Chapter 5: Across the World.
"Cargo bays one and four have been reclaimed from the Blackspike Gang, with minimum casualties on 106th side. Clad in Ire's manufactorum has now begun melting down salvaged materials and converting them to useful ones. Hangar bay full conversion process underway, expecting four weeks until completion without Rho-Q 22/4." —RX-777's voxlog report to TE-61
The arid seas of dirt brown were the same sight as always, and though they had managed to find some bits of life on this planet, such as prairies or wild grasses, it truly was a wasteland to navigate.
Faust was absentminded most of the time driving, but currently he was overthinking about their current situation. He glanced at Otto briefly, repressing some terrible thoughts that came from nowhere, and smirking softly as the old man slept. Small memories of shared triumphs and fights with each other sprouted, before fading softly. He knew none would be able to hear his thoughts due to Otto, and so, he pondered.
Rulk and Ymmîr had commented about the warp, yet Faust wasn't much of an expert on anything related to that—or other subjects. Well, other than being a Rogue Trader. That he knew intimately, along with everything that came along with the title. But he wasn't a Xenobiologist like Delta or a clergyman like Davis. In this case, he especially knew nothing about the fragging warp other than to not be there without a gellar field or rampart.
But what he did know from the stories was that the warp was seldom calm, if ever. So, it had to be a tremendous change that it was now calm. But why? And how?
And then the part about the Emperor's light. It extended to every place in the galaxy and no matter how far away you were, or whether you were in the depths of the void, navigators always saw his merciful lighthouse.
Were they even in the same galaxy?
A chill ran down his spine at the question. Faust didn't want to think about that. He especially didn't want to think about the possibility they were permanently stranded.
"Oi, will you get that stick out your ass? I know you've seen some groxshite in your life but by the Throne will you relax?"
Ah, good, a distraction. Faust turned his attention to the conversation happening in the back of Lucky 12.
"Them's fighting words you–" A meaty thwack interrupted Kazi's sharp voice, along with a pained yelp.
"There will be no fighting aboard this holy vessel, it is inefficient and a waste of resources." Ome's voice crackled, "We are the escort of Captain Faust and we will not sully that task."
"H-He's a Captain?" the timid voice of Jarrackus voiced out, "I guess that's why he's wearing that armor. So, why's a Captain doing field work?"
"Sah 'efers it." Brogg responded, voice slightly muffled from being outside. "Says it's ente– ender– enter-taining! Ha, got it! It's enter-taining to do. Makes Sah less bored, ya see. And you don't wanna see 'em bored."
"Why's that?" Kazi asked, her grumpy voice still very apparent.
Brogg snorted, "No reason."
Antoni coughed awkwardly into his hand, likely gathering their attention "You know… I wonder how other bits of the crew are doing? It's a big ship and rumor has it most of it was falling apart as it fell from orbit."
Faust clenched the wheel of Lucky 12, with the dash lighting up unexpectedly from that. He let go, feeling slightly guilty he took his anger out on the innocent Taurox.
"Dunno, they're probably dead."
"Knock it off, Kazi! Seriously you're just bringing down the mood…"
Faust leaned more into his seat, his mind now thinking about the parts of the ship that had broken off or the savior pods that were likely scattered across the world. His precious cargo held countless things, and for any of the locals to find them could spell out bad news. At least most of them had a lock on them that not many datasmiths would be able to break—hopefully.
Most of all… he hoped Delta was alright.
The arid heat was bothersome to deal with under her purple robes, but at least her internal cooling system was keeping her frosty. However, what wasn't keeping her cooled down was the rising anger at having to be separated from Faust for so long. That, and the dirt sticking to some of her artificial skin.
"GRAH!" Delta slammed the butt of her Omnissian axe into the ground, causing dust to fly around everywhere from the cracks in the earth. The group of skitarii, three other tech-priests, and servitors all halted after her sudden outburst.
They had all arrived in a prairie in separate pods, evacuating from one of the prime engine blocks. Only twenty too were here, of the fifty in that engine block…
Delta wondered if her genetor sanctum was still intact, but that was of lower priority.
"Is something the matter, Mistress Delta 71?" A female voice with a static vox asked.
Delta sat on her large mechadendrite tail with her arms crossed, looking at Rho-Q 22/4. She was the main tech-priest that followed Delta and was in charge of overlooking the Enginseers or the Manufactorum—when she wasn't busy. She was not of Forge World Hephae Prime and was instead from one of the Lathe Worlds. Delta's memory always seemed to forget from which of the trio, but it was definitely from one of them.
She was more humanoid compared to Delta's appearance, being completely clad in a steel suit for all to see. She had short, frizzled gold hair, but that was all you could tell to determine if she was human. Her red robes were small and more an accessory than anything that covered her up, yet the importance of them remained. She had a single visor that shined like blue over her eyes, and her mouth looked more like metallic bone from a skull. Her method of mobility was the three long claws extending from her back, moving her forward with each step.
Hanging close to her hands were dual Stubcarbines, held aloft by a mechadendrite that carried each in the off chance she needed to shoot something fast.
"Yes, something is the matter! It has been three days, twelve hours, twenty minutes, and seven seconds since I have been with Faust! I cannot stand it any longer!"
The rest of her group all relaxed at that, continuing to walk towards the incredibly distant smoke in the sky, which only frustrated Delta further. How could they not see the importance? It was impossible that they couldn't!
"Mistress Delta 71, you are overreacting."
"I most certainly am not! We should've been rescued by now, but we've been continuously interrupted by those black crystals that we landed nearby. I am sure of it! They are jamming us by some unknowable measure!"
"Precisely why we had a servitor take a sample. I know we cannot call for aid due to their interference, but it is likely they cannot even send a Valkyrie to find us. Captain Faust knows we can protect ourselves, and thus, we are lower on the priority list for that rescue."
"But–"
"But he is likely trying to find us as we speak. Chances are a 103% percent chance he has already located our crash site and is using that mysterious Taurox to drive towards us." Rho-Q tapped her chin, "Margin of error being 3.22%."
Delta sank further after being shut down, slithering with a hunched frame. She knew she should be calmer, but it was Faust they were talking about.
"Fine… but I will be continuously venting steam the entire way."
"We know, Magos Delta 71, we know. We only tolerate it due to your brilliance, if sometimes…" Rho-Q words drifted, before scowling slightly, "…xenarite ways. Are we to continue our journey? Daylight is draining by the second as we speak."
Delta nodded, gripping her axe tighter. She was going to see Faust, no matter what this world threw at her.
"Magos Delta 71, do you believe reclaiming all lost equipment will be an efficient process?"
"Negatory, the process will be laborious. Numerous factors are unknown. May whatever finds the survivors be easy to dispatch or an ally to them."
The thunderous roar of boltguns announced themselves in the frozen taiga of this planet, with a bramble of trees cut down by a savior pod. Snow softly fell as a battle waged under its canopy. A heavy beam of yellowish light burned through a tree, having gone through its enemy first.
These were no mere survivors. They were mortal, yes, but they were modified beyond belief. A ball of blue energy missed its target, settling into the snow and instantly melting the impacted area. These soldiers—meticulously crafted to serve demigods—were armored, deadly, and supposedly fearless. A clash of metal on metal, then the sounds of bone being crushed, and finally the sounds ended with a corpse rocketing into a tree.
The last boltgun round fell onto the snow, sinking as the heat dispersed into the powdery snow as a corpse dropped lifelessly. Its head was completely gone, swirling purple energy dissipating from its corruption.
In the middle of this taiga were five of the Emperor's Angels, surrounded by about two dozen corpses around their crashed savior pod. They were clad in their holy yellow power armor and stood at an intimidating eight feet tall. The pattern on one of their pauldrons was a checkerboard, with a white circle directly in the middle. Within the circle, lay a red heart, with a single black tear falling from it.
As the battle ended, each Lamenter Space Marine gathered closely, scanning the surroundings for any more targets.
They had been ambushed while they waited around their crash site, a decision made by the leader of this group to await rescue—though it was likely not needed. They had no sergeant, as he had been dead for some time long before this. Instead, they were led by the next of command,
"I believe we're clear…" Aetheris Idrigal said, lowering his plasma pistol. He viewed the taiga one last time through the lenses of his helmet, searching for any more threats. None came. He clenched the powerfist on his left hand idly, looking at one of the corpses.
"Were those… daemons? I don't believe they typically look like that." Leonidus Mirum responded, crouching down to inspect a body. Aetheris closely observed what he was prodding at. This one had horns growing on its head, likely being a warp mutation on his first assumption. But… no, that couldn't be the case, some of the other corpses, although had bled black and were frenzied into attacking, had similar humanoid structures to that of the regular humans of the Imperium. Practically the same with the exception being animalistic features. Then… exactly what were they? Abhumans?
Eno Kydexus scoffed at Leonidus' question, lowering his boltgun, "If that were the case, they would have been tougher. And what would you know of daemons anyway? We have not personally slain such foes before."
"Ah, but the stories among our seasoned Chapter and its history have described them before…" Leonidus remarked, before nodding thoughtfully and quickly adding, "...At least, to some extent. They still acted the part, I should say."
Igallon Bouldersword chuckled, tossing a grenade in between his hands, "Did you hear that brothers? Leonidus has a hobby! I would have never guessed he did."
Kalgorn Tyricus kneeled with his multi-melta, "Of course he does, I've seen him visit the… whatever it was called on the Mater Lachrymarum."
"Minor Sanctus?" Eno grumbled.
"No, that one is… was on the Clad in Ire." Aetheris joined in, a small smirk forming under his helmet at the aspect of fraternizing with his Battlebrothers. "What you are mistaking it for is the Librarius."
Leonidus sighed, "Just because I'm studious does not make my point any less true."
"I didn't imply that," Eno responded with a slithery whisper, "I'm merely… asking for clarification."
Leonidus nodded, poking at one of the bodies. His finger simply dug into it, without the need for force either. "See, this right here. It's rotten. Dead. Has been dead for quite some time. Light also vanished from their heads when they walked, being sucked in like… a black hole? If there's anything I know of the warp, and I do know some, they must be warp related or adjacent. Maybe. I'd need more study material to truly understand it."
Eno turned his head away in disgust, "Some things are better left forgotten and ignored. I will not hesitate to shoot you should you be corrupted, brother."
"Always the doom and gloom one, aren't you Eno?" Igallon placed the grenade back on his armor, holding a helping hand for Leonidus to grab. Leonidus eagerly grasped it, raising up without much need for it, but appreciating the gesture nonetheless.
"As if I can't! Must I remind all of you how far we have strayed from our Chapter? We barely survived the Tyranid swarm, unluckily thrust into the warp on our escape vessel, and so very rarely did we receive luck only to be found by our esteemed Rogue Trader, filth as he is, in the middle of the Segmentum Obscurus! He uses us and promises us sweet nothings so that we may be–"
"That is enough, Eno." Aetheris sternly patted Eno's shoulder pauldron, a stern glare transferring from one red visor to the other.
Eno shook his hand off, scoffing as he turned towards the savior pod, trudging off and immediately keeping an eye on their surroundings.
"Aetheris, if I may have a moment of your time?" Leonidus asked, standing up with his arms crossed.
"What is it this time?"
"We are being watched," Leonidus responded calmly through his vox system, making sure nothing else could hear
All Battlebrothers slightly tensed up at that proclamation but continued to act in discreteness.
"I've seen nothing around… is this one of your 'feelings' again?"
Leonidus nodded, "Exactly right. I am not sure by what means, but something watches us from afar. Whether it be witch, daemon, friendly or foe is up for endless hours of debate, but I suggest we move forward into the ice. We cannot stay here, especially with our attackers' state of decay. We must find the source, hopefully end it and if not, then we call upon our Rogue Trader to supply us with the means of getting rid of it."
Aetheris wordlessly agreed, knowing the Lord-Captain forces were likely spread too thin and he was doing whatever he could to reclaim his cargo, men, and anything else that fell from orbit. Rescue would not be coming by vox, as luck would have it that their vox-caster was destroyed in the crash. Damnable Curse of the Lamenters...
Aetheris briefly went into the savior pod, grabbing a satchel full of spare munitions. He clanged on the entrance of the pod as he left, gathering their attention "Brothers, we move inward into the snow. Leonidus, carry this, I shall find our path. In the Emperor's name, we will rid this place of its corruption."
The remnants of their Tactical squad said nothing, for there was no need to. They simply formed into a marching order and trudged into the taiga.
They, however, did not see the fragmented spirit of ice blue, watching them in the falling snow.
Rhodes Island was in various states of disarray and preparation, as the massive landship was currently docked near a crash site of that floating city that fell from the sky. They were near Columbia's territory as it happened, and better yet, they were mostly alone to conduct their investigations.
An area of the wastelands had been hit with just enough material to be a useful investment of resources and time—or so Kal'tsit had told him. What that meant to the good Doctor, he had no idea, but he wouldn't mind a little sightseeing.
The Doctor was currently in his regular attire, a cloaked figure in a black jacket with the sigil of a white triangle directly on his back—the words Rhodes Island directly under the symbol of a rook chess piece. His face was obscured by his hoodie and mask, as was most of everything under his suit. He looked more like a specter than a human to everyone around him, but others knew of him more as an actual ghost from the past…
He had his hands in his pockets, standing near his tent around the scavenging site. Around the area were a multitude of Rhodes Island staff, mainly engineers and researchers salvaging the destroyed remains of this weird gray flightcraft. Some of them were former Rhine Lab staff from Columbia, who were extremely interested in retrieving new research material.
Doctor, or Doc as he called himself—he didn't know his actual name, that had been lost to his amnesia and he wasn't sure when it'd show itself—had been both ecstatic and worried about these aliens. Kal'stit was… less amused, and much more stern now.
This wasn't good; It meant he couldn't annoy her as much, which was a shaaaame. She was also much, much busier, and that meant she was truly and utterly worried about this. It slightly unnerved both him and Amiya, but they understood her reasoning.
"Ah Doctor, now isn't this a surprise." came the wizened robotic tone of an all too distinct voice to the Doctor. The "robot" whirred to a stop next to him, his navigation module floating nearby.
Doctor turned with a smile, "Oh hey Friston, how's it goin'? I wasn't expecting you here, considering how much Closure tends to just, uh, modify you."
Friston stared at the Doctor with a monocular red eye under his lens, his expression a flat eyebrow drawn on the display. His body was cube-like and drove on four wheels. In all manner of terminology, he was more an A.I. than any type of robot. Even then, he was more than that to the Doctor, as it felt like he was talking with a lost piece of history—his own species.
"I had the fortune of escaping that troublesome vampire's clutches to see this for myself. After all, she was given the order to salvage the remains of this crash site by Kal'stit; I shall have to thank her when I can. Truly, this is a curiosity worth researching. From what I've observed in the last few hours, they are an incredibly advanced and highly dangerous. Space faring, but likely not as advanced as... what we once had. Still, they hold monumental advancements compared to the civilizations of this Era. I cannot compute whether they arrived due to my old signal, due to Kristen fulfilling her goal, or on random chance. Whether that is positive or negative remains to be seen."
Friston's mounted camera flashed, taking a photograph of the aircraft with film immediately developing. This downed aircraft was being swarmed by multiple Rhodes Island, who were trying to break it apart for easier transportation. Well, trying wasn't quite the right word. They were struggling, as the armor proved stronger than anything they could cut into. Mechanist especially, the Elite Operator struggling to slice into the metal, even with the robotic arm on his back.
The pilot of this craft was the biggest surprise they discovered. He looked human… and had died—any and all secrets taken with him to the grave. His lightning-fast autopsy report denoted no discernable features available for his exact species. He had no tail, no horns, no feathers, nothing. However, because of the human's featurelessness, it reminded Doctor of his encounters with the Rainbow Six crew, wherever they currently are.
The only thing left on the dead body was a weapon. A pistol that seemed similar to a Columbian directed-energy handgun—at least that's what Doc immediately thought upon seeing it. It was carefully placed into a lockbox and shipped away to Rhodes Islands engineering department for further experimentation.
"Doctor, I am curious, what is your opinion on this matter?"
Doctor shrugged, "Honestly, I've got no clue. I mean… they're human? Probably? I haven't talked to 'em yet, y'know, so it's not like I can give you an opinion. This thing kinda does look like a VTOL though…"
"A fair point, a fair point… perhaps it has a computer I can access to gather more information for us to use. Surely, it must have some way of downloading its logs… Take care Doctor, we shall meet again shortly."
The Doctor watched as Friston drove off towards it, purposely bumping into Closure. Doctor chuckled as the short head engineer yelped in surprise from Friston, only to then immediately try and grab the chassis of the S-C Model. With nothing left to do, the Doctor decided to take a closer look at another piece of wreckage.
After a period of walking, he was alone, with no one around except an innocent-looking puddle of water near him, completely still. It sat below a gigantic chunk of metal—mostly just scrap plating similar to a landships exterior hull.
Doctor took one look at the puddle, thinking nothing of it, looking upward. He stared at the blistering sun for a second until something in the corner of his vision moved, causing him to look back at the small water source. Which was in a notably dry area, now that he thought about it. Doc felt the air tense in a certain way as if he'd just caught someone trying to be sneaky.
There could only be one person who used water, especially one he liked to be around.
"Wait a minute… Muelsyse? Is that you?"
The puddle didn't respond, almost making Doc second guess his intuition. Suddenly, it warbled for a bit, before Muelsyse emerged from it with a splash. She wore her white laboratory clothes from Rhine Lab with all the green highlights, as well as her lengthy brown skirt and gray shirt. In one arm was her umbrella; in the other, her inactive stave. The water rippled as her black rubber boots stood in the water, her form leaning towards him. Her flowing hair was a light shade of brown, with pointed ears peeking out from under two long bangs.
Muelsyse smirked happily, amber eyes gleaming at him, "Wowie Doc, I didn't think you'd recognize me!"
"Random guess. I wasn't exactly expecting you to be here." Doc tilted his head, "Am I speaking to a water clone or the real deal."
Muelsyse rolled her eyes, "Aw, c'mon, where's the fun in that Doc!"
"It's good to see you Muelsyse. Why didn't you just travel here with us?"
"Well, unfortunately, I'm a lil' stuck at the moment back in my department."
"...For ecology?"
"Oh no, not really, more like making sure everyone is doing their jobs. Kristen left a huge hole when she left… um, literally," Muelsyse said, somberly gazing into the new hole in the sky. "And now, well, I hope she didn't encounter these visitors from out there. Who knows who they truly are." Muelsyse sighed, pouting "And then the president's been hounding Rhine Lab to start ramping up our production schedule and sending out more scavenging teams. It's just been one big mess after a whole city decided to crash onto Terra."
The Doctor stared into the sky as well, a hand removing itself from his pocket.
Muelsyse smirked as she took advantage of this, grabbing hold of his hand with a light blush, "Let's go see what else crashed here! It'll be like a little adventure!"
Doc let himself be dragged. This was going to be a new chapter in his life, he only hoped it would be for the good of humanity and not like… last time.
In the mountainous terrain of Kjerag, was half of a crashed cargo bay from the Clad in Ire, buried under ice and rock. Nearby was a valkyrie which had made a similarly unsmooth landing, being somewhat sunk into the snow. It wasn't crashed, per se, but it would be unusable for now.
Nearby were the 106th Thunderbirds, clad in dark gray carapace armor that covered them head-to-toe. Their helmets were specially modified to include the long Thunderbird skulls of their ice planet, Niflheim. They wore long cloaks made of various feathers, each from a Thunderbird they had hunted to prove themselves worthy. The skull sockets glowed silvery white, a lens underneath that provided them with visibility even in the harshest of conditions. On their backs were energy packs for their hellguns, primed and ready to light up anything that so much as dared move. Despite being far from home, they were in their favored environment, and that made them all the more fearsome to fight.
However, even as perceptively skilled as they were, they couldn't notice their silent observer watching them from the treeline.
Kjarr was staring at them from a strong branch, sitting and swinging her legs. She had no idea who they were, but they were creepily similar to the Tschäggättä that Enciodes employed, and from that, she surmised they were just as well-equipped.
The most curious item these humanoid visitors from another realm carried were their weapons. She knew they were some sort of firearm, as she had enough Sankta visitors from Laterano visit the snow realm. But, Sankta were distinguished by their angelic appearance, having wings of light and a halo overhead.
These humanoids had none, yet looked ready to unleash ranged fury.
They also seemed to be able to communicate without talking, as they held conversations without any indicator other than a few points, glances, and body language.
Kjarr had no idea whether they could communicate telepathically, but they were from someplace other than Terra, so that wasn't out of the realm of possibility.
But… they were on her land, and she didn't like guests who dropped in from the sky and were especially mean-looking. She tolerated them for now, but should they harm any of her people in her realm…
Kjarr simply waited for whatever it was they were going to do. She'd already informed Enya and Enciodes about this, and decisions were currently being discussed on whether to make a delegation to meet them or to ignore them. It would be a lengthy conversation with the Paleroche's and Browntail's, though it would likely be in council and advice on how to interact with them.
After all, this historical event would accelerate the project on Mount Karlan's back even further, as well as the one underneath her… err, Kjeragandr's statue.
Whichever the case on the decision, Kjarr only hoped that these foreign travelers could be conversed with.
She disappeared from the treeline as one of these soldiers looked up, leaving only the icy wind behind in her trail.
On the shoreline were bits and pieces of the Clad in Ire, but this was no ordinary wreckage site. It had done something the Iberians never chanced. It had disturbed the ocean close by, and from within it, there were some things better left alone…
It was a calm evening, with the sun setting on the horizon, causing a purple sky to loom over. Dark clouds burbled above, lightning thundering. The only sound was the crashing waves of the shore, and the loud clanging of metal coming from a container.
It was too loud. Too angry. A source of… food. To assimilate. To welcome it to the Many.
Amidst the waves of the ocean, were the curious beings of the Many, rising to find what had disturbed the shores with its raucous booms. They chittered and screeched in wonder, and crawled upon a multitude of tentacled limbs. Their skin was slippery and white like bone or as blue as the sea it spawned from. But among the Sea Terrors stood one taller than the rest, standing on two limbs with a hunched-over form.
It had abandoned its name long ago, but a fragmented sense of individuality remained, and this Seaborn was keen on keeping it that way. It chittered in gibberish, calling for the Sea Terrors to gather near the banging metal box.
Near the site were various other wreckage, which reminded the lone Seaborn of the sunken Iberian warships scattered among the ocean floor, now a breeding ground to birth more Sea Terrors… and to welcome more into the loving arms of We Many.
There was something similar to a coffin nearby embedded within the sand, which had a dull violet glow from the carved sigil on its black metal. The symbol was unidentifiable, but not indescribable. It was a circle, with a crescent-shaped line sprouting from the top. Directly from the side were two lines directed outward, two lines just below going diagonally away, and one lone line falling to the bottom of the box. It was shimmering, but the noises from the large container drew the Seaborn's attention away from it.
An angered screech came from within the profusely clanging box, causing the Seaborn to tilt his head in awe.
Whatever was inside was desperately trying to get out. The box seemed heavily reinforced, as well as having some parts evidently missing. It was weakened enough to break.
The creature inside finally clawed through, causing scraps of metal to be flung away, one larger chunk smacking the black coffin directly with a loud clang.
A claw grabbed onto the side of the opening, then another, and then another! And then the creature rose from its confinement, staring directly at the Seaborn with a wide grin as it hopped down.
It immediately scuttled towards the black coffin for cover with lightning speed, faster than most of the things the Seaborn had seen. Now… now the Seaborn wanted this creature to join the ranks of We Many. It would be a valuable ally in liberating Terra from its torment.
The creature hissed as it stood up, directly opposing the creatures of the deep with four impossibly sharp claws, standing on two legs. Its long tongue flicked out from its bulbous head in defiance, the ridges of its head identical to its slim exoskeleton.
This creature stared deeply into the Seaborn, causing the Seaborn to tilt its head in curiosity. A second mind began to invade the Seaborn's mind, trying to lull the Seaborn into a state of passivity.
The Seaborn let out a huff of genuine awe, causing the creature to softly scratch its head in confusion on why its psychic hypnotization wasn't working.
Rather than one voice responding to the alien, the numerous calls of We Many responded in turn, causing the creature to physically recoil. It was the call of millions, all rejoicing in love and interest, welcoming the newcomer to join them. It would be this fateful day, on this lonely shore, that two separate hive-mind species were making first contact with each other.
The Seaborn outstretched its hand, with Sea Terrors making their approach to assimilate. These pawns were to be consumed and to nourish their newly made friend into their ranks.
But before the Seaborn could welcome in their new kin, the black coffin suddenly sprouted in bright violet light, before the hatch hissed, sliding off. The alien on Terra's sand jumped backward, not expecting that at all while the Seaborn wondered if this newcomer would be welcomed into the arms of the Many.
A metallic hand grabbed the side of the coffin, raising the body of the being inside. Metallic red beetles poured out of the coffin into the ground, and from it, a skeleton of pure crimson metal rubbed its head in a daze. The monocular eye bore a violet haze of light, along with matching lights inside its skeletal frame. It was decorated in the finest of black plates, almost flowing off like a hood on its spine. It had two of the same colored ridges extending from the sides of its head.
"I thought I had asked to not be disturbed, Lord… Kharosh?" It angrily asked, trailing off as it looked around confusedly. The hand holding the side of the coffin clenched, completely cracking it in fury. Multiple beetles burrowed into the sand in seconds, like a tide of rust.
"Where. Am. I?"
The purple alien hissed, drawing its attention as it took a step backward.
"Die, pest."
The metal skeleton pointed at it, and from underneath the creature, a swarm of metal beetles unexpectedly broke through the ground. They enveloped the screeching and hissing alien like a locust swarm. It tried to retaliate, slicing and tearing open some of these metal insects, but more simply replaced them.
The Seaborn tore its eyes away from the dying creature being dissected alive, looking at the mechanical being. This one had just killed its potential ally! But, We Many did not discriminate. This one must join the ranks! The Sea Terrors glid forward from the Seaborn's command, chittering and screeching in delight.
The skeletal body rose, but no legs stood from the coffin. Instead, a swarm of the same beetles held the torso upright, hovering in place as they crawled in a pile to support the torso. The plates flowed in the wind as a baleful violet eye sneered in disgust at the Seaborn.
"You would dare disgrace me with your presence? You are all beneath me, for I am the Grand Scarab Lord, Erizykan, the Shadowmancer of Ubjarok, the puppeteer of trillions! I have built my Tomb World from the ground up only to serve my fool of a lord, but I do not serve! I wrapped him under my fingertips for eons, danced him like a puppet for my entertainment, and you would dare think you have the sliver of a chance to win this?" Erizykan hissed in anger, holding a hand out to his side.
A tendril of scarabs descended from his form, grabbing a long staff from the coffin. Erizykan angrily tightened his fingers around the bar, wisps of ink flowing off of it. The staff lit up, before a pitch-black blade formed in the shape of a long scythe on both sides. The dual-headed scythe had trails of shadow seeping off of it, blots of darkness evaporating as they hit the ground.
"Know the brilliance of the void, worthless vermin."
Erizykan pointed the tip of the staff towards the Seaborn.
The Seaborn's vision turned to nothingness, and soon, its consciousness faded from existence, black ooze sputtering from every orifice as it dropped dead.
"You shall all fear my name, for it will be the last thing your pathetic, miserable lives shall ever hope to recall."
Hm, would you look at that, I have people commenting on my posts. Well, would be a ignorant if I didn't speak on the ones that had some effort put into them.
Guest from Chapter 3: Yes, that would be a shame if something cult-like was happening on the ship. Or, maybe some of the crew are just insane from traveling from the warp for so long. Who knows except the crew there or the 106th reclaiming lost ground.
Evernesx, chapter 5: Thanks man, glad you are. Lucky 12 is honestly a proud invention i've tinkered with the specifications on, though this is Faust speaking from personal opinion, not me. He loves that Taurox, so he places it higher than a Taurox Prime regardless of what it has available—some parts obviously lacking, others improved upon. It's more so a variant rather than a direct upgrade. As for Otto... some of his major backstory is already set. I'll give you a hint on what he is; revisit Chapter 3's meeting. Finally, i actually had this chapter already in the works, believe it or not.
I'll have to separate this line for the response as a slight reminder for everyone on the direction I'm steering this. While this chapter, and some sparse future ones, will have multiple viewpoints, the story is still going to be focusing—mostly—on Faust's escapades on Terra and establishing himself as the Imperium's representative. There will be other factions interacting with him and his crew, and I'll get to that too in future chapters, but if I were to go into detail about how every faction is reacting to them, I'd have a lot to cover. But for now, those like Rhodes Island who aren't close by will be in the background, as they all have their own agendas to uphold. I will give you some peace of mind. Expect Chapter 7 to be the earliest interaction between Faust and another Faction, with 6 being... a different type of encounter. Also... Arknights lore is somewhat bonkers, and there's soooo much I can do with it in this crossover fic due to similarities, as I just did with the Seaborn as one example. Look up on it, you may enjoy it. Toodles.