Haratan.
Through his helmet's lenses, Vulkan watched as Gann, a Pyre Guard, led his Chapter towards the walls, his storm shield raised.
He had selected seven Pyre Guard. Their spirit of self-sacrifice and self-reliance far exceeded that of any other warrior.
They could fight as a unit or individually.
Each Pyre Guard commanded a Chapter. Gann, their assault specialist, was given the task of breaching the walls.
He turned to the other Pyre Guard beside him, who had not been assigned tasks.
He taught them.
"You are my finest sons. My most trusted advisors."
"Father shaped us into an expeditionary force, to bring fire and light to the darkest reaches of the galaxy. Our task is to be humanity's shield."
"We come to Haratan as liberators, not conquerors. Ruins and corpses do not create civilizations."
Igataron, who preferred to stand in the shadows, unlike the other Pyre Guard, frowned. "And our cousins? Will they uphold this principle?"
Vulkan noticed Gann's spearhead was less than fifty meters from the walls. The defenders within were not firing.
A shadow fell across his crimson eyes. He quickened his pace silently.
"If the Night Lords abandon these principles, I will seek an accounting from my brother."
"Father, the city is shrouded in darkness." Gann's voice came through the comm channel. Vulkan quickened his pace. He could already smell the rotting stench of corpses.
His expression changed. He ran.
CRASH!
He vaulted onto the wall, looking down at the twisted bodies of the defenders among the shattered rubble.
"They were slaughtered." Gann reported after examining the gruesome scene.
Vulkan leaped down, looking towards Haratan's center.
Soldiers' bodies in the barracks were flayed and disemboweled.
The piles of corpses were still burning. Oily smoke filled the air.
Spikes impaled city officials. Civilians hung from the air, swinging.
His gaze finally settled on the bloodstains painted on the walls. He did not speak the language, but recognized the crude script, and the sharp edges of the marks.
Nostraman.
He opened his comm channel, switched frequencies, and waited in silence. After a moment, he heard a screeching laugh, like a vulture's.
"Curze, what have you done?"
"Spared you the dirty work." Konrad Curze's voice was mocking. "You were still giving orders to your sons."
"My orders were to take Numin with minimal bloodshed." Vulkan said loudly.
"I don't take orders from you. And my way is better." Curze said shrilly.
"Better for whom? You slaughtered an entire city. Men, women, children died. Such slaughter is Angron's way." Vulkan denied it outright. "You should learn from your other brothers. Nareth would not do this."
"Don't confuse me with our hot-headed brother." Curze stepped from the shadows at the fire's edge.
"And don't forget, Nareth also wielded the blade on Terra."
"I looked into it. Those nobles had spoken against all of us, and the Astartes." Vulkan's armor was a marine-green, scaled like a reptile, adorned with rare quartz. He stared at his brother, clad in midnight-blue armor, etched with the marks of destruction and death.
"He was warning the nobles, not slaughtering them." Vulkan shook his head. "Of course, I would advise him to use other means."
"Nareth provides protection for many worlds. His fortress-grade void shields protect them from xenos and disasters."
Curze's raptor gaze swept over the Salamander, decorated with flame motifs, settling on a squad of black-armored warriors. A river and a sudden shadow flashed through his mind.
His face paled. Vulkan stepped forward, his massive form looming over him. "Look at the consequences of your actions."
"What consequences?" Curze's laughter ceased. He grew serious. "I took this world for you. When the rebels across the planet hear what we did to one of their cities, what do you think they will do?"
"They will cower in fear, weeping, begging for mercy."
"This is the gift I bring you."
Vulkan shook his head. "Fear is not a gift. I will not accept it."
"Fear is the only thing they understand." Curze vanished into the shadows. "You all need to learn that."
"We must quicken our pace. Get ahead of Curze." Vulkan said.
"Liberate them from the Aeldar. Offer them our protection."
At the same moment, in the fourth layer of the Kingdom of Disorder, amidst the black mist, Nareth sat enthroned high.
He scrolled through his data slate. Swimming figures flashed past.
He paused. He looked at a figure covered in dark red scales, its large lower body slapping against the rocks.
'Naktis has not only Obnis, but also mermaids!'
'William Wood can now advance to "Marionettist."'
He already had other "Marionettist" ingredients, like the Gorgon serpents on Calth. He only needed the mermaids.
'I must say, Arkhan Land has good taste. He chose a fine homeworld for Vulkan's sons during the Ultima Founding.'
As he thought, he set down the data-slate. He extended his psychic energy, touching the deep blue orb.
He saw thick tentacles rising from the seafloor, attacking the black Stormbird where Szczesny, Chapter Master of the Ninth Chapter, 1st Company Captain Jorginho, and Librarian Nicholas stood.
With a thought, potion ingredients like the Saharduin and the transparent, jellyfish-like Jaleek appeared beside the furnace. The space simian rapidly began concocting the "Ocean Songster" potion.
He also watched the scene in the orb. Szczesny channeled spiritual energy into a green teardrop talisman and shouted in Dunnic.
"Silence!"
The tentacles froze. The three, in black robes, leaped.
SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH!
They fell into the water, swimming towards the monster beneath the surface, large enough to swallow a destroyer.
The Obnis's patterned, black body was massive and twisted. It had three heads, each with fifteen eyes, each glowing green.
They each swam towards one of the three heads, swimming into the slowly closing mouths.
They followed the winding, twisting passages of flesh, swimming deep within.
With a gurgle, the water rushed inward. They tumbled in the waves, swimming through the flesh tunnel, into the dark, lightless belly.
As the slime corroded their black robes, they raised their hands. A layer of water formed around them.
It expanded, forming a transparent sphere, enveloping them.
Nareth turned his hand. Three blue potions appeared.
With a thought, black mist churned in the Obnis's belly. The three potions appeared in Szczesny's, Jorginho's, and Nicholas's hands.
Nicholas examined his potion. It was without ripple or bubble, like an ocean pregnant with a storm.
They drank together. The cold liquid numbed their throats.
As the cold numbness spread to their stomachs, they heard countless voices. All the creatures of Naktis's ocean were singing in unison.
The three Astartes immediately deactivated their Lyman's Ears.
The sounds became muffled, but still faintly audible.
THUD, THUD...
As their two hearts pumped, the Obnis's mouths completely closed. The three in its stomach seemed to sink into a completely isolated world of darkness.
As their hearts pumped, blood, psychic energy, and sound surged.
Their throats tore and healed.
Their throats itched. They roared in unison.
In the roar, their spirits tore slightly. As the sound waves spread, mottled scales grew on their skin, then were pulled into fleshy strips, waving like tentacles.
The sound waves, carrying the spirit fragments, struck the slime, then rebounded, pouring back into them.
Black mist churned. The Black Emperor, enthroned high, spoke with a commanding voice. "Sing!"
The three instinctively obeyed, singing in unison.
Szczesny, a worker's son, had the loudest voice.
Jorginho, raised by the sea, was hoarse.
Nicholas, born in the storms of Fenris, had a voice like scraping.
The songs echoed, rebounding. The sonic forge honed their bodies.
In the song, they gradually reined in the overflowing psychic energy.
They clasped their hands, fingers pointing downwards, praising and thanking the Black Emperor.
"Thank You, my Lord."
The three newly promoted "Ocean Songsters" thanked the Black Emperor, then swam up, to the closed, jagged teeth.
They looked at each other. Jorginho spoke.
"I'll do it."
The "Ocean Songster" recalled the songs of the Sea-Cradle, praising the Black Emperor's arrival, saving them from the Fra'al xenos. He began to sing.
"The coral sea stained red..."
As the "Ocean Songster's" beautiful voice echoed, the dazed Obnis opened its closed mouths.
It sang. The three were expelled.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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