#I had to fire off some expectation-lowering shots to rebuild my energy.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In the shape of you, something new.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[bigowlenergy]

science

Daniel Phantom shoots out of the portal uncontrollably, skids directly into ectoproof concrete, and just lays there. Everything is frozen for a few seconds. Machines whir softly, something bubbles, the portal hums, the proximity alarm shuts off. Vlad raises his visor.

“Is there a reason you flew like a bat out of hell into my lab, little badger?”

A small sob is his only answer.

“I see,” Vlad says diplomatically. “As flattered as I am by your sudden emotional vulnerability, I do hope you aren’t expecting me to say something comforting.”

“Shut up,” Daniel rasps, pushing himself to sit up and wiping harshly at his eyes. They are already lined with dark green and puffy. Must be almost finished, then. No injuries, no farther retreating, no acrid smell of blaster fire following him like a cloud, no outright attack on Vlad’s person. Not an emergency, then - except to the overemotional college student crying on Vlad’s doorstep. Again.

“Oh, good.” Vlad lowers the visor and returns to welding.

As intriguing and drama ridden as Daniel’s life is these days, Vlad is not about to poke that monologing bear if he isn’t required to. One bout of tears per month is plenty, thank you.

Vlad does not quite begrudge their truce, but if he had known what playing mentor to Daniel had meant in terms of emotional labour some five years ago, well. He might never have expressed the interest at all. This is the fifth instance of Daniel using his portal to escape something trivial in as many months. Vlad is fully desensitized to it.

He leaves the gloves on as he hefts the modified cannon on his shoulder and lines up with the portal.

“Out of the way, Daniel. M-bot, begin recording and activate trackers. Ballistics test number four, with additional fire power.”

Daniel grumbles and dramatically flops over before floating to the back of the lab. The shot of energy collides with the open portal with quite the light show. It’s as bright as the welding torch, but arcs with eclectic discharge half the length of the lab. The kickback is impressive, but Vlad’s no amateur with high powered weaponry and can deadlift up to 850 pounds comfortably in human form besides.

M-bot pings brightly and the screen array behind the blast shield lights up, showing the damage to the targeted ruins some miles away in the ghost zone. The castle walls have already begun to rebuild themselves from the earlier testing, but the newest blast has eaten through the dense, ancient ectoplasm with a decent amount of promise. M-bot is timing the rate of decay, so Vlad should probably deal with Daniel before he gets bored and does something drastic to the lab. Or the fridge.

He sets the cannon back into its cradle and lifts the visor.

“Well? Out with it.”

“Val broke up with me. I think, I don’t know. She found out.” Daniel blurts out, looking half panicked, half resigned.

It takes Vlad a minute to parse that.

“What did you do? If you’ve alerted Miss Gray to us -”

“No! She just. Said she saw something on her ghost security system. You didn’t give her one, did you?”

“Of course not.” Says Vlad, honestly affronted. He’s not stupid enough to record in his own home labs above the second subbasement; why on earth would he ever give a hunter with routine access to his person any sort of recording device? Moreover, what did she see?

Actually, more pressing issue -

“You didn’t lead her here, did you? I swear I will end your entire afterlife if you did.”

“No,” Says Danny sullenly from where he’s drifted back down to the floor. “I took the lake portal.”

A relationship confrontation in the forest? At this time of night? That’s quite a distance from his portal’s location in the ghost zone. Must have been on the run for some time, then. Vlad is getting sucked in to the drama, but isn’t about to ask the first question.

“I did warn you about cultivating relationships with humans. You only have yourself to blame, little badger.” If you can’t function as a shining example then serve as a horrible warning, and all that. Vlad might have opted out of learning his own lesson the hard way, but only because he saw that trainwreck coming from a dimension away and deigned to acknowledge it about twenty years too early. Or three years too late, depending on the calendar. A ghost in a relationship with hunters will end poorly; it isn’t rocket science. But then again, Danny’s practically majoring in rocket science, so naturally the shoe will fall on the other end of the idiom.

It’s almost impressive, really.

Daniel frowns fiercely and crosses his arms over a loop of his tail, looking oddly small when he isn’t looming about a foot above Vlad, his favorite vantage point. He still looks like a wreck, but at least he isn’t using Vlad’s blasting chamber to contain a breakdown fueled Wail, a la midterms. Small blessings.

“Whatever.” Daniel mutters, staring hard at the scorched floor. “Don’t wanna hear about it from Mr. Attempted Homewrecker.”

Vlad shrugs. He knows what he’s about.

“I suppose you’ll be expecting me to allow you to hide out here? Unless you were looking for advice on disposing of a body. You never did make the ending of that confrontation clear.”

“No!” Daniel snaps, finally rising up. “I’m not you. She’s just - we’re just.” He deflates, uncrossing his arms and floating about in silence for a long moment. “I’m going to go pet Mad Cat. Whenever that thing you’re making works, I’ll be back to kick your ass for it.” And then he’s gone.

Wonderful. If he eats all of Vlad’s icecream again, there will be consequences.

He drops the shield over his face and retrieves the cannon. Ah, the stress relief of the predictable type of explosions.

“Looking forward to it, little badger. Ballistics test number five: repeated damaged before total re-adhesion. Begin recording.”

[very-very-dizzy]

20

Seaweed-20

Sorry if this one took a long while! The idea started out small, but actually turned into a short nearly 2k fic. For this prompt, I had some good ideas on what to do but they were mostly spoilers so went with this! For who takes narrative? A good question.

(Warning for dark themes, injury, death)

--------

Heavy footsteps slammed against metallic floors. Each in rhythm as they marched forward. Those in sync each adorned two strands of seaweed on their goggles. A symbol that told of their superiority over all else.

There would be no peace as their song was one of execution.

An octoling young enough where she neared her humanoid form but still hadn't developed full tentacles, ran for her life. Avoiding other octarians as they all ran from the sound of marching. In her arms, she carried a younger octoling who clung tightly to her shirt..

Years before the octoling had found them thrown out into her dome just like other defects. Taking them in as a sibling and showing them to her small family. It was common in the outer domes for octarians to form groups as survival alone was hopeless. Although, they both would have to worry later about their family as finding a place to hide them was currently more important.

Finding a small gap against a building’s wall, the octoling stopped and set their sibling inside. Grabbing a frame from a nearby pile of panels and using it to cover the gap. It was an area she would hide them each time elites came through their dome. While not her size, it was enough to keep her little sibling hidden.

“[Stay in there and remember to not move.]” She whispered.

Once seeing that the panel was secured, the octoling grabbed a few pieces of scrap metal. She crept away from the hiding spot, but stopped as multiple voices grew in volume. Looking quickly for somewhere to hide, she found a spot behind a box as footsteps came closer.

A shout caused all of the footsteps to pause. The octoling covered her mouth as someone walked over to where she hid. Giving a small thud as they sat down on the box she hid behind. Throwing aside their octoshot to where she hid.

“[Hey Lake! How’s that other Ida doing? Heard they’re already working on the Great Octoweapons in Slimeskin Garrison.]”

Eyes wide, the octoling knew who they were speaking to. A cruel monster that led many platoons through her dome. She started to shiver in fear as their voice, a voice she’d grown to dread, spoke up with its gruff tone.

Colonel Lake Ida.

“[Don’t know how much she’s doing personally. Labs keep a close eye on keeping information hidden, but they never get anything past me.]” Lake paused before continuing again, “[Anyway, heard she already figured out how to change her forms. Kid’s already 14 and doing things I never could have at her age.]”

“[Really?]” Another soldier asked.

“[Of course. While those pebbles think she’s got to be isolated, I’m planning on giving her a visit soon. Heard she’s been given some training but still hesitates with executing opponents.]” She let out a laugh, “[Although, what’s amazing is that she is building weapons that’ll splat those disgusting squids, achieving perfect scores, and being top notch in physical activities. Makes me jealous of her levels of intelligence, but at least I’m still  better than you low-grades.]”

The group of soldiers broke into laughter. Although a few were quiet growls could be heard at their response. Once they stopped, a nervous voice spoke up amongst them. With how quiet they were, it was easy to guess they were someone new.

“[Um… Colonel Ida? Why are we out out here in the outer domes?]” 

“[To perform our duty of preserving the Octarian Empire. Out here, there’s mutant and throw-outs that our government wastes donating supplies and energy to. That’s why it is up to us to lower their numbers.]” Lake responded.

A small noise of discomfort was made. “[Do the higher-ups know?]”

“[Of course, but they don’t want to make it public. DJ Octavio knows the public would make a large fuss over providing for these weaklings. So, that’s why our task is a simple task that must be done for the greater good.]”

“[So we are to splat all in sight?]” There was a hint of uncertainty in the nervous elite’s voice.

“[Affirmative, but also to capture and release. A little game of inspiring fear into any that try to fight back. It’s also more fun to play around by having them try to run again.]” A panicked blurb sounded as a box away from them was smashed. Following after were shots of ink fired from an octoshot. “[They hold no power over us so don’t worry about them trying to report you, because they’ve seen your face. Do not forget we are superior over them, and I am above you all.]”

“[That’s correct! Now let’s head out!]” The more cheerful voice spoke out. It wasn’t hard to figure out they were Colonel Ida’s right-hand.

As the rest of the soldiers left, the octoling crept out from her hiding spot. Deciding to take off towards a small shelter. Sweat pouring off her face as continued to run. Breaths staggering with each step taken as her body screamed to keep going.

Until she turned one corner and slammed against a wall. Having forgotten before that there had been reconstruction to rebuild a home that crumbled after time. Too focused on her own self, she hadn’t heard footsteps from behind.

“[Seems you made a wrong turn, kid.]”

Freezing up in fear, the octoling refused to turn around. Her mind screamed to run knowing full well that she had been caught. It was now life or death, and she needed to flee or fight.

“[It’s you again!]” Lake beamed, a grin donning her face. “[How much of a delight this is being I get a second chance at killing you.]”

The young octoling attempted to make an escape, but was grabbed as Lake picked her up with ease. She repeatedly slammed the small octoling against a wall, until deciding enough was done. Knowing they wouldn’t be unconscious as she had held back her strength.

“[Don’t think I forgot about last time. How a pathetic weakling like you managed to scratch my face. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure this time you won’t get a chance to run again.]”

As the octoling struggled to push herself up, she didn’t expect Lake to grab her again. This time, throwing her against a window, which shattered upon impact. Shards of glass digging into her side as she landed upon a dirt floor.

Vision fading in and out, her body felt as if it had been set ablaze from inside. Sharp prinpicks kept stabbing at her arms. Her own tentacles ached with pain from the harsh landing. Picking at her eyes’ edge were droplets of tears ready to fall. Ready for her to give in and break down from the pain.

The young octoling closed her eyes, awaiting for her misery to already end at the elite’s hand. A sound made her open her eyes, and she found herself staring directly into a pair of green eyes with pink peanut shape irises. A clawed hand suddenly grabbed her by the neck, and lifted her upward.

“[Looks like I found you-]”

Lake was cut off as a jagged scrap of metal was pushed into her throat by the octoling. Dropping the octoling, she continued to grasp at the gaping laceration. Making an attempt to stop as more of a turquoise liquid pushed out as her wound opened further once she pulled the metal shard out.

“[BRAT! I’LL-]” Lake broke into heavy coughing.

While unknown to the both of them, multiple octarians burst from a closet inside the building. Each going behind it and using their weight to push it down. Giving enough force that it eventually did fell upon the bleeding elite, but not the young octoling.

After the large noise from impact, shouts from outside came and made everyone inside panic. An octotrooper made its way over to the young octoling and pushed against her side. Their eyes were filled with fear knowing that they all wouldn’t have time. “[Hurry! Go!]”

Opening her mouth, the young octoling prepared to respond but felt something round press against her leg.

Ot, an octoball, and part of her family. While he hadn’t been in their family for long, she saw him as an older brother. He would aid her in supply runs whenever their stock would get low. Although now she feared they wouldn’t be after what had occurred.

“[Uu’oa, sister. We will distract them, and take fault.]” Ot spoke, “[What’ve you done has saved us from one monster.]”

“[B-But -]” She attempted to say, but was shoved by another octarian. More kept pushing against her as others ran to form a blockade against the other door. Shouts from outside growing louder.

“[Go! Hide! Then find G87-8!]” Ot shouted, pushing her through a back door.

With tears, the octoling nodded and limped away. Holding back sobs as she heard weapons being fired. It wouldn’t take long until she reached a small piece of panel.  Deciding it would be enough for her to hide in. Crawling under it, she finally let herself cry.

Barely able to process from what had occurred in just moments before.

As hours passed by, the young octoling woke up at the sound of voices. Two different ones from what she had heard before when Colonel Ida was giving her orders.

“[So what do we do about, Colonel Ida?]” One of the asked, seemingly tired.

“[We say she died because of dome debris. It’s what we use to excuse any deaths out here.]” They let out a small grunt. “[Anyway, our only priority is to get the injured out. We’ll tell Ida’s First Lieutenant about all of it after she’s in the med bay.]”

Slowly peeking out, the octoling noticed both had already left. Through more inspection, she confirmed it was safe to head back towards her little sibling. Going back to where she had left them.

Pulling away the panel, she nearly cried from relief. Seeing they were unharmed, she took them back out, and pulled her younger sibling into a tight hug. She would wait to tell them what had happened to Ot, not until they both were with their family. 

“[Are you okay?]” She asked them. Giving a little smile as they responded with a small nod.

Stepping away from their hiding spot, she walked into a crowd of fellow octarians. Seeing others with emptiness in their or tears as they sobbed for those that had been lost to the execution. A numbness filled their hearts as they knew it wouldn’t be the last. 

Seaweed.

It was that cursed object that became a symbol of death for them.

Swearing on her life, the octoling swore  to never adone the seaweed headpiece and become the monsters that marched through their dome.

Instead, she’ll become something they fear.

…

MEMORY REACQUISITION COMPLETE.

REPLAY?

TERMINATE?

OVERWRITE?

TRANSFER?

>[Terminate.]

MEMORY TERMIN-

ERROR.

>[Terminate.]

ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. CORRUPTION FOUND. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.

>[Retrieve Subject Status.]

SUBJECT 8,380: SANITIZED.

>[Retrieve Subject Orders]

ON STANDBY. 

>[Retrieve Subject Location.]

.

..

...MISSING.

[templarhalo]

The Master of Mankind’s return Chapter 3: Reunited (The face you make when your boss’ fourteenth son shows up and beats the crap out of you, your best friend and two of your boss’ sons.)

@sisterofsilence @asklotarasarrin @ask-tribune-ra

The formless wastes were formless.  Constantin Valdor should have expected this considering what the name of this section of the Warp was, but the plainness of the environment was boring.  Apart from the occasional redoubt full of daemons and the battles between Slaneesh and Khorne’s minions in the distance, there was nothing but planes of grey veined with black purplish liquid.

Valdor let a sigh and continued onwards.  Beside him Leman Russ sniffed the air, his Power Axe Helwinter at the ready.

“You seem frustrated Leman.”  Valdor said.

“Aye, our weapons have not tasted maleficarum flesh or drunken traitor blood for quite some time, it makes me impatient whatever trap the enemy has set.”

“Have no fear, we are breaking into the realm of a Chaos God, and there will be no shortage of foes for our blades.”

“I'm just glad there’s a way to bring him back.  If I was still on my lonesome I wouldn't have known the tree of life had been destroyed my Vaerangi would have been killed for nothing and I would have left Bjorn and my sons for nothing.”

If he was being honest, Leman’s frankness on his emotions surprised him considering his somewhat antagonistic relationship with the Captain-General. The two had fought side by side many times, not just when Prospero burned, but during the Rangdan Xenocides and other battles when the Emperor and Arlette graced the sixth legion with their presence.  A good relationship on the battlefield did not always translate to a good relationship off it.  

“You are not the only one who’s left people they care about behind for the sake of duty.”  Valdor said as he scratched his beard.  He would need to shave it soon, at the next available opportunity, even if Jenetia said it looked good on him.

“Yer talking about stepmother right?”  Leman said.

“Not just her, there was a Ligo Aetos named Aella, she assisted Arlette with her duties.  I promised I would be there when she became a member of the Legio.  I do not liking breaking promises.”

“There is something more isn’t it?’  Rogal spoke up.  The seventh son of his King held Leman’s Sword of Balenight in his remaining hand.

“I fear that when we return the Imperium it may be too late.  That the Emperor and everyone we know and loved the species we fought for will be gone or consumed by Chaos, or worse.  That the Imperium we return too will be not the one we swore to protect and were willing to shed blood for.”

Valdor admitted.  Saying those words hurt, but it was like ripping off a bandage.

Rogal sighed.

“You overthink things Captain-General.  If the Imperium is not the one we swore to protect we shall tear it down and rebuild it.  If it still stands and if my father is gone, it does not matter, for his internment on the Golden Throne meant he was no longer with us anyway.  The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men and women to do nothing.  And we are not doing anything.”

Constantin considered the primarchs.

“I forget how eloquent you can be sometimes.”

“Think nothing of it, let us continue, to victory or death.”  Rogal said.

+Blunt as ever+ Jenetia signed.  +But I share your concerns old friend.  +

The four continued for an hour in silence.

Valdor expected Leman to break the silence, but it was not he who was responsible.  It was the sound of wings

The figure was tall as a Contemptor Dreadnought, his armor was the color of sickness, a rotten green that made Valdor’s eyes water.  His face made an ogryn look handsome.  His eyes were a putrid white with no irises.  His lower jar obscured by a rebreather.  What remained of his ugly, corrupted features was obscured by a purple cowl.  Two wings sprouted from his back in a sick mockery of an angel.  They were tattered, brown things with holes so big, the laws of reality would have to be shattered for them to be capable of flight.

“”It has been a long time.”  Mortarion, fourteenth son of the Emperor of Mankind, Primarch of the Death Guard, Daemon Prince of Nurgle greeted.

“By the throne brother, I can't believe I am saying this, but you got uglier.”  Leman said.

“Spare me your jokes brother.  You know why I am here.”  Mortarion rasped.  The Daemon Primarch’s voice set Valdor’s teeth on edge.  It was a raspy slimy tone that no mortal lips could ever produce.  

“Yer here because you’ve become a god’s bitch.”  Leman snarled all traces of his humor forgotten.  

“As blunt as he is, he is right.”  Rogal growled.

“And you are charming as ever brother.”

“You lost the right to call me brother long ago.  You are no longer family.  You are a monster that must be put down like the cur you are.”  Rogal said.  His voice was like the growl of a chainsword.

“Speaking of putting down curs, did you know Horus’ First Captain Abaddon killed your beloved Sigismund?  From what I hear, your beloved Champion died like an old dog.  I must say the new Warmaster granted him mercy.  “Mortarion sneered.

Rogal remained unmoving.  His blues eyes were as cold as his homeworld.

“Tell me, Mortarion that the wounds Nathaniel Garro gave you still throb?  Do they keep you up at night, knowing that for all your boasting and your newfound power, he struck you down?  How did Nurgle feel when you lost not to your father or a primarch in single combat but an Astartes, one of your own sons no less?”  Valdor responded

“I am the Clarion's call!  I am the Tyrant’s fall!”  Those had been the last words of Malcador’s Knight-Errant before he stabbed his father in the heart and banished him.

Mortarion snarled.  “Tell me Captain-General, Nathaniel Garro sacrificed his life, but for all your devotion and skill, why does the Corpse Emperor not walk among his people?  I’m surprised Arlette did not blame you for His death.  You two bickered a lot; did you come to blows in your grief?  Why did she keep you around after you failed the one task you were created for?”

It that moment Valdor’s anger rose to a crescendo.  Mortarion and the other traitors had never seen the outcome of the Siege.  They had fled like the cowards they were.  They had not seen the surviving Ligo Aetos in their huddled masses, many missing broodparents or friends, their innocence and happiness shattered by the destruction wrought on their only home and the death and horrors they had witnessed.   

They had not buried a Custodes who had taken their own life in the dead of night.   

They had not seen the Blood Angels wander aimlessly, stumbling over the corpses of their brothers and sisters, their eyes bloodshot, their hands shaking as they recovered gene-seed, arms and ammunition.

 They had not seen the Imperial Fists in their broken golden yellow armor rebuild the walls and what remained of the Palace, only to stare at the tools in their hands like they had forgotten how to use them.  

They had not seen the White Scars pace like caged animals, grinding their teeth and humming mourning songs from Chogoris.  

And they had not seen Arlette grieve.  They were not there when Valdor and Jenetia had to physically carry her away from His enthroned body to clean her, eat and sleep.

Valdor snarled like a wolf, raised the Apollonian Spear and shot Mortarion in the head.  The daemon’s head snapped back, only to tilt forward as flesh regenerated.

In Mortarion's right hand was the scythe known as Silence, in his left was the baroque shenlongi energy pistol known as Lantern.   

The primarch lunged with a blow that Valdor narrowly dodged,   an inch closer and Valdor’s well known Mohawk and the top of his head would have been sliced off.

Valdor jammed his Spear deep into Mortarion’s chest.  The primarch hissed in pain and Valdor found himself staring down the barrel of Lantern.  Before the Custodian’s head could be disintegrated, the silver blade of Veracity sliced the hand holding the pistol off.  

Mortarion howled in pain, not just from his wound, but from the agony of being in the presence of Jenetia Krole.  .

The daemon took to the air his pistol forgotten.  Leman drew his combi-bolter Scornsplitter and open fire.  Mortarion   swooped down and brought Silence in   descending arc.  Leman holstered his empty firearm and brought the Axe of Helwinter to bear in a two handed grip.  The two weapons met in a clash of fenrisian steel and the corrupted metal.  Sparks flew for a good minute, than Mortarion send Leman flying back in a shroud of green gas and buzzing flies.  Jenetia moved to the Wolf King’s side to dispel the sorcery while Valdor and Rogal lunged at Mortarion.

Mortarion swatted their blows aside and telekinetically pulled his pistol to his hand.  A purple bolt of energy collided with Rogal’s chest.  The primarch roared in pain and buried his sword in the skull of his erstwhile brother.

Before the primarch could lash out with his scythe, Valdor removed Mortarion’s left hand with a stroke of his spear.  He then plunged it in the primarchs heart.  Mortarion laughed.  The daemon primarch was a blur as he slammed his fist into Valdor’s face.  The blow knocked Valdor back. With his freshly regenerated left hand .Mortartrion wrapped his hand around Rogal’s neck and shot in him the chest with Lantern.  He then flicked him aside telekinetically with contemptuous ease.  Mortarion cracked his fingers and a warp portal opened.

Fourteen Deathshroud Terminators emerged, Power Scythes raised.  They uttered no battle cry, but marched in lockstep.  Leman set upon them with his axe and teeth, while Jenetia circled her advancing foes like a lioness, Veracity ready to behead her opponents.

“Kill the pariah.”  Mortarion ordered.  The Deathshroud lumbered forward.

As Mortarion continued his relentless assault, Valdor realized three things.

Mortarion was healing from his injuries as fast as they were inflicted.

      2. Mortarion would never tire due to his connection to the Warp

      3. He was probably going to die before Jenetia and Leman could reach him

All in the span of a minute Valdor processed and accepted this information.  He and Mortarion continued their clash.  Another minute passed.  Than another.     

With a backhand sweep of Silence, the Apollonian Spear was knocked out of his hands.  Valdor calmly drew his Misericordia and lept forward to bury the long dagger into Mortarion’s eye socket.  The primarch staggered back and Valdor lost his grip in the blade.  Before Valdor could react, Mortarion’s struck back,   the scythe’s blade cut deep to Valdor’s torso, a few inches deeper and he would have been cut in half.  He then raked his monstrous weapon across Valdor’s face, destroying his right eye and biting all the way to his skull.  Valdor toppled backwards.  He suddenly felt very cold and very warm at the same time.  His vision became distorted, grey slowly edging across what was once in color.

“I expected better from you.”  Mortarion said as he plucked the dagger out of his eye and tossed it to the ground.

“So did I, So did the Emperor.”  Valdor rasped.

“Don’t make me laugh Valdor.  The Emperor only wanted a weapon.  He never cared about my struggles.  He killed a man who kept me shackled only to put his own pair of shackles on me.”

“The way I remember it, He save you from death.  Did you know that He told me that your betrayal shocked him almost as much as Horus?”

“I can’t imagine why.”  Mortarion scoffed.

“Because you knew what it was like to be weak.  He thought you, out of all his sons would appreciate the strength you were born with, and use it responsibly.”

Mortarion paused.

Out of the corner of Constantin's eye he could make out Jenetia and Leman fighting.  Jenetia stabbed a Deathshroud in the knee, and then pushed Veracity into his throat.  Leman Russ cut a Deathshroud in half from head to groin.  Rogal Dorn, his features a picture of rage and pain smote two of the scythe wielding terminators with a single blow.

Mortarion loomed over him.  In that moment, Valdor felt fear.  Fear that he would die with his duty undone.  He felt the sharp crushing feeling of failure.  It settled on him heavily, although it could be the poisons that Silence was coated in attacking his muscles and nervous system.

  The last thing he saw before unconsciousness took him away was Mortarion raising Silence.

“Goodbye Constantin Valdor.”  Mortarion said softly.  

A barrage of heliothermic bolt rounds obliterated Mortarion’s torso.  The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

A  Custodes strode forward, a black fur shawl d and mourning cloak draped over their golden armor.  In one hand a Lastrum Storm Bolter sang a song of death, in the other, an Adrathic destructor added to the cacophony with a deem thrum!  sound.  The energy beam from the archaic type of weapon the Emperor had taken great pains to ensure only his Custodes and the men and women he favored  left a Deathshroud Terminator naught but ash and  Mortarion’s rotten pus dripping body  was  incinerated, tainted warp matter in the shape of flesh seared like a fresh steak on the grill.  

While the Custodes advanced, Leman and his brother dealt with the remaining Deathshroud,

Jenetia followed, although with only a fraction of her usual speed, her silver armor was stained red from a wound she had taken to the chest.  

Mortarion laughed with a phlegmy rumble.  “Your Captain-General lies dying at my feet.  What make you stand a chance you pathetic husk of gene-tech.  I will kill you and feed your bones to my Nurglings.  Your skull will be used as a grenade to carry Nurgle’s Rot!”

The Custodes responded by tossing a Melta bomb in his face.  The Custodes than mag-locked the Adrathic Destructor to her thigh and began pummeling Mortarion's rapidly restoring features with bolter fire from her Guardian Spear.  The Soulless Queen vaulted over the Custodes Veracity poised to deliver a crushing, two-handed blow,

The last thing Mortarion saw was the Zweihander’s blade splitting his skull, and the rheumy laughter of the god he sold his soul too.  

The witch hunter and adopted daughter of the Emperor landed like a cat.  She sheathed Veracity and stared at the Custodes.  

The Auramite armor Custodes wore did not bear, the conventional insignia used by Space Marines and Imperial Army.  Rank, caste, Shield-Company and Shield Host was indicated by the color of the left shoulder pads, the type of gems embedded in the Custodes armor, the color of thearmor, and the robes and tabards.

Jenetia hid her shock that someone else bore the hidden signs that indicated they were Tribune of the Companions.

+Is Arlette dead?+   Jenetia asked.

“She disappeared twenty years after I became a Custodian. “  The Custodes replied.

+How long have we been gone?  + Jenetia asked.

“Since you and him left?  A little over a century.”  The Custodes said.

Jenetia paused to digest that information.

+I would have the name of the Custodes who took the role once held by the only non-pariah I considered a sister in arms.  +

The Custodes chuckled.

“As you command Knight-Commander Krole.”  They replied.

With a hiss of an unlatched seal the plumed, conical helm was removed.

Beneath the helm was a young women's face.  Her black hair was neck length to make it more comfortable when she wore her helm.  Her skin was the brown of the ethnic group referred to as Kazakh, although slightly lighter due to the Celtic gene-stock the Emperor mixed in when he created this particular Custodes.  She had a strong jawline and angular cheeks.      

Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate, but there was fierceness in them, a defiant, almost stubborn refusal to accept fate and to persevere.  To press onwards whatever the odds.  To hear what people said, nod and tell them to frack off before they beat them to death with their bare hands if that’s what it took to succeed.

Jenetia like the look, in this Custodes it reminded her lot of Arlette and her own Sisters.

“I am Aella Hypatia Enyo , Tribune of the Companions.  Daughter of Shield-Captain  Asclepius Phoebus Reticules of the Hykanatoi Prefect Gaius Alanaus Brennus of the Tharantoi and Primus Medicae Danak Tendai of the Fangs of the Emperor.  And I have been sent by  our King to aid you in your quest.”

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