ReaperofValhalla: I would like to apologize for my long absence. I been taking care of my grandfather the last half of year as his alzheimer's reaches its final stages. He believed the day was the 1st of July and the last time he saw me was at the Christmas party we held months before and would greet me as such about 8 times before noon, then we hangout having repeat conversations throughout the day as he slowly forgets the most basic stuff like the name of his daughters, the fact his son exist, or that his grandson was living with him for the foreseeable future and that was just about it for the day, Everyday.
Every. Fucking. Day.
Seeing someone I hold dear in such a state, you, my fateful viewers, can understand that I wasn't in the best of conditions to continue writing my stories such as MOW or NLO as I had gotten over 200 emails stating So n So is a follower of MOW and thrice that for this story. Then see that actually they unfollowed a presumably dead story.
Anyway back on point. My grandfather past away a month before hand at the time (11/15/18) I'm writing this and though I grief for his passing I will continue to write in honor of him as he is the one who taught me how to write and got me into the hobby.
On to the Story.
Augusta: Fucking finally, the little bitch is done crying over his grandpa.
RoV: *menacing smirk*
Augusta: Why are you looking at me like that?
RoV: You'll get yours, trust me.
To say Sergeant Augusta was pissed would be an understatement. The half dead Sororitas roughly Impaled on his astartes grade member would agree if her soul wasn't being offered to Slaanesh in what the Sevensons call a "quickie." Her violator gathers valuable gene seed from their fallen and vents his frustrations on her broken and shattered body. His internal organs were burned and partly melted from the holy light the Athinma unleashed.
The plan was simple enough, locate Franklin, grab him, dispose of the wretched Sororitas then leave. Maybe take some slaves, ammunition, and tanks as a bonus…
The sevenson angrily thought to himself. The birth of a Living Saint had changed things dramatically. The Anthima had nearly destroyed all their souls through his ascended bolter bitch, crippling them in the process and lost sight of Augusta's little brother in the process.
There was nothing but smoldering sets of power armor left where Beta squad located Franklin. Which was a surprise as his HUD still gave out readings stating they were alive on his unit display. By it's account out of the hundred Night Lords that assaulted the Keep another thirty were killed by Sororitas before they could recover and the rest were on the brink of death by the psychic attack, unable to do anything but give the weakest offerings to slaanesh he had ever seen. He suspected Tzeentch might have a hand in this as the odds of this Op going fubar was high enough but the chances of a Greater Daemon of the Corpse Emperor being born while rescuing Franklin was absolutely impossible without multiple divine interventions.
All part of the "Grand Plan" my ass...
A purple haze fills his vision as he seals the last of the invaluable organs in their preservation containers, a moan escapes his lips as his darken eyes roll back in elasticity. A muffed and gagged but indisputable scream of arousal sounds off below him as he climaxes inside his captive. He feels his strength returning to him just as he feels Slaanesh's approving gaze upon him for the offering had submitted herself to the prince of excess.
After a moment the offering goes limp.
Augusta unceremoniously dumped his armored cock sleeve to the floor, Her purpose fulfilled. The Sergeant walks forward as he turns on the vox only to collapse two steps forward, his strength completely sapped from his body. Unable to move his body an inch Augusta looks dumbfounded under his helmet at the well decorated ceiling. That was until he feels a armored hand caress the exposed tip of his massive manhood, bringing a jolt of energy that he didn't have prior. Confusion and mild panic sets into the Sevensons mind as he tries to get his limbs to work. His augmented mind races with countless number of warp entities that would have their way with him before shredding him to pieces in his weakened state. A firm tug on his member brings enough of a jolt to bring himself to a sitting position and does so in a nanosecond, ready to bring this warp spawn under his heel.
Only to be faced with a familiar dark skinned, white haired, glowing purple eyed Sororitas squatting suggestively above his lap, an act that should have been impossible as he shattered the entirety of her lower body into dust as he vented his rage into his offering. Though the handle of the foot long slaaneshi themed toy he found by Beta Squad was sticking out her mouth as a improvised gag, she still smiled sultry through it as she impales herself back onto him. Through this degradative action Augusta stood up, the control of his body momentarily gained its own sentience.
And He never felt more alive.
He could smell not only her arousal through the aging filters in his helmet but the artificial pheromones and hormones of his fellow Night Lords and their "offerings" respectfully even hundreds of feet away. The weight of his offering felt lighter than air when previously a two ton set of power armor would have noticeably slowed him down. Even through several inches of ceramic plating he could feel his bolter bitch clung to him for dear life, every little scape on the ceramic plates brings a small, enjoyable tingly sensation to his skin. He could hear her rapidly beating heart through her power armor and feel its vibrations through his genitals. Mindlessly he grabs her sides and ruthlessly rutts her desperately in his lust fuel mind before releasing his warp tainted essence within her once more.
At the height of his climax, he was hit with a crushing clarity. He had to carry this woman on his crotch, not out of a sense of attachment or a form of enthrallment but as a form of power. The psychic attack had crippled him in such a degree that he could not move without the powers of the warp, even with the assistance of his armor. The fallen Sororitas was his only conduit to his patron and was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. He looks down at the former imperial and lets a ghost of a smile crossed his ash colored lips at her mindless, erotic expression as she slowly rocks herself on his member. He hits the vox activation rune on his helmet.
"Squad Leaders. Report." Augusta demands outwardly calm. Though internally dreading the response, his first command of a raid would dictate his future in the Sevenson Warband. The number of dead brothers at the end of this mission will decide his fate.
"Della Squad Reporting: Full Count. We are mobile and ughh … have our Mistresses Blessings." The Della Squad Leader huffing reported as the sounds of heavy ceramite boots, slaps of flesh/clashing of metal and muffled moans of pleasure echoes off the vox.
"Eversor Squad Reporting: All Counted. Holding, large number of Imperials nearby. Unable to relocate. Still recovering." Eversor Leader whispers into the vox so lowly that even his warped enhanced hearing struggled to hear it over the prayers to the corpse god, vows of vengeance and numerous threats or insults thrown at them. Though a steady pace of soft tapping could still be heard and they fact they were still in hiding means they aren't completely fucked without a connection to their patron.
"Gusto Squad Reporting: Immobile. Four dead, two crippled- both Wackers cursed. Snagged a few bolter bitches before jetting off the walls towards the road when the shit hit. Will watch for enemy activity as we pray to Slaanesh." A younger sounding voice reported as screams of pain, forced pleasure and enough curses to make even a Black Templar blush leaked in from the background. Senior half of the squad must be dead then as none of them would have made such rookie mistakes on a mission like not silencing a offering and not knowing proper vox discipline.
They exist for a reason.
"Felinid Squad Reporting: Unknown count. Immobile. Trapped inside one of the Sororitas barracks. Crazy bitch had charged us with a melta bomb before the attack, fell somewhere and got a dozen captives. Will regroup with Della once we dig ourselves out." Felinid Leader reported through gritted teeth as muffled screams leaked in from the background. At least they got some spare offerings if the others are experiencing the same difficulties as him.
"Iso (eye-so) Squad Reporting: two alive. Wounded mobile. Half deaf as the biTCH-" The sounds of crushing metal, bones shattered, shortly followed by a muffed, feminine, blood curdling scream filled the vox "shot off my ear and Ivan had his vocals burned out. We will assimilate with the runts at Gusto and take over as squad lead." Good, the only runt Augusta wants to babysit was his brother. Those fuckers that mostly made up Gusto Squad were whining bitches that begged Wendy to join the Op to prove themselves.
"Jay Ray Squad Reporting: Lonely. These ladies are just not as fun as our BROTHERS THEY SO DELICIOUSLY MURDERED Haaa!" *coughs* "Sorry. Anyway I'm well and fully functional, I recovered the armor and gene seed and will be heading to the ship to drop them off with my new pets so we don't get skinned on our way back home after getting out dear Frankie back. Talihoo!" The sole surviving member of Jester squad stated as a chill ran up Augustas spine.
Mark was always a creep but that was just Wrong...
"Cutter Squad Reporting: full count. Immobile half strength, wounded but not crippled. Armory secured. Meeting Imperial resistance as we load the goods. Repeat Objectives secured. " Augusta had to raise an eyebrow at that. Why was Cutter Squad least affected by the corpse emperors thrice damn blast? It was something he had to keep in mind as they could be his only properly functioning troops.
"Havoc Squad Reporting:" The astartes said weakly before stopping to have a bloody coughing fit "... Last Man, Critical. Ambushed after light. Need help…" The Havoc survivor could be heard to continuously trying to expel clotted blood from his lungs. Shit, the bolter bitches got to his only heavy weapon squad while they were down. That will severely hamper his fighting capabilities, he proceeded to vox two of his remaining squads with gritted teeth.
"Della Squad Lead, Assimilate Jester Squad for reclamation. Prioritize recovery of astartes armor, armaments and gene seed, everything else is second, Cold Spectre Protocol. Regroup with Cutter squad once completed." Getting a "yeah, yeah hardass." and "come with me pretties." as a response he continues to give orders.
"Eversor Squad Lead. New priority, Recon. Report Imperial Movements." The answer he got was a green light and a message on the typed vox that simply states 'you can go fuck yourself but I'll let you know when they move.'
I got to remember to beat that little shit later… Augusta thinks to himself as he voxes another squad.
"Iso Squad you got a slight detour, pick up the poor son of a bitch that's left of Havoc Squad along with their heavy weapons and get Gusto under control. Shoot the runts if you have to but if you kill them you're carrying the corpses back." Augusta was nearly deafened himself when the idiot screamed back 'WHAT' and he did not need the vox to hear said idiot roar in pain when a metal thump sounded off on the vox just after the scream.
The Sergeant sighs in frustration before a quite wondrous sensation makes itself known as his cocksleeve orgasms and clutches on tighter to his manhood in a attempt to ease his frustrations. A moan escapes his lips before returning to the vox.
"Felinid Squad once your asses stop playing with the infrastructure head to Cutter Squad location and prepare to leave. You are to head back to the ship with our spoils and recover until you are called for our extraction. We are not leaving until Franklin is ours once more." Augusta didn't wait for for a response as he hung up the vox as he turned to his men.
They had attacked and crippled a squadron of Sororitas but couldn't kill the cunts before the blast, which in of itself was a blessing as his squad couldn't move without such acts of debauchery he was committing now to empower them. Four of his squad had died due to being wounded and weakened during the attack when the blast washed over them. This had simply resulted in complete organ failure and the wounded just falling dead. All of his men had followed his lead in terms of offerings. That is to say the mildly amusing scene before him as five Night Lords had a Sororitas impaled on their cocks, their legs wrapped their new masters as they gripped onto whatever holdings of their power armor they can get. Two of the Sororitas were facing away from their master and he could see the comical look of utter bliss upon their faces as they hold back screams of elasticity. Augusta briefly notes that their eyes are glowing purple and seems to emit a mist of a light pink from their newly colored irises.
"Get your shit together, we're still hunting." He commanded as they walked back to the shadows.
Sinner by Birth…
Only when we turn,
Night Lords are here...
From His light willingly,
A Mark of Great Evil…
Do we truly Damn ourselfs.
Franklin opened his eyes to a clear evening sky as he slowly gained consciousness. The unfamiliar yet oddly comforting scenery put him both at ease and disturbed him at the same time. Where was he? How'd he get here? Where are the others? These and countless other thoughts race through his mind as gathers his bearings and takes in his surroundings.
He was in a wide open field with rolling hills covered in all different kinds of flowers as far as his eye can see. The various reds, whites, yellows and blues scattered randomly across his vision felt soothing to his eyes. The sun was setting on the horizon giving the sky a gold, orange and red hue as clouds dotted the air.
The smell of the flowers fragrance hits his nostrils as an unknown.
His limited knowledge of such pleasantries hampering his ability to progress the smell effectively and made him sick and nauseous. He stumbles a step, his pants sleeve uprooting one of the flowers as it sticks to him. The red colored flower had gently wrapped around his ankle like a hand of a curious child tugging on their parents hand before asking a question. Franklin grabs the stem of the plant with his right hand and hisses as he was rewarded with a bloodied palm from the thorns. Trinkets of blood fall to the soil as the plants begin to emit a golden aura.
Then all hell broke loose.
Time seems to slow to a crawl as Franklin reacts on instinct, the limited combat training he received guiding his actions as the air in front of him sizzles. He jumps back as a being flashes into existence in a fountain of blood. Time is still moving far to slow as Franklin is practically floating mid air awaiting to hit the ground, the thing seemed unaffected by the boys predicament.
As Franklin got a clearer picture he felt dread like none before as he sets he eyes on the spike filled, red skin monstrosity in front of his free falling form. The red, horned, bone covered daemon in front him flashed a predatory grin as it raises a claw hand almost casually.
Only for said clawed hand to be separated from its host as a scorched blade made its home in the warp tainted flesh. Something crashes into Franklin as it launches off the daemon in what was presumably an attack on the warp spawn judging by the near comical look of disbelief on the daemons "face" before a blur of black armor obstructed his view. The distinctive sound of bolter and las weaponry filled the air as a daemonic roar nearly deafened him. The fighting continues for several "seconds" before it suddenly stops. The silence was suffocating for the time it took him to hit the ground with a thud as he crashes and tumbles to the ground before landing on top of his attacker.
Franklin struggled to get untangled from his aggressor until he noticed something he never believed he would see in person. A shadow of a symbol on the chest plate of his "rescuer" that vaguely reminiscent of a imperial bridge with a human skull under it archway but heavily worn down. The boy looked up see the blackened helm of one of the most deadly units outside of the angels of death that are the astartes to ever serve the Imperium.
And he was sitting on top of them.
"K-K-Karsin…" Franklin whispered in both equal amounts of awe and shock.
Though blackened with scorch marks from the fires of war the child could still make out spots of its original camouflaged pattern and the definitive shape of their Carapace Armor as battered as it is. Franklin scrambled to his feet and tried to salute his obvious superior when a armored hand grabbed his shirt, halting all thoughts of moment as they turned him around, still affected by the near stand still of time. He sees a group of more Cadian Karsin along with Tempous Scions around a dozen or more in number, five visible Sororitas were among them as well.
Just as with the Karsin Franklin was entangled with just a moment before the others had their wargear scarred and burned with only small patches of color visible. Their battered armor, various trinkets, purity seals and other religious, planetary or regimental items were the only clues Franklin had to identify the blacken imperial warriors but it wasn't enough.
Any thoughts of these entities being former Imperials soon cease to exist as Franklin was face to face to with his handler. A blacken helm decorated with the most beautiful and detailed engravings the boy has ever seen met his eyes. Metal burned darker then the voidness of space with specks and patches of gold as if the Fires of War were synonymous to the stars and nebulas of the galaxy. In fact the longer Franklin looked upon the armor itself the more he believed it contained the essence of the cosmos.
The boy jumped, started by the intensity and might behind the voice as it shook his very core. He briefly noticed his lack of restrictions as he moved startled.
"Revelation has summoned you."
RoV Reviews are alway welcomed.