Sepherael Bale rose from her slumber exhausted. Since the sky has been torn in two, she's been having the same nightmare. Each night the same vision of people she knew being mutilated, torn apart and devoured by a horde … a horde of Emperors. Not all Emperors looked the same. Some looked like the Holy Lidia Basilica's statues, tall, with long golden hair and determined eyes. Others looked like the Cathedral Elmondis stained glass, shriveled, covered in wires, rusting metal arms, exposed bones and sitting on their golden throne with a red-eye. Finally, some looked like Sephereal Bale church mural painting, skinny, small, and smiling with their arms wide open. Some Emperors were wearing guardsman armor, others were wearing the finest silk, a few preferred the cloth of the scribes and many others donned the garbs of the Ecclesiarchy. All were hungry.
A hunger they could only satisfy by devouring everyone living in Groxfoot City. Every night an army of Emperors tore, bit and chewed on the muscle and fat of everyone Sepherael knew. Every night she was the one dooming them all to this faith. Every night, an army of Emperors surrounding the city walls would face her. They were emaciated and terrified. They all said the same thing, ''please Sister Sepherael Bale! Feed us! We are your Emperor. We've provided for you and now we humbly ask that you feed us!'' in response, all Under Hivers of Groxfoot City implored Sister Bale to not open the gates. She would ignore all their pleas and walk towards her doom. Until Vaz Kor towering figure blocked her path. He was clad in his space marine armor staring at her with tears in his eyes. He would invoke every argument he could think of to convince her to stop, their love, the safety of the city, her faith, her duty. She would dismiss every argument with one simple answer ''we can't abandon them'' and walk around him to reach the gates. Every time she said this, Vaz Kor would grow taller, he stated each of his arguments with more anger in his voice and he would cry until the city was flooded with tears. The minute she opened the door, Vaz Kor would shrink until he could fit in the palm of her hand. Then the Emperors devoured him.
Her dream always ended with an Emperor in a green guardsman uniform with the number 14th sewn on its left chest pocket consuming her entrails.
She always woke up at that moment.
Like every other day when she woke up from this nightmare, she saw the inquisitive eyes of Vaz Kor who's been awake for hours.
He used to ask her how she was. Now he just looked at her hoping today she didn't have that dream.
Like every other morning, she gave him a look of pain he understood so well. He surrounded her with the shield of his warm two-meter-tall muscular body. She used to cry, but she didn't have the energy anymore. They would stay like this in silence as long as Sephereal wanted. Some days that was a few minutes, other hours.
''I have to go, the children need me,'' said Seraphael Bale.
''You're sure?'' asked Vaz Kor.
She held him even tighter.
''No, but I need to go.''
He let her go and she groaned as she was getting up. It was cold today, so she quickly put on her humble ecclesiarch dress, the regular under-dress, her gloves to hide her unnaturally white hands and the imperial veil she has been wearing for ten years. All full of patches of mismatched colors. She got up and walked towards the door.
''Aren't you forgetting something?'' said Vaz Kor to Serephael, while he was setting up the table for breakfast.
''Is my dress on the wrong side again?''
''No, you need to eat.''
''But the…''
''The children need you fully fed and awake. Not collapsing halfway because you didn't eat my imperial pancake.''
''It only happened three times.''
''Four, remember Lorgian burial?''
She didn't want to remember Lorgian burial. Instead, she sat down on an old plastic chair and started devouring the pancakes. Vaz Kor sat on his own chair made of welded steel and melted stubbers. They ate in silence.
The minute Sepherael finished eating; she got up to kiss Vaz Kor and ran to the door to open its five different locks. Outside she witnessed a unique spectacle; the citizens of Grox foot were picking up trash and cleaning up the streets.
This brought a large smile to Sepherael. The council of gang bosses had fulfilled their promises after all. She started walking through Stubber Street saluting anyone picking empty bullet casing, fossilized Grox shit, broken glass or bones. Others were setting up posters for the play The Red Queen and the Emperor. A very popular play recounting the arrival of the Emperor on Sierra Segundus. Some were grumpy doing menial tasks, but the majority were pleased to see Seraphael Bale and saluted her. They would come to her to know when the play would happen or to share how excited they were to see their children play the role of the holy tree, the hungry Grox or one of the nine divines Primarchs. She would always answer their questions by indicating how young Letia was an excellent singer, Belath played an impeccable Leman Russ or that Philmus was trying very hard to say their lines properly.
Each of her answers was given with a smile that seemed to melt away the worries of all parents who came to her.
As she was navigating the worries of her community, Serapheal Bale was also crossing the labyrinthic streets of Groxfoot only familiar to those who have spent years there. No street signs were present to identify one crooked street from another, but for Serapheal Bale it was all clear. She could easily tell the difference between Stubber Street, Weeding way or Ole Pete Hole because she knew each street story. Stubber Street is where a rival gang shot Boss Ogg Chalek 28 times; Wedding way is where the first human mutant couple was officially married; Ole Pete's Hole is where the town drunk, Ole Pete, somehow slept a whole night on an unexploded shell from the Horus Heresy days. The minute he walked away from it, the shell exploded, leaving a large crater still present today. Ole Pete is often seen sleepsing in that hole.
Crossing each of these streets was like entering the mighty fortress of a Red Baron. You first had to signal your intent to cross the street to an armed ganger. Next, the ganger would make sure you were unarmed. Afterwards, you would negotiate an appropriate tax to pass through. Then, you had to pay respect to the owner of that street. Once you paid respect to the local gang-boss, you could move on without any problem. For Upper Hivers who can cross-vast Hives in mere minutes using celeritas train and speed elevators, this may seem like barbaric backwardness. For the people of Groxfoot it was a guarantee of safety. Knowing each local boss meant they would not shoot you. Likewise, the taxes one had to pay to cross each street were not in money, but in promises. Promise to help fix a door, attends a dinner, spy on a possible imperial plant, listen to bad poetry, keep watch during a raid or help carry heavy boxes of White gloves. A local drug made of mashed psychotropic mushrooms that gave a strong feeling of satisfaction when it entered in contact with the skin. It had the unfortunate side effect of slowly removing the pigmentation of the part of the body it touched, turning it pale white, hence white gloves.
Seraphael Bale could be considered rich since everyone in Groxfoot owed her several promises. Her unmatched memory also helped her recall exactly what was promised and in what form. Some Gang boss avoided her for fear she would remind them of a promise long forgotten. As such, her crossing of the streets to Saint Elmund Boniface church was uneventful. She thanked each Gang boss who would meet her and reminded them politely that they promised to contribute to the play. Some grumbled, all complied.
Except for one Gang Boss named Zart Backstabber. Zart really didn't like the fact Serephael was asking for a contribution when Lorgan Bigfoot had gotten his son to play Lorgar, while his kid was reduced to playing Felinia the spirit of the forest. The role may be important, but the kid did have to dress up as a cardboard tree.
''An unacceptable insult Sister! Bigfoot's son can't even spell Emperor, while my Irma can flawlessly recite the Holy Will of the Emperor in High Gothic,'' said Zart.
''I have heard their recitation and they like to insert High Gothic swear words at the end of every sentence,'' answered Seraphael Bale.
''Bloody genius right hahaha!''
''I can appreciate your enthusiasm Zart, but this is His Holy word. ''
''Come on Sister, the empire's word ain't worth much for us. ''
''I have no love for the empire either, Zart, but The Emperor's Holy word isn't the same as the incompetent high born who hunt us for sport. It is the light that guides us through the darkness; it is the love that saves us from hate and it is hope in these desperate times.''
''Perhaps, but I do not need hope, I need power. When my Irma is a farcking shrub, I lose power.''
''How about Irma playing Horus instead? They would be perfect to capture the role of the betraying son.''
''You think Irma can do it? ''
''Without a doubt and Linius caught the Flaxian flu so I need a good actor to replace him.''
''Did you plan this Sister? ''
''It's a coincidence. ''
''I know where you come from Sister. You may eat like us, dress like us and shit like us, but you don't think like us. You will always try to rule us.''
''Is that so? ''
''You're getting us to celebrate an emperor I have no love for, like the good little workers slaving above. ''
''But he loves you, Zart. He loves us all!''
''Would you say this place has been made with love? ''
''He gave us the power to make it loving. We simply failed Him, but with faith we…''
Zart rolled his eyes annoyed by this unprompted sermon.
''I see you once again refuse His light. Does Irma playing the role of Horus preserve your status?''
''It does.''
''Do you grant me passage through your street? ''
''I do. ''
''I thank you for your protection. ''
''Pleasure is mine. ''
Serephael humbly bowed and left Zart's home.
Once she was far enough from the Gang Boss home, she started running. Her little talk with Zart had taken too much time. She dodged without mercy three mothers who came to waste her time with needless prattle, avoided a gang of locals carrying boxes of white gloves and jumped over Ole Pete Hole with incredible ease. She was tired, but reached the front of Saint Elmund Boniface church unpolished rock façade layered with posters for The Red Queen and the Emperor.
A statue of the Emperor guarded its entrance. It was made of dark crude steel for the body and cheap tinted glass for the eyes. It was staring at Seraphael Bale with a forgiving look; his arms spread wide welcoming her within His home; he was wearing a purple tunic with a pink wig. Seraphael Bale used to love this tradition of dressing up the Emperor, now she avoided His gaze. She entered through a side door to avoid the crowd of impatient parents gathering in front of the church. She the usual smell of cheap incense and wet carpet hung in the air. She walked on the hall of her church towards the small stage they built under at the end of the church. Each step she took would land on the name of a life snuffed out by the unending mutant hunts, plagues or gang wars that ravaged Groxfoot. All those names were scraped, scribbled, painted or welded from floor to ceiling. All under the roof of a church that should have collapsed centuries ago under the crushing weight of the hive city looming above. Instead, it sank in the mud.
Seraphael noticed her actors standing on large stage made of condensed fungus, draped in a large curtain of mismatching fabric. Two dozen kids from 12 to 15 years old were doing what most kids their age would do. Not practicing their lines. She quickly put an end to that and gave her final advice to everyone before the play started.
Phelas, don't forget Sanguinius holds his holy sword on the left hand; Belath sings from the stomach, not the throat; Maria please adjust your flame costume.
Her advices were answered by the nervous looks from kids who didn't fully listen, but complied.
Except for Irma who was shocked to learn they had to play has Horus who has so many lines of dialogues. They clearly hope they would could play Leman Russ instead which allowed them to say nothing while looking good in a cardboard armor. Seraphael Bale managed to convince them they would be perfect for the role if they apply themselves. They already knew the lines since she had practice with Linius in the past. They only needed to play the part where the Emperor wears their armor and Linius will cover the Old man role. Irma accepted this arrangement with reluctance, but still took the time to say a few high gothics swears no one except Seraphael could understand
Once Seraphael felt satisfied with her talk with her actors, she focused on the last arrangement for the stage. So many things needed her approval; the lights had to be set in the right place, the starry background she specially ordered just arrived and had to be set up and the animatronic of the Emperor was still having issues on its wiring. Seraphael Bale was in her element.
It reminded her of when she used to play in the most prestigious theatres of the sector. Entertaining thousands in flawless performances bending minds and senses. It felt like forever ago for Seraphael Bale, the glory, the wealth, the applause, the lies, the abuses, the feeling of emptiness and the white glove.
She pushed aside those old memories and helped set up a few extra chairs since she heard some Gangboss were bringing in more followers than expected. Once the last plastic was installed, she finally gave the sign to open the church doors.
First, the local gang boss entered with their followers, mutant bodyguards and lovers. They all sat in the front row seats. They were all wearing the most extravagant armors, dresses and clothes one could afford in this hole. Most of it was new and the majority of the gold was not fake. Following this group of respectable characters, a disorderly crowd entered, everyone rushing to sit on a dirty plastic chair, the upper balcony, the floor or in some cases on the back of other spectators. The crowd was filled with people with too many eyes, long teeth, rock-like skin and complex patchwork of clothes. Mutants alongside ''normal'' people without anyone raising any concern. The church was bursting to the brim with people.
They were all yelling over one another. Expressing pleasure seeing a friend or anger at meeting a rival. Some were haggling over what promises to give for a nice pair of stolen boots or agreeing on fixing the roof of someone's home in exchange for some quick fun. They were exchanging promises at a dizzying speed. One would have believed it was a marketplace instead of His holy home.
Seraphael Bale decided to bring back some order in His house. She took a deep breath and went to face her fear.
She walked on the stage for the first time in ten years. Thousands of eyes were staring at her like predators. Dark spots were appearing in her eyes, her hearth was beating ten times faster than normal and the sounds a thousand of voices were bouncing back and forth in her head.
She clenched her fist, called on His love and took the time to focus on specific faces. The dark sport receded and her heartbeat steadied.
''People of Groxfoot!'' said Seraphael Bale. ''The Emperor, in His immeasurable mercy, has welcomed us in His home. We have a wonderful show for you tonight, but we need silence to perform.''
They ignored her call, but local bosses asked their boys to go to knock some sense into those who were too noisy. It got quiet fast.
''Thank you for your collaboration. The children have worked tirelessly to prepare for this play. The Red Queen and the Emperor is a play as old as our presence on this planet. It tells us how the Emperor brought the light of his love to this world. It is a pillar of Sierra Segundus culture and it is an honor to host its first presentation in Groxfoot. Before we start, I would like to thank all of the Groxfoot community for their support in making sure this Emperor Day to be a success. I especially wish to thank the respectable bosses who have given their time and resources to help us build this stage to His glory.''
The followers of the bosses took the occasion to applaud their leaders and "encouraged" the rest of the crowd to join in. All bosses bowed humbly save for Zarth.
Seraphael waited patiently for the applause to die out and then declared with all the enthusiasm she could fake: ''Now on with the show!''
She walked away from the stage to escape the inquisitive eyes of the audience. The light in the church were turned off. Darkness swallowed His home, then the first notes of Imperatus Ave started playing, and the stage lit up.
THE CURTAINS OPEN