[Post Editorial Note: Fine. You win. {Thank you}
To the reader, be aware that the following account of the encounter between Amberley Vail (Ordo Xenos), Caiaphas Cain (MIA), and Ferik Jurgen (Dead), has been ruled a heretical text. Despite every attempt of the Inquisition, the Administratum, and the Primarchs-Returned, to have them destroyed, isolated, or removed, it remains with the rest of the Cain Archive, which itself experiences the sa effect. (Claims that His Holiness, the God-Emperor of Mankind, also attempted to destroy this report and failed to do so remains, of course, heresy)
We cannot stop you from reading this, but we will punish you if we find out.
Osma Leonid, Inquisitor Grandmaster, Ordo Malleus]
[Pre Editorial Note: It is with considerable consternation that I write this.
No sooner had I completed this account than other words, not of my and or any beside, appeared amidst it. While these passages do potentially provide information of paramount importance, and shall be remitted to Holy Terra for confirmation and clarification, they non-the-less are dangerous and heretical. No amount of work on part of
or my team has been able remove them or destroy the docunt. Attempting to re-record the account leads to those sa annotations appearing as soon as I finish. Were it not for the direct communication that happens in this text from it's perpetrator, I would believe this to be the work of the Great Enemy {I resent that. Why would I fight Myself?}... Communication like that.
The contents of this communication are, should they be true, are of such staggering importance that I have made grave the call to ferry it back to Holy Terra myself, trusting none other. There, I will submit them, and myself to the Lord Commander.
This account is then to be submitted to the Ordo Malleus for destruction.
Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos.]
[Editorial Note: It is with a asure of trepidation that I add this short account, an addition to the Cain Archive. While it provides invaluable insight into not only matters regarding Cain's perspective after his death, and his thoughts concerning said event or lack thereof, it also posits a question to the commonly held belief that blanks, such as Jurgen was determined to be, lack souls insofar as we understand them. Of more import for the Imperium, and the galaxy as a whole, is that this provides another witness account of the eting with the being self-designated as 'Mikael' and his 'children.' My own account of the encounter (Report IOAV214125M42-00034) is more complete, of course, yet Cain's perspective is still valuable if for no other reason than he was the target of interest for the Warp-entity Mikael.
Yet there is no denying that the encounter with the Warp-entity Mikael, and the recounting thereof, borders on the heretical. Being of more reasonable persuasion than so of my peers, I recognize the threat such a direct eting poses and, were it not for the importance said event would have on the galaxy at large, and the Imperium specifically, I would seek the Emperor's rcy myself. The recounting of the tale is equally as dangerous and should be treated with a asure of caution congruent with the most heretical of texts.
To that effect, I have decided that, like my report, Cain's account of the incident will be placed under the strictest security, and accessible by only those of the highest authority. Separating it from the rest of the Cain Archive should, I hope, preserve the information for those who need it while quarantining my other extracts from the moirs of Caiaphas Cain.
As ever, his narrative remains as close to how I found it as possible, doing little more than inserting a few notes of explanatory material to elucidate wider events that we, at the ti, remained ignorant of.
Amberley Vail, Inquisitor, Ordo Xenos.]
********
It is a strange thought, to realize one is dead.
That I could have that thought at all is a sign that I had not, in fact died. Yet the reassuring presence of Jurgen as he served
a cup of Tanna reminded
of that fact.
I had buried Jurgen. In as high honors as was applicable for one of his career of service as a Gunner First-Class*. Indubitably if there is a soldier ready to stand before the Golden Throne with pride it is my malodorous aid.
[*A rank Cain made up specifically for Jurgen. A bit of humor as, due to being an aide of a Commissar, he is largely outside regular chain of command.]
Instead, I was once more suffering his pungent presence. Were it not for the fact that his ooze was so distinctive, I would have taken this to be warp-craft and dealt with it most judiciously.
Or fled in terror as a gibbering wreck.*
[*He did. Apparently, returning to a corporeal from the immaterium is a disorientating experience. Wherefore he returned from, exactly, he does not ntion. One can only expect that the material world is a asure less secure than being at the foot of the Golden Throne.]
"Thank you Jurgen," the abomination responsible for this turn of events said with a smile as he took his own cup.
My aide, ever phlegmatic even in the most absurd of situations, responds with a simple 'Of course, sir' as he retreats.
"Gunner First-class Jurgen," the sole male child ask as he does, wiping his lips after having finished seven plates in the ti it took the rest of us to be served . "I have heard tales of your skill with your lta. With your permission Father, I would like to witness it in action."
"Go right a head, Kay," the monster rubs it's spawn's hair with affection and a smile as he looked over at our side of the table laden with drinks and food. "If our guests are all right with it?"
"I am not sure that is wise," Amberley denies delicately. It is only long association with her that allows
to note the tension in her body*. "It is a dangerous weapon and children are liable to get hurt on accident."
[*I was prepared for combat, as one always should be.]
"Fear not Ma'am," the smaller daemon smiled, showing off a disconcerting amount of teeth. Sharp teeth*. "Though I may be young currently, I will grow up to be a Dragon of Heroes. Neither of you three are able to hurt , being heroes yourselves."
{*Lion teeth, weirdly. I'm not gonna knock on my kids choices, and it did occasionally get him preferential treatnt from dea, but its just one of those funny little quirks. Except for Priscilla, Artoria is the most dragon-like of my wives and for a our son to turn out more cat than dragon always gives
a good laugh. Especially since I know what his dragon form will look like and I'm not giving any spoilers. Not even to you Olivia. Yes, I know you're reading this. No, I won't stop you. Yes, I know you're reading this too Big E. No, I will not apologize. You know what you did.}
It was tis like this where my fraudulent reputation appeared to be more harmful than beneficial, leading as it does to trouble seeking
out. The only solace to be found in the creature's 'complint' was the inclusion of Amberley and Jurgen receiving the sa.
"I'm sure Jurgen will keep him safe," the daemon reassured.
As you can imagine, I was not concerned terribly with the warp-spawn and I believed Jurgen would be fine. It was my own skin that I was most concerned with. Knowing as I did my aide's abilities as a Blank and his propensity for saving my skin around psykers and daemons, I would have much rather kept him nearby.
Still, it would not do to antagonize the being of considerable power while we were hostages on this odd ship*.
{*Clubhouse Mark 7. With three extra pillow forts and a water slide.}
"Coon," Kay cheered, standing up and rushing over toward my redoubtable aid and beginning to tug on his arm. "I'll show you to the armory."
If he cared about the halitosis he no doubt experienced being so close to the man, the little thing did not show it.
Which was more than anyone except an Inquisitor could claim.
Jurgen, always reluctant to relinquish my care to another, scowled at
for direction.
"A quick demonstration would not go amiss," I pretended to muse as I gestured for him to follow the brat. Knowing where they kept their weapons would not be the worst thing. "When you are finished, why don't you bring it back to show the... others." I trailed off slightly at the intense look the daemons shaped like little girls were giving .
All four of them, identical down to the last detail, had their too blue eyes locked onto my head as if they were Jurgen with the newest porno slate.
Did they know that I had agreed so that Jurgen would return as soon as possible with the heavy weapon? I did not see how but I knew never to underestimate the base cunning of the Great Enemy.
Being an experienced disassembler as I am, I did not let my unease show as Jurgen, surly but compliant, was led out of the room.
"Now," the leader of our abductors, and the one claiming the dubious credit of my return to life, smiled in amusent as he poured himself a cup of tanna. "I believe introductions are in order for this little tea party to begin, at least on our side. We are already familiar with your exploits, to a degree."
And was that not a chilling statent.
"How so?" Amberley asked, as if making conversation.
"Your books," the young man answered simply. He sat with perfect posture, back straight and pitch perfect high gothic. Blond of hair, like all the 'children,' his pearlescent purple eyes flitted between
and Amberley with such regularity, I swear I could count ti by their movent. "Father would read them to us to help put us to sleep. Among others. My na is Midnight. Midnight Goodwitch. A pleasure to et you in person, as the covers did not convey a proper impression."
For so reason he looked at my laspistol as he said the latter, yet I could not help the kernel of unease in my gut.
"Books?" I asked, taking a sip of tanna. The familiar pungent drink reassuring . I feared they were not talking of the usual exaggerated tales of my daring do.
"The Cain Archive," Midnight shook his head sharply once. "Amberley's work editing, compiling, and annotating your recorded moirs."
I will admit to not being too surprised by Amberley's decision to release a, no doubt heavily edited, version of my writings after my death. I imagine most of the truth was filtered out to make
appear suitably heroic for any enterprising student at the Schola Progenium to read about Caiphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium. No doubt it had so grandiose title like 'Emperor's finest servant' or sothing. No, wait, that wouldn't fit my reputation for humility. Maybe sothing simple like Servant of the Emperor: A Commissar's Life. That sounded about right.
Now if only she didn't do such a good job as to attract the attention of Great Enemy with my long list of exaggerated achievents*.
[*To believe I, who rely compiled the man's own notes, am more at fault than the man who perford the feats themselves is Cain at his finest. Or worst.]
"I read them the official version," Mikael smiled, ruffling his 'son's' hair who bore it without blinking. It was only because I knew her for so long that I noticed Amberley relax slightly at his words. "Then I read the others, to show them how propaganda can twist truth into fiction. They liked those better." Amberley tensed again.* "I also cheated and added a few others, not part of the notes themselves but they were interested in Amberley and Jurgen so a few of their unwritten stories just for fun."
[*In preparation for combat*. The Cain Archive is under Inquisitor jurisdiction and in a secure archive. An archive the Heretic admitted to having access to for years.]
{*Riiiiiiighttttttt.}
""""I wanted to see you in person."""" The four little girls said as one, their voice at once uniform and wholly distinct. """"To see if what you wrote is true.""""
I had not seen them blink once the entire ti I was there.
"Now girls," Mikael chided gently. "What have I told you about introductions?"
""""I should use nas when eting those unused to dealing with gestalt consciousnesses.""""
"And what should you be doing?"
""""Using nas instead of I.""""
Now, I can freely admit to being a craven of highest degree. Yet, my illustrious, and overinflated career, has forced
to witness a truly unfortunate amount of horrors the galaxy has to offer. From facing down an Ork Warboss in single combat to entrapped and surrounded by countless 'nids, I have feared for my miserable hide more tis than I can count.
Yet very things were as eerie as those four little girls as they spoke, acted, and seed to move as one unified entity. They were just too human and too abnormal at the sa ti and it send shivers down my spine. It was not terror, as the sothing like the idea of seeing a Necron once more inspired, but rather a haunting wrongness, as if said Necron invited
to a tavern in perfect HIgh Gothic.*
{*"Here you go," Valeria smiled as she handed the corpses over to the Necron. "Authentic Thunder Warriors. First batch even."
"Magnificent," Trazyn looked at the newest addition to his collection. "You even preserved their armor. And are those pre-Imperium weapons?"
"Yep," the Paradox of Dragon nodded happily. "They weren't using it and I figured you'd like them. I knew a guy like you when I was younger. Really into trains."
"Trains?" Trazyn the Infinite asked, curious about the unfamiliar term.
"I'll get you one," the Dradox of Paragon shrugged. "Later though. You did promise to let
examine you."
"I always honor my word," the Archaeovist of the Solemnace Galleries agreed. "More so to help out a fellow scholar. Do you mind if this is a surrogate body?"
"That's even better," answered Xodarap fo Nogard. "You Necrons have so great stuff, and I won't say no to another Paradox."}
"I am sorry for my sisters," Midnight apologized. "I hope you do not judge them to harshly. They are shy, eting their heroes, and feel more comfortable conjoined than not."
"Conjoined? Gestalt Consciousness? As in a Hive Mind?" Amberely asked, at once fascinated and horrified, yet her face remained politely curious. My hand, on the contrary, was already snaking towards my laspistol. I'd dealt with enough genestealers to know that they were deceptively quick and strong. They'd clear this table in a heartbeat to reach .
"Not like your Tyranids,*" Mikael shook his head, his smile ever present though it appeared more amused than ever. "Think closer to your high level Tech Priests with connected chadendrites."
{Deep in darkness of space, beyond the edge of the galaxy, a tiny, minuscule, chubby cat rolled onto its back (taphorically) in satisfaction as it let out its small cat burp.
Of what would have eventually been designated Hive Fleet Cetus, not even a drop of ichor remained.
Lazily flapping her tiny wings in the space equivalent of a backstroke, dea contemplated her next move.
She could still eat, but she didn't want to run out of food too soon.
"Mrow."
Sound couldn't survive a vacuum yet not even physics could tell a cat what to do as the tubby creature ca to a decision.
Her pet had made a comnt about her weight recently so if she didn't want to lose her favorite treats, she'd have to watch what she ate.
A few more Hive Fleets and she'd call it a day. She'd grab a few of the smaller bioships for her minions to snack on and one or two Norn-Queens so her pet could get them on her Island whenever she had a craving.
"Mrow."
The galaxy wouldn't know it, but it owed its continued existence one tubby cat.}
That did not reassure . Cog Boys, even the supposedly wiser magi and archmagi, were always a bit dodgy and more than once I had found myself in the thick of it due to their unique brand of worship of the Emperor.
"I am sorry if we were being rude," one of them, the one on my far left, eventually said.
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
"I am Irma Frost," the first started after each had apologized in turn. "The Self-Who-Reflects."
"I am Sophie Frost," the one to the first's left continued. "The Self-Who-Rejects."
"I am Phoebe Frost," the third picked up. "The Self-Who-Develops."
"And I am Celeste Frost," the fourth finished. "The Self-Who-Deceives. We are four of the five who will be the Dragon of Self."
"Four out of five?" Amberley asked. "There are more of you... siblings?"
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"Our fifth, Es Frost, the Self-Who-Unifies, has not been born yet," answered Phoebe.
"She will know what we know. Rember what we rember." Sophie spoke within a breath of her sister finishing.
"Please treat us as if we are all five here," Irma finished for her sisters. "It is hard to explain to soone with only one mind but we will be, are and have been one since the first of us were born."
For all that these 'dragons' had the appearance of human children, they were very poor in their acting. I have not spent that much ti around anyone below the age to enlist, yet even I could detect the unnaturalness in their movent. They spoke too well. Appeared too self-assured.
The most successful 'child' had been the one calling itself Kai, and even then, he'd casually dragged a fully grown man away. Jurgen was not light.
"And is this everyone in your family," Amberley asked with a smile that had chard nobles, generals, and xenos. Right before she shot them.
"Oh no," Mikael shook his head. "My oldest stayed ho with his new bride. We let them have the Island for a small honeymoon when we ca. This realm doesn't agree with him, unlike his twin so we figured we'd take the chance for a little field trip. The others are around, but they have their own interests and hobbies. Besides, we didn't want to overwhelm you."
"How thoughtful," I said disingenuously, picking up on Amberley's goal. "What sort of interests?"
"The Warp*, mostly. Figured they could have a bit of fun."
{*"Oi Boss!" One Kork asks another.
"Wot!?" Da Boss, Daemon-Killa asks. And smashed a group of spikey boyz with 'iz choppa.
"Sumfing rong Boss." Da Kork responds as his weapon, a snazzy shoota wif plenty spikey bitz, getz a spikey boy in da noggin.
Needs more dakka.
"Wot ya zoggin git?!" Daemon-Killa bellows, smashing da Shpaysh muhreen on da noggin. "Dis a proppa skrap!"
"Waaaaaaghhhhh!" Da Warboos screams.
"""""WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH""""" Da Boyz scream.
""WAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH""" Da Kork and Da Boss scream too.
"Dey'ze sumfing'z warpy 'bout da Warboss, Boss." Da Kork sez, stompin on a puny git and takin a stabba from da git. It wuz proppa orky, wif spike bits an all. Da Kork threw da stabba, it got plenty wazza dan otha stabba'z cause it waz red, an killed too deamon gitz.
"ATTENCHUN YA GROTZ! I'Z GOTTA GUD PLAN!" Daemon-Killa ordered 'iz Boyz. "GRAB DA SPIKEY STABBAZ AN FROW EM!"
"""Yes Boss!"""
The order was quickly spread but there was a bit of a problem of numbers. There were, by now, hundreds of millions of barbed spears covering the planet, so da Korks solved da problem of not enuf spikey stabbaz with dere noggins.
Da tuffest noggins got the spikey stabbaz.
"See," Daemon-Killa told Da Kork. "I'z da Boss. I'z do da finking."
"But Boss, dunt da Warboss look like a oomie? Like a digganobz?" Da Kork asked.
His response was a proppa thumpin on da noggin.
"Ya stoopid nob! Looksee at da Warboss! Dey're proppa- Wut? 'Ere dey go?"
"Dere Boss!" Da Kork pointed.
An' got anovva twack on da noggin.
"I'z know dat Gitface!" Deamon-Killa scread as he also pointed at the back of Kharn where the humanoid was impaling his claws into the back of the World Eater. "Looksee! Da Warboss iz proppa Orky. Ee'z big!" He was. "Ee'z green!" There were still splotches of purple he continued to shift colors to his advantage, but the Orks couldn't tell and he was mostly green at the mont, so we'll give this one to them. "Ee'z got plenty teef!" Fangs, but sure they can have this one as well. "Ee'z stuck in an' givin da gits a 'ight thrashin!" Sure, why not. "Ee'z fightin'. Ee'z killin'. Ee'z winnin'. Den Ee'z an Ork!" Impeccable logic.
"But Boss, Ee'z got dem wings an-" Da Kork tried ta sez but da Boss ain't havin nun of it an' kicked him into da rukk.
"Datz yer problem, ya git! Too much lernin' an' not enuff fightin'!" Deamon-Killa shouted. "Get stukk in or I'z gonna krump ya good!"
"Yes Boss!"
"WAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!" Deamon-Killa scread as he jumped in.
"'""""""WAAAAAAAAAGGGGGG!"""""""" Da Boyz scread.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!" Da Warboss, Saig Dagon O'WAAAGH scread as he smashed Skarbrand on the head with the body of a bloodthirster.
"At least he's having fun," Scathach sighed in fond exasperation as she twisted herself out of the way of Khorne's blade as Gork kunningly' slugged the Blood God in the face with a brutal blow while he was distracted.
Mork brutally stabbed the Lord of Skulls in the back in a kunnin move.
Scathach gave as good as she got, her spears raining down on all three. She'd admit she was having just as much fun as their second eldest, but she did have one complaint.
These damn ork gods barely fought back when she attacked!}
"Well, so of them are having fun. Others are doing a bit of good while we're here while advancing their hobbies*."
{*They hated it and loved it.
That thirst, the want that defined its existence, that yearning for more, more, more, MORE!!!
...was quiet.
Satiated.
Satisfied.
The Prince of Pleasure was experiencing hedonism so extre that any ti it would want more, it gained it.
Not pleasure.
Not pain.
Not passion.
It was... everything. Every excess and decadence and perfection possible.
And it wasn't even being touched!
For the first ti ever, every part and being of the Warp touched by the Lord of Excess felt absolute contentnt. They were still.
Because of two beings.
The first, a glittering diamond in the dark, shaped like a dragon. It took all light around it, warped it, and magnified it. As if its entire existence was simply to make others greater.
And the light it was currently reflecting?
A phantom of a great White Dragon, wrapped around another diamond, radiated such a Mad Love that it quenched the unquenchable thirst of Slaanesh.
Apparently not even the Dark God of hedonism could be as decadent as the combined semblances of Emma and Em, when backed up by their Lord and Husband.)
"And there's nothing wrong with combining the two while carrying out their regular responsibilities*."
{*She took a hesitant step forward, her feet pressed on burning petals.
In this eternal garden of rot and decay, where nothing every changed and she remained imprisoned for ti immorial, fire blood.
The piercing cry of bird echoed through the Warp as a being of fla and life latched talons deep into the corpulent form of the Grandfather.
Isha watched as the Garden of Nurgle burned and knew hope.
"What... Is happening?" Her voice, so long a burbling noise of coughs and sighs, sounded unfamiliar to her.
"Draconis Ex Machina." Isha looked down to see two beings standing amidst the flas.
She didn't recognize the species, though they were not too dissimilar to her children.
One, female, whose fur and eye were afla with the sa red power that now burned the warp.
The other, also female, was kneeling amidst the plants and poisons, pulling them from the warp and putting them into jars and beakers.
"At least, that's how he'd call it," the female on fire continued sardonically. "Personally, I think he was just bored."
"I think its to keep the kids distracted," the other rose to her feet, wiping her hands and pushing a strand of blonde fur behind her ear. Her smile was wide and content. "Don't want them interrupting Jiraya's honeymoon."
"Or your opportunity to beco a grandmother first," the female of fla rejoined and the other's smile deepened.
The bird cry echoed again, and Isha looked up to see Plague God burning with its Garden.
A most satisfying sight.}
"And so of them are just a bit too curious* for their own good."
{*"Check," Olivia sighed.
This wasn't fun anymore.
Sure, the realm of change had been a nice diversion, but it had been a mistake to et the Father of Lies so soon. She should have stuck to exploring first, now she bored.
The Weaver of Destinies placed a piece of soul on the board in place of his pawn in the way of her piece and Olivia sighed.
"Don't say it," she said to Mommy dea who had paused in her own discussion with the Architect of Fate on this World's magic.
"We told you so," the Witch of Betrayal ignored her and said those cursed words anyway.
Olivia groaned.
Then groaned harder as Lord of Change placed a lemon drop on the chess board.
It was the two thousand, three hundred and twenty-seventh ti it had used a non-piece to play.
There would be seven thousand, six hundred, and seventy two more attempts before the ga was done.
"I hate it when you guys do this," Olivia grumbled as she put a miniature dea on the board. Again. It ate the candy. Again.
"We wouldn't have to if you listened to us more," dea the Witch answered.
The Great Deceiver tried to whisper lies in their ears, but they both ignored it.
Really, trying to claim that Mikael didn't love them? What a moron.
The problem Olivia faced, and the reason for her despair, was that she was anathema to the Lord of Sorcery. It was not a being of Knowledge, but rather a being from which Knowledge could be gained. To it, secrets, plots, information, lies, truth, evolution, sorcery and everything else was simply a manifestation of change.
Sorcery to change the world.
Lies to change the mind.
Plots to change the status-quo.
Mutation to change the body.
By that sa logic, the Changer of Ways could not be constant. It was simultaneously the smartest of the Chaos Gods and the dumbest. It the most successful and the greatest failure. It would create the most elaborate plan, one that spans millennia and involved quadrillion people and ten tis that in minuscule steps and then throw a banana peel at its own feet right at the end.
Every secret, every nugget of truth or lies, was just fodder for future change for change's sake.
So, what happens when a Dragon of Knowledge cos to learn everything the Master of Manipulation knows?
You get an idiot god, because she drained the Knowledge, because it knows nothing intrinsically, because it's always trying to change itself, it is caught in a perpetual loop where the more Knowledge she seeks, the less it has.
If she'd just stuck to the outer edges of its domain in the Warp, far from anything considered an actual part of Lord of Entropy, she'd have everything she wanted as she absorbed the 'results' of its change. Now, because of the Warp and its unique properties regarding ti, the Raven God was, would be, and always had been nothing more than a moron she couldn't get anything out of.
The worst part?
Her father and Mommy dea had warned her to stay out of the Realm of the Sorcerer, yet she'd thought she knew better.
Again.
The Raven God drooled over its pieces.
Again.}
"But, all in all, I think most of them are having fun. And you might even appreciate our little visit."
I sincerely doubted that. There has rarely, if ever, been a ti in my life where more xenos, heretics, or daemons was better than fewer. Still, if the rest of this thing's 'family' was away then they were not my problem and, if I had my way, never would be.
"Which brings us to the main point of this little tea party," Mikael said with a smile I did not like. "Kids?"
"Of course Father," Midnight nodded, pulling a leaf of thin material and setting it on the table beside his plate. While one hand held it down, the other withdrew a wooden writing utensil of so sort, all without looking at it. His purple eyes continuing to shift from
to Amberley every second on the second. "Please describe, in as close to detail, your first 'adventure.' After you beca Commissar, that is. Father would not tell us of your ti in the Underhive or in the Schola, so we shall begin with the advent of your heroic career on Desolatia IV."
As you can imagine, I was not particularly excited to speak of my 'heroic' actions against my first tyranid horde, seeing as my actions boiled down to fleeing to the spaceport to save my hide and, entirely coincidentally, leading the artillery platforms to destroying a Hive Tyrant that was leading a force to flank us. Of all my attempts to preserve my life for as long as possible, and there were many, that was the one that would most likely see
tried* for cowardice and subsequently shot.
[*Likely not even tried. Had it co to light a commissar fled the field, they would have shot on the spot. And the galaxy would be a much worse place without one of the Emperor's finest agents.]
"I have no doubt Amberley's work on my writings would give you anything you want," I demurred easily.
"They are a good start," the boy nodded once more. "But the Process is important. And my sisters will find anything you forgot in the last few centuries."
Irma also had a page of the material in front of her and I tried to ignore how all four of the creepy little girls were staring straight at my head.
That didn't stop
from trying a different tactic.
"I can not, in good consciousness, speak of military secrets," I feigned regret. "Much of what I have done is classified and, not knowing what you do already, am not at liberty to divulge secrets of the Imperium. Not the least because doing so would put you all under the scrutiny of the Inquisition."
While I doubted these things cared for classified information, the threat should at least put a stop to this train of thought. There was fewer things scarier than inquisitorial interest. It was just my bad luck to have been placed face to face with those things in my career.
Indeed, the 'boy' appeared stumped for a second as his gaze, for the first ti flickered away from
and Amberley to look at his 'Father.' Who looked entirely too amused for my liking.
"Is... What should I do, Father?" Midnight asked, for once sounding the age he portrayed himself to be. "My Elent is conflicted. This, too, is a proper Process."
With a gentleness, feigned no doubt, that hadn't been present before, Mikael looked down at his 'son.'
"We are our Elents. But never forget, they co from Us, not the other way around. The Process is this: We were first. The Elent is Second. You are not a slave to every Process in existence. You are a Dragon of Processes. You decide which to follow."
"Thank you Father," Midnight nodded again. "Then I shall ignore the Processes of Clearance and Classification and continue the Process of Negotiation."
The kid, as creepy as ever, turned to look at
and his eyes resud their tronomic flickering between
and Amberley.
"To clarify our positions, not only are my Family and I already beyond the scope of your Imperium, thus not beholden to its Inquisition, but we are also aware of more secrets than either of you two combined. Furthermore, without making this a treat, I will point out that your continued existence, Ciaphas Cain and that of your aid Jurgen, is at the discretion of my Father, without whom you would both continue to languish in the Warp until such ti as your Pseudo-deity manages to clear a region of Chaos. Now, rejection will not see you punished or slain, and you are all free, as are all beings, to leave without pain or repercussions. Yet, I ask this, do you truly wish to negotiate against us for a tale you have already told while we are, literally, responsible for your continued existence?"
"He'll speak," Amberley answered before I could put my thoughts in order. In fact, she answered so quickly, I almost believed it was out of concern for my continued existence. Then I rembered Jurgen and realized that while I might be valuable, a Blank such as him was much more useful than a Hero of the Imperium*. She was also aware of what, exactly, she had put in these moirs of mine and thus knew what had already been leaked.
[*It continues to elude Cain that both a Blank and a Hero are useful, to say nothing of the individual talents of the people themselves.]
If she judged that my retelling of events, as unflattering as it might be, was worth the continued existence of Jurgen and, more importantly to
at least, myself, then who was I to disobey the fair Inquisitor.
[Here Cain, as is customary of him, skips a considerable portion of the story that he feels is not relevant. Or, more likely, does not feel the need to rehash what he has already written and I have compiled in the Cain Archive. For further details, see the accounts of Desolatia IV and Keffia.
Coincidentally, I am sure, by skipping over these parts Cain also omits nurous occasions where one of the four Frost girls would correct him on troupe numbers, locations, tis, or even his own actions. Their sources are in question, Cain's unreliability is not and often he gave the matter so thought before agreeing with them and anding his statents.]
By the ti I was finished speaking retelling my ti retelling my escapades against a genestealer cult in Skandaburg, Jurgen had returned with the other child shaped thing and the creatures appeared satisfied. What had started as one sheet of material had grown to hundred as they wrote what I said.
"Thank you for this," Midnight, my main interrogator, continued to flick his eyes from
to Amberley to Jurgen every second as he bundled up the paper. "Unfortunately, we do not have the ti to cover your centuries of service, you have none-the-less provided more than enough. Please, enjoy your trip and we wish you all the best."
"Our trip?" I asked, my palms starting to itch.
"To earth?" Midnight said, before correcting himself. "I an Terra. No doubt you will wish to explain your continued existence to your governntal structure."
"So he will not disappear as soon as we leave," Amberley asked.
"Nah," the other boy, Kay, said casually. "You all got, like, another century of heroics left with your rejuvenation treatnts."
Heartening to hear, though it appeared my hard earned retirent would be postponed. Yet again. Still a question nagged at .
"We should not need to return to Holy Terra to do so, rely inform the local Administratum office of sufficient rank."
"Yeah, but you'll be called in anyway," Mikael said with a smirk. "And if you leave now, you'll arrive right in ti for the eting to end."
"eting?" An unnad dread welled up in .
"Nothing important," the creature shaped like a man said with deceptive casualness. "One of my daughters just has... opinions on family*. And they'll have so questions for you."
{*"Pain. That's all I knew. Pain and rage. Joy. Love. Hope. Others could feel them. Not . Never . Never Angaron."
"There, there," Isne patted the forr Daemon Prince on his head as he cried. That she had to use Mommy Priscilla's ability to grow in size to reach said head was immaterial, even though he was sitting down.
"We all knew pain," Rogal Dorn rumbled from his own seat. "Yet our duty was more important." Despite being so strict with his words, it was clear the emotion his erstwhile brother was showing was making him uncomfortable. As if he didn't know how to respond.
But that was alright. They'd learn.
They were family after all.
"Yet in carrying out our duty we were vilified!" Konrad Curze hissed and Isne used Mommy Tsunade's shadow clone skill to appear beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder and he cald down.
"Peace," Isne smiled gently at the Primarch. "We are in no rush. Everyone shall all have their turn to voice their issues."
"Yet He is silent!" Horus pointed at the largest seat. His action, and his very existence, got glares from half his brothers. They couldn't speak, however, as Isne used Booker's magic to steal the sound and Nia's to keep everyone at peace.
Just because they weren't born yet didn't an they weren't Family.
"He's in ti-out," Isne said simply as she continued to bathe the body on the Golden Throne in the Phoenix Fla. Even for her, it took so effort to restore him without compromising the intricate web of power, blessings, afterlife, astronomicon, and other innurable psykik tasks he did every mont. "Everyone is partly at fault for what happened, yet a father's responsibility will always be greater than that of their children. He will have his chance to explain once you have all had yours."
"...Are you a god?" Logar asked, hesitant.
"No," Isne answered. "Though a few of my Family are, I am just a woman who wants to see a family happy."
"Happiness does not save lives," Roboute Guillaman rumbled, finger's twitching. "Every mont I am away, that He is occupied, is another battle lost. Another planet dead."
"We have returned," Vulkan nodded his head in thanks even as he gripped his hamr. "Yet there is work to do."
"I am taking care of it. All of it." A combination of Mommy Robin's Hana-hana powers, Olivia's Knowledge, Mommy lina's Hearth-fire, Mommy Ranni's Order, and Mommy Yoruichi's speed made even the unwieldy beast that was the Imperium of Man manageable. "Your sole job is to talk things out. Even if it takes years, we will not leave until we can understand each other. You do not have to agree, or even work together, but you will not leave until you are a family again."
Isne could feel they weren't too happy with her ultimatum. There were a lot of feelings here. mories. Hate. Rage. Pain. Regret. So asure of love drowned in fear and remorse. Mommy Raven's Empathy was strong, so she could even feel the confusion of the Custodes as they surrounded the circle of chairs in the throne room, unsure what to do in the face of the Primarchs Returned and the Emperor Reborn.
None of that mattered though.
This universe had suffered enough because of this family feud and she'd not have anymore of it.
"Now, Fulgrim, you said you regretted your corruption. Why so? And what would you have done differently?"}
I never got further answers for my question at that point, unaware as I was that it was all the warning I would receive before events would spiral out of control, once more threatening my life and with ramifications for the entire galaxy.
All I knew was that one mont we were on the odd ship and the next we were in the much more familiar interior of Amberley's room upon her vessel.
[Cain's further recollections are of no import for the mont and I shall end this small anecdote here.]
{I won't*}
{*"You know, it's always nice to spend a day with soone who gets my sense of humor," I muse contemplatively. "Outside the family, I an."
"I do know," Cegorach nodded, holding out a plate for . "Hurus?"
"Thank you," I nodded, nibbling on the bone. It wasn't bad, and the pain added a flavor profile that I didn't usually enjoy, but wasn't bad every once in a while. Normally, I didn't really partake in humanoids, but when in Ro.
That, and they were Drukhari, so nobody cared.
I an, what else were we going to do with them now that the Hot Topic Whore was getting pumped of Eldar souls?
Let them live?
"Exactly," the Laughing God agreed with a dignified nod at the paragraph above. "I always appreciate you fanfiction types. There's so delicious irony there. Much better than 'canon.'"
"I thought you would prefer it," I asked conversationally. "40K is, essentially, a giant parody of itself."
"The joke is lost on all but
and my Harlequins, unfortunately," the Great Fool lanted as he nibbled on a Fabius Bile. "They're in too deep, you understand. Can't see the wraithbone forest for the skeleton trees. If only they could understand the true evil at the core of our World. Gas Workshop prices. They are unforg- Oh, excuse , our guests are requesting another look before the end."
(Asdrubael Vact tore through Cammorragh.
The screams and wails and shouts of the dead and the dying, once music to his ears and balm to the soul as it kept him from the reach of She Who Thirsts, now took on an unfamiliar and unwelcoming tenor.
It was not that he was against the lessers of his kind experiencing the exquisite touch of pain and death, but doing so without his permission, and to the degree where his realm was at risk was unacceptable.
He would visit such exquisite pain upon whoever was behind this affrontery. They thought him trapped. They were wrong. With every way off the Dark City seeming to have failed, he still had contingency upon contingency built into this realm.
More than enough to give even the greatest beings a wound not easily ignored.
As the Overlord of Cammorragh scrabbled for power in the light of the dark suns, as countless other Drukhari did as well, they were ignorant of the four red eyes that lurked in the shadows they had so carefully cultivated.
Pride loved Her Monster.
He brought her to the funnest places.)
"Appreciate it," I said as the interlude ended.
"It is no problem," Cegorach demurred. "Though in return do you mind telling
of the Deep Warp? Professionally curiosity."
"Certainly," I agreed, pouring it another cup of tea. "Just a mont. Gotta spare their sanity."
I cut off the }
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