Author's Note: There are currently two advance chapters on P-atreon (remove the spaces and dash): p-atreon/ SkySage24
A King could suffer no equals.
It was a tale as old as time, older than even the War in Heaven. When two Kings met, a struggle for supremacy was inevitable, and only one could emerge as the victor.
Reality, of course, often disagreed. Kings were often forced to co-exist, unable to muster the power and authority necessary to crush their rivals into line.
Asuryan had been forced to tolerate her father's excesses, for Khaine was too mighty for even the Phoenix King to bring to heel. Asuryan had forced Khaine to be cautious, to step more carefully and to restrain his desires where he might otherwise have let them run rampant, but the reverse was also true. The two of them had existed in an uneasy balance, unable to either destroy their rival or force their submission.
But even that had only come about after an initial clash, after they had forced each other into a stalemate.
When it came to a meeting of Kings where one was mightier than the other, no such thing was possible.
The moment she laid eyes on Kelbor-Hal, Isha knew that the Emperor's hope that Mars would submit willingly was futile.
The gleaming silver figure cloaked in ornate robes of black and crimson reeked of pride. It only took a glance for her to read him, to see him down to his very soul. But it was not as if she needed that to understand him.
He had chosen to greet them in the heart of one of the Mechanicum's shipyards and everywhere Isha looked, there were hundreds of vessels equal to and larger than the Aetos Dios bristling with weapons capable of scouring continents. Legions of…skitarii, Isha believed they were called, had been arrayed around them, armed to the teeth, standing in motionless silence behind their master.
And they were not alone. Strategically scattered between the skitarii formations were mechanical walkers that towered over even the Custodes, cruder and rougher than what her children would have employed, but still recognizable as war machines built along the same principles. Knights, the Emperor called them.
But even the Knights were dwarfed utterly by the iron giants that loomed over their meeting, the smallest of them easily as tall as the Emperor and the largest a behemoth so massive that it cast a shadow across the entire shipyard, blocking the artificial beacons that glimmered in the sky overhead. It could have picked up the Emperor and ground him to dust in one hand…if the Emperor were not a god in his own right.
This must be one of the famous Titan Legions of Mars. The Emperor had spoken of them, how they were easily the most formidable ground forces the Mechanicum had to offer, war machines that even the Space Marines and Thunder-Warriors would struggle against.
Isha was unimpressed.
It was a formidable gathering of force, to be sure, but Isha had seen better. More importantly, it clearly demonstrated Kelbor-Hal's mindset.
This was a conqueror in his own right, one who had fought his way to the top of the Mechanicum with a mixture of force and guile, who hungered now for greater conquests still.
Kelbor-Hal believed fervently in the superiority of his people, of himself. He was convinced beyond doubt that their beliefs and their superiority justified any excess, any atrocity.
He also believed that he could cow the Emperor into submission with petty shows of force like this, with the implicit threat of unleashing his iron legions upon the Imperium.
Isha had known countless beings like him over the aeons, from Necron Overlords and Eldar Princes who carved bloody paths across the stars, to petty warlords of primitive races who had not yet escaped the confines of their birth worlds.
Such a proud man would never bend a knee to the Emperor willingly. Even if he was made to kneel, he would forever burn with resentment and hatred, searching for a way to escape his chains.
Good.
Perhaps the Emperor would accede to properly breaking and leashing the Mechanicum. Oh, Isha doubted he would agree to shatter this empire of slavers outright as she wished, but perhaps he would finally see that they needed to be defanged and made to release their victims.
…well. A goddess could dream.
For now, however, the Emperor greeted Kelbor-Hal with a smile, even though he was no doubt aware of everything that Isha was.
"Hail, Fabricator-General," The golden king said, pearly white teeth flashing, and if Isha did not know him better, even she would have thought it was genuine. "I am delighted to accept your invitation for a summit."
"Emperor of Terra," Kelbor-Hal acknowledged stiffly, far less genial in his greeting but at least managing to remain civil.
Shame. It would have been amusing to see him lash out at the Emperor, and the Emperor's reaction, but that was unfortunately unlikely.
For a long, terse moment the Master of the Mechanicum and the Lord of Terra sized each other up, gazes calculating. Kelbor-Hal seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from the Emperor, for the latter to at least look at the massive forces that had come to greet him, but the Emperor simply continued smiling, his gaze never wavering from the Fabricator-General.
Finally Kelbor-Hal spoke. "Very well. Let us begin."
The Emperor's smile flickered imperceptibly. "Here? Should we not speak inside?" His voice was layered with a suggestion, one that would have persuaded even the most ornery individuals.
Yet Kelbor-Hal laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed across the yard. "You seem to be operating under a misconception here, Emperor," He sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he spoke the title. "You are not here for a peace summit."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "You sent me a message saying you were open to negotiations."
"A lie," Kelbor-Hal dismissed contemptuously. "One you were naive enough to believe. I truly did not think it would be so easy to deceive you, but here you are, having placed yourself in my hands so willingly. So eager were you to believe that I was willing to treat you as an equal."
"I see," The Emperor said impassively. "Then why are we here?"
"We are here to discuss the terms of your surrender," Kelbor-Hal said, oozing certainty and arrogance with every word. "You will bend the knee, swear fealty to me, and turn over the STC you have found. In exchange, I will permit you to leave this place alive and continue to rule your petty little "empire" on Terra, as long as you pay tribute and cease further expansion. These are the best terms I am willing to give you, so I recommend you accept them before I decide to be less generous."
The Emperor said nothing.
Are you ready? Isha heard his voice speak to her through the Immaterium, unheard by anyone else.
Of course, I am. She scoffed. This is exactly what we expected.
Indeed.
"I am afraid those terms are unacceptable, Kelbor-Hal. Are you certain you do not wish to negotiate?"
The Fabricator-General growled. "I have made myself clear. Are you truly so stupid, barbarian? Do you think you have any room to demand anything here?"
Isha's frown deepened. She could feel the Emperor's aura pressing against Kelbor-Hal's mind, yet the Fabricator-General seemed strangely unaffected.
What was going on?
The Emperor sighed. "No. I must confess, I am disappointed, but I expected this much."
For the first time, Kelbor-Hal seemed caught off-guard. "What?"
"I said, I expected this," The Emperor said calmly, even as veins of golden lightning spread through the dark clouds above like fire, and his eyes became like molten gold. The thunder that followed the lightning punctuated the Emperor's next words rather than drowning them out. "If you are not willing to negotiate Kelbor-Hal, then I must use a language you can understand. And believe me when I say that this army you have gathered here? It is not enough to stop me."
But Kelbor-Hal recovered quickly, even now unshaken by the Emperor's words. "That's what you think, barbarian. You may be a powerful psyker, but I knew you might not see reason. So I came prepared. Did you think I did not know you would try to influence my mind, barbarian?"
The Emperor's eyes widened ever so slightly and Isha felt a spark of alarm light in her heart. But before she could say anything, she felt it.
The Mechanicum's Titans stirred to life, glowing crimson runes suddenly burning along their iron skin, the false eyes blazing with black fire.
The air was filled with the stench of corruption, like the smell of a rotten nerve in a cracked molar as a dark presence revealed itself. Isha's jaw clenched as she recognized who it was, anger simmering inside her heart.
"Welcome, Anathema, Lady Lifebringer," Bel'akor First-Damned spoke from the mouth of the largest of the Titans, the sound of his voice spreading through the fabric of reality like a tumour, making it shriek and writhe in protest. "It is good to see you two again."
Author's Note: I'm sorry for not being very active this month, but various health problems, including a dislocated wrist, have made it difficult for me to write. But I figured I should update at least twice this month even if this chapter is pretty short, so here we go.
For anyone interested, I've started a new project on Spacebattles: A Song of Thunder, a crossover between Legend of Zelda and ASOIAF. If you like Legend of Zelda and/or ASOIAF, please consider checking it out.