Chapter Three
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"Sanguinius. It should have been him. He has the vision and the strength to carry us to victory, and the wisdom to rule once victory is won. For all his aloof coolness, he alone has the Emperor's soul in his blood. Each of us carries part of our father within us, whether it is his hunger for battle, his psychic talent or his determination to succeed. Sanguinius holds it all. It should have been his…,"
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The sound of the wind echoes through his ears and Sanguinius lets it touch his long flowing locks as it flies behind him through the four wheeled sledder he is riding in. Around him are almost a hundred of the four-footed Rochs, the cow like animals lowing and mooing. They are Royz's village tithe as demanded by the Planetary Governor from the different villages of the planet. With them are almost a dozen Grox being driven separately else the reptilian bad tempered animals would start attacking the Rochs and the other Groxes also.
So far along the ride, Sanguinius is left alone by the twenty or so people that are herding the group of animals to the city hub of Mitra that can be slowly being seen far ahead. Black large buildings rising from the ground can be seen in the distance like large spires showing the end of their destination. The people around his caravan barely have said a word about him which Sanguinius ignores. Unlike the village Chief, Royz, they are wary of him and his sudden appearance at the village. Plus they don't have a life debt to share with him like Royz who has his grand-daughter saved by him.
Sanguinius simply acknowledges their fear and wariness of him. This is not the first time that a regular mortal is afraid of him due to his wings and size. It is to be expected of him that he be different. Primarchs are made to be higher than any of the mortals can even comprehend. Besides even in Baal, before he was acknowledged as its leader by the noble tribes that call the planet their home, they were wary of him in the first place.
Sanguinius at the moment however does not simply fly to Mitra up ahead. Instead he opts to cover his wings with the pelt that Royz has given him. No point in scaring the locals by having a giant flying man in their skies. The last thing he wants is some terrified Planetary Defense Soldier getting itchy trigger finger at the very sight of him.
Besides, this gives Sanguinius time to think of the things he has learned so far from Royz.
The planet he is called in is Thracia and is an Agri-World. The fact that they don't know anything about him probably means that it is in the Outer Territories of the Imperium. He and his brothers after all conquered a lot of worlds and it is rare to find a world that is not familiar of him or his brothers. So far all he needs right now is to find an Arbites and try out his old security code. That would clear his name as the Primarch of the Ninth Legion and would give him a free ride to Terra as soonest as possible.
Speaking of Terra, Sanguinius is deeply troubled by all that he has learned so far. He has no idea what is going on with Terra at the moment or especially his father. The locals are calling his father, the God-Emperor of Mankind and he detects no lie on their part. They truly believed in a way that a person would believe if he has been reared up with that idea his entire life. There is no way that his father would allow himself to be called that title. Of that, Sanguinius can stake his very life. His father is adamant on making sure and proving that he is not in any way, a god. Besides, even if he is indeed truly gets the notion that he is a god. Sanguinius is pretty sure that his last loyal children who stands and fights for him would not let it go. Dorn, Guilliman, the Lion, Vulkan, and even the Khan would not stand for it. They after all fight on for the beliefs of the Emperor and for the atheistic empire that he pushes forward.
Still, the fact remains that the people here worships the Emperor of Mankind as a god. In fact even in this morning as he awaits for the caravan to leave, he can hear more than once a rancher or so heading off to work singing hymns to the Emperor in praise. It almost made him shudder hearing it. It feels so wrong and not right at all.
There is something going on in the galaxy that Sanguinius is not aware of and he would do his damnest to find out what it is.
It takes the caravan half a day to finish the last leg of the trek before reaching the city hub. The first thing that indicates that it is a city hub is the smell of oil and metal. Sanguinius sees more traffic as their group reaches the main roads where other villages also are herding their animals as part of the tithe. The towering twin spires of the city hub of Mitra loom over them as they enter it.
The city hub is nothing to look at. It is almost the same as any Imperial Agri-World. It does not contain the rancid and filthy look that Hive Worlds have. The twin spires are tall, but not so tall like most spires. Through their windows, one can see the Administratum clerks and workers keeping the grinding of industry running in this part of the hub. Also around the hub are countless stone houses like one would find in the desert worlds. Each is either a business or a home, basically the things you would find in a city but just full of sand and dust. People are everywhere but animals can be seen most of all. Sanguinuis thought it's fair to do so. This is an Agri-World after all which he believes specializes on husbandry.
"This is your stop," the driver of the sledder says stopping the vehicle at what seems to be the center plaza of the city hub. "You can ask around for a transport ship that would either take you off world or to the main capital,"
"Thank you," Sanguinius simply says stepping off from the sledder. "Good luck,"
"Emperor bless you too stranger. Have a nice trip," the driver says before urging the sledder forward easily disappearing in the throng of other sledders and animals all around.
Taking a deep breathe, Sanguinius looks around. The plaza is simply teeming with other farmers and ranchers going their business. One or two would look at him every now and then due to probably his large height and size, but pay him no heed otherwise. The pelt is doing its part acting as a covering for the Primarch showing everything but his face to the outside world.
Shrugging to himself, Sanguinius heads to one of the stalls selling what seem to be the recycled claws of animal. The man manning it beams at his coming though he sizes him up and down for a second before reorienting himself.
"Greetings! Welcome to Tibek's workshop of odds and ends. To what do I owe the pleasure of your interest friend? You want claws and fangs for your souvenir or maybe lovely pelts that can be used as rugs for the entrance of your homes?" says the vendor.
"I am not here to purchase anything. I am afraid my friend. I am here simply to ask directions. Could you point me out to a space-port that can lead me off world?" asks Sanguinius.
"Ahhh. I apologize to tell you that there are no such ports that lead off world here at Mitra stranger," the vendor says with an apologetic tone. "The only place where that hosts off world craft is from the main city of the planetary governor. That is at least what I know of,"
"Thank you," Sanguinius simply dips his head, his face not showing the bit of frustration as he turns away. It seems that he would need to travel again. This time to the main city of this Agri-World so that he can leave the planet and initiate his original plan on finding answers from Terra.
It takes him another two vendor stalls later of asking before he gets a general direction of the steam engine station that apparently connects the main city of Liknik to the City Hubs all around the planet. It is the most common commercial mode of travel that the citizens of Thracia apparently liked to use. Normally he would have flown simply to the outskirts of the city which would be faster and snuck in. Primarchs can be rather sneaky to, especially unarmoured ones. However once again, he does not know the way, thus Sanguinius exerted his extreme patience in traveling the "mortal" way.
As it is, he takes the time to observe the citizens of this Agri-World as they conduct their business while heading towards the general direction of the station. Sanguinius has to admit that he has been spending less time simply observing humanity on its normalcy the past two hundred years during the span of the Great Crusade. Surrounded by his sons and the upper echelons of the Imperium of Man, he has not really taken the opportunity to see the common man at work and living. It is humbling to say the least.
"A little reminder of what we're supposed to be fighting for," thinks Sanguinius to himself as he observes a young child asking her mother for one of the meat on sticks at a stand.
The Legiones Astartes of the Great Crusade had spear-headed the charge in the void bringing human worlds, one after the other in the name of humanity. At least that's what the original purpose of the Emperor was for all of them. In the end it became less for humanity and more about who's honor and glory was the greatest. Who pacified worlds the most, who brought the greatest number of people, who the greatest of them all, brothers was. Sanguinius was ashamed to admit that even he thought the same at that time. It became for them, the Primarchs instead of being for humanity. They've forgotten the big picture that the Emperor intended for them to fulfill and instead focus on their own separate pieces. In the end it might had been because of such divisions and separations that lit Horus' own rebellion.
"But I guess being human is being selfish also right?" Sanguinius thinks to himself as he watches the ranchers dealing with what seems to be some low level adepts who counts off the Rochs they are handing over in submission to the tithe requirements.
He and his brothers are more human than they expected and each of them has their own flaws; even him. Maybe at the end of the day, all they can simply do is do their best with the space that is allocated to them. Too much and they would buckle under the strain of too much. Even his father shares his duties with Malcador after all. Sanguinius really hopes that he can see the old geezer again. The man is his uncle in all but blood and Sanguinius' foresight has not shown him whether Malcador would survive sitting on the Golden Throne.
The station that Sanguinius found the steam locomotive he soon finds is nothing great. It is rocky in design like everyone else. Haggard looking conductors are listing off passengers and cargo, which is usually Roch Tithes. The locomotive is of old-earth design where he sees a couple of tech priests are blessing with oil and incense, doing their usual Mechanicus prayers. He counts at least twenty large carriages with three dedicated to human occupancy while the rest are for the Rochs and Grox to be transported to the main city. The locomotive is also connected to a railway that heads off into the wasteland beyond.
The Great Angel is just ready to step forward to the conductors to book himself a space for the steam engine when he falters and then sees it:
"A great city covered with grey clouds. Purple lightning flashes all over and the booming of thunder can be heard. The sky is rent and hundreds of abominable beings fell like rain scattering all over large city. Screams can be heard as the things, beast like with curved horns and jagged mouths with eight eyes, purple in color having humanoid bodies but four feet like animals attack the human populace of the city. Booms and explosions can be heard as men in grey and silver tabards fight back with long spears and pole axes with the occasional squad carrying lasguns and stubbers. It is a mess and blood filled the streets. Then from out of the mass of abominations walks a large group of Astartes, all wearing black armor with red linings on them. One of them raises a chain-axe and roars with a mighty war cry: "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" Sanguinius snaps back to reality as he realizes that the battle cry he has also heard in the present and not in his vision. His eyes immediately roam around searching for the source of the cry. Long and bitter experience tells him more than enough who and what type of crowd that war cry belongs to.
"CHAOS!" he thinks wildly looking around also at the flabbergasted crowd who also obviously heard it and are looking for the source.
It does not take long for them to find them. From different buildings burst out heavily tattoed men with some even still bleeding, their hairs askew and their eyes wild and mad looking. At their hands are cleavers, saws and even some have stubbers. Like a pack of rabid animals they tear into the stupefied crowd with whoops and maddened cheers like wolves would unto sheep. Blood spills and the screams of the crowd replace the sudden calm as panic ensues. Men, women and children start running in all directions as they try to escape the cultists currently killing them. It is not also based only on the station. At the direction of the street he just passed before, Sanguinius notices even more cultists appearing and killing while shouting praises and prayers to Khorne.
"This is no random attack, this is planned," thinks the Great Angel as everywhere becomes pandemonium.
He can see the few guards at the station taking on the cultists with electric poles and spears while a couple fire on with their stubbers. With the people running around however in panic, they are having as little effect as possible in worry about hitting civilians. The cultists does not have that problem, they hack and they shoot with wild abandon staining the dry desert ground crimson as they roar their approval for their god. Sanguinius sees one fight off one of the guards and dice him in half with what seems to be an overlarge chainsaw, the guard's pole not helping him one bit defend against it.
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" roars another cultist as he blasts an escaping woman's head at the back open. Her lifeless body stumbles bringing down with her the little child she is pulling along.
Immediately he starts crying as he tries to wake his mother in vain with his little hands, staining his small fingers with blood even as the cultist that killed his mother approaches him, his breathe coming off in smokes of the red gas mask that he is wearing. He looks down at the crying child before raising the chainsaw above his head to bring it down.
That is as far as he gets.
Sanguinius in two bounding steps is at his back and grabs his head with one large meaty hand. With one pull, he rips it off his body, skull, spine and all with a burst of crimson. The body falls down with a simple thud. Turning his brown eyes at the five or so of the cultist's buddies, Sanguinius launches the cultist's head with the spine attached like a cannon ball towards them. Two of them dies; one upon impact at his own head with his skull exploding like a piñata and the other by the whiplash of the spine cutting through his neck, severing it halfway through making him choke on his own blood.
Any normal man might have run away already facing a foe such as Sanguinius. However this is Khorne cultists. They are not well-known for their common sense, even if they are outmatched. With wild battle-cries, they charge forward with spittle flying from their mouths with one of the three shooting a stubber while he charges.
Sanguinius tanks the rounds, ignoring the small pinpricks in his body as he faces the three head on. The first one gets a straight forward punch that tears through his chest like paper, the Primarch's hands cutting through flesh, bone and skin. The next one gets bitch slapped with the extra hand of Sanguinius turning his head three sixty four times before crashing on the ground dead. Grabbing the metal two handed axe by one of the Cultists' he killed, Sanguinius hurls it at the one with the stubber who barely has time to shout before it lodges into his chest. Such is the Primarch's strength that it sends him flying to the crowd still panicking as the slaughter continues around.
"Come here child," says Sanguinius scooping up the little kid with one of his free hands. He cries even harder being separated from his dead parent but settles down at the presence of Sanguinius as he holds him to his chest.
Another screaming cultist tries to attack Sanguinius while he's crouching but the Great Angel simply moves his elbow backwards fast to intercept him, catching the cultist off guard before he slams into it cracking his own ribs in the process.
Standing up, Sanguinius lopes through the throng bashing, punching and kicking cultists aside through the panicking people. He's not even making an effort as he puts down cultist after cultists that are trying to attack him. Such is the expertise of the Emperor's gene craft that a Primarch might as well be gods among men as he tears into shreds anyone that dare stand in his way. Standing bigger and taller than the rest of the humans around; many cultists try their luck on bringing down the covered Great Angel to their demise as they are thrown away broken and dead. The few guards and law enforcers notice the success that Sanguinius is doing for they wordlessly rallied behind him, as he cuts through a swathe in the crowd and the cultists with ease.
As for Sanguinius, he pushes through the crowd towards what seems to be a pub a few stones' throw away from the station. Like everywhere else, the streets around it have been overrun by cultists, but the pub itself is still safe with a dozen men making a perimeter, mostly patrons with guns and three Adeptus Arbites with heavy stubber pistols shooting at any cultist that tries to breach the perimeter.
Into them Sanguinius makes way through before pausing at the entrance as he puts the hiccupping kid down. Immediately a matronly looking woman appears from the doors looking down at the kid and at him, her eyes widening. Obviously, she is taken aback by his size and height.
"Take care of him while I take care of these wretches," says Sanguinius, stern but not unkind. Such is the authority however behind his voice that the woman nods immediately grabbing the kid from the floor before heading in, the sounds of door locks clicking behind her.
With him now alone, Sanguinius brows' tighten, his kind brown eyes turning into steel as he turns back to the pandemonium still currently going on with the city hab. Nothing gives Sanguinius more reason to hate Chaos due to its servants taking down the innocent. No one gets to spill innocent blood in his watch and gets away with it.
"No one!" he swears to himself. At the end of the day, he is still the Great Angel of the Imperium, Primarch of the Ninth Legion, defender of humanity.
He shrugs off the coverings off of his back and head, the disguise slipping away and his white wings opened for all to see. Just in time too for warp rifts start to appear all over the city hab glowing purple and red. The next second and out comes running Astartes with horns on their head colored a dark ruby with the sigil of Khorne at their faceplates and chest pieces roaring in triumph.
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
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Author's Note:
Yeah, so Sanguinius is officially in his first fight. Now how would an armorless and weaponless Primarch fare against Chaos Space Marines and the cultists they command all alone?
Small fact, Sangunius doesn't know that he's ten thousand years in the future, yet. He still thinks he was only a few months or years at most from the day he died against Horus.
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