The entire hab block was abuzz with activity. Families out in the streets, laughing, singing songs, children playing games. The evening festivities were in full swing here and likely all across the sub-level, if not the whole Hive.
The Entity helped out, its little minions flying and jumping about the day before, setting up strings of lights and paper lanterns in preparation for tonight. Not that anyone but he could see them.
Ahsael despised Sanguinala. It was a sanctimonious corpse-worshipper holiday commemorating the sacrifice of the Emperor's most beloved son. A time of giving, hope, and caring.
"Mom, Calba's shaking again. Is he sick?"
"I don't know honey. Here, have another blanket for your brother."
By the Four, end him now.
Ahsael would've sneered if he had the facial muscles to do so. Blasted puny mortal body. Once a space marine and a powerful sorcerer besides, capable of laying waste to entire divisions of soldiers. Now reduced to being swaddled in this garish amalgamation of red and green cloth and forced to wear a ridiculous set of ornamental horns carved from some of the woodier vines growing like weeds across the hab.
And to add insult to this long, long list of injuries, the Malum Entity keeping him trapped in this perpetual hell saw it fit to humiliate him in public display of these mortals!
That morning...
When he, along with the entire hab, woke up, they found that someone (Ahsael knew it was the Malum Entity, he was sure of it!) had erected a small tree decorated in flimsy metal and red spheres, topped with a shiny gold star fashioned from some sort of plaster. Not only that, but they (it) left a pile of boxes neatly wrapped in red paper and tied with green ribbons. The mortals went out to investigate and found that all the other habs had the same thing—decorated trees with piles of wrapped boxes lying beneath.
The mortal girl was the first to investigate and found that each box was addressed to a member of the hab: the mother, the father, his brother's family, and even the man's father. The girl was the first to open hers by tearing into it like a wild animal, ripping apart the paper like some savage would a fresh kill. She reached in and pulled out one of those gameboy data slates, except this one was bigger and looked much more advanced. The girl's mother received a scarf and a pair of gloves fashioned from some soft animal leather, and the men received grooming kits complete with sharp razors, creams, perfumes, brushes, and a small mirror. Judging by their reactions, the mortals were pleased with these petty trinkets. Bah, the fools would look upon simple fruits and threadbare beds and call them gifts from on high. If only they knew of what greater treasures he's held as mere passing-
"Hey Calba, look! There's one for you as well!"
Really!?
...Ahem. Very well, it would only be fitting that he should receive something as well. Not that this would appease his wrath once his powers were restored, of course, but even a bucket can contribute to filling an ocean. He would accept this small token, then.
The mortal girl dragged out a box as big as she was from behind the tree, huffing as she deposited it in front of Ahsael. How...was that hidden there until now? No matter, now he just needed to figure out a way to open the blasted thing. There was no paper, just stiffened fabric panels painted red and tied with green ribbons. With his weakened form, there was no way that he could tear through the sides and the box was several times taller than him, so he couldn't untie the ribbon himself...
...urgh...
Very, very reluctantly, Ahsael tugged on the girl's pant leg, gaining her attention, then pointing at the box. He said pointing, but in reality, it was more like batting his chubby fist on the box.
"Aww, you need help opening up your box, Calba?" The girl's mother cooed.
Woman, one more word, and I will blast you with warp lighting, consequences be damned.
He batted the box again.
The girl grinned and picked him up. "Here you go, Calba. Here, can you grab onto that?" She held him close to the top of the box and pointed towards one of the ends of the green ribbon tying the box together. "There. we can open it together."
Ahsael gritted his teeth and leaned forward in the girl's arms, taking a clumsy hold of the green ribbon. He refused to acknowledge the mortal's smile as he did so. He maintained his grip as the girl stepped back, letting him pull apart the green ribbon. Now slack, the panels bloomed outwards like the petals of a flower to reveal...
Another box?
Ahsael blinked at what he saw. Indeed, it was another box, identical to the first, down to the placement of the ribbon, just smaller.
"Huh." The girl verbalized the same confusion he felt running through his mind. "Well, wanna try again?"
He didn't think he had a choice...well, the Entity had its fun. Time to see what it left him.
A few minutes later...
Why why why why why!? What was the point of this!?
Ahsael fumed in the girl's arms, fists balled and face red with a mix of rage and embarrassment as for the fifth warp-blasted, thrice-cursed, grox-rutting time he opened yet another box only to reveal a smaller one within. What trickery was this!? Who dared to mock him!? Him! A space marine and sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, who laid waste to entire worlds, chained elder daemons to his will, and supped on the marrows of a thousand heroes!?
"Aww, don't be sad, Calba. Here, let's try again, I'm sure this will be the last one!" The girl tried to assure him as she rocked him up and down in her arms.
By the gods, child, your optimism is sickening.
Ahsael glared up at her smiling face, huffing as he regained his calm.
What was this? Trickery or not, he was a damned space marine. He's faced down horrors beyond mortal comprehension and survived several millennia of constant combat and schemes. And here he was, losing his composure over a bloody box when dealing with literal daemons failed to do the same. No doubt this was one of the Entity's schemes, an attempt to loosen his mental defenses now that he was trapped in this puny form. He refused to play its game, much less give it the satisfaction of letting it win.
Steeling his will, Ahsael batted the mortal girl's arm and waved a hand down at the last box. The girl grinned and picked it up. It was barely any bigger than the palm of her hand.
"Here you go, Calba." She said as she held it up to him.
He grabbed the ribbon.
Once more unto the breach.
"Tenacious boy, that one." The girl's grandfather chuckled.
Old man, when I get my powers back, you die first.
He pulled.
Unlike the other (warp-blasted, thrice-damned) boxes, this one didn't open up like a flower. It just had a lid. Slowly, he grabbed the edge of it and lifted it. The entire family leaned in to look inside.
It was a rock. Wrapped up in a green ribbon.
Ahsael's eye twitched.
The girl's mother picked it up. It was a rock. Black and oily yet dusty enough to stain her fingers and smudge the ribbon as she held it up for the others to see.
"What is it?" The girl asked.
"I don't know." The girl's mother held it out to her husband. "Nanel, any idea?"
The man took it from her and held it up to his eye. "I...I think I know what this is. Some of the lads down at the factory keep stockpiles of this near the furnaces. Burns pretty well and sometimes they've snagged some bits to take back to heat their homes. Wasn't like the overseers cared. Had shipments of this coming in by freight anyways."
He gave it to Ahsael. "Here you go, son."
"What's it called, Dad?"
The man shrugged. "The lads called it coal."
"Weird name." The mother muttered.
"Maybe it's a special coal." The girl piped up. "Why else would they give it to Calba?"
Ahsael squirmed in her grip. This was getting ridiculous. And what was this tinge in his chest? Was this coal poisonous? He looked up at the others. The girl was fine. So were her parents and the old man (unfortunately). Strange. What was stranger was that he noticed some sort of script carved into the rock's surface, but the girl's mother plucked it out of his hands before he could read it.
The girl's mother smiled. "Of course, sweetheart. We can put it on the shelf. Just don't let your brother touch it, I don't like this dust."
Ahsael scowled up at her. Damnit woman, it was just a rock. How much damage could it do?
...Probably a lot, considering he was now mortal. Blast it all.
There was a knock at their door. The girl's father walked over and opened the door. It was the neighbors, a man and a woman. Ahsael never bothered to learn their names.
The man smiled. "Heya, Nanel! You hear the news?"
The girl's father raised an eyebrow. "Heya Batu. What's going on?" He leaned to look over the man's shoulder. "Are those lanterns?"
The neighbor grinned. "Yep. Silvia found them when she woke up for her walk. The entire block is out right now! Food, music, games-Sanguinala just got more interesting, my friend!" He waved over at the girl's mother. "Heya, Cory!"
She smiled and waved back. "Hello, Batu."
The neighbor turned back to her husband. "Well? Are you guys going to join us? Miss Gamma is out right now giving out drinks and biscuits to the kids. She called it "hot chocolate". Damn good stuff, let me tell you."
The girl gasped and shook Ahsael in her arms as she jumped up and down. "Oh, please, Dad? Can we?"
Her father smiled. "Oh, alright. Come on, then."
"Yayyyy!"
That evening...
And that's what led him to the present, being swaddled in red and green blankets in the girl's lap as she played with her new gameboy. The graphics were certainly more detailed. And there was a better selection of games to choose from. Racing games with vehicles you could personally modify. Games where you took control of a small aspect warrior dressed in green wielding a sword and shield against an army of orks. The one she was playing right now had her control a character in a world full of cubes of all things. No mission, no goal. All she did was build things out of blocks and die from those exploding bipedal green creatures, only to revive herself and restart the entire process. And all he could do was sit there and watch when all he got was a mere rock.
The entire situation was ridiculous.
No, he wasn't jealous, and he'd sooner rip out the tongue and eyes of anyone who presumed otherwise.
The former sorcerer and warlord was broken out of his musings when the girl lowered the gameboy in front of him. He looked up at her to see that the mortal was smiling down at him.
"You wanna try, Calba?" She asked.
Ahsael sneered. Pathetic mortal. Had he his old powers, such a question would've earned lesser warlords a swift death by his hand, much less a human child. He did not need permission from anyone to take what he wanted. The girl, oblivious to his annoyance, simply went on to explain the controls for the game. "I think it's a bit silly that you only got a rock this morning, Calba, even if it is a special rock. But don't worry! We can share my toys! It's no fun playing by myself, anyway. Here, this is how you place the blocks..."
Later that night, when everyone else was asleep, Ahsael would crawl over to the shelf where the rock was sitting out of reach. A flex of his psychic powers was enough to tug it off and let it fall before him.
Sitting by an open window of the hab, he read the script he saw earlier. His eyes widened in recognition. It was High Gothic. A single phrase wrapped almost entirely around its surface.
Goodness within is found by those who seek it.
Ahsael's face scrunched up in thought. What in the warp was that supposed to mean? Goodness within? He scoffed. Another one of the Entity's tricks, it seemed. What a waste of his time.
He heard a body shift in the bed behind him and hurried to return the rock to its place on the shelf. Another flex of his power and the rock floated back up, right in the same place he took it from. Just in time, too, as a sleepy voice approached him.
"Calba? What are you doing up right now?" It was the girl. Mind still clouded with sleep, but still cognizant enough to pick him up. "C'mon, let's go back to bed."
Ahsael huffed. Months of being a helpless babe, and still the act of him being picked up and carried like one rankled him to the core. He fought the urge to yawn as the mortal crawled back into the warm covers with the rest of her family. As his eyes grew heavier, he began to drift off, but not before he heard the child mutter something before she fell asleep.
"Don't be upset about the rock, Calba. We can share my toys. You're my brother, after all."
That same twinge in his chest came back. Why? Why was this happening to him? What was this feeling? Ever since his ascension as a sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, Ahsael has fought. As a Legionary in the Corpse Emperor's grand armies to the thousands of years he's spent slaughtering Loyalist dogs and all the horrors the galaxy had to offer. He knew his path. His mind a fortress, his soul a bastion.
"Good night, Calba."
And yet...and yet now, in a backwater hab-block in a backwater sub-level in a backwater hive world, Ahsael, for the first time in millennia, did not have an answer.
"..."
...Good night, Selene.
Warp blast it all...