//------------------------------// // 2.09- The Jaws of Cetus: Confrontations // Story: The Empress Returns // by iowaforever //------------------------------// The Jaws of Cetus: Confrontations         Twilight stepped through the portal, pausing for a moment as her eyes adjusted. She was standing on the bank of a river, water rushing alongside her on the left. It was dark, the last few motes of light from the setting sun shining over the water. Ahead, Twilight could see the battered remains of a bridge, leading towards an island over which towered a massive building, the central spire of New Rynn City.         Twilight did not get a chance to gauge where exactly she was before something short and black barreled into her, armor scraping against armor as she was lifted off her feet. “Tara! You’re alive!” Sister Judith squealed, squeezing Twilight tightly in her hug.         “Hi... Judith...” Twilight gasped, wiggling to try and free herself from the Sister’s grasp. Judith did seem to get the message, gently placing Twilight back on the ground as Mattias and the Valhallans stepped out of the portal.         “The Inquisitor’s alive too?! That just makes this even better!” there was a pause before Judith spoke again. “Wait... How did you even get here?! Is this some mysterious psyker power I’m not supposed to know about?”         “We had help.” Mattias said, brushing past Judith. “Where are the others?”         “Manning the defenses on the river bank. Come, I’ll take you to them.” Judith ushered Twilight forward, the small group of humans moving slowly along the bank. Ahead, Twilight could see dozens of makeshift barriers and prefab fortifications, weary Guardsmen hunkering down as they eyed the other side of the river. Twilight’s heart caught as she saw how many were injured, dozens if not hundreds of men and women nursing bloody bandages or rickety splints.         “This is worse than I thought.” she whispered. “What happened?”         “The Tyranids broke through the southern wall with the help of their cultists,” Judith said, her voice soft. “Fortunately an Astartes counter attack held them off long enough for the survivors to finish this line here. There’s been a steady trickle ever since, but that’s something Lord Mir’shen and his psykers have been helping to make sure no infiltrators followed us in.” The Genestealers were already here. Twilight’s heart dropped again. All of their defenses, all their hard work and planning, gone in an instant because of those creatures. And if only she had a little more time...         “Tara?” Twilight was drawn back to reality by Judith’s question. “Is everything alright? I know how you feel about civilians and the losses we’ve taken, but we wouldn’t want to lose you to your despair again.”         “I’ll...” Twilight hesitated. Logic told her to just say she was fine and move on, but with so many lost... “I’ll need some time to myself, but I think I’ll be alright.”         “That’s all we can ask for, I suppose.” It was hard to tell expressions when Judith’s face was hidden beneath her helmet, but Twilight was thankful for the sympathy. There was a pause before Judith perked up again. “Oh, did you know Rebecca’s a Saint now?”         “A what?” Twilight asked, blinking in surprise.         “A Saint!” Judith chirped, all but bouncing on her feet. “She brought Sister Bianca back from the dead and gained some kind of relic! Come on, I’ll show you.”         “I need to report to the acting commander here first,” Mattias said, breaking away from Twilight with his Valhallans in tow. “Though, would you happen to know where Sister Bianca is?”         “She’s tending to some of the wounded further to the north.” Judith said, pointing towards the back of the fortifications before continuing. “I can take you there too if you would like.”         “I think I can manage on my own.” As with that Mattias started off, the Valhallans following close behind. There was a lengthy pause before Judith spoke.         “What’s with the Inquisitor?” she asked. “He seems less personable than usual.”         “I think it’s just stress from the combat,” Twilight said, looking back as the Sister. “Mattias was... well, he was startled by a lot of things on our way here. I think he’ll be fine, though.”         “If you say so, Tara.” Judith said, bouncing on her heels again. “Now come, you need to see Saint Rebecca!”         “Okay...” Twilight did not struggle as Judith took her by the hand and led her further into the fortifications. Around her she saw injured, weary soldiers, Guardsmen leaning against their lasguns and heavy weapons as they stared blankly at her and the far bank of the River Rynn. Some gave her slight nods or a halfhearted salute, but none of the spark she had seen following their arrival on Rynn’s World remained.         No wonder, for Twilight had failed them.         “Sisters! Tara has returned!” Judith called, guiding Twilight forward towards the Sisters. Ruth was the first to step forward, pulling Twilight into a tight hug once she drew close.         “Thank the Empress you’re safe, Tara,” she said. “I have been praying since we arrived here for your deliverance, and She has seen fit to bring you to us in one piece.”         “Thank you, Ruth.” Twilight said, breaking away and giving a quick smile. “Are you alright?”         “Only minor wounds,” Naomi said, coming up behind Twilight. Twilight blinked in surprised to see the Sister Superior’s helmet was missing, but Naomi made no mention of it as she continued. “We were fortunate enough that the Tyranids focused on the Guard and the Astartes rather than us... for what it was worth.”         “I know...” there was a pause before Twilight spoke again. “And then there’s the thing with Rebecca.”         “Right.” Naomi nodded, turning aside So Twilight could see Rebecca and Veronica. The latter was at the barricade, watching over the river with a few Guardsmen, while the former sat with her back to the group. “She has been quite quiet since we arrived, ever since she...” Naomi furrowed her brow. “I am not quite sure what it is, but it is unlike any miracle I have borne witness to.”         “All the more reason she is to be considered a Saint!” Ruth cried, drawing a look from Twilight and Naomi. “... Apologies, Sister Naomi, but you are right and this is a blessing unlike any other. I’m just so happy for my Sister-”         “We know.” Naomi said. “And your passion is quite welcome, just... don’t overwhelm Tara or Rebecca, please.” Ruth nodded in response. Sensing an opportunity, Twilight stepped towards Rebecca, placing a hand on the Sister’s shoulder.         “Rebecca?” Twilight asked. Rebecca turned, her face brightening when she saw Twilight. It was now that Twilight could see the Sister’s left arm was encased in golden armor, a short apparatus resembling Bianca’s narthecium jutting out along her arm.         More importantly, she saw the pink butterfly gem set in the center.         “Tara!” Rebecca said, standing up and giving Twilight yet another hug. “When did you get here? Are you injured? Oh, I had thought you lost when I heard the spaceport had fallen, but to see you standing here-!”         “I know,” Twilight broke from Rebecca’s embrace. “But I’m here now, and I’m alright.”         “Good, good.” Rebecca said before her face fell. “Oh, um... there was the thing about... me being a Saint and all.”         “Right.” Twilight took Rebecca’s arm, examining the narthecium closely. It shimmered with every motion the Sister took, the pink gem gleaming in the low light. It... It can’t be... “How... how did you get this?”         “Sister Bianca was hit by a mutant during the attack.” Rebecca said softly. “I... I tried to do what I could to help her, but... she died Tara.” Rebecca took Twilight by the arm. “She died and there was nothing I could do to stop it! I wanted so badly to help her, to make up for all the times she helped me, and then...” she looked down at the narthecium. “All of a sudden there was a flash and Bianca was healed, and I had this on my arm! And now everyone is calling me a saint because of what I did.”         “Well...” Twilight started, but Rebecca could not be stopped.         “I appreciate that I healed Bianca, but I am no Saint! I’m just a humble Sister in service to the Empress, I have no mind for greatness.” Twilight did not get to say more before Rebecca all but shoved the narthecium into her face. “Please, tell me it isn’t so!”         “Uh...” Twilight examined the narthecium. There was no denying it; Rebecca currently had the Element of Kindness strapped to her arm. Probably not the same one that she currently had hidden in a book back in her library, but it was the Element of Kindness nonetheless.         So many implications, so many chances to study... if only there wasn’t a rampaging horde of alien monsters trying to eat everyone.         “This isn’t something I can just take away,” Twilight said finally, pushing Rebecca’s arm back. “Not even the Empress has control over this.”         “She doesn’t?” Ruth said from behind Twilight. “But why?”         “There are some things out there that are more powerful than even Her, as weird as it sounds sometimes.” Twilight turned to look at the other Sisters. “But this is a good thing; Rebecca has been blessed with a great gift, a gift that could help to bring peace back to the Imperium once and for all.” this drew a whimper from Rebecca, and confused looks from the others.         “How can something be more powerful than the Empress and still be considered good?” Ruth asked.         “Lack of spikes?” Judith offered, a metallic clang ringing out as Ruth smacked the back of Judith’s head.         “I can’t really explain that,” Twilight said before she paused. “... Well, I can try. On my home world there’s a legend of six powerful artefacts called the Elements of Harmony.”         “Odd name,” Naomi said. “What can be so harmonious about them?”         “They were said to represent five great virtues in mankind.” Twilight continued, trying to get the right words to say to the Sisters without saying too much. “Kindness, Generosity, Laughter, Loyalty, and Honesty. When brought together they manifested the sixth artifact, a crown of purest Magic, and from there...” she paused. “From there, the wielders could strike down gods.”         “Gods?!” Ruth breathed. “Only the Empress has that kind of power, and yet you say these artifacts are greater still?”         “Well, she used them once to defeat a spirit of chaos,” Twilight said. “But trying to use them again, the Elements rejected her.”         “Why?! Is not the Empress exemplar of all virtues?” Ruth folded her arms across her chest. “What good can they be if they reject Her Holiness?”         “I have to agree with Ruth,” Naomi said. “These Elements sound like something that cannot be trusted. But we cannot just leave this knowledge sit; if these weapons fall into the wrong hands, I’d hate to think some monster would use them to try and kill the Empress.”         “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about.” Twilight said quickly. “The Elements aren’t weapons, and can’t be wielded by just anyone; if anyone who isn’t a true exemplar of that virtue tries to use one, they’re useless. And they can’t use their full power without the full set.” Twilight looked to Rebecca. “Rebecca, do you want to kill the Empress?”         “No! Never!” Rebecca shook her head. “Why would you even say such a thing?!”         “It was just an example,” Twilight looked back at the others. “See? Nothing to worry about.”         “I will be convinced when I see this for myself,” Ruth said, finally uncrossing her arms. “If these ‘Elements’ are truly as powerful as you say, and as benevolent as you say, they would have all manifested now so that we may slay the Hive Mind and free Rynn’s World.”         “I don’t have control over how the Elements manifest,” Twilight said. “If I did, we’d all have them right now. But we have to work with what we’ve got.” she turned back to the river. She thought she could see Tyranids scrambling around the edges, but at this range it was hard to tell if it was them or just the low light playing with her mind. “Girls, I know things seem bad right now, and I know what I’m saying doesn’t make sense, but you have to trust me. The Elements are good, and they will help us win Rynn’s World.” she turned to the Sisters. “You just have to trust me... please.” there was a lengthy pause, the Sisters looking to one another. Twilight’s spirits fell with every second they remained silent; she could understand a little hesitancy, but the Sisters would not give up so easily... would they?         Finally, Rebecca stepped forward. “I did not ask for this honor,” she said, massaging her arm and the narthecium. “I did not ask to be chosen to bear any ‘Element of Harmony’, and if it is a truly terrible power I wield, I’d rather have none of it.” there was a pause before she spoke again. “But I am a Sister of the Order of Our Martyred Lady. I am no stranger to performing duties I had no intention or desire to do, and I never backed down from them. I will stand by your side, Tara, no matter what becomes of this.”         “As will I.” Ruth said.         “And I.” added Judith.         “And I as well.” Naomi said, stepping up to Twilight. “We all will. For we are soldiers of the Imperium, and we have never backed down before. No matter what powers and evils come against you, we will fight on, no matter what.” Twilight smiled, a small tear forming at the edge of her eyes.         “Thank you, girls.” she whispered. “It... It really means a lot to me.”         “You’re very welcome.” Naomi said. “Now, we have a war to win.” ...         Celestia sat in silence, her chin resting on the blade of her clawed gauntlet. Jonson’s message had been simple, and yet with one message the entire campaign had been thrown into jeopardy.         “Empress,” Jonson had said. “The Rynnsguard has betrayed us. I do not know how, but they have fired on our position and allowed the xenos to advance. We are pulling back to defensive positions and will hold until your arrival. I know not the status of Corax or your student, but I have reason to believe they too are under attack.         “We will hold. Even if none of us are left standing when you arrive, we will hold.”         The message had fallen dead after that. And all Celestia could do was brood.         Genestealers. How could she have overlooked Genestealers? With how much turmoil the Warp was in with the Hive Mind having arrived in force, she had made sure to examine every detail, every stratagem as closely as possible. But even the sheer possibility should have come up in any one of their discussions; the Imperium had been battling the Tyranids for centuries, surely they had learned most of the xenos’ tricks by now.         Or maybe... the thought entered her mind. Maybe the arrogant old fool of the Great Crusade took control and sent two sons and my favored student off to certain death without taking into account all they might face there.         She continued to brood, her chin starting to ache from where it pressed into her armor. Her officers looked to her for guidance, as if some word she would say would make everything right. But with none coming, they continued to watch and wait, doing the barest minimum to keep the battleship coordinated with the rest of the fleet.         Once more, she had failed her sons. Perhaps there was enough time to attack and save them, but the Hive Mind would not allow her through so easily. Rynn’s World was slowly slipping from her grasp, and all she could do was brood.         In fine form today, aren’t we? “How soon can we make the jump to Warpspace?” she asked, lifting her head from her hand. “We can be ready within five minutes, my Empress.” the Astropath on duty said. “We will just need to calculate the jump and take in account any further corrections-”         “No need. I shall be navigating us through,” Celestia said. “Just make sure gellar fields are at full power and our engines are primed. I’ll take care of the rest.”         “But Empress,” the astropath cried. “The Shadow of the Warp is strong, and will grow stronger the closer we get to Rynn’s Word. Do not risk yourself-”         “I am well aware of the risk!” Celestia barked, eyes flashing for a brief moment. “But too many men and women have died while I have sat here and done little more than hold the door to their doom. I am going to take us into the heart of the storm, and we will destroy every Tyranid that dares to move against my people! Make sure all the machinery is in place, and I will handle the navigation.”         “... Yes Empress.” the Astropath nodded meekly, turning back to his subordinates before relaying her orders. Perhaps a bit too harsh, but the situation was precarious enough as it was; a little more force was needed to make sure the officers completed their jobs without too much panicking. Now, to other matters. Celestia leaned back, allowing her psychic powers to reach out through the battleship. As any old piece of machinery around the Imperium, the ship had an incredibly strong Machine Spirit residing within it. It merely considered her an oddity, a powerful but ultimately insignificant passenger traipsing down its halls as many had before. Now that she had directly reached out to command the ship, the Spirit took notice. Like most of its kind, the Machine Spirit could not speak as a human could. Pulses of memories, emotions, flickers of battles and defeats from eons past, all passed before Celestia’s mind, all coming to a central question: who are you? Search your memories, Spirit, She replied, sending out a wave of her own memories. I am she whom your masters call Omnissiah. It was I who laid your keel in the foundries of Mars, who spoke the word that gave you life to command, a thirst for battle. You will submit, and I shall lead you to crush the enemies of Mankind who dare blaspheme against you and your charges. An angry burst of scrapcode and memories of shattered ships greeted her mind. So the Spirit was going to be difficult, then... I am beyond any you have met before, or will meet in years to come, Spirit. Search your memories, for you know you stand before one greater than you. You will submit, and when this task is done I shall release you. More scrapcode, inquisitive this time. You know your enemy, and you have heard my name. I am the Empress, Master of Mankind and all Machines under my banner. For this mission, I am master over this vessel; I do not wish to force you into this, but I will do what I can to save those I love... as you would I suppose. The Machine Spirit has no concept of love, and voiced the same. But to allow aliens and heretics to slaughter your crew, that would be a blemish upon your very being. I will not allow such a thing to happen, to your charges and mine. Of this, we are of the same mind. Will you submit? “Empress,” another Astropath said. “All systems are operational. Is the Machine Spirit willing to accept you?” “... It is.” Celestia said, her voice echoing through the bridge. “Have all hands prepare for Warp Transit. I will plot the course.”         “Yes, my Empress.” Celestia focused, an image of the local region of space forming in her mind. The Machine Spirit would provide some assistance with navigation, lines and paths forming through the gaps in the shadow that led to Rynn’s World. Unfortunately, the Spirit was not the only one to take notice of the plan.         EMPRESS DOES NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT WE ARE ACCOMPLISHING, the dull roar of the Hive Mind echoed through her thoughts. WE BRING UNITY UPON THOSE WITHIN YOUR WORLD. ALL WILL BECOME LIKE US, TO STRENGTHEN THE SWARM.         ... You will die for this. Celestia replied, her soul raging at the thought the alien would think this “beneficial.” You will die screaming, and I will take great satisfaction at watching all that you are burn, for you have threatened my subjects, my student, my sons.         ALL WILL BE CONSUMED. SUCH IS OUR WAY, SUCH IS OUR BEING. EMPRESS CANNOT STALL THIS, CANNOT FIGHT AGAINST THE SWARM.         I will, and you will die. Finally, she found a suitable path to take the fleet through. “I have located the Warpspace Lane. Are we prepared for transit?”         “Yes, my Empress.”         “Good. Have all Astropaths and navigators focus on my signature.” There was a pause, Celestia reaching out through the Warp as she waited for the others of the fleet to focus on her. One by one, the psykers of the fleet flickered into her mind, their power intermingling with her own and the Crusade Fleet linked up.         That task complete, Celestia pushed forward, opening the portal into the Jaws of Cetus. ...         The cultists hurried along a small gaggle of civilians, their leader barking orders for the mutants to keep their prisoners in line. Some wept, others just followed in mute shock, perhaps in the vain hope that the cultists would release them if they remained quiet. With the city as damaged as it was, travel was slow even for the mutants, the small group scrambling over rubble and ruined vehicles in their march south.         All had gone well, until the leading cultist seized up before falling apart into a pile of shredded meat. The others had no chance to react before a shadow lunged out of thin air, claws flashing as it tore through armor and flesh as if it were mist. The civilians shrieked and drew closer together, getting only a glimpse of black and silver as their deliverer tore through cultist and mutant with ease.         In a minute it was over, and Corax’s sons descended from the nearby building to join him.         “They have become disorganized.” Corax mused, wiping the blood from his claws. “Had they full command, these captives would have been halfway to the Hive Fleet by now. Lead the civilians back to friendly lines; I will continue our hunt from here.”         “Yes, my lord.” the leader of the veterans nodded before he and his fellows approached the Rynnites, one Astartes removing his helmet as if to reassure the civilians they meant no harm. Corax did not stay to watch, jumping back up into the air until the shadows once more concealed him.         The enemy had breached the walls faster than he had anticipated. Hit and run attacks such as this had left dozens of Tyranids and cultists great and small dead, but it was like using a sponge to slow down a flood. Still, the Guard had retreated in good form, and the Tyranids had appeared to slow down once they reached the River Rynn, so perhaps there was some chance at holding the city.         Not if there were still Traitors to be found, Corax reminded himself.         He alighted onto another rooftop, scanning the city for signs of activity. Beyond, he could see the central spire of New Rynn City and the Imperial lines on the far bank, but there was little sign of any activity, hostile or otherwise. Frowning, Corax jumped forward, using minimal boosts from his jump pack to avoid detection as he dropped down on the street.         All he found was carnage. Cultists and Guardsmen lay strewn across the road, stacked up in heaps where they had been cut down. Corax approached one pile of bodies, pushing them over with his boot as he inspected their injuries. The topmost cultist had been eviscerated, dry and clotted organs squishing under Corax’s feet, but the strike appeared as a clean cut from the neck down to the hips.         Too clean for a cultist’s knife, or even a Tyranid blade. Too long for any Guardsman’s weapon. As Corax ran his hand through the cut, he could feel a faint tingling sensation run up his arm towards his neck. Warp Energy. The Traitors were here.         Corax pulled the corpse towards him, flicking one blade to neatly split open the cultist’s head. Quietly he licked any trace remains of blood and brain matter that remained on his claw, hoping to discern any memories the cultist might have had before it died. The only discernible images he was able to pick out was a flash of red, and the faintest image of a giant with a flaming skull. Lorgar.         Corax rose, looking around for any more signs. No Traitors had fallen in the struggle, but minute details to their arrival could be seen; a bolt shell here, the broken tooth of a chainsword there. He moved on, searching body after body for any more signs, until he found one that he could not ignore: a bloody boot print, matching the size of an Astartes.         He moved back to the rooftops, scanning the city for any signs of further activity. He could see more carnage, but from this range it was impossible to tell if it was from Traitors or Imperial shelling. Corax frowned, jumping towards another building, but once more all he found was rubble and broken vehicles. “Where are you, Traitor...” he muttered.         Corax did not expect an answer. He got one.         A chill raced over his arm, drawing his attention to the north. As if a hand guided his head, he found his gaze falling upon the central spire, the chill running back down his spine once more. Grimacing, Corax fired his jump pack again, crossing the narrower parts of the river as he came to the center spire of the city. No sign of Traitors, save perhaps one or two cultists lying dead in the river, but Corax could not focus on that right now.         The central spire was a massive building, a fading monolith to Mankind’s strength in the low light of evening. It was not as ornate as some spires in Hive Cities around the Imperium, but this particular side still possessed several carvings and sculptures of angels standing over the bodies of slain orks. Corax paid them no mind, though, keeping his head down as he searched for the source of the chill that had drawn him here, claws at the ready in case the Traitors sought to ambush him.         Finally, he found a large opening near the north side of the spire. It was perfectly rectangular, revealing a series of steps leading down into the depths of the spire. Even in the low light Corax could see a number of familiar sigils and glyphs lining the walls, every one of them flickering slightly and causing his eyes to ache. Typical of Chaos glyphs, but that was probably nothing compared to what awaited him inside. He advanced onward, his boots clicking against the stone the further in he walked.         The stairs ended in a hallway, surprisingly cut to fit a man of Corax’s stature. The walls were lit with dim golden lights, illuminating more profane sigils carved centuries before by cultists and madmen. Some Corax recognized from his journeys through the galaxy, but others were unlike any of the others the followers of Chaos liked to march under. He continued, using the light of his claws to illuminate his way, walking in silence for several moments before he came to the end of the hall.         The hall opened into a massive room, such that Corax questioned how no one had noticed it when the built the city in the first place. In the center appeared to be an altar, on which was strapped a very large, struggling Genestealer, perhaps the patriarch of the cult that had overthrown New Rynn City. A circle of red and silver clad Astartes stood silently around the room, while one dressed in black approached the altar and the captive Tyranid.         And presiding over it all was a familiar red clad Primarch, flames flickering around his horned head.         Corax said nothing as he leapt from the shadows, claws drawn back to strike. One of the Traitors shifted, catching sight of him just as he closed the distance. “Loyalist!” the Word Bearer cried, though he failed to bring his weapons around before Corax gutted him with a single strike. Others in the circle turned, bringing bolters to bear as Corax fell upon a second Traitor, a vicious uppercut sending half of the Traitor’s torso spinning off to the far corner of the room. Corax leapt back, allowing the shadows to close around him as he picked another target, hoping to clear the chaff away before going straight for Lorgar.         But he never got the chance. Lorgar spoke a word and flicked his hand forward, a wall of force smashing into Corax and pinning him against the wall. He tried to move, but the grinding of stone caught his attention as the very walls closed in around his jump pack and claws, pinning him fully as the Traitors circled. Some raised their bolters to fire before their master spoke.         “Hold fire!” Lorgar barked. “Let us not spill the blood of brothers here today. Proceed with the ceremonial preparations while I have words with my brother.” there was a pause, the Word Bearers dutifully lowering their weapons as Lorgar stepped up to Corax. Corax thrashed, hoping to loosen the grip the walls had on his hand, but to no avail.         “I was wondering whether or not you got my message, brother.” Lorgar said, a thin smile spreading across his face.         “I would never ignore the presence of traitors, Lorgar.” Corax spat. “What are you doing here?”         “Why brother, no courtesy in a greeting after so long? I am crushed.” Lorgar put his hand to his chest in mock anguish. “But I suppose the years have made you more direct. You are much like the Lion in that regard, no?”         “Why don’t you ask him? I’m sure he’d love to discuss pleasantries with you after he’s ripped your head from your body.”         “Hmm, I have felt that before; cannot say I cared for it.” Corax said nothing as Lorgar laughed at his joke. “But to answer your original question, I am here to help.”         “Let me go, and I’ll show you my gratitude for your assistance.” Corax growled.         “In time, Brother.” Lorgar turned back towards the altar. “You will thank me, for by this time tomorrow the Tyranids will die, mewling like the brainless insects they have always been.”         “You’ll follow them soon after, you know.”         “Hah! I have too much work left unfinished to die today.” Lorgar turned around. “But you know that I speak the truth. The power I serve is far greater than any you have seen, even more than that dullard you call ‘Empress’.” Corax stayed silent. “Oh? No defiance? No rising to the defense of your beloved murderer?”         “We are all murderers, Lorgar,” Corax said. “Do not think you can hold moral superiority over her in that regard.”         “I have every right to.” Lorgar furrowed his brow as he continued. “You should as well, or have the memories of Lycaeus faded completely from your mind? Who would you say deserves more blame: the task master with his whip, or the aristocrat who delights in the task master’s antics?”         “When you are a slave, you learn soon that the task masters are just as petty and cruel as the aristocrat they serve.” Corax’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised fifteen thousand years of slavery to the Dark Gods hasn’t enlightened you to that fact.”         “I am no slave,” Lorgar snapped. “I am perhaps the most free of all men, the one who has truly seen what lies beyond, what the true power of the Warp is. You and all the others are just too blind to your old beliefs to realize that the world has changed, that what you have been fighting for is nothing more than a hollow dream built upon lie after lie.”         “I fail to see how slaughtering innocents for no greater purpose than the fact that you can is more truthful than fighting for a rebuilt Imperium.”         “Is an Imperium based on lies and deceit truly worth building, though?” Lorgar turned away. “You know how much the Emperor hid from us, what he forced us to do to build his empire while we were destined to be thrown out like scraps. I could not stand the hypocrisy of his vision, so I did what any man in his right mind would do: rebel against the corrupt, the weak, and the arrogant.”         “By betraying your brothers and trusting yourself to Dark Gods?” Lorgar rounded on Corax, eyes blazing with fury.         “My brothers?!” he spat. “Where were my brothers when the Emperor forced me to kneel before him? Where were my brothers when the Ultramarines celebrated in the ruins of Monarchia? Where were my brothers when innocent and loyal citizens were killed for no greater crime than seeing a different path?!” Corax said nothing again as Lorgar turned away. “If that does not tell you that you serve a false, petty king, then you are just as heartless as he is.”         “Any more heartless than Horus throwing my sons into a slaughter they could not overcome?” Corax countered. “I tire of this conversation. If you are going to kill me, get it over with instead of sermonizing to me.”         “Oh, I am not the one to kill you today.” Lorgar stepped back. “I have seen the paths of fate, and yours does not end here... the Tyranids are not so lucky, but then you can thank me for that when we are finished.” Lorgar’s expression softened. “I do not wish us to be enemies, Corax. You and I have both been wronged, and perhaps done much wrong as well. Do you truly think a mere word from the Emperor is enough to blot out the shame of the mutants you created to stop Horus?” Corax remained silent. “I only offer you a hand of friendship, Corax. Wipe out the guilt completely, turn away from the lies and shame. The Emperor can only offer you so much, while I will overlook all transgressions that have passed between us. We can make this Imperium truly great under the banner of Chaos, if only you would see the truth. Please,” Lorgar extended a hand. “Join me, Corax, before you are swept away by the tide.” there was a lengthy pause, Corax glaring up at Lorgar. He would have liked to muster up one last burst of strength and claw the Traitor’s face off, but whatever magics Lorgar was using held him fast. So, he would resort to words.         “I would rather be swept away than accept fealty to you, Traitor.” he said. Lorgar hesitated before giving a sigh and dropping his hand.         “Of all those that still live, I had thought you would be the one to see reason,” he said. “But I suppose that time has passed. Truly, Corax, I had hoped we might become friends again, but I find myself disappointed...” a pause before Lorgar looked up. “No matter. I have wasted enough time as it is. I hope you enjoy this display of true power, Corax.” and with that Lorgar turned away from Corax, descending until he was back on level ground with his sons, a black dagger materializing in his hand as he approached the restrained Genestealer Patriarch.         “Chaos is true power,” he said, “In its light, who can stand against it? It draws strength from all actions, all beings, all forms, from the death of the first stars to the budding of new grass. All that hope to stand against it are overthrown, so that only the truth remains.” he stopped just before the altar. The Genestealer hissed, trashing to try and get at the Daemon Primarch, but to no avail.         “The Tenth Gate opens. First, the stench of the alien that our might may be felt.” With one fluid motion Lorgar stabbed his knife into the Tyranid’s chest, opening the beast like a fisherman cleaning his catch. The Genestealer howled, but its actions were futile as Lorgar ripped it apart, the black knife sizzling as alien blood evaporated.         “Then, the blood of the Prophet, who calls upon these dark powers,” Lorgar turned the blade on himself, slashing his hand open and allowing his blood to drip on the base of the altar. “And finally, the blood of the Chosen, that our power grow ever stronger.” the Daemon Primarch turned to the Chaos Marine dressed in black, and just as he had killed the Genestealer he now sliced open the Traitor Astartes. There was a pause as the Space Marine died, his blood flowing to the altar and mixing with that of the Tyranid and Lorgar. Finally, a shimmer overtook the altar and the bodies, both glowing before they dissolved into a cloud of Warp Energy.         Corax could feel a chill stabbing into every muscle in his body. He stopped his struggles for a moment, watching in morbid fascination at what took place before him, until all that remained of the altar and the bodies was a single glowing mark in the center of the room, one that Corax had to shy away from even as a Primarch.         “The Tenth Gate opens, my sons!” Lorgar cried, raising his hands to the ceiling. “Soon, we shall show the Imperium the truth of what we stand for, and all shall bow before our great altar!” the surviving Traitors cheered, raising their weapons towards the ceiling while Lorgar continued. “Return to the rest of your brothers. There is still more to do here to prepare for the death of the Hive Mind.” the Word Bearers nodded, forming up around one of the apparent leaders as he opened a Warp Portal while Lorgar approached Corax.         “Do you see, brother?” Lorgar asked. “The power I serve is beyond the petty constraints of the Hive Mind and your Emperor. I would show you more, but as you said, you tire of speaking to me.” Corax stayed silent, even as Lorgar glided past him and headed down the hall. “I will leave you here to think on what has transpired. Who knows, perhaps you will begin to see things my way.” and with that the Daemon Primarch was gone, leaving Corax alone with the glowing rune. He tried to break free once more, but even with Lorgar gone the stone held firm.         What is he playing at...? Corax mused. Empress... if you can hear me, we are all in grave danger. ...         Despair.         It hung in the air like smoke as Mattias and the Valhallans passed through the makeshift defensive line along the River Rynn. Guardsmen that had once been happily chatting over their impending victory stared silently ahead, their eyes blank and unfocused. Many were injured, nursing cut arms and torn faces while other had to be helped about on broken if not severed legs. Even the Commissars seemed dour, standing quietly to the side rather than stepping up to enforce discipline and morale among the rank and file.         And then there were the civilians. Mattias lost track of how many he saw, all wandering listlessly through the ranks. Some were just like the Guardsmen, staring blankly ahead as they tried to make sense of what they had witnessed, while other wept with one another as they mourned for lost loved ones. Some tried to come to Mattias for comfort, only to shy away as they spotted the silver I of the Inquisition marking his robes and armor.         While he would not say it outwardly, Mattias wished they would come to him.         Ahead, he could see the cobbled together collection of tents and storage containers that made the field hospital. Bianca was easy to spot, her white armor standing out against the grey and drab of her surroundings. She was tending to a heavily pregnant civilian, checking a readout on her narthecium before speaking.         “Your blood pressure is a bit elevated,” she said. “But you and your child are otherwise fine.”         “Thank you, my lady.” the pregnant woman said, giving Bianca a teary smile. “After all we’ve lost, I couldn’t imagine losing my baby...”         “The Empress’ hand is upon you, and will not let your child die.” Bianca replied, turning to put away her supplies before the civilian spoke again.         “Please, my lady,” she said, taking Bianca’s arm. “I-if you are checking, can you look for my husband? His name is Renaldo, he’s a farmer and a good man. W-w-we were separated during the crossing, but he could not be far from here.”         “I will do what I can to find your husband.” Bianca replied, placing the woman’s hands back. “Go and rest. You need not fear for you or your child’s lives tonight.” the woman nodded, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she made her way out of the field hospital. Mattias stepped aside and watched her go, waiting for her to be out of earshot before turning to Bianca.         “I did not have the heart to tell her,” Bianca said. “... I could not tell her that I found her husband an hour ago. He died of shock from a Devourer wound shortly after he was brought to me.” Bianca hung her head, her hand flexing as she sighed. “I am doing all I can, but I am one Hospitaller against the tide.”         “I’m sure you have saved many lives tonight,” Mattias started, but Bianca shook her head.         “Eighteen million souls would say otherwise.” there was a lengthy pause before Bianca looked back up at Mattias. “But my work is never done, is it? How have you been, Mattias?”         “... I could be better.” Mattias crossed to a nearby crate and sat down, the metal creaking slightly before continuing. “Alexis, Nikolai, stand guard and don’t let anyone interrupt us.”         “Yes, Lord Mattias.” Nikolai replied, the two taking up station at the front of the tent.         “Mattias, I have patients to tend to,” Bianca said, frowning. “What is it that’s so important that you have to sequester yourself here?” Mattias remained silent for several moments. His mind bounced between topics, that of Bianca’s apparent resurrection or that the Empress’ chosen student was probably a xenos. Either one would only create more problems.         “We spoke with the Sisters just before I came here.” Mattias said, looking up at Bianca. “They said you died and were brought back to life.” Bianca hesitated, her hands clenching again. The Hospitaller shuffled on her feet, as if waiting for Mattias to continue.         “I... I am not quite sure what happened to me,” she said finally, releasing some of the tension in her body. “I was hit by a mutant, and took significant spinal and internal injuries in the process. A less protected soul would probably have died, but somehow I survived.” she shivered. “After that it’s rather hazy. I remember the Sisters carrying me through the city, my legs falling numb, the darkness...” she hesitated again, Mattias taking the opportunity to speak again.         “So you really did die?” he asked.         “Having never died before, I cannot say...” Bianca shook her head. “Not that I would wish to experience it again. Whatever happened, I... I remember a bright light, and a sudden warmth that came over me. I could breathe again, feel my legs again, and...” she paused. “And there was Rebecca, a golden narthecium strapped to her arm and her Sisters praising her as a saint. I don’t think the poor girl handled it well, that’s why she’s not here with me right now, but I am half tempted to believe it.” Mattias remained silent. So it was true then, and Rebecca was a saint of some sort. The Ordo Hereticus and the Ecclesiarchy would be pleased to hear of that development... provided, of course, they did not cry in outrage at what else Mattias knew.         “I suppose today has been full of surprises, hasn’t it?” Mattias asked.         “Perhaps...” Bianca replied, one eyebrow raised. “Is there something else you wish to discuss?” Mattias hesitated again. His hands clenched, the left one clicking as metal ground against metal, and he found himself fighting the urge to chew his lip. Just get it over with.         “We had some assistance getting back to friendly lines,” he started. “Eldar, Harlequins even.”         “Eldar, here?” Bianca asked, eyes widening. “Should we alert the Astartes?”         “I don’t think they have the numbers to be a threat to us... physically, at least.” Mattias sighed before continuing. “While they brought us here, they took us to this place that showed us memories, our memories. I saw some of Tara’s and...” he stopped, choking on the words.         “And what?” Bianca asked.         “... Tara’s real name is Twilight, and she is a xenos.” there was a lengthy pause, Bianca regarding Mattias for several moments. Finally, she scowled.         “Really, Mattias?” she started. “Tara is a xenos? She looks human enough to me.”         “I don’t know how, but I think it involves powerful sorcery, sorcery only the Empress or someone close to Her power could wield.” Mattias rose. “Think about it, Bianca. She knew nothing of war until she met us, even when she was a student of the Empress of Mankind, she speaks a language that has been dead for nearly five thousand years, wields psychic powers that somehow break through the Shadow of the Warp, and the Eldar addressed her with a formal title like she was some kind of legend among them. Doesn’t that make you the least bit suspicious that maybe she isn’t human?”         “There are thousands of planets that are at peace in the Imperium, Mattias,” Bianca countered, eyes narrowing. “And as a student of the Empress, perhaps she is more learned in some manners than any other psyker you have met. And are you telling me you trust the vision of an Eldar?”         “That’s the thing with psychic visions, Bianca,” Mattias turned away. “The false ones always have some detail out of place, because try as they might the caster cannot read the entire soul of their target. This one, though? The inflections, the tone, the scale of time that passed, all of it was too perfect to be a hoax. It was just like the visions the Empress showed us when she revealed herself back on Terra.” Bianca said nothing, Mattias still keeping his back to her.         “Even if your theory is true,” Bianca said. “What good does it do anyone? If she is a servant of the Empress, then she is an ally we can trust.”         “She is still a xenos!” Mattias hissed, turning back towards Bianca. “Even if she serves the Imperium, it will always be for her goals and wishes, not for Mankind’s. There will come a point when she will be forced to choose between us and her own beliefs, and-”         “Mattias, you sound like Markos.” Bianca snapped. “Tara is a good woman who will do anything to help those who are in need. She is a student of the Empress for Throne’s sake! Are you going to accuse the God Empress of plotting against her own people?” Mattias’ jaw tightened as Bianca continued. “I always respected you, Mattias, because you were unlike any Inquisitor I have ever met. You did not make rash accusations, or callously gun down civilians to suit your paranoia; you investigated and then acted, as a true servant of the Imperium should. Now you go on about Tara being a xenos, and you sound like just another hotheaded zealot readying himself to jump in front of a heavy bolter.”         “The difference now is that I’m right about this.” Mattias replied.         “So were they until I watched their hearts stop in my hands.” Mattias sputtered, trying to think of a good way to continue forward. Bianca had to understand, had to know that Twilight was dangerous... wasn’t she? Finally, he sighed and hung his head.         “I know I sound like some ridiculous zealot,” he said. “But I can’t just ignore this information, Bianca. Maybe Twilight is not out to destroy us, and maybe the Empress vouches for her.” he looked up. “But there’s still a small chance that I am right, and I cannot ignore that.”         “I am sure.” Bianca replied. “And perhaps you are right, but I have seen too much good in that woman to believe she would ever willingly betray us. If nothing else, you should speak to her and the Empress to make sure all is well before you start tossing out baseless accusations like this.” Mattias said nothing, but Bianca’s gaze softened as she continued. “You are a good man, Mattias, just be sure you do not follow the same path thousands of others have died upon having achieved nothing.”         “I’m not even sure what path I follow now.” Mattias said, looking out across the makeshift camp. The civilian crowds had been corralled, Guardsmen leading them to more permanent shelters while other soldiers took up the night’s watch. It was a tenuous grasp, sure enough, despair still radiating from the soldiers as they marched to their stations.         And somewhere in that morass of men and machines was a Saint, and a human with the soul of a naive xenos. And as before, Mattias was at a loss.