Chapter 23: Prepare for a Rainy Day
Medical Bay
"You may depart when the Custodes arrive. I'm perfectly fine, don't trouble yourselves with concern."
Francis placed a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. He'd seen their distress earlier and realized he'd failed to warn them about his fake condition. They'd truly believed something terrible had happened to their gene-father, and each warrior had grown so anxious they'd nearly attacked the Apothecaries who couldn't find anything wrong.
Now their eyes were red from weeping, like frightened children. The mighty Soul Drinkers reduced to tears over their Primarch.
"Recite the mission I've given you," Francis commanded. He'd just assigned them something of paramount importance.
"Understood, lord. We're to inform Primarch Magnus that he must contact Angron. We'll tell him that you possess the means to heal his affliction. Should he desire treatment, he must come to Terra to seek your aid."
Sarpedon repeated every word carefully.
"Perfect. Get ready, they'll be back soon." Francis nodded.
"My lord, why can't we help with the treatment? We could learn these healing techniques!"
Ever since Sarpedon started getting what he called "Francis-style" treatment, he'd gotten really excited about helping others feel better, too.
Seeing how eager they looked, Francis's mouth twitched. He quickly said no. "Absolutely not! Your hands are needed elsewhere; let the dedicated personnel do their work."
The Soul Drinkers looked disappointed, but then they heard footsteps coming. They nodded and got ready to leave. The mission came first.
Hiss~
The medical bay doors opened, and Valoris walked in with several Custodes and Silent Sisters. Valoris carried a large basin of warm water himself. When he saw Francis curled up on the bed, holding his stomach, the Captain-General knew they couldn't wait any longer.
Sarpedon nodded to Valoris and led his battle-brothers out.
"Lord Primarch Francis, what do you need? How can we help?" Valoris asked, clearly worried.
Francis pretended to wake up and opened his eyes to look at everyone. Since Valoris was still hanging around, he said: "You don't need to supervise this. Wait outside while I recover."
"Let me help! It's my fault for not knowing about your condition," Valoris insisted stubbornly.
Francis paused. "Really, I don't need you here. These two are enough, and more people would just get in the way. This ritual involves something called 'destiny,' and you don't have the right spiritual connection for it."
Hearing this explanation, Valoris had no choice but to leave reluctantly.
Only one Custodian and one Silent Sister stayed. Francis looked at them seriously.
"The technique I'm going to teach you is incredibly potent. Once you master it, you might even be able to help the Emperor feel better. This is lost archeotech from the golden age."
When they heard this, their eyes immediately lit up with determination. For the Emperor!
Francis took off his power armour boots and put his feet in the warm water. The heat spread from his feet through his whole body, and he felt much better.
Custodes: ??? Silent Sister: ???
"Look, this is an ancient human technique that makes your body feel better by pressing on specific points. Come here, Custodian! I'll teach you the real foot massage methods. And you, Sister, your gentle touch is perfect for shoulder work."
Francis carefully taught them both, and they slowly got better at it, though they still seemed doubtful.
"Does this really work, my lord? You're not lying to us, are you?"
"Trust me, the genetic information I carry proves this method works. The Emperor himself will need your help!"
This got them to work twice as hard immediately.
The Custodian learned techniques such as using one finger with the knuckle, pressing with the thumb, kneading with the palm, moving his fingers in patterns, and tapping for stimulation. The Silent Sister, with her natural 'untouchable' abilities, was amazingly good at working on backs, necks, and heads.
Francis, who'd been completely exhausted, felt restored by what they were doing.
After a while, Francis shifted to get more comfortable. "You've both mastered these techniques. Now you have the important job of helping the Emperor feel less tired!"
When both warriors heard they might serve the Emperor directly, they were absolutely thrilled.
"For the Emperor"
"For the Emperor"
Their natural skill was amazing. Even with this, the Custodes and Silent Sisters proved they were exceptionally talented. They picked up the concepts quickly and hit every pressure point perfectly. The Custodian would often ask thoughtfully, "How does this feel, my lord?"
Francis always answered: "Excellent! Keep doing exactly that!"
Before they reached Terra, Francis would be very comfortable. But his main worry was whether he'd be locked up when they got back to the Throneworld.
So getting in touch with Angron was his best plan.
By now, they should be getting close to their ceasefire period. If things went as expected, the Emperor would send Leman Russ to deal with the Angron situation. Francis didn't want to miss such an amazing fight.
Because of the terrible scattering of the Primarchs, he'd grown up on the brutal world of Nuceria, forced to fight endlessly as a slave gladiator. His captors had hammered the cursed Butcher's Nails into his skull, archeotech neural implants that rewired Angron's brain to make him more aggressive.
These devices worked like crude brain surgery, constantly destroying his neural pathways. Any normal human would've died long ago. What's more, this was incredibly complex archeotech, even the Emperor and the best Tech-Priests couldn't remove them without killing Angron.
In the original timeline, Angron could only escape this curse by turning to Chaos.
Francis wasn't sure if complete healing was possible, but he had to try.
When Magnus got this message, he jumped up excitedly. "This is wonderful! I'll contact him right now!"
Just as Magnus was about to send the communication, he remembered Francis's earlier warnings about Chaos corrupting his psychic abilities.
At the same time, Sarpedon noticed his hesitation and continued, "The Primarch said that as long as you don't aim psychic energy at Terra, everything will be fine. Even if the power gets tainted, Angron's still a Primarch; it won't kill him."
"You're right! I'll tell him now."
Francis knew it was essential to limit Magnus's choices. If given multiple options, the Crimson King would think about it forever. Even though other World Eaters might get hurt, the urgency of the situation meant Francis couldn't consider every possibility.
As long as Angron survived, the World Eaters Legion would survive too.
Magnus only thought about his brother's suffering and his duty to save him.
On the ship's observation deck, Magnus got ready for his task.
Unlike a Chief Librarian who needed multiple psykers to channel group energy, Magnus, the most powerful psyker except for the Emperor, could send ultra-long-range psychic messages by himself.
He slowly raised his hands and took a deep breath, then started chanting complex spells. Each word resonated like music through the void, creating a psychic pathway toward Nuceria.
As the chanting got deeper, energy fluctuations around him got stronger, and space itself seemed to shake in response.
"Angron, salvation awaits. Francis expects you on Terra."
Brilliant light erupted from Magnus's hands and formed a thin beam that disappeared into the Warp's chaotic depths.
But within the Warp, something evil intercepted the transmission.
The beam, originally thumb-thick, suddenly expanded to wrist-width. The corrupting force wasn't satisfied with this small change. As the message travelled through that realm, the presence kept modifying and amplifying it, only letting go when the beam had been magnified more than a dozen times.
Finally satisfied, the entity allowed the corrupted transmission to exit the Warp. The message descended toward Nuceria, seeking its target.
The Red Angel's Arena
In the centre of a vast crowd, a figure stood covered with numerous dreadlock-like cranial implants. His golden power armour was stained with fresh enemy blood, and the ground around him was covered with severed heads, trophies from some brutal competition.
The beam plunged straight toward him.
[End of Chapter]
Let's hope things happen in a good way this time... hmm hm lol good times in 40k?
Hi-Hi-hi, WELL, why dont you donate some Powerstone here, brother? It would do good for me.
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