"In the name of Humanity, you are sentenced to death. May your souls perish in the warp," the Space Marine declared, after which the soldiers of the Imperial Army began to slit the throats of the prisoners one by one, warming a single sword with the blood of the xenos.
On their knees, fully humbled, the defenders of Rangda died, unable to find the strength to fight their last battle with dignity. Well, what could you expect from them? A unit formed a week ago from new recruits who had not been shot at. How could they look war in the face and not flinch? Probably the same as their other comrades, who understood that it was not the existence of the state that was at stake, but the existence of their species itself.
The Space Marine himself watched closely as the blood slowly began to flow in defiance of the laws of physics. It moved toward the blade, following the souls, and slowly the cursed metal changed its color. This weapon was extremely dangerous even by the standards of cursed artefacts. The metal it was made of was mined in the Eye of Terror, a gigantic anomaly the size of hundreds and thousands of stars, where the Immaterium merged with the physical world.
Mere mortals could not live there, and sometimes things happened on the planets that even one attempt to describe would drive both the speaker and the listener mad. The Eye of Terror appeared not so long ago, and the reason for it was the fall from grace of the vile, pointy-eared xenos, who by their vices gave birth to She Who Thirsts, the Dark Prince, Slaanesh.
It was a tragedy for the galaxy, now left with a terrible wound, but for Mankind it was an opportunity. The mighty Eldar had fallen, and it was Mankind's turn to carve their own path to greatness. From the darkness of the Age of Strife a people had risen, led by the Emperor himself and the Imperial Truths, whose colours were sadly beginning to fade.
And the reason for this was not only the desire of individual legions to go beyond the limits of what was permitted, but also the natural weakness of people who themselves did not even notice how they created another cult of personality and elevated, albeit an outstanding, but equally mortal, to the rank of a god. After all, the human species was young and tens and hundreds of thousands of years must pass before such flaws are eradicated.
But did Humanity have that much time? Would anyone wait until the main competitor became invincible? No, it was necessary to act now, despite all the risks and dangers.
I sat in my Knight, my shield and the Voice of Death covered the crystal, preventing the power of the artefact from breaking through at the most inopportune moment. The Space Marine beneath my feet meanwhile took the weapon saturated with hopelessness and turned his gaze to the sky. Viral bombs rushed from orbit and exploded one after another a thousand kilometers away from us. The planet was already dead, trees would never grow on it again and not a single fish would appear in the seas. However, both humans and Rangdans, and other xenos - they all survived even in such conditions, like a virus that could not be stopped.
"It's time," I boomed, receiving an order from Moiran.
Once again, countless hordes of soldiers rushed into battle. The Imperium used several strategies and tactics in this battle. In some areas of the front, thousands of shells exploded every hour, preventing the xenos from even showing their heads, while in others, the Imperial Army forces operated in relatively small groups of up to battalion size, cutting through and encircling enemy fortifications with light and maneuverable vehicles.
However, the best effect was achieved where commanders showed initiative in a timely manner and revealed the maximum potential of a particular tactic. Therefore, often immediately after a massive artillery barrage, a formidable tank fist would rush into battle, but at the same time, space marines would already advance along the flanks, closing the pincers and turning any transfer of enemy forces into a meat grinder.
But even so, the forces of the Imperium almost never managed to encircle the enemy and surround his armies for subsequent destruction. Largely due to the extensive network of underground tunnels, and of course, when the risk of encirclement arose, the Rangdans simply stopped retreating. At the cost of much greater losses, they continued to hold out, and we were left with a choice: a heavy and bloodless offensive at any cost, or fire control of the remaining supply corridors.
I found myself in one of these places. We had almost surrounded one of the enemy's fortresses, there was only a corridor some twenty kilometers wide. And although the artillery was firing non-stop, and the fighter engines were humming in the sky, the Rangdans continued to hold out in the hellish heat, delivering supplies at the cost of huge losses, despite the constant collapse of tunnels due to pinpoint strikes from orbit.
Gareth fired tirelessly, plasma flashes lit up the night and xenos bodies exploded, but they simply did not end. We killed a thousand, but two more were already being brought to the fortress embrasures. We blew up one pillbox, and at the same second, under the rubble, among the fiery explosions, the enemy engineers restored two more, again placing fighters there who would be destroyed in half an hour. And so on for a week, a real madness that so pleased Khorne, who also participated in this war both directly through the daemons and through the gaps in our souls, which were constantly engulfed by both hatred and anger.
The order was given, this fortress had been a thorn in the side for too long and it was decided to take it at any cost. For the operation, two strike forces of thirteen Knights, two thousand units of heavy equipment, eleven thousand armored personnel carriers and more than two hundred thousand soldiers and a thousand warriors Astartes were assembled. Moving towards each other, we had to take control of the last twenty kilometers and close the hand of the Imperium on the throat of the enemy.
But right at the very beginning of the offensive we began to suffer insane losses. Every three meters there was a mine, every twenty meters there was a hole with kamikaze robots, and immediately missiles from underground mines soared into the sky, bringing down the power of kiloton warheads on us. And of course, the enemies themselves opened the emergency reserves with lightning speed, giving all the remaining shells and energy cells to the enemy. They did not leave even the last bullet for themselves, because Rangda has always been famous for its hospitality.
I fired my spear at random into the ground beneath me, as the enemy lurked everywhere. My last bolt cannon fired tirelessly, but it was unclear whether I was hitting or missing. My armor was heating up from the constant shelling, and one by one the last ion shields covering each xenotech armor plate were being cut off.
Lancelot was the first to stop communicating, his Knight had been through thousands of battles, a battle with sorcerers and traitors on Camelot, a tragedy in the warp, he broke on the eleventh kilometer of the nameless fortress of Hereleiana. Space Marines died next to him, never having had time to understand why the use of dark artefacts had suddenly become the norm. And a string of millions of lights sent the souls of soldiers full of confusion into the warp, praising the atheistic Imperial Truths, considering the Emperor God and with His name on their lips fighting side by side with those who arranged sacrifices right on the battlefield.
Everything was entangled in sheer madness, where all understanding of good and evil had disappeared. It was difficult to remember what the battle was about, because every second the situation required thinking only about how to more effectively destroy the enemy, which never ended and never ended, responding to the unwavering attack with an unwavering defense. Rangda and the Imperium were much more alike than chroniclers will be allowed to say in the future.
My mind was melting and the collar was beeping non-stop. My spine was covered in crystal, as the Throne Mechanicum itself began to let in the corruption of the warp. Without realizing it, I was fighting the collar and allowing the dark forces to help me in this. The current was not as strong because of the layer of rainbow glass that had formed, replacing the skin on my neck.
The crystal on the shield shattered into a thousand pieces, creating a hole through which the sound wave of the Death's Voice rushed forward, exploding the heads of xenos and sometimes causing allies to fall unconscious. The cursed artefact did not belong to Tzeentch, but he experienced indescribable pleasure when playing with other people's toys. But of course, he liked watching his plan come to life much more. What would happen here was considered one of his best plays and the first chord of the apotheosis of the Great Manipulator.
All the figures were placed and followed the given scenario exactly, but still something made him return to these events again and again and try to see a mistake in the ideal. I did not think about all this, although I should have. However, everything that was happening for me was not the past, something that had already happened. For me, it was the present, where I considered it entirely possible to change something and possibly disrupt the plans of the dark forces.
Ironically, Mordred thought so too.
*
Reinforcements from neighboring systems were already flying towards Hereliana, the desperate attack of the Eleventh Legion was akin to jumping into the mouth of a dragon. And the worse the situation became, the darker Moiran became and the louder the voices of the dark gods began to whisper. The loyal son of the Emperor could no longer stop, all that was left was to go to the end and trust in fate. It was obvious, predictable and stupid.
At the same time, the space around and inside the Fortuna flagship began to distort. Too much psychic energy was concentrated in one place, and when Moiran realized that the offensive was bogged down, he was forced to take another step towards his destiny. The spaceship trembled from the power of the ritual, and the nature of each person was put to the test, which was much more terrible than ground battles.
Adam felt that something was happening that could not be protected from. An unknown force was changing the laws of the universe and demonstrating the power that had guided the entire mortal world since the beginning of time. The crew's only chance was to rely on faith. Clinging to books and icons, repeating prayers, they tried to attract His attention, to intervene in the horror and return the lost to the path of truth.
So Adam himself did not notice how he became the center of the sermon. Thousands of people came to him, crowding the hall and the corridors leading to it. He was not religious, could not boast of knowledge of religious works, and in general only recently began to use faith. However, when one person came to him, then a second and a third ... they asked for healing that neither medicine, nor knowledge, nor surgical operations could provide.
Faith became the medicine, because the wound was in the souls, but like all doctors, Adam understood perfectly well that everything is poison and medicine. The only question is the dosage and how soon faith will become the opium of the people. This scared him, but he could do nothing and instructed everyone himself, telling about what he himself did not believe in.
"It doesn't matter what words you say or in what order, what matters is the message and the purity of your intentions," Adam explained, feeling like a vile liar and tearing his own soul apart with every look into his eyes, which were full of hope. "But remember that a lot depends on you too. The Emperor is one and He fights tirelessly for us, so do everything in your power first. After all, that is why He sent you here."
Suddenly, a lump formed in Adam's throat. He had already seen the shadows playing on the ceiling. Then, too, it all began with such a trifle. However, this time, Moiran deliberately led his followers to hell, believing that by passing this test, we would all become stronger and deserve the Emperor's forgiveness. But the more we strove for this, the further we moved from the light of Truth.
Unable to control his voice, Adam turned his attention to his assistant. A silent, gray-haired man who spent most of his time on his knees, clutching the amulet with His Face on it and muttering to himself. He was the only survivor of that demonic massacre in the cursed lower deck. His survival was a miracle, and very quickly he became a messiah, a saint who, in the opinion of the common people, knew something they did not understand.
Adam himself almost believed this, and when the pressure of the dark forces became too strong, he turned to the messiah for help. The time for revelation had come, if not now, then never. Approaching him under the gaze of all those gathered, Adam simply looked at the saint and he understood everything without words.
— I lived a humble life and served the ship from the moment I drew my first breath. Born in the darkness of the compartment, never having set foot on land or seen the seas, I knew only steel and the void that became my home. I had nothing and I had everything. I did not bathe in luxury and every day I thought only about where to get food for dinner. My calloused hands dragged tons of cargo, but I never complained, because in my cabin my family was waiting for me. My beloved wife and bright children ... - the saint said, and his hands began to tremble, his knuckles turned white and even a crunch of joints was heard, so tightly did he squeeze the amulet. - I was with them when punishment descended on us for our sins.
Everyone listened attentively and could not look away. As if they had fallen victim to some spell, all those gathered became unwitting prisoners of his every word. Light shone in the darkness where innocent souls had wandered and now it was time to come out to the Truth.
— Voices screamed everywhere, the faces of monsters distorted the hulls and the Fortuna cried blood, my home was plunged into darkness. One by one, people went mad and looking into the eyes of my wife, who raised a knife, I understood... understood how bottomless pain can be and how weak a person is before the darkness that awaits us where we never expect it, — the saint's voice began to break, he stopped blinking and began to shake, blood flowed from under his nails, sprinkling the frost-covered floor. — And the voice told me what I must do. And I did it, without a second's hesitation. One by one, I killed all the traitors and madmen who fell victim to their own sins. I broke her skull with a pipe, I opened the throat of a possessed soldier with a knife and shot the traitors of the Faith with his lasgun. The Emperor led me, I became a conductor of his will!
Adam jumped up in horror, but looking around he fully realized what was happening. It was too late to change anything and the best he could do was run away, again.
- And to get through this madness and save your souls, you must prove the strength of your Faith! - the madman screamed, and blood began to flow from his eyes and ears, changing the reality around him and opening the curtain through which the demon was trying to break out. - Sacrifice! Only it can save you! The more you give, the more significance your goal will acquire! In His name, I killed my family and friends, and now I will give my life! The Emperor speaks in me!
The amulet fell to the floor with a clang, the frowning face of the Emperor frozen in it, distorted by the warp, and the dark forces took on his image, pushing another mortal into the abyss, dragging thousands of others with him. One by one, everyone who heard this speech began to kill themselves and each other, believing that they were doing this at the will of the Emperor for the sake of saving their souls.
Only Adam ran, pushing aside the madmen who didn't care about him. They were a valuable sacrifice, and Adam wasn't one, because he had no family or friends here, and after all these years in space, Adam had somehow managed to remain alone, despite the fact that tens of thousands of patients had passed through him.
"Alarm! ALARM!!!" Adam shouted, breaking out of the corridor and hoping that someone would hear him.
And they heard him. At the next turn, Adam crashed into a space marine as if he were a wall. He looked at him with a dazed look, as well as at the squad that already knew about what had happened.
"The demon broke through there! In the hall! They all... they all listened to him and... and now they're killing each other, something needs to..." Adam began to explain in a panic, but suddenly fell silent.
There was no time to figure out what had happened. And even if there was a possibility that Adam really wasn't possessed and wasn't the cause of what had happened, it was safer to kill everyone anyway. The enemies would burn in the righteous fire, and the innocent would have to play the role of martyrs.
The space marine gave a laconic order without any emotion:
- Eliminate every single one of them.
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