2.21- The Hawk and the Serpent
The Hawk and the Serpent
He remained silent. There was no need conversing with these xenos.
The leader liked to keep him away from the others. “Keeps him fresh”, it said, leering over the Khan as if he were a prized stallion being tended to in the fields. The aliens cackled, prodding and stabbing at him with sharp blades and cattle prods to try to provoke him, as they had since they first captured him.
He remained silent. The xenos had nothing to offer him besides targets for his vengeance.
The only ones he looked to where his fellow prisoners. Most were xenos and monsters, nothing to fear or bother with, but some were still men. Some even rode with him during the Hunt, lost for centuries before returning now. If only it were under better circumstances... though, we have suffered worse. He had hoped to speak more to them, perhaps rally a resistance against the xenos, but the aliens were crafty enough to whisk him away before a true connection could be forged.
That would be crafted in their blood soon enough.
They kept him chained up between duels, his feet chained to the floor with his arms tied off above his head. His only clothing was a loincloth and several pieces of metal not worthy of being spoken of as armor, yet another means by which the xenos sought to humiliate him. Still he remained silent, never once rising to their taunt no matter how much they tried.
The only joy he found was in memorizing their faces, thin and cruel from lives of debauchery. His vengeance kept him moving, his desire to strike them down acting as his food and drink as days past.
He was chained up again, waiting in silence as the xenos girded him in their pathetic armor. The leader of the group, the most petty and cruel of the bunch, watched him from the sidelines, a black whip in its hand as it eyed the Khan. “You’ve done me great honors, Mon’Keigh,” it hissed, coiling the rope in its hand. “You kill, and the crowd pays me well. The Archons love to see you fight and kill other weaklings, and some have even asked to take your head. I have half the mind to give you to them...”
The Khan said nothing, causing the alien to frown. “But no, I’ve saved you for a true prize: Lelith Hesperax, sponsored by Lord Vect himself.” the xenos cackled before continuing. “The Master of the Black Heart, he who is ten times the being your weakling Emperor is! He considers me for his patronage, and why should I not have it when I have the greatest gladiator of all!”
The Khan glared at the alien, watching as it stepped up in front of him. “Hesperax is a legend. She’s killed more of your kind than entire armies have. She’ll run you hard, might even be the one to wound you... That will make our victory so much better, won’t it?”
“...”
“... Ah, being quiet, are we?” the alien smirked. “Then follow my words: stick the bitch like a pig. Make her scream like no one has ever made her scream before. Bring me her corpse, and I might just reward you with a bit of pleasure. What do you have to say with that?”
He looked at the alien. Were his hands free, he would rip the xenos’ skull from its shoulders, but the Khan could not move. All he could do was speak.
“Not even dogs will eat of your corpse when I am through with you, xenos.” he growled. The alien screwed its face at this, but moved on.
“Kill Hesperax, and you will be treated well.” it stepped back, clamping its whip to its belt before turning to its fellows. “Arm him! Lord Vect will arrive soon, and I want this slave to be seen by all.” The Khan was drawn back, his chains shifting so his hands were now in front of him. They tightened, such that even with his strength he could not reach forward to choke the life out of the xenos that brought his weapon.
At least they had the courtesy of letting him keep his dao, the blade a familiar weight in his hands as he was carted off through the arena.
The Khan could hear others, suffering. Some being “prepped” for combat, like him, while others were merely left to the scant mercy of the monsters around him. He could break free, go and save the poor souls and take his vengeance... but a small whisper, be it a creeping madness or some trick of the xenos, told him to wait, to bide his time and allow the xenos to make the first mistake.
They pushed him into a small room, a ramp leading up to the faint outline of a trap door above. He took a breath in, allowing his mind to calm as he took his sword in a two handed grip. By some cue he did not know, the chains around his legs and arms fell away, finally giving him a chance to move as a man once more.
The Khan did not waste time. Battle was to be had.
He charged through the trap door, his bulk allowing him to smash the xenos contraption aside as he stepped into the battlefield. The crowd roared, though whether it was because of his presence or the ongoing savagery before him. Beasts and xenos clashed with one another, a disorganized melee meant only to heighten the slaughter. At the far end of the battlefield the Khan could see a lone warrior, a scantily clad xenos woman ducking and weaving through the battlefield, twin knives reaping death with every strike.
This, then, was his opponent. This, the Khan could overcome.
He stepped back, taking his dao into a guard position as he worked out the best path through the crowd. The xenos had saw fit to release some Ambulls, the massive insects smashing through ranks of fighters in a mad frenzy. While they were of little physical concern to him, their rampaging would slow him down and perhaps give his opponent an opportunity to close. He shifted his footing, scooting around the brawling gladiators so as to avoid having to confront the Ambulls, his eyes never leaving the form of the woman at the end of the field
An opening, and the Khan struck.
His first target was a Rak’gol, the eight-limbed centaur stabbing at him with a rusty spear. He swept his sword across, the dao smashing across the xenos’ face causing it to drop its spear. With his free hand the Khan scooped up the spear and stabbed, staking the Rak’gol through the heart as he advanced into the fray. He whipped his dao around again, chopping downward to split two Eldar warriors in half. The Khan drew back once more, sweeping his sword downward to deflect a trio of thrown knives from a warrior he could not see.
Child’s play. The aliens would have to try harder.
The Khan stepped forward again, stabbing an ork warrior through the chest without breaking stride. A creature of undetermined species charged howling towards him, but the Khan gave it little thought as he grabbed and crushed its head. The xenos woman had spotted him, dispatching her current victim with a knife to the bowels before trotting towards him, skipping around copses and duels as she started down the Primarch.
The Khan brought his sword up as the xenos jumped off the back of a dead Ambull, her knives ringing as they collided with his sword. The xenos struck as soon as she landed, stabbing upward to catch the Khan off guard. He blocked easily, sweeping his dao downward to deflect the xenos’ strike to his right, but the woman rolled with the strike before lashing out with her hair. The small blades woven within scraped across the Khan’s skin, a thin trail of blood following the Eldar as she danced away from her opponent.
The Khan grunted, drawing his sword up towards his head as he waited for the xenos’ next move. The woman darted forward again, ducking to her right to avoid the Khan’s strike before stabbing out with her weapons. He ducked to the side, twisting his hand around to drive the pommel of his sword into the Eldar’s skull, but a quick dodge meant he only scored a glancing blow against the alien’s shoulder. The alien gave a short, disdainful gasp, spinning and stabbing, striking only air as the Khan stepped away once more.
The xenos was prepared to attack, twisting her blades around in her hand as the Khan drew his sword downward. Before either warrior could strike, the Khan felt a shift in the air, particles of energy collecting and tugging at the very fabric of reality. He stepped back again just as a flash of light filled the arena, depositing a new combatant into the melee.
It was a figure he had not seen in millennia: a giant in golden armor, a flaming sword in one hand and a clawed gauntlet around the other. A brilliant red cape caught in the wind like a war banner, complemented by... pastel colored hair? The Khan almost dropped his sword, straightening upright as the figure rushed to his side.
He recognized the Emperor, sure enough... but when did he become a woman?
“Jaghatai!” the woman cried, placing herself between him and the equally perplexed xenos.
“Emperor?” the Khan started. “Why...” No, that was not the right question to ask. “What are you doing here?”
“That would take too long to explain,” the... Empress, he supposed, clenched her fist and formed a psychic shield, a crazed Eldar smacking against the golden wall as its creator continued. “Alpharius’ minions are here. Gather whatever warriors you have and escape the arena.”
“... As you command.” the Khan sprinted away, looking for the ruined trapdoor he had entered the arena through. Around him he could hear the crowd’s displeasure, boos and hisses wafting from the seats as he searched. Finally he found the remains, the Khan kicking aside a few corpses as he stepped into the dark.
The Eldar were surprised to see him return, even more so with the slight grin on his face. They grabbed for their weapons, but the Primarch covered the distance between them with unmatched speed. The first he merely crushed underfoot, while the second he nailed to the wall with a stab from his sword. The guards dispatched, he descended further into the cages, stopping amidst the sounds of suffering and raising his sword overhead.
“Sons of humanity, to me!” he bellowed. “The Emperor has come to our aid, and our time to act is now! Strike swiftly, pay back all that these xenos have inflicted on you, for Mankind shall never be shackled!” He stormed forward, bowling over two more Eldar in a rush towards a pair of captured Astartes. The Space Marines needed no further prompting, the first grabbing out and crushing the nearest Eldar in a deathly embrace while the second reached to break his restraints. Gunfire erupted from ahead, a squadron of Warriors rushing forward to quell the rebellion, but the Khan had already freed the first of his fellows before rising to face the newcomers.
The freed prisoners fell upon other slavers and guards, beating them to death with whatever weapons they could find. The Khan, though, focused on the newly arrived Eldar, rushing forward with his sword held low as they tried and failed to get a good lead on him. He swept the blade upward, sending the first warrior’s upper torso spinning into the dark as he punched another across the face. The other Eldar tried to fall back, but the Khan’s speed left no room for escape, the Primarch cleaving one from head to toe before hacking another in half with a cross strike.
The Khan moved onward, sweeping down a side hall to block a group of more heavily armed Eldar from entering the fray. They had no time to get their weapons up, blasters and agonizers useless as the Khan swooped down on them. Every strike found its mark, cuts and slashes leaving behind only blood and severed limbs as the Khan continued his rampage, not even stopping as he tore through the Eldar. The freed prisoners would be able to work quickly, breaking through cages and stockades to add more to their number with only a few paltry defenders to slow their way.
All others would have to pass by the Khan. None would succeed.
He had finished dispatching another squad of Eldar when he spotted a familiar face among the aliens. The slaver who had captured him, tried to break and torment him at every turn, now stood huddled with a number of other aliens, black-armored Incubi standing guard as it tried to urge some twisted abominations into the fight. The alien turned and paled at the sight of the Khan, quivering even as his bodyguards closed in around it.
“That’s the one! That’s the Mon’Keigh leader!” it shrieked. “Kill it! Kill it, and I am sure your masters will reward you handsomely! I’ll reward you handsomely.” the Incubi took only a scant moment to size up their target before springing forward, drawing back with their klaives in anticipation of striking down the Khan.
So blind.
He drew his sword back before bringing it over his head, catching the downward chop of the leading Incubi. He quickly swept his dao downard, deflecting a second strike from the next alien as the Incubi pressed in. The Khan stepped to the side, taking a wild swing to force the Incubi back as he searched for an opening. Two more jumped in to replace those that had been forced back, swinging their klaives towards the Khan’s throat, finding only air as the Primarch stepped back and swept his sword upward. This strike clipped the leg of one Eldar, not enough to take the limb off but enough to cause the alien to stumble into one of its partners.
The Khan barreled forward, looking to exploit the minute gap the stumbling Incubi provided him. He let out a hiss as a klaive slashed across his back, but the pain was worth it as he ran down the first of the Incubi, the alien barely reacting as the Khan stabbed it through the chest. With his free hand he grabbed the xenos’ weapon, and using his momentum he swung the captured klaive behind him to intercept two more of the Eldar. He pulled his dao from the chest of the dying alien and spun, a whirlwind of blades that severed the hands of a second Incubi that could not clear the space.
The Khan held both his weapons at his side, sizing up the two Incubi that remained. The aliens broke to opposite sides, hoping to divert the Primarch’s attention as they rushing in to attack. The Khan twisted his blades in his hands, blocking two strikes as he rushed through the Incubi. He turned, catching one high chop as the second Eldar landed a slice across his stomach, but doing so found the Incubi brained on the Khan’s dao. Before the last Incubi could pull back, the Khan hooked his captured weapon under the Eldar’s own, yanking back to disarm the alien and knock it to the ground.
He wasted no time. A step back gave him some room, and bringing both blades down neatly severed the xenos’ torso from the rest of its body. The Khan gave no thought as the Eldar’s body collapsed in a bloody heap, turning his attention to the now quivering slaver.
“No... no, you can’t kill me here,” the alien babbled, trying and failing to maintain its smug air. “I-I am all that your kind fears, human! I-I-I merely wished to show you that strength, that’s all! I meant nothing by-”
“Quiet your babbling,” the Khan crossed the distance and stabbed, pinning the xenos to the wall a meter from the floor. The alien gave a yelp as the Khan loomed in. “You say you are fear? I know not the word... but perhaps, you may teach me what it means to know fear.”
...
The Eldar wytch had, wisely, decided fighting Celestia to be more trouble than it was worth. She ducked away, disappearing into the melee as a score of younger wyches rushed to fill her place, eager to prove themselves where the Champion failed.
Celestia barely gave them notice. A shift of her power saw all of them left as charred husks, a tornado of fire whipping around Celestia as she advanced through the melee. She kept her sword up, picking out the most obvious of enemies while doing her best to identify any humans that were caught up in the battle.
A few still stood, but that number dwindled with each passing second. That was something she could not allow.
Celestia swept her blade around, pushing her power outward to reach those of her people that still stood. Ill-armed slaves or almost broken gladiators, all of them found themselves shielded in a golden shield of light, their opponents’ weapons flailing uselessly against the might of the Empress. With her blade held aloft she swept her gauntleted hand outward, tendrils of power sweeping through the milling forces to snag the most monstrous, the most dangerous and bloodthirsty among the horde.
She closed her fist, the tendrils bursting into white flames to burn the xenos body and soul. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, but Celestia remained calm as the last of the fighters disappeared in columns of smoke.
She extended her shields, merging them into a single dome as the humans among her group gathered to her. “You...” one gladiator started. “You are the Emperor...”
“I am,” she replied. “Though my form is perhaps not what you remember. Are any of you injured?” a few of the weaker looking slaves tentatively stepped forward, their bodies bloody from any number of abuses. Celestia lowered her sword, stabbing the blade into the ground before kneeling and reaching out to touch the slaves one by one. With a subtle pulse her magic reached outward, stitching closed wounds and reforming broken bone with ease. The slaves looked on at her with wonder, watching every move she made as she healed them one by one.
“You are just as the preachers say,” another said. “You truly are the God Emperor of Mankind.”
“I am merely human, just as you are,” Celestia replied. “For now, let us focus on your escape. My son has gone below to free more of your number, and should be joining us soon.” No sooner had she finished this did two bolts of dark energy smack against her shield, Celestia shifting her power forward as she searched for the foe. Two Eldar Ravager gunboats drifted down from above, a number of smaller escort craft brimming with warriors zipping along behind them. Celestia scowled, taking up her sword as the aliens spoke.
“Very amusing, Mon’Keigh,” a voice boomed from the leading Ravager. “Your little act of defiance has certainly prolonged your suffering. Now lower your shield and let us reap what belongs to us.”
“All you will find is your death, scum!” Celestia countered. “I have shatter planets with a mere thought, killed suns with a flick of my wrist! My word can still ten thousand hearts and burn one million souls! Strike me if you can, but even gods cannot destroy the Heart of Mankind!” Celestia stabbed her sword forward, a bright lance blasting through the Ravager and leaving next to no sign that the craft had existed in the first place. A cry of outrage arose from the other xenos, and soon Celestia’s shield was hammered by thousands of darts, bullets, and energy blasts as the Eldar tried to break through and kill her.
The deluge would have continued, were it not for an explosion rocking the arena. Celestia managed a glance back, watching as purple and green smoke rose from the shattered remains of a viewing box, twisting around in shapes unimaginable. She felt a prickling sensation along her back, the taste of dark power flickering in her mind. Warp Portals. Alpharius intends the arena for a sacrificial altar. Two more explosions rung out, Warp energy building up around her and permeating the arena.
“Draw closer to me,” she said, the humans quickly complying as two more portals blasted open. “I will teleport us out and don’t wish to lose anyone.” she reached down into the bowels of the arena, searching for the Khan and those he had free. Humans, thousands of them, filled her mind, each one of them being plucked into her power like one would harvest grapes. Finally, she spotted the Khan, her magic wrapping around him just as she completed the teleportation spell.
Just as the entire arena exploded into a Warp Portal.
...
Alpharius had found a “quiet” spot near the arena, watching in silence as the whole structure collapsed into the Warp. The Eldar were already rushing towards it like insects to a flame, more out of eagerness to test their mettle against the daemons that would soon arrive rather than a desire to contain the portal... for now. Surely his temporary patron would take offense to so large a breach, but Alpharius had what he had came for; no need to deal with the xenos further.
There were still a few matters to deal with. First and foremost, the Empress.
Alpharius waited, watching as lesser daemons spewed out of the portal and took solid shape down below. Most were the former subjects of Slaanesh, the daemonettes eager to finally taste the suffering of Commorragh. They danced among the Dark Eldar, snapping and clawing at anything they found purchase on while the xenos fought back with blade and gun. Melee broke down to slaughter, both sides butchering each other with reckless abandon while the Alpha Legion downed more central figures on either side to drag the fighting out.
Anything to help Fulgrim’s “Grand Entrance”.
He spotted a new shape forming within the portal. It had the body of a giant snake, purple scales merging with similarly colored armor. The newcomer had four arms, each hand gripping a black saber, and he was carried forward on two wings coated in black feathers. About the only thing about him that had not changed from his previous life was his face, still bearing the smug visage of the Primarch of the Emperor’s Children.
“Pain, pleasure, paranoia! Oh, it sings to me on this day of battle!” Fulgrim crooned as he materialized on the battlefield. “Come, piper! Come, harpist! Strum that beautiful music of slaughter, that I may revel in destroying these filthy mongrels. Let them see that I, Fulgrim, and the picture of pleasure and pain, a paragon of perfection and power!” The Daemon Primarch snaked through the air, searching for a suitable target before he spotted Alpharius. “Alpharius, will you not join in on this grand slaughter of xenos?”
“I have other matters to attend to on Solemnace,” Alpharius said. “But perhaps I can point you to a most tempting target.” at this, Fulgrim grinned.
“Oh, do tell.”
“Jaghatai Khan leads a coalition of slaves to the docks, intent on escaping this city and making for the Materium. More importantly, the Emperor is acting as their rearguard.” If it were possible, Alpharius would have said Fulgrim’s grin grew even wider.
“The Emperor will know what it’s like to suffer when I am through with her!” he cackled, beating his wings as he headed for the docks. “Perhaps I’ll braid her scalp to my swords as a trophy!”
If she bothers to try, you won’t last more than a minute, Alpharius thought, stepping back and allowing the shadows to claim him once more.
...
There were others.
The Khan had seen them as he blitzed through the dungeons. They wore the skins of men, beaten and bloodied as all the others, but their souls were shattered and torn. Some were so broken that only their frame was that of Humanity, everything that remained only a twisted, alien mass. Vulkan or Sanguinius or even Guilliman would have done whatever they could to save them, such was their nature, but the Khan was more willing to pass them by in search for his enemies.
But not completely willing.
He had moved forward towards the least broken, those who perhaps could have been saved in the Empress’ presence, but he could barely take a step before he was seized in a golden glow. Warp magic, he mused, just as his vision flashed white and he found himself standing on the large thoroughfare of Commorragh, cool air wafting against him as he took in his surroundings.
A large collection of humanity stood behind him. Those that had been in the arena and those he had freed, all mingled together in relief as a golden dome settled over them. In the center the Khan could see the Empress, the woman kneeling over some of the more severely injured as she continued to use her powers to heal them. So, this new Emperor forsakes Nikaea... he stopped just at the edge of the Empress’ vision, waiting until she finished with her latest patient before rising.
“There were others,” he said, just loud enough to catch her attention.
“I did not sense any with my power, Jaghatai,” the Empress countered. “My vision has not failed me yet.”
“Not all who are lost can be found with a mere glance,” the Khan replied. “There were others, and you know. Perhaps in haste you merely did not reach far enough.” The Empress’ face twisted into a scowl for a moment, the woman turning away from the Primarch to control her anger.
No, not anger... guilt.
“...I saved who I could.” she said finally. “And I shall mourn those I could not. But now, we need to keep moving before these xenos or the forces of Chaos close in on us. Take point and lead us through; I cannot risk another teleport without losing some of our charges.” Always moving forward. The Khan turned, looking past the group through the twisting spires of Commorragh. The xenos city defied any sense of cohesion or normality, paths that at first appeared straight suddenly veering and splitting off into nothingness while others warped into being from the shadows. Even for a skilled pathfinder like him, the Khan found his mind aching as he tried to comprehend a clear path with minimal exposure.
If those xenos had not destroyed my voidbike...
“This way,” he said, pointing his dao towards a smaller alley. “My warriors and I will keep the xenos from you.” the prisoners parted, allowing the Primarch and those Astartes that still stood to pass through. The Khan cast a brief glance over his shoulder, spotting the Empress as she took a position in the rear, shifting her hand so her shield stayed firm.
The Astartes took point, keeping their pace slow so they did not lose the rest of the prisoners in their search. Every movement caught the Khan’s attention, a potential threat that had to be assessed and destroyed less they surprise and overwhelm what meager forces they had, even with him and the Empress present.
It would come down to outmaneuvering the foe. That was something the Khan could handle.
He stepped past the group, herding them down the narrower path as he watched for danger. The various prisoners whispered thanks and praises to him as they passed, keeping their heads low lest they somehow provoke the Khan’s ire. As soon as the Empress drew closer, the Khan moved back towards the front, easily overtaking the other humans and the rescued Astartes. They continued to move in more or less complete silence, whatever whimpering the prisoners gave off drowned out by the distant sounds of battle rising from where the arena used to stand.
The constant whining of repulsor lifts did little to calm the nerves of any of the mortals.
The Khan stopped, raising his free hand to halt the rest of the group. The path ahead dropped into nothingness, a vast dive into open space leading to another spire hundreds of meters down. The only path on a normal plane was a small ridge barely an arm span wide leading to the Khan’s right, the path slowly angling down before it too disappeared into the shadows. But beyond that, the Khan could see a wide, flat plane, boat-like craft moored in curving docks that, anywhere else, would have been very pleasing aesthetically. The Khan could see flashes of light from weapon discharges and foul magic, but from so far away he could not make out which side held the docks.
Not that it matters, he thought. We will kill them all the same.
“Step carefully,” he called back. “The path is narrow, but I can see the docks from here.”
“And our enemies?” the Empress called from the rear.
“Distracted, for now,” he replied. Twisting his dao so the point rested near his feet, the Khan shifted to be parallel with the wall, shuffling along as he made his way along the path. The regular humans could make the journey easily enough, but he and the others continued their awkward shuffle along the wall, small pieces of refuse tumbling into the void with every step he took. The Empress still maintained the barrier, the golden glow a welcome sign among the darkness of Commorragh as the group of humans continued ever onward.
Ahead, the Khan could see relief; though they still stood near the edge of the abyss, the path appeared to widen ever so much to accommodate larger traffic. Another step, and he could move freely without the risk of tumbling into oblivion, some of the freed Astartes and regular humans breathing sighs of relief as they found more space. The Empress continued to watch from the rear, shifting her power ever so slightly to better deal with threats seen and unseen.
Not that they needed to, for they heard their attacker before they saw him.
“Found you!” The Khan spun, bringing his dao up as the four-armed daemon dove down at him with such sudden surprise and so little room to maneuver the Primarch almost tripped drawing back, his blade barely managing to deflect the four swords that swept out at him. The newcomer swept past, taking the heads from two of the Khan’s freed warriors before trying to strike the Primarch once more. Before that strike could connect, a golden glow enveloped the creature and flung it into space, a small inconvenience as the daemon righted itself on black wings.
“Fulgrim!” the Empress bellowed, the crowds parting to allow her some space as she placed herself between them and the daemon. The more the Khan watched, the more the creature bore a resemblance to his fallen brother... Definitely the face, he mused, keeping his dao at the ready as he sized up their new challenge.
“Emperor...” Fulgrim hissed, a cruel smile forming on his face. “So nice of you to finally show your face after all these centuries... it’s certainly an improvement over your ugliness the last time we met.” He cackled, bringing his four swords up once more. “A shame I will have to cut you to pieces. Now die!” Fulgrim charged, drawing his swords back in preparation of stabbing the Empress. She did not stand idle, stepping in to the strike and punching outward, her gauntlet catching Fulgrim in the face and sending the daemon sprawling.
“Jaghatai!” she shouted. “Get the others to the docks and find a ship! I will deal with this creature.”
“Your people will need a shield more than a sword, Empress,” the Khan countered, watching as Fulgrim writhed on the ground before pulling himself back up to his full height.
“You are in no condition to fight these odds. Go, now!” The Empress stepped forward again, a column of Warpflame exploding into being before her. This did little to stop Fulgrim, who merely charged through and stabbed, twisting his blades so the Empress’ own would be locked within their grasp. Eyes crackling with power, the Empress rammed her free shoulder into Fulgrim’s chest, the two tumbling against one another before disappearing over the side of the spire.
“The Empress!” one of the surviving Astartes called, rushing to the edge to see where they had fallen. Soon the golden barrier surrounding the group disappeared, some of the weaker prisoners whimpering again as their greatest defense fell. The Khan’s warriors looked back to him. “Orders, my lord?”
“... We must make for the docks,” he said, turning towards the darkened path. “The Empress will survive.”
...
It was in moments like these that Celestia missed having wings.
She tumbled through the air, trying to focus her powers to stabilize herself before she hit the ground. Fortunately tackling Fulgrim had not cost her her sword, the fiery blade still in her grasp as she hurtled towards the next spire.
Unfortunately, Fulgrim was much less hindered by falling.
He swept down at her, lashing out with his snake tail to try and snag Celestia as she fell. She spun and focused her power, a fireball exploding in the Daemon Primarch’s face and forcing him back. Fulgrim hissed, twisting away in search for another opening while Celestia shifted her power once more, searching for a clear spot on the spire before releasing.
With a flash Celestia’s momentum shifted, tumbling forward as her portal brought her back to level ground. The wraithbone crunched underneath her armor, small flecks flying up in her face as she crashed into the spire. Finally she came to a stop, Celestia coughing as she pushed off the ground and surveyed her surroundings.
Eldar and daemons clashed with one another, sweeping around the spire in a deadly dance. With their transports the aliens could dance just out of reach of most of the daemons attacks, letting off quick bursts of gunfire before zipping away, but the daemons natural speed and psychic powers meant not all could escape. They seemed to pay no mind to Celestia, focusing on their dance of death without wishing to give up any perceived advantage.
Off course, surrounded by enemies... I’ll need to clear a path.
She jogged forward, just as Fulgrim landed to her right. He rushed forward, snaking past several downed Venoms before leaping the last few meters towards Celestia, stabbing down with two swords while swiping the lower two towards her stomach. She stepped back, smashing aside the upper blades with her gauntlet while staying out of reach of the lower swords. “Deprive me of my audience if you must,” Fulgrim said, dodging a blast of Warpfire from Celestia. “That does not change the fact that it will be I who strikes down the Emperor of Mankind this day.”
“You think yourself capable of a task not even the gods could achieve?” Celestia countered, keeping her sword in front of her as Fulgrim circled around. “Your time as a slave to darkness has warped your mind far more than it has your body.”
“I am perfection made manifest, now that this Dark God has struck down Slaanesh.” Fulgrim swooped forward, smashing his tail into the ground to force Celestia back. “Horus and Lorgar deluded themselves, thinking their brute strength and base comprehension would win them the day. But I am far beyond those weaklings, for I have achieved all that anyone could possibly strive towards!”
“A cowardly master and a futile delusion.” Celestia deadpanned. “I am truly sorry that you have fallen to such a lowly position.”
“And yet you will still fall by my blades.” Fulgrim lunged, spinning his blades around in a whirlwind of steel. Celestia battered two of the blades aside with her sword before sweeping out with her gauntlet, her talons sinking into Fulgrim’s flesh just behind his shoulder blades. As the Primarch screamed in a disgusting mix of pain and delight, Celestia yanked her arm around towards her back, hurling the Daemon Primarch over her shoulder. Fulgrim landed with a crash, a sizeable crater left over as he rolled back over and leapt back into the fight.
Celestia planted her feet and clenched her gauntlet into a fist. The air around her exploded once more, fire racing over her armor as she cast her second spell and stepped to her side. Fulgrim broke through the flames and stabbed, catching the image Celestia left behind in the chest with two of his swords. Before he realized his mistake Celestia struck the Primarch, blasting him in the face with a bolt of light as she dug into his mind, overloading as many sensory nodes she could reach with her power.
He seemed to enjoy that.
“Oh yes, the pain!” He cried, twisting about as be broke free from Celestia’s grasp. “How have I longed for a moment like this! Perhaps I should have tested my mettle against Magnus before I found you!”
“You oversell yourself, Fulgrim,” Celestia replied, bringing her hand down to pin Fulgrim to the ground with a column of force. “You think you possess strength, that your devotion to pleasure and ‘perfection’ has made you beyond what you were, but all I see is one who plays as the king when he is nothing more than a child.” Fulgrim opened his mouth to counter, but Celestia dragged her hand downward to push the Primarch further into the wraithbone. “Your skill has struck only air, and you lie broken before me.”
“No, Emperor... I am not so easily bested.” Fulgrim’s body glowed, and before Celestia could react the Daemon Primarch disappeared, melting into the wraithbone in a cloud of light. Celestia turned, scanning for any sign of her opponent before Fulgrim burst from the ground, simultaneously attacking with his swords and a bolt of psychic energy as he came down atop Celestia.
Celestia stepped back, bracing with a psychic shield as he brought her sword out to deflect all the incoming attacks. Fulgrim surged forward, his swords shimmering as he attacked at speeds all but impossible to see with the naked eye, a current of wind rushing over the two as they fought. Celestia found herself forced back, channeling her power to slow time around her to easier match Fulgrim’s strikes.
“I have learned, Emperor! More than you could ever conjure against me!” Fulgrim howled as he stabbed and slashed at anything resembling Celestia. “I am the embodiment of man and daemon perfection! The strength of Mortarion, the speed of Angron, the knowledge of Magnus! I am the true champion of Mankind and Chaos, and you shall grovel before my majesty as I take my place upon the Golden Throne!”
“No matter what you say, you are still a child.” Celestia stepped to her left, forcing Fulgrim to overstep with his strike. She whipped her sword around, hoping to split the daemon in two with a downward strike, but two of Fulgrim's swords flashed out to catch her before her sword made contact. The Primarch spun and slashed at her, Celestia dodging so the blades only shredded her cape. Fulgrim turned and brought his swords down again, Celestia bracing as she blocked them before punching Fulgrim in the stomach with her gauntlet.
Celestia pressed in, drawing from the Warp once more to blind Fulgrim. But the Primarch was ready, his own power allowing him to quickly shunt away and leave Celestia out in the open. Fulgrim conjured another bolt of power, slinging it towards Celestia’s head in an effort to force her back once more. With a growl she shifted her power, catching the bolt as she dove to the side to narrowly avoid Fulgrim’s blades. Just as Fulgrim again turned towards her she released the bolt, turning it so it smashed clean through Fulgrim’s chest and out through his back.
The two stood in silence, Fulgrim seemingly held in place before he began to dissolve. “Hah, a clever trick!” he chortled, grinning down at Celestia as more of his being was dragged back into the Warp. “But even striking me with my own power will only delay the end of our duel. I will hunt you, Emperor, and I will revel in your screaming as I gut you upon the Altar of Pleasure.”
“Enough of this,” Celestia said, drawing back as she continued. “Chaos has made you weak, prideful. You are but a shell of what you were in my service, Fulgrim, a slave to uncaring masters who will cast you aside when they are finished with you.”
“And you weren’t?” Celestia’s jaw clenched as Fulgrim disappeared back into the Warp. “I will see you soon, Emperor. I will enjoy that very much...” With the Primarch banished once more, Celestia was alone. The battle had shifted away from her, moving up into the higher spires of Commorragh as she stood on the lone spire, an errant wind tugging at her hair and cape as she search for an enemy... and perhaps now, her allies.
No, Fulgrim, Celestia thought, bringing her sword around and marching back towards the fighting. Not anymore...
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Holy Emperor, that went pear-shaped fast!
Also, story's on the Featured list!
9605573 Indeed
great chapter :D
You know, I appreciate that even when noting that the daemons of Slaanesh are scantily clad, you leave it at that. Just a, "hey, this is their thing, moving on." I really appreciate that. A lesser author would say more and damage a good story with smut. Instead, you give us the Empress kicking teeth in and doing her best to save everyone, even if it's beyond her. Way better.
Well that went to hell fast.
I hope Celestia will be able to “save” the universe before she sends Twilight home. Then again this universe has so little hope all she is doing now is barely registering on the galactic scales. Still I can't wait until the Orc’s decide to enter the fray and add their “fun” into the mix.
9605768 As it does. Makes things more fun*
9605714 Yeah, I never got that. I always saw them as shriveled monsters that only appear attractive from a distance (Dark Eldar are the same way). And as you say, it bogs the story down; I've got a galaxy-wide Apocalypse to deal with, no time for smut.
Fulgrim always was tilted. When your ships of war are well known across the Emperium for being ‘the prettiest’ when you are still human, then you switch sides and worship the god of debauchery? Can’t say I was the least bit surprised at his dementia, but it still made me shudder.
I personally like the idea of fleets of billions of Starhammer class accompanying Combat Planets and Dyson Spheres, capable of brute force erasing every star in a galaxy at the speed of travel. then the Harvesters coming along behind them to feed the Magrathean fleet, rebulding the stars and planets as required.
The Starhammers alone wont even stress the resources of a single Terran solar system.
How well do Ork Swarms usually fare against Saturated Thermobaric Erasure? Can they breathe fire, plasma, vaccuum?
9606220
Yes, they can. If a single Ork Mek cones up eith, say, Supa 'Eavy Starsuckin' Armour, then the Orks can now breath in coronal mass ejections. Did you cleanse every Ork spore from the last fight? Because if you didn't, there's now an Ork infestation using bastardized versions of your tech, and burning your worlds with it. Ork tech literally works on "clap your hands if you want to believe" so is completely worthless in anyone else's hands. Oh, and the more they fight, the stronger they get.
Dark Eldar use anti-stars to power their rifles.
Tyranids are what The Flood want to be when they grow up.
Armies billions strong are the first wave for the Imperial Guard.
The universe uses literal Hell as a shortcut.
40K works on "everything turned up to 11, then set on anti-fire with occasional grimderp", it's why it's so much dumb fun when done right, and so dumb when done wrong.
I just had a thought now I’m curious. Would Luna be the primarchs sister or their aunt? It’s just a very weird question.
9607255
I love your description of the 40k universe. It's spot on!
9607301 Yes.
In all honesty, I haven't really given it that much thought because it is a bit confusing. On one hand, Luna's basically a slightly weaker clone of Celestia grown from her own blood, so she is the Primarch's sister in that way. On the other hand, Celestia refused to be identified as Luna's mother and they treat each other as sisters, so she would be their aunt in that respect. Since most of them don't even know Luna exists at this point, it's academic at this time.
Wow, who knew the Emperor was so weak. So many battles, and yet not a single important enemy has died. She is here, at full strength, fighting one on one, and still lost. How the mighty have fallen to such low ranks.
9608792 If GW can have their contrived coincidences as to why only three (four if you count Alpharius) Primarchs out of eighteen died in the Horus Heresy, I can have mine.
9611125
Very true. For other races, the Alpha Legion showing up to wreck stuff would be an alert for battle stations; for the Dark Eldar, it's an open-invite party for violence.
I also love how the Alpha Legion trickery is in effect here; "Alpharius" is simultaneously raiding Solemnace (while successfully disposing of a bunch of Chaos ships without revealing his loyalties) and Commoragh at the same time. I am Alpharius, and so are you, and so is the guy who just gave us orders!
9612212
Plus, it would be hard for Emps to blend in if he was a fucking giant, and aside from being a Perpetual and Alpha Plus Psyker, he's still technically fully human
9609060
Plus, Celly's main goal was freeing SpeedyBoi and friends
https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/perfectly-reasonable-my-little-pony-friendship-is-magic-calcs.255294/
I just want to point out that ponies are monsters. They are fucking scary and it’s not unbelievable for them to fucking murder space marines. I chose to believe that Celestia made mini primarchs/custodies/space marines on purpose. Because this is just batshit insane. If she had the option to make her own new species overpowered she would do it. I’m just waiting for twilight to realize she’s basically a mini primarch right now.
Would it piss Fulgrim off if we told him that the Empress’s beautiful rainbow hair is still more fabulous than his white locks. I mean he is a vain asshat.