I woke up soti later, feeling my throat dry and my mind having been trampled by a dozen elephants.
Not that pleasant, in hindsight.
Also, I was almost certain that C'tan buried sowhere in this crypt was fucking with .
"Faithful, co here." I spoke in my mind.
My old friend was gone, and so were his robes and various tools he usually carried. And most limbs.
A scarecrow with three limbs crawled hesitantly in front of . "Yes, Lord Pef." he answered in my mind too. He lacked a vox box anyway.
"What do you rember, in the past hours?" I asked curious.
"... Error. Blocked and quarantined files. Resuming new persona, as per Clavis directive Sigma991. I recall temporal fields...graviton particles in over kill quantities. Ships exploding. Xenos ships...Eldar. Warp phenona possible. Unit compromised." he decanted in a string of flat declarations.
I tapped his cog-shaped Rosarius and it simply turned to dust and scattered in a falling mist. Not so invulnerable, after all.
"What about the craft you were in?" I asked a bit worried.
"Fury Interceptor, critical structural damage. Machine Spirit corrupted, purging algorithm initiated. Plasma reactor overloaded. Ion Shield overloaded. Failure imminent." he explained in a story telling mode, although the state of his body told enough.
Well then. Hopefully they won't be able to recover much from the starfighter.
Going by what I rembered, there were so kind of dinsional fields around that nice spire, so it was most likely not destroyed. No matter, I will just have to try again and again.
A thousand bombs and torpedoes if I had to, cleansing the mad Eldar and even better fueling Ynnead's birth with their deaths.
As a God of Death, that Eldar godling drew power from death itself, and I possibly contributed quite a bit with my own small efforts.
I did have a kill count in the billions, as a low estimate.
But I needed to get it much higher. Plenty of enemies for humanity, and each of their deaths, yet another gift to a big power.
Hopefully, so of that will also reflect back on , and increase my standing among the galactic powers. The chanicus was great, and they surely liked a little by now, but it wasn't enough.
I did have soone who might help. Just a mind call away.
"It's , the nice stranger everyone talks about." I sent towards Trazyn.
"Oh? I am quite certain the Bone Kingdom still stands, favor trader. What is it now, yet another foolish quest? That Dawn sword is no use to . And the Enslaver bone needs too much work!" the Necron Lord complained like a big child.
"Let tell you a story, my friend. Not long ago, a chanicus priest stumbled upon Commorragh, the famous dark city. And he called in for help, detonating an Exterminatus-grade weapon just inside the central cavern of the city. But, sohow the explosion was contained and deflected away, damaging a thousand Eldar ships and burning a few unprotected sectors. Interested?" I asked in a wry tone.
Trazyn seed confused for a few seconds. "Dark Eldar...they do have interesting artifacts indeed. Almost like..."
"Exactly like , they abandoned their Battle Barges, and boarded the largest Space Hulk in history.
If you follow the tragedy in ti, there is a Soul Drinker Astartes who kills that demon with the spear." I said in a story mode, but not divulging much.
"Hmmm. I don't see the tragedy. Astartes fall to Chaos all the ti." Trazyn argued, and rather logically. I made the sa point a few tis.
"If you do not watch the play, I might spoil it. But anyway, these Astartes didn't fall to Chaos. Hmmm, quite similar to the Badab War. Wait...that didn't happen yet, right? Now I really spoiled it. This C'tan shard might start objecting, again..." I complained in a deprecating tone and ended the call.
I was getting tired, too much ntal effort, too soon.
"Faithful, you're going to Antax now. There is a nice Fabricator there who will take care of you. But try to keep everything between us." I sent to my crippled friend and hugged him goodbye.
"Yes, Lord Pef. Even in death, I serve the Omnissiah." the Magos answered in my mind and tried to wave goodbye, rather slowly and uncoordinated.
And so, I sent him away. My Rose would have simply put a bolter to his cogitator, but there is enough tragedy in the galaxy.
Tired, I triggered the teleport beacon and returned to my Canticle, only to find myself surrounded by a dozen worried Astartes, right in the teleport room.
Perhaps I have been gone for too long.
"Bed and fluids." I mumbled, while stumbling towards my rooms.
The flesh was slightly stronger now, but my mind was weak. I should work on that...
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