vessel. The practical side of it is that you will gain aspects of divine power. I am a God of War and Violence; and so, you will gain power and might the more you immerse yourself in my domain. The bloodier the war around you, the more power you gain. I will even give you control over my weapon, Anaris, though it is not even a shadow of its former self. The more shards you gather and store within yourself, the closer and closer you get to divinity. The Britheim is fated to become a god himself, becoming both the Harbinger of the New Pantheon and the Pantheon himself – a god vessel and a vessel of gods."
"Damn, bro, that absolute sucks." Satoru almost spat. Though, he found it weird that the only response he got from the God of War was even more laughter. Curious. "I'm all for getting stronger and gaining more power, but having others do it for me is not the way I'm planning on doing things, buddy."
"You've passed the test. Only the true Britheim would've denied an invitation to divinity."
"Man, this is dumb," Satoru said. This whole prophecy nonsense was becoming tedious. Britheim this and Britheim that. "We just met. How can you even be sure that I'm the Britheim? I mean, the Aeldari seem sure of it, but not all of them are certain. What makes you so sure?"
"The prophecy of the Britheim is more ancient than my children could ever know. It spoke of a savior from another race – a man who wields space and time, a sorcerer of unparalleled power. Every choice you've made has led you to this moment in time; and you made those choices yourself. The Britheim is beyond fate. If you had made even the slightest choice differently, then the Britheim would've remained a fringe prophecy, one of many to be forgotten. I knew who you were before you even barged into my shrine, before you ever awoke in this time."
"Then, why'd you even bother pretending that you didn't know me?"
"For dramatic effect."
"Fair enough."
"Unfortunately for you, Gojo Satoru, you do not have a choice in what happens next."
Satoru hissed as a burning sensation crept over the back of his right hand. Frowning, he brought his hand up for inspection. And, upon it, was a glowing mark, practically oozing with murderous Cursed Energy. Khaine wasn't lying. This shit was ridiculously powerful. In fact, just having it practically doubled his Cursed Energy Reserves and Output, both of which were already greatly bolstered when he absorbed the soul imprints of the Aeldari dead. Satoru sighed. "Man, what the fuck. I don't want this!"
"Behold the mark of Khaine, Britheim. With it, this shard of mine and all its power is now yours. Use it well, vessel. Fine the other shards and absorb them as well. The time of the Holy Reclamation draws near. We shall speak again once you find yourself in another one of my shrines, Britheim. Now, go and save my children. And remind this galaxy why it once trembled before the Bloody-Handed God!"
There it was again, being all vague. At the very least, Khaine could've explained what the mark did, specifically, instead of being dramatic.
And, just like that, the darkness receded. And, suddenly, Satoru found himself standing inside a... place that kind of looked like a chapel, but he couldn't be certain. What he did know was that this place used to be the Shrine of Khaine. Or, at least, it used to be, before Khaine merged with him and disappeared entirely. Would the Aeldari be mad over this or would they not care at all?
Satoru stared at the mark on his right hand and sighed. It certainly was powerful, but even he could tell that the power bestowed upon him was nothing more than a fragment of a fragment of a much greater whole, the embers of a dead god, not even a shadow of its former self. But now, the imprint of that god was gone; Khaine left behind all the power in his shard and gave it to Satoru. This was his power now, because the original owner was gone. What a nasty way to leave someone with something. "Well... shit. I might as well figure out how to use this thing-"
With a simple flicker of his will, Satoru's right arm transformed. Red-black plates appeared over his skin, crimson fire spewing from the gaps; hissing, burning blood dripped from his fingertips. And in his grasp spawned forth a sword of flame, screaming and screeching like an epic inferno. It was hot, Satoru mused, like holding a freaking miniature sun. But it wouldn't hurt him, not even if he turned Infinity off. And yet, it burned hot enough to begin melting the stone around him.
Despite the fact that this power had been forced on him, Satoru could not help but grin.
It was a flaming sword! What kind of man would he be if he didn't gush over a flaming fucking sword?! The child in him went crazy at the thought of holding such a cool-looking thing. The adult in him went absolutely bonkers at wielding a flaming sword. It was... so freaking cool. No, in fact, this was the coolest thing he'd ever held in his entire life. He felt like some kind of dark lord or some shit. Freaking amazing.
Still, with all his knowledge of Jujutsu, Satoru knew not to play with fire – in this case, literally. This power, unfortunately, wasn't just to manifest a cool flaming sword, no. He could see it, with Six Eyes, the divine complexity that saturated the mark and the abilities it could manifest. The flaming sword itself was pretty simple, all things considered. The complex part was how the mark now shifted the nature of Satoru's own Cursed Energy. Limitless was still there and it didn't seem like it'd been altered in any way, shape, or form. But now, Satoru felt himself drawing Cursed Energy from the war that raged around him, expanding both his Reserves and Output, even after they doubled from the mark.
And that was just the surface.
"Ah, screw it," Satoru sighed as he waved the sword around, left and right. "It's mine now and I might as well figure out how it works."
Yeah, no point moaning about something that he couldn't do anything about. Besides, if nothing else, this was a positive thing. For now, however, he was just going to use the sword and nothing else. It seemed like a fun little Cursed Tool to have.
Stepping out of the ruined temple, Satoru surveyed the ongoing battle. All things considered, the Aeldari were doing a very good job of keeping the Mechanicus occupied and on their back foot. The cyborgs gained plenty of ground, however, enough of it that they were able to establish a crude base of some kind, erecting shields and covers and other futuristic shit that Satoru didn't understand. They also had a bunch of tanks and even more titans now, though these ones were a fair bit smaller than the last ones.
Grinning, Satoru Augmented his legs with a huge amount of Cursed Energy and surged through the open air, a trail of fire and smoke behind him. He picked his target, a titan with a machine gun on both of its arms, this one about fifteen meters tall at best. Its weapon unleashed thousands of bullets every minute, decimating the Aeldari ranks. He couldn't allow that. And so, like a meteor from the cosmos, Gojo Satoru descended upon the monster of metal. He raised the flaming sword and brought it down. The air screeched as the blade of fire collided against the titan's shield.
And then, the shield shattered not a moment later. Gojo Satoru's grin was the widest it'd ever been as he continued down and brought the blade low, its flaming form sinking into the titan's metal head, easily melting through whatever metal it was made of. Satoru plunged the fiery sword deep into the titan's forehead and watched as liquid fire engulfed the monstrous robot, its systems shutting down as its head began melting away into a puddle of smoldering metal. Satoru then pushed himself up, pulling the blade high and bringing it over his head, just before he brought it down once more, but not before sending a surge of Cursed Energy into the flaming sword. The blade extended and Satoru cleaved right through the titan, slicing the giant machine in half.
"Holy shit."
Chapter 36 is up on (Pat)reon!