Chapter 7
It was dark…dark and cold. Cold unlike what I have ever felt since my first time outside the warmth of home, placed within the consequences of our treachery against the one true God of the Imperium.
I felt it, my life slipping beyond my hands. The coldness that came as I lost control of my body, the air that had quickly and quietly been suffocated out of my lungs. The broken bones on my shoulder pierced into the structure of my neck whose own pillars were crushed and sinking within my lower body.
Falling from a weight it could no longer support nor hold stable, unable to continue its duty to supply oxygen to my body…I felt it all. I felt the voices calling out to me, to my soul…drawing me, dragging me.
The pull was so strong that I felt a conscious need to resist, to anchor myself unto something but I could not do so, for there was nothing to hold on to. I saw it, the reality unmade into unreality. The unreal and the real blending into one, what seemed like walls breaking apart as a new plane of existence leaked itself out.
I was being pulled, being sent to an afterlife that I could not possibly fathom. I heard the voices and the cackles of a thousand blended into one, it was unimaginable and chaotic. I could feel the pull, feel the thoughts of the beings that awaited my coming.
I could not scream, I could not ask for help, I could not bargain for I deserved it…but I didn't, I wasn't meant to be here. I wasn't meant to exist here, I should be somewhere else….this shouldn't exist, It can't exist and yet I knew, deep down…I was real.
As much as I was unreal, I was born on Krieg, born with an eternal unforgivable sin that deemed my death as the only way for hope to atonement. I was Krieg as much as I was 53897-7119-01, yet I wasn't, I wasn't 53857-7119-01, I was []....I was []....
I deserved this, I deserved all that is to come. I could feel the gnawing reach for my soul, the chaotic reality that saw my mind become slowly unraveled. The piercing hate and hunger that seemed to blur in ownership, the visible shivering I could feel upon my very being.
What makes you Krieg was not your birth nor your action, it was neither your sacrifice nor your place amongst millions. It was your mindset and your mindset made you.
You cannot fear when you do not know fear, you cannot feel when the concept itself is foreign, you cannot hope for you have no foresight for a future. You cannot empathize when the cold is all you have never known. There is only now and present, only the duty given and your orders relayed. There is only an eternal sin of which we - I must lay down my life in hopes that it is forgiven.
Yet I knew fear, I knew death, I knew foresight, I knew warmth, I knew love…I knew how to live and how to care. But I was born where there was none of that, I was born in a world that demanded that I either conform or I die.
So I did, but I did not just adopt it. I did not just believe it, I lived it. I remolded it with my memories to forge a being that will survive. I have sinned against the God Emperor who I know is no God hence there is no sin but only a mistake.
Yet it is real, for the sin exists and bears down upon my very soul. I believe that my death is truly the only way that atonement is reached yet atonement in of itself cannot be achieved when there was no sin to begin with hence I cannot atone.
I can only see my fate, my predicament as punishment for my sin of which I bear from my ancestral lineage. For I knew what is not meant to be known, I knew what is not meant to exist. I did not have the mindset, I broke the mindset and remade it into something stronger, something illogical yet completely logical for it exists with no end.
I had forgotten it all, hiding it behind a facade that bore a face that did not truly exist for I knew the truth. I knew the only truth there was, I was a boy reborn into a universe….into a reality that I saw created through words and imagination.
Nothing was real and everything was real, I was but a single incomprehensible speck of dust in a sea of blood. There is only one way forward, one path to take. The emperor, Krieg and the Imperium for only I truly exist as much as I was non-existent.
Then there was a new pull, a stronger more vicious pull that seemed to prefer tearing me apart than to afford to let go. It drew me from the clutches of those who hungered for me, it pulled me away like my very soul could not possibly exist away from it.
The colours and voices blended once more together moved like one, outstretching its arms to me. But with the pull, they became fainter and fainter till there was nothing but the bleak reality of this universe. Till there was only darkness.
[_[]_]~Changing Tides~[_[]_]
Walls, cold and bleak. Dark as the night sky, burning upon the skin. The skin of a boy who laid unconscious, a boy who laid still upon a rugged floor. Then he awoke, his eyes opening to look upon the surface that seemed only inches from his face.
He blinked and that surface was meters away, far up in a place who couldn't dream of reaching. He turned, slowly standing up on his feet. The air was misty and compact, limited by the closeness of the walls beside him.
He turned to his right, staring at what seemed to be a face embedded into the wall. Frozen there for all eternity, forever more making a face of anguish and pain. He outstretched his hand, meaning to touch it but as he got closer…the wall seemed to move farther away from him.
But he was sure, very sure that it was so close to him. Close enough that he could feel his breath which bounced off the walls and touched his bare skin, still he decided to try once more. He moved to touch it but it just seemed to move even farther and farther with each step he took, then he took one more before stopping.
His foot was standing upon a half broken floor, his toes having no solid support under it. He looked downwards and saw only darkness, but a darkness that seemed to be the colour of the floor. He moved his leg, slowly and controllingly pushing it down.
Breaking the illusion of solid ground as his feet bent and bent, curving inwards rather than staying afloat. There was no solid ground there, the wall could not be reached. The boy turned to the other side and saw a similar situation.
The walls had suddenly grown apart, creating an uncrossable distance for him. But there was something else, something in the air that most would undoubtedly miss. A slight glimmer that seemed to reflect something before him.
He walked closer and closer until he was breaths away from it, he stared intensely as it. Trying to make out what exactly it was showing, he had made out a skin that was blended into the darkness of this place.
A place with no light.
There was then the lower body of two legs, tracing upwards. A waistline appeared and soon, the manhood of the boy. Further upwards was a bare chest, an average length in neck and then his face…his face that was in fact a mask.
A crude leather styled mask that connected a tube straight into the pouch that held its air filters and canteens which lay to rest upon his chest. A pouch that had its arms strewn across his chest, balanced against the coat that covered his body.
His gloved hands traced the length of the pouches legs, from its roots to his back which held an object he had not taken notice of until now. A solid backpack rested there, containing his belongings assigned to him.
He straightened his back, swinging his legs to meet each other as his boots clasped against each other. His belt holding together the feeling of his body and coat against his waist, his trousers cruised and rumbled, seemingly looking for a final spot to rest its current figure.
The boy- the soldier, stared at himself for a short while before he turned. He turned and stared into nothingness, into the darkness that seemed to echo his identity. So he began walking, moving towards the pull that wanted him.
He knew not how long he had walked nor how far he had walked, to him. It felt like he had been walking for years without stopping, his legs seemed so tired, his mouth so dry, his throat coarse and dry. Yet it also felt like he had just begun, his body feeling as good and new as it could possibly be.
Like he just had a bath and a warm meal for his stomach, all that was left was a short nice nap on a soft comfy warm bed. But he did not pay heed to it, he did not pay heed to any of them. This might all be the trickery of the warp.
As he strode forward, he noticed that the path had become mushy and difficult to move through. It was like he was pushing himself through the sea, with time passing, this feeling soon became a sight. He was in fact pushing himself through the sea.
It was however a sea of blood which against all logic did not pour out into the space that was between the walls and the narrow pathway. It was as if there was an invisible wall stopping it from overflowing, making sure it just kept packing up.
It neither flowed backwards nor forward, simply only rising in height over and over until the soldier could feel it against his shoulders. His body all but submerged apart from his head in the vast sea of floor which seemed never ending.
Yet the soldier in question who was in this predicament, seemingly about to drown, did not once stop moving his feet. Even as the force and energy needed proved to be difficult and vast, even as his legs seemed to fight against his very being.
Suddenly, like a gate opened. The sea of blood began gushing out of the pathway and into the dark space below, flowing into it until there was not a drop left in sight. The walls seemed to glisten by themselves, showing a dim coloured pattern that seemed to go for miles on end.
It didn't prove to be light as the path remained ever so dark so the soldier paid it no mind, simply walking forward. Always walking forward, towards the pull, towards the faint voice that seemed to utter his identity.
[_[]_]~Changing Tides~[_[]_]
Crippled, that was the state of the rebellion forces that stood against the hated imperium forces. Once they were making great gains against their hated oppressors but suddenly, their masters just left. The gods that had led their war effort to true freedom suddenly one day took a great amount of their most experienced force and left.
They took millions - legions away from the battlefield which had a quick devastating effect on morale. Many believed the gods had abandoned them, others up in the upper echelons of command saw this as a signal that the war was lost.
But quickly word spread around, that the angels had not forsaken them rather that they had taken a chosen select amount of them up to go meet their gods, to go serve them better elsewhere and that they would be back for them.
It was an idea, a belief that managed to hold any semblance of coordination within their ranks if it existed yet it was only one that strained the very same coordination. For many now believed that their best chance of being the chosen one was to attain glory and kills, as such choosing to break off from the larger organisation to run wild.
But that was not all their problems as elements within the higher nobility and command structure of the chaos forces began having thoughts of acquiring their own power, or growing forces loyal to them. This was especially true for those who knew or at least had an inkling on the true reason that their masters left.
They simply did not care, they had achieved what they wanted. Used them and then abandoned them to their fates, this belief only further highlighted their own need to look out for themselves. To create armies for themselves or to unite with other like minded people to create a new head that would lead the forces on this planet.
For those more ambitious but less fortunate, this also began to prove to be an opportunity to acquire fame, reputation and glory across the battlefield. With some even conspiring to remove people that could prove to be a ceiling to their rise to power.
But while the Iron Warriors were done with the planet, chaos was not. No no, chaos was far from done with this planet. After so long, its chance had finally come. It was time to grow, to spread out its claws and to harvest a bounty long since overdue for chaos comes for all.
At a certain sector within the hive world of Kellnar was a single event, an event that will forever change the face of this war. A psyker had grown too ambitious, too curious and attempted to seek the warp for more power.
He failed at this but the problem wasn't that he failed, it wasn't that he essentially lost his soul in the process…no, the problem laid in how he lost. In his foolishness, he sought great sacrifice and the use of a book tainted by the whispers of the warp.
When he performed the ritual, he performed it with multiple other psykers who were practically gates to the warp. With the amount of death that was happening close to him, the deaths of the soldiers who fought and died not just in his vicinity but on the entire planet.
His soul, his ritual became nothing short of a beacon for the denizens of the warp who gleefully flocked to it. When he died, the ritual became a gate in of itself with the other minor psykers becoming lesser gates for lesser demons. Proving to me a more temporary gate company to the permanent gate that the ritual itself had become.
A major player of the great game had its eyes upon the tear into reality, it was a forgiving and generous being of the warp who saw that this world, these people were suffering and would certainly want nothing more than his gifts.
So his followers - no, his grandchildren set out on his instructions to bring his love into a new world in reality. To bring his blessings and gifts to the poor mortals of the planet, so they began to leak into reality. Overwhelming any other minor daemons of the warp to leak in as many as their own followers as they possibly could.
In response to the constantly changing face of this war, the catastrophic loss of manpower and the lack of enough forces to really keep the war going in their favour. They put forth a call for mobilization whilst they sat upon their comfortable palaces on their own worlds or in their own cities far away from the battlefield, far and safe.
The results were a massive amount of bodies being recruited from the hive cities, thousands if not millions were quickly drafted to help stabilize the frontlines and with hopes soon, a major push would be made to finally defeat their enemies.
However, in the vastness of a scale so massive that the life of a single human remains nothing but a digit amongst digits on papers. There is a single person who sees things differently, someone who had the privilege or perhaps the unfortunate situation of surviving a lost battlefield.
Unlucky, that is how she would describe her current situation amongst many others that she had seen gone by. The word luck would perhaps not be the right word even but she wouldn't know, she never went far in her education. Still, it was better than most….her life had been better than most.
But it had hardly changed for the better, perhaps nothing had truly changed except now for a doubt in her part in anything here. Why was she here? Why did she join this cause….well it was to escape her horrid life which her oppressors forced on her.
Yet she found herself frequently being not only hungry but on the verge of death, she had done little in the name of any actual life improvement except to postpone her death for a few more days.
But it had only gotten worse especially after her commander had failed in his ritual or whatever, dying and bringing these demons. Those so close to him, those so weak quickly began to rot…you could say right before her very eyes.
She couldn't see the point in all these, she couldn't see the reason for her existence. Then there was that situation which had etched itself into her mind, imprinted like a dastardly picture that refused to be erased.
" Keep Moving " A ragged voice urged in a half hearted manner, the sounds of whips cracking in the air could be heard. Next was the sounds of slaves crying out probably from getting whipped.
The soldier increased her pace so as to not fall behind like other times, she wouldn't want a repeat of what happened a few nights ago where some young new bloods thought it would be exciting and entertaining to see her scream in pain.
The burn marks still have a lingering sting to them even after she doused some stims to help clear her mind and dim the pain.
As the days go by and the nights grow dimmer, she finds herself continuously staring at a…trophy of sorts. Something she had picked up for herself on the battlefield, she stared into the lenses of the object. Tracing the outline of its whole, the scratches and dirt upon it.
She remembered it vividly, clearly so much so that she still lives it. The moment where he stared at her…the mask stared at her, there was something wrong with it or maybe it was her. But she did know it refused to leave and those voices, those nagging whispering voices which seemed to only become clearer and less painful when she is either fighting or killing, or when she is rethinking that moment.
That singular moment that seemed too wrong to her…or maybe it was her that was wrong. Again she stared for what might have been hours at the mask, curious and confused on why that image never leaves.
" Knock Knock "
She jumped slightly, caught off guard by the sudden arrival of a person. Quickly she moved to throw the mask behind her and jump off to answer the door, except there was no door.
Before her eyes was a man, face fairly clean compared to the others. Dirty of course, but no intricate or overwhelming tattoos. His hair was oddly well kept and full, his clothing also seemed somewhat well kept especially compared to hers.
She doubted she wore any decent ones, scrounged up a piece or two from some dead bodies, slapped in some minor armour for protection on her shoulders and chest. That was it for clothing.
They all had batches and cut ins obviously but she hadn't really minded it much, never really thought about it…she never really thought about these sought of things these days.
" ehmn " The man said, using his mouth and hands to imitate a coughing sound. She wondered what he was doing here, perhaps he had come to deliver some new orders for her.
" Sir?" She said, already on her feet.
She expected some gnarly comment or some snarky remark before he spoke his words but she heard nothing, didn't really say anything actually. Just simply staring at her….nervously.
" Do you….need something?" She asked, confused.
" Well no…yes…I mean…not from the higher ups…no orders from them" He replied frantically, stumbling on his words as he rushed to form a coherent sentence. He behaved so odd, was this another ruse or attempt to use her? Another jab at trying to gain another sacrifice for their ascension to power.
" So? " She said, her voice cold and defensive. Her feet were already taking her closer to her weapons, it would be better to be ready in case a fight broke out. Her eyes were already scanning to see if there were more in his group.
" I…uh…I " He began, seemingly struggling to mutter the words that seemed stuck under his breadth. Still this could be all part of the plot to try and lower her defenses, she had seen it once. The poor guy was stabbed once he seemed relaxed and then dragged off as a sacrifice though now, there were people who volunteered for it.
It…now that she did think about it, it was crazy. There were scores of people ready, willing to sacrifice themselves, to be the sacrifices. Trying to take people now would mostly likely just because they either want to torture them or please themselves in someway.
Most tried to form their own bands of groups with those people, threatening or promising them glory after kidnapping them of course. Got to show your power and your place in the group.
Soon however, her thoughts would stop prancing around as she could feel her weapon touching the bare skin of her hands. She was ready to grab it and end this before it could grow into something worse.
" I…I….I like you! " he blurted out, looking like he had fought battles just to say those few words.
" …..What? " She blurted out unexpectedly, the words from the man not matching any of the scenarios she could have thought of. For a second, she seemed stupified by such words especially considering their current situation.
But then again…why was it so odd?, she had in what few specks of time or perhaps blinks and glances seen such things like love. She had heard about it even, maybe even seen it but she wasn't sure about that.
" I like you ... .and I would like to get together with you " he said, raising his head like he had summoned some sort of courage to stare into her eyes.
" You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and I would like to…to…." He began before trailing off like the words he looked for had been lost, you could see it visibly. He was thinking, most likely searching for some word he had probably heard off and forgotten.
The soldier stared at the man for a few good seconds, snippets of memory suddenly being recalled of a new batch of people being assembled for war. The more she looked at him, the more she reasoned that his oddness could be that he wasn't from around here.
Hadn't stayed too long here or he wouldn't be like this. She suddenly found herself making lone bets on how long his bare face would last, perhaps if he was one of those men, those well trained men in all their fancy gear.
He might have stayed more….sane, but he wasn't. Heck, she doubted that he probably was a threat to her. So she simply turned her head and fell down to the ground, resting upon the tree that was close to her.
Of course, she still kept her weapon much closer to her just in case. But now, she just searched for her trophy so she could continue staring at it until she dozed off to sleep.
" Ah, sorry for the…for not…My name is Gary…Gary trashbit. Well the surname isn't actually mine, it was my great grandmothers but it sought off stuck in the family since no one really bothered with it " The man - Gary, as he introduced himself spoke after the soldier had seemingly ignored him.
He attributed it to his own lack of manners which had escaped him, which he quickly corrected as he now found himself staring at her. He was excited, happy even as he seemed to be making progress with her.
"...and..and you? " He said, a bit unsure if he should push further.
The soldier in question looked up at him half annoyed and half confused on what he was asking for. She didn't really owe him anything, she had made sure not to 'borrow' anything from anyone. The battlefield scraps were more than enough for her.
" Y-your name…what do I call you? He said, eager to hear her reply.
She instead stared in return for a good 12 seconds as she counted it, waiting for him to move which he did not. He was actually seriously asking her for her name, what was he? One of the daemons she had heard off that tried to get close to you?
She thought for a few more seconds before replying to him.
"You, " She said, uttering a single word.
" Me?" He replied with a confused gaze.
" No, you " She corrected, already beginning to lose interest.
" ah…So you're Gary trashbit too? " He asked, a bit surprised but nonetheless happy at the answer he had received.
The soldier in turn simply stared back at him with an odd look, she had always been referred to as you or hey or soldier. Never really heard her name for a good while yet here was someone, requesting said name from her, once more she thought whether it was some sort of trick but couldn't really see how that would work.
So she stopped and tried to recall her name. For a few good seconds, it seemed like she couldn't really remember it. But just as she was about to give more and go with the flow, a voice whispered like a soft breeze into her mind.
A faint memory surfaced with a voice calling out to her, Lucinda….Lucinda. She recalled as it became ever more clearer, she was sure…that was her name. Her name was Lucinda but she couldn't really remember much more than that, but it was enough for her.
" Lucinda…my name is Lucinda " She said to the man who already began to speak of how beautiful the assumed name was and how they relate to each other with just their names. At the correction, he smiled gleefully then suddenly turned deathly pale at the realisation of the situation.
Lucinda found the situation to be quite interesting, especially the facial expressions he constantly made. She took one last look at the trophy in her hands before letting out a series of soft laughter of which she had forgotten she knew how too.