Chapter 92: The Warp-Touched Beast
Silence filled the war room. Only the ship's steady hum remained, plasma conduits and gravity generators keeping them alive in the void.
The officers looked at each other with confusion and barely hidden frustration at their Primarch's unusual approach.
A scarred staff officer stepped forward. "Lord Primarch, you don't need to handle this personally. The colony refuses to join the Imperium. Standard protocol demands immediate military action."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the commanders. "We can't waste time on a steam-powered backwater," another officer added.
"Countless human worlds need the Emperor's light. Every hour we spend talking condemns other colonies to suffering."
Captain Merir's mechanical eye whirred as it focused on the display. "What right does a backwards world have to bargain with the Imperium? Show them our firepower. They'll surrender quickly enough."
Astelan and Luther stayed silent, though their faces showed agreement. The Great Crusade was unstoppable. Worlds joined willingly, or Imperial forces brought them into line through strength.
No third option existed.
Lion El'Jonson rose from his command throne. Everyone in the chamber straightened.
He gestured toward the central display, expanding it until countless star systems filled the air like glowing dust.
"My father declared that the galaxy belongs to humanity," the Primarch began.
"The Imperium exists to fulfil this destiny. But we must never forget the key question: why do we seek such power?"
His eyes swept across each face, measuring their reactions.
"For power? Glory? Conquest?" Lion's tone made these motivations sound worthless.
"Those are just side effects of our true purpose. The Great Crusade serves humanity's welfare. We unite our scattered species. We ensure every human enjoys the prosperity and freedom that belongs to them."
He paused, letting this sink in.
"Consider what we face. A colony with only steam technology refuses visitors who cross the stars. They reject offers of better science and living conditions. Doesn't this seem strange to you?"
The question hung in the recycled air.
"Perhaps religious fanaticism drives their defiance. Perhaps harsh oppression convinced them that change means death. Every mystery hides truth. We must find that truth before we act."
"War should be our last option, used only after we've tried everything else."
"Lord Primarch, such thoroughness takes too much time," the staff officer protested. "While we debate with one stubborn world, millions of our people suffer under alien rule or worse."
Lion's voice hardened. "We cannot sacrifice our principles for speed. If we abandon our humanity to win, what kind of Imperium do we build?"
He gestured toward Bale IV's orbital display. "I will learn why they resist as quickly as possible. Then we'll decide their fate with full knowledge."
Commander Seran stepped forward, seeing that further argument was pointless. "One week, Lord Primarch. If peaceful resolution proves impossible, we proceed with military action."
"One day will be enough," Lion replied confidently. "Before this fleet reaches Bale IV's orbit, I'll have their secrets and return with answers."
"Lord Primarch," Astelan interrupted, concern showing, "such haste invites unnecessary risk—"
The older warrior's look suggested caution, warning that failure would damage the Primarch's reputation.
"One week, then," Seran declared with finality. "Out of respect for your judgment."
Lion accepted their counsel gracefully, understanding their protective instincts.
Hours later, a single vessel broke from the Fourth Fleet's formation, its plasma drive painting blue fire across the void.
The craft bore the First Legion's symbols and carried precious cargo, and a Primarch who sought answers.
Upon reaching stable orbit around Bale IV, Lion contacted the diplomatic mission.
Their leader, a woman named Afuka, possessed the enhanced features common among the void-born: bionic eyes that gleamed like sapphires, synthetic skin designed for temperature extremes, and the bearing of someone who had mastered complex negotiations.
They met aboard the orbital station's observation deck, where Bale IV's surface spread below like ice and shadow.
The world fled its sun, racing toward deep space's cold embrace before gravity would eventually drag it back toward warmth.
"Lord Primarch," Afuka began after formal greetings, "the situation hasn't changed. They refuse all offers of technological advancement and better living conditions. As their world enters the cold season, their hostility has grown. They now refuse direct communication entirely."
Lion studied the planet's swirling storm systems, watching atmospheric currents carry snow across continents.
"The strategic council wanted immediate military action. I was alone in advocating patience. Perhaps I misjudged their stubbornness."
"Initially, I thought the same," Afuka admitted. "Yet during our final contact, I detected something unusual. Their defiance carried desperation, almost pleading. They offered ancestral artifacts as tribute if we would simply leave and never return."
She pulled a paper fragment from her pouch. "I found this in my clothing after leaving their settlement. Someone slipped it to me without my knowledge."
Lion accepted the document, noting its aged parchment and careful preservation. The text described a children's tale about a lonely orphan who built a space-dwelling creature that came to life, defeated his enemies, and made him king.
"A fairy tale," he murmured, though his enhanced mind saw deeper meanings.
"From the protagonist's view, this is wish fulfilment. From any other perspective, it describes horror beyond comprehension."
Afuka's bionic eyes brightened with understanding. "You believe this creature truly exists? That someone on Bale IV commands such a monster?"
"The evidence suggests it," Lion confirmed. "A lone individual, perhaps having lost everything, summoned something from the Warp's depths. With its power, he conquered their world and now rules through terror."
"Then why refuse Imperial aid? Surely they'd welcome liberation from such tyranny?"
Lion's expression darkened as possibilities multiplied.
"Several explanations exist. They may distrust our motives, having suffered under false saviours before. They might be willing collaborators who benefit from the current regime. Most concerning, they could be under direct mental control, unable to act against their oppressor despite knowing their situation."
Afuka asked, "Shall I prepare additional security for planetary insertion?" Her earlier confidence had been replaced by caution.
The Primarch's smile carried predatory satisfaction. "I am the Lord of Caliban, son of the Emperor of Mankind. Whatever darkness this world hides, it won't find me wanting."
* * *
Several Stormbirds descended through Bale IV's atmosphere, their armored hulls enduring the planet's violent weather.
The world's surface lay buried beneath pristine snow that gleamed like diamonds under the distant sun's fading light.
Settlements clustered around geothermal vents and within hollowed-out mountains, desperate havens against the approaching deep cold.
Their destination was a palace carved from living rock, its entrance showing architectural grandeur that spoke of the Dark Age of Technology rather than steam-age decline.
The structure's sophistication suggested that Bale IV's current primitiveness was a fall rather than natural development.
"Stay alert," Afuka warned the security detail as their transport settled onto a landing platform. "Previous visits met armed resistance."
This time, however, no defenders emerged. The silence felt more threatening than any weapon.
"My lord," the pilot's voice crackled through the vox-system, "shall I respond with lethal force if we encounter hostility?"
"Negative," Lion commanded. "Warning shots only, unless our survival depends on it."
Stepping onto the platform revealed the source of the unnatural quiet. Surface fortifications lay in ruins, their defenders scattered as frozen corpses across blood-stained snow.
Bodies bore terrible wounds—not the clean damage of modern weapons, but savage tears from claws and fangs.
Astelan's scanner detected faint Warp signatures in the area, too weak to locate but strong enough to confirm supernatural involvement.
"Subspace energy present, Lord Primarch. Source unidentified."
Lion knelt beside one of the fallen defenders, examining wounds that spoke of overwhelming savagery. The victim's arm bore an intricate snowflake marking, apparently some form of cultural identification.
"Their tradition, according to our intelligence," Afuka explained when questioned.
"Perhaps more than mere custom," Lion observed, his enhanced senses detecting faint psychic resonance from the symbol.
They proceeded through the mountain's carved passages, following corridors that displayed mastery far beyond the colony's supposed capabilities. The internal city was a masterwork of human engineering, its soaring chambers and elegant archways speaking of golden ages long past.
Yet death had visited every chamber. Bodies lay scattered throughout the complex, their faces frozen in terror. Blood had crystallized in the cold, creating grim sculptures that witnessed unimaginable violence.
"Such butchery," Luther growled, his knuckles white where they gripped his weapon. "What kind of beast commits such atrocities?"
"We'll discover the truth and exact appropriate vengeance," Astelan replied, though his voice carried uncertainty that ill-suited a veteran of countless campaigns.
Lion remained silent, his consciousness processing sensory input through filters enhanced by the Emperor's genetic artistry. Something waited ahead, something that existed partially in the material realm and partially beyond it.
At the palace's heart, they found their answer.
A creature of impossible size crouched before massive doors, its maw working methodically as it consumed human remains. Five meters of corded muscle and yellowed bone, crowned with a bestial head that featured too-intelligent eyes and fangs designed for tearing flesh.
When it sensed their approach, the thing turned toward them with movements that suggested predatory anticipation rather than surprise. Its mouth split in a mockery of human expression—a smile that belonged on no sane creature's face.
"Humans," it spoke in a voice that mimicked childish innocence while conveying infinite malice. "More humans."
Astelan's bolt pistol spoke first, its shells exploding against invisible barriers that surrounded the creature. Other weapons joined the assault, achieving nothing but light shows as their ammunition deflected harmlessly.
The beast moved with supernatural speed, crossing impossible distances in heartbeats. Claws designed for butchery swept toward Lion's skull with force sufficient to decapitate lesser beings.
But Lion El'Jonson was no lesser being.
His sword intercepted the strike with perfect precision, steel meeting daemonic claw in sparks. Without pause, his free hand delivered a blow that sent the creature tumbling across blood-slicked stone.
The daemon attempted to rise, only to find itself pressed against the floor by forces it couldn't see or understand.
Lion's genetic heritage included more than enhanced physicality; the Emperor had blessed his sons with capabilities that transcended material limitations.
An invisible blade of absolute sharpness descended upon the immobilized creature, separating its head from its shoulders with surgical precision.
The severed skull rolled across stone until it came to rest in a pool of human blood, its eyes maintaining their hateful glare even in death.
As Lion prepared to examine their fallen enemy, a weak sound drew his attention—the labored breathing of someone clinging to life despite terrible wounds.
An elderly man in rich robes lay crumpled near the palace entrance, his throat torn, but his eyes still holding intelligence.
The Primarch knelt beside the dying ruler, recognizing him as the source of the hidden message that had brought them here.
"What happened in this place?" Lion asked gently, his voice carrying compassion despite the carnage surrounding them.
"The... the curse," the old man gasped, blood frothing on his lips. "It has returned. Stranger... in the deepest vaults... You will find... the truth you seek."
With those words, the final witness to Bale IV's tragedy passed away, leaving Lion and his companions alone with mysteries yet to unravel.
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