1,386I would like to Thank everyone for the support and a special thanks to those that left a constructive review. I do take time to read every review I receive; I like reading opinions of my story and I do try to address problems.
Author's Note:
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Finally got this chapter knocked out.
Needed a bit of filler to add before the Hogwarts years so I filled up with a bit of grim dark.
Alright and with that, lets continue our adventure!
Disclaimer: I in no way own these characters or worlds that take place in this story, I am just playing around with the sandbox left to me and my imagination. But the OCs are MINE!
Edited By Darklord331
Chapter 20: Martial Magic
[Tavish POV]
Sitting across from Rose, I felt my hair stand on end as she harnessed a small spark of electricity.
I was teaching her to focus on the magics that came most naturally to her, and it was discovered that she had a bit of a affinity for lightning magic.
As the most experienced in this area, I took her under my wing focusing on that aspect before expanding her horizon.
It was an interesting experience for me as well to focus purely on raw lightning. I normally only focus on the pure destructive power harnessed within the entirety of the storm, verses a portion of it.
It went well with distracting me from more pressing matters.
Recently, two things have been at the forefront.
The first and more easily resolved, I could feel my geneseed calling me back to the 41st millennium.
Where I could end up? Who could say, but if their was one thing I was really good at, it was waging war.
It was the second issue that I was struggling to wrap my noggin around.
Lucious Malfoy was doubling down on education reform within the Witenagemot. Several subjects that had been removed from the curriculum were up for adding back.
The problem was the lack of teachers for some of these subjects.
This prompted the introduction of a new class at Hogwarts requiring students to pursue extracurricular magical studies.
Whether it be advanced subject material, or other magics not commonly taught in the core curriculum, they opened a teaching position of Magical Counseling.
And he put my name forward.
He somehow got ahold of my N.E.W.T. scores, which were quite respectable considering the advanced cybernetics helping out my thought process, but also brought up the fact that I was consistently given offer's to guest speak at other magical institutions.
Finally, he emphasized the additional safety of having a mage of my caliber on Hogwarts grounds protecting the students.
And their was a disturbing amount of support for this idea.
Thankfully, the Wizengamot couldn't force me to take the job, and I was kind of interested in it.
But how was dipshit benefiting from this?
I knew that he was on the board of directors for the school thanks to his superpower of money, but outside of keeping an eye on me. I couldn't see any detriments to anything I cared about.
He knows, that I'll just kill him if he becomes too big of a pain in my ass, so worst comes to worst, I could just fall back on that.
On to brighter topics, Augusta wrote to me and apparently Neville had really taken to the druidic book I passed onto him, and his magic had become palpable to the very air around him, their greenhouses flourishing as a result.
It was the picture that she sent along with the letter that caused me to snort in amusement.
Glancing back at the picture, I could see the very confused bear cub, sitting in a pile of shredded clothing.
Apparently, he had discovered the ability to "Wild Shape", and couldn't quite figure out how to change back.
Augusta was ecstatic about the new affinity for magic that Neville was displaying, but kindly requested that since I was partially responsible in helping him change back.
Which I think is a pretty fair request, so I'm having to speed read about druidic magics while helping Rose with her magic.
A decent way to spend a Thursday afternoon in my humble opinion.
An explosion echoed out from nearby as rocks flew into the air above the tree line, and I watched Rose turn and look enviously in the direction that Eleanor was training.
She truly thrived under Macha's tutelage, and her spellcraft was leagues above Eleanor's, but she quite often overlooked this fact when she saw the sheer power that Eleanor could call upon.
Rose was cunning in her pursuit of magic. As she tried to keep up with Eleanor, she often devised ingenious ways to utilize her limited magical reserves.
Reserves that would only expand as her understanding of mana increased.
Hmm . . . come to think of it, maybe a bit of advice would be just the ticket right now.
"Rose, don't rely on your mana to create the lightning. Have it reach out and grab what exists around you." I comment, causing her head to snap to me quickly.
"But don't I need my mana to create the lightning?" She asked, and I made a so-so gesture.
"Think back to the books I had you read explaining how weather forms. Think about it on a scientific level, and then increase the scale."
The wind picks up as clouds form, and a thin arc of lighting connects the tip of my finger between myself and the sky.
"Once you encourage the lightning, you can transfer the energy back and forth, increasing the scale further. For the lightning is from magic, and the magic is from lightning. Water and wind increase the scale of your power bank, and once you can introduce ice . . ." I trail off, as we look at the violent swell above.
"The scale of your spells can rival even the capabilities of legend." I state, turning back to her as she watches the scale with awe.
"Now, forget trying to summon lightning. Try encouraging that cloud above to generate it for you." I encourage waving my hand and dispelling the cloud cover, leaving a single solitary dark cloud.
Rose furrowed her brows and focused on the dark cloud, her magic surging up and connecting to the cloud.
A bolt of lightning arced along the connection, playfully sparking against her nose, causing Rose to yelp and cover her nose in reflex.
[Aspect of the Storm has Displayed its interest in the young practitioner.]
I felt a surge in Rose's power as lightning started arcing around us, the sky darkening once more, her eyes going wide at the sheer scale of magic around, before with a flash of light and thunder, a dark blue egg appeared in front of Rose, the outside marked with lightning designs.
[Familiar Egg] (Epic)
A gift from the Aspect of the Storm to a new blessed individual.
[Byakugan]
Looking inside the egg, a set of eyes sleepily cracked open, before returning to sleep.
Whatever's in there is definitely avian, but I don't think Ouro's getting a new baby brother.
"Congratulations Rose! You got a familiar, and access to a greater tier of storm magic." I encourage them as she gingerly picks up the egg.
"It's a big responsibility, so be sure to take care of it." I continue ruffling her hair fondly and she bats at my hand in irritation.
"Macha may know more about the type of critter in there, so why don't you see what you need to do to hatch it." I encourage, and she nod's and starts hurrying towards home.
"Thanks for the help Tavish!" She calls back over her shoulder, and I wave.
Reaching out with my mind, I find Macha's mind and gently knock.
Feeling her open a connection, I start chatting with her; "Rose is on her way with her new familiar. I don't think its another Coutil, but it will be interesting to say the least."
"Maybe a Thunder Bird? I saw the outbursts of lighting over there. I take it our little fledgling is starting to flap her wings?" She said warmly, as our minds touch.
"Her affinity for the storm may be greater than mine one day. We just have to make sure she doesn't develop any of the wand-wavers habits." I reply, and we fall into silence for a bit.
"I can feel something pulling at you from across realms." She commented, and I sigh.
"One of the dimensions I'm anchored to. It's calling for me to interfere with an event." I reply, ignoring the alert.
"Well go take care of it. The alert is grating on my nerves. How long has it been going off?" She asked, and I think back.
"About two months . . ." I trail off and I can feel exasperation over the link.
"Go take care of it! I'm surprise you haven't been driven insane by months of that incessant background noise." She finished, booting me out of her mind.
Shrugging, I snap my fingers and open a portal and walk through.
[Argent D'nur]
Stepping out in my Primarch form, I survey the workers running about the battle station in orbit.
It was a decision I had made sometime back as I built more forces, to allow for training in space combat and foundry construction and for the planet below to continue to recover from daemonic corruption.
Huge thuds drew my attention as a massive Contemptor pattern dreadnought approached, his pauldron bearing the slayer's sigil, while the rest of his frame bore the markings of the Emperor's Children.
[Observe]
Rylanor, The Ancient of Rites
Thoughts – Restlessness
"Greeting's Primarch. Myself and the legion grow restless. Does the Imperium request our aid once more?" The dreadnought growled, cutting straight to the point much to my bemusement.
"Indeed it does honored one. Call the warriors. Let them sharpen their blades for the battle to come." I state, a trickle of excitement creeping into my being.
"I look forward for my fist to soak in the blood of traitors." Rylanor roared, his power fist sparking as he stumped off to pass on the message.
Stepping into my personal workshop, I look at my updated power armor, its aegis helm glaring out into the room, its massive gauntlets resting to its sides.
[Rip & Tear] (God-tier)
The Emperor blessed modular power fists of Tavarius Machina. A work of art that would make the likes of Vulkan jealous with their level of craftmanship. These weapons of war are able to fully encapsulate the sheer power of the final primarch.
Sliding on my armor, I felt the hum of power as the gauntlets lit up with power.
I could feel a psykic scream of desperation and I hurried with the rest of my armor.
This would be the first time my Night Sentinels will make themselves known.
Fingers crossed that it left a good impression.
[Ursarker E. Creed POV]
Glancing over the holotable as another shell shook the building, I searched for yet another angle to fend off the invading force.
The Xenos that had rendered aid had enabled us to work with more of a foothold, but Abadon's forces continued to press hard against the defenses, taking advantage of every inch they could seize.
An alert came in from the navy fighting and I answered the alert. Lord Admiral Quarren flickered into existence on the holotable.
"Lord Castellan. I'm picking up hundreds of new signatures coming from deep space. It appears that something is intending to join our little scrap." The admiral commented in jest, as a shot rocked the bridge he was on.
"Did the damn despoiler bring more support?" I growl, as the Admiral shares his readouts.
"Unknown . . ." He trailed off as a crewman shouted something in the background.
"We're receiving a transition now. Stand by." Quarren stated, and garbled static was slowly cleared.
"This is super destroyer "Gauntlet of Family Values" reporting for duty. Cadia Stands!" The first voice roared out over the intercom and hundreds more joined in a cacophony.
"Claw of Redemption checking in. Lets bust through the blockade and help our lads on the ground, yeah?"
"Sentinel of War checking in. Give 'em both barrels."
"Fist of The Emperor checking in. Bringing MAC cannons online."
"I have something huge coming in." The admiral interjected before I watched the monitor and I watched amongst the massive number of ships, a hulking ship almost the size of the Blackstone fortress emerged from the warp, its weapons bristling.
"This is Ark Mechanicus: Infinity. I have a bunch of raging Night Sentinels and a primarch chomping at the bit to tear Abadon a new one, would you kindly clear a path before they start launching each other out of my airlocks?" A very bemused captain, interjected and my mind froze.
A primarch?
Here of all places?
The vox crackled as a new, deeper voice spoke out from the din.
"This is Tavarius Machina. Primarch of the Night Sentinels. I send my greetings Admiral, Lord Castellan."
Opening a channel, I saw a holo of the massive primarch appear on the holo table next to the admiral.
"Lord Machina. It was unexpected that you would emerge into real space in our hour of need." I stated, the holo flickered as he shifted.
"The emperor protects Lord Castellan. Sometimes too much, but he has allowed me and my legion to emerge from the warp. Our weapons of war yearn to obliterate the enemies of Cadia if you'll have us." The Primarch growled, and I smiled grimly.
"I won't say no. That black stone fortress has been giving us hell jumping in and out of realspace." The admiral commented, and the primarch nodded in acknowledgment.
"I'll dispatch a strike team with an exorcist attachment. They will take that fortress, or break it in half to deny Abadon his little toy. Our admirals will update you with our current capabilities for the aerial war." He replied, before turning back to me.
"Lord Castellan, the 82nd Argentian Helldivers accompany us to battle and they are ready to bring death from above. The Night Sentinels 10th company has already made planetfall, and are roaming the planet with their Panzerhund gathering data and hunting the invaders. As soon as a target is designated, the rest of my forces are ready to deploy with a vengeance." The primarch stated, and I blinked in surprise.
"Primarch, you've just barley entered the system . . . how have you had time to get forces planeside without a single craft?" I questioned, and he smiled slyly.
"By the blessings of the Omnissiah. We stood ready as soon as we emerged from the warp and had some archeotech assist us with teleportation to the surface. I would have sent the other companies in a similar way, but the archenemy caught on to my intentions and will interfere without us smashing their little blockade open."
"I fully intend on treading on Cadia itself before the day is done, so if its alright with you gentlemen, I need to deploy my forces." He finished, his ships opening fire as they jockey for positions in orbit."
-Be advised, Orbital weapons detected!-
The alert jarred my senses as I saw hundreds of ships and drop pods launched from the lead destroyer, throwing its payload at the planet.
[Tavish POV]
Stepping into my Thunderhawk, I look on to the ten tech-paladins serving as my honor guard. A massive nano pilon rested on the floor of the craft.
[Outpost Nano Pilon]
Upon being driven into the ground, it starts building a mobile fortress/command center. Its dedicated team feeds it more materials to increase its defenses and fortifications until it becomes an unstoppable bulwark.
The ship shudders as it takes off, rocketing towards the surface of the planet.
"Everyone clear on what their task is when we land?" I ask, checking the feed belts going down my arms to my storm bolters, the psycannon rounds cracking with energy.
"Feed the outpost till it can scavenge on its own. Kill any heretic that gets in our way." Dromond supplied, attaching his plasma pistol to his waist.
"Locate Abadon. kick his teeth in. Profit." Barud added, running a final systems check.
"Defend Cadia, don't let the planet get cracked in half." Solvik rumbled, his nemesis force claws gleaming in the dark of the hold.
"I'm glad you were all listening so attentively." I state, exasperation filling my tone as I hear similar responses from the rest.
"Fuck You." I hear from the back and I see the one marine outlier that I had added to the honor guard.
A genetic mutation of my geneseed, caused some of my marines to become horrendously angry.
Like me when I was raging, except they were in a perpetual state of rage.
For some reason they could only speak in methods of anger, or profanities, possibly some form of Tourette's.
Very loyal marines, and I could understand them. But to their detriment, they had a hard time communicating with others, and tended to be an eclectic bunch.
For instance, Jethroe here presented me with the first ever "power bat" seen amongst my legion's armaments. And he himself, wielded a power-boot on each foot, and a power-bat lovingly being tapped against his palm.
"Yes Jethroe, we are also here to secure local assets and goodwill to possibly develop a training outpost for the chapter here. The demonic invasions make for an excellent force for our new bloods to sharpen their teeth with." I reply, smiling at him, and I could sense his hum of contentment.
"It still blows me away you packed all that into a single fuck, Jethroe." Barud grinned at the man, and Jethroe grumbled in response.
"One minute till touch down folks. Its going to get a bit bumpy, so do me a favor and destroy the local anti-air so I can get back out." We hear the pilot over the local comm.
"The warp is screaming my lord. Legio Fateweaver is going to have its work cut out for it." Lod commented from the back, clutching his staff tightly as he suppressed the nearby surge of warp.
"Legio Fateweaver will need the help of all librarians including yourself to cleanse the local space, Lod. I think its about time to remove the stains of chaos from the warp, don't you?" I comment, and the mana user nodded solemnly.
"Indeed. Chaos has escaped back to the warp once too many for my tastes. I look forward to perma-killing those that infest its majesty." Lod replied, with grim determination.
"Don't worry brother, I will guard your back while you work your craft. We still have that drinking competition when we get back." Solvik interjected joyfully, bumping shoulders with the librarian.
"I look forward to it Solvik. Mayhap we find some space wolves that appreciate the finer art of partying like ourselves." Lod said, cracking a smile.
The craft shudders as it lands, and my helm seals shut, and the ramp slams open.
I lunge out, scanning the nearby area, and immediately picking up the tears in realspace.
A dangerous implication considering how Cadia was the location of the Blackstone pilons.
The Cadian Pilons, were the remains of an ancient Necron Fortress against the old ones, and while inactive, they provide a stabilizing effect to the planet, protecting it from the surges of warp from the Eye of Terror.
If memory serves, Belisarius Cawl and Trayzn the Infinite were in the process of trying to activate these pilons. What I didn't know, is why they didn't succeed.
Was it because of the Blackstone fortress in the sky above?
As the honor guard erected the outpost pilon within the remains of a land raider, I activated the communication suite in my armor, and searched for signals on every medium.
Picking up the signal I was searching for, I pick out a Blackstone pilon in the distance.
"Once the outpost has constructed, move it to the pilon." I call out as the honor guard spread out, Jethroe vanishing behind a hill.
With Cadia being a fortress world, I expected the planet to be a hell of a lot more fortified, but the defenses were centered around massive fortress cities.
This left vast stretches of tundra and untouched wilderness. And while it wasn't ideal to wage war against chaos from outside the cities, this was the quickest way to get troops, weapons, and supply lines planet-side.
-Analysis Complete-
-Strong enough Kinetic bombardment suitable for destabilizing anti-warp tech.-
GAIA's AI voice interjected, confirming my thoughts.
Cawl succeeded in his mission, but Abadon sacrificed his Blackstone fortress to deny the sealing of the Eye of Terror.
A roar, followed by a massive thump, as Jethroe came running from the other side of the hill, a broken power bat clutched in his hand.
The earth shook as a helbrute stumped out from behind the hill, blood gushing from beneath its dreadnought plate. The source of the wound became apparent as I caught sight of the collapsed plating from Jethroe's initial strike.
Barud ran forward and braced, allowing Jethroe to launch himself up over the beast and slam down through it with both feet, the power boots exploding with power, blowing it apart.
"Bitch!" He said, satisfaction dripping from his tone.
"Well, judging how quickly that one found us, I imagine more are close behind." Lod commented, watching the demonized dreadnought twitch in its death throes.
"Aye. They will be quite upset to find that we will give them the final death." Solvik growled, scanning the horizon.
Daemons and chaos born critters had a nasty habit of escaping to the warp whenever you killed them, often forcing the imperium to seal their advisories within the warp.
But Argentians killed demons for thousands of years. And they have spent the time honing their craft to the point that it was almost a rite of passage to deliver the "final death" to a demonic entity.
This little skirmish?
Basically spring cleaning.
The warp was so dangerous simply because it was clogged up with dark gods and their little lackies, so purging the infested space would hopefully give us a bit more wiggle room.
"Hurry and gather more materials for the pilon! I want at least a handful of heavy bolter emplacements, and a skitarii forge up and running before those idiot's get wise to our movements." I call out and the marines snap to it, putting melta guns to the helbrute, melting the ceramite down to slag to feed to the forge.
"Let this hallowed structure stand as a testament to his glory."
"A bulwark against the machinations of the Arkifane."
"The unifying pilar to shelter the lost."
"And the bane of those who would assault its majesty."
"In the Omnissiah's hallowed name . . ."
"I SANCTIFY THIS HOLY GROUND!"
Thalgrim was probably one of the more devout Tech-Paladins, and the results certainly showed as the massive cascade of holy energy suffused the area, calming the surrounding warp, pushing away the tendrils of dark magics that continuously assailed the planet.
"Our forge shall burn with holy flames brothers. Let us burn away this corrupt abomination and renew it with the holy works of the machine god!" Thalgrim boomed, his voice causing the ground to tremble slightly.
A ping on my Hud informed me that the ships in orbit finished charting out the battle on the surface, and I set off towards the nearest battle.
[POV Saint Celestine]
One would naturally be suspicious of the forces that come from the warp in a time of need. Chaos was an insidious force not even counting the other entities at work within the galaxy.
The Alpha legion were known to pose as reinforcements to accomplish hidden goals of conflicting natures was well known, so the general uncertainty surrounding their deployment was met with much nervousness.
But one thing that shone through from the smallest helldiver to the impressive heights of their space marines.
Their indomitable will.
When the first wave of this branch of the astra militarum hit the surface near our position, I expected the rallying cries of a regiment trying to band back together.
Instead, they threw markers to coordinate with ships in low orbit. And as hundreds of tons of ordinance fell from the super destroyers, each man and woman had a single cry on their lips.
"Cadia Stands!" The nearest hell diver roared, his shoulder mounted auto cannon barked with each shot breaking the ceramite plating of a forge fiend towering above the fortifications.
"This is Eagle-1. 500kg away! Making ready for another pass." I heard from his radio, and a fighter swoops low overhead, dropping the bomb and lodging it in the carapace of the hellish abomination.
The bomb blew the creature into chunks of flesh and twisted metal.
This was yet another surprising development, as daemons usually disintegrated into warp energy. The bodies left behind signified a more permanent end to such abominations.
"Resupply depot established! Come my friends. Let me reforge your tools of war so you may better serve the will of the Emperor!" I hear from behind and I turn to see the small fortified foundry that the Tech-Paladin had established.
These Night Sentinels, most stood equivalent in size to custodes, worked in a similar manner to the sons of Dorn, but expanded their talents to support every ally that served the emperor. Their forms extruded sheer holy power that cleansed the nearby warp-space.
Small gun emplacements, warded off the smaller daemons as the marine joyfully threw himself into his work, slowly propping up the defenses bit by bit, adding skitarii and battle automata in increasing density.
The warp above twisted as a helldrake flew overhead, contesting a Thunderhawk that was descending towards the landing pad nearby.
Its claws slashed into the wing of the craft before a massive fist punched through the side, grabbing it by the throat.
"Worry not beast! I will end thy life soon enough. Why rush such an occasion?" The roar was heard through out the city as the Contemptor pattern dreadnought lunged from the wreckage of the falling ship, his feet slamming into the ground.
His chassis whirled as he rended the head from the beasts body, his assault cannon mowing down the squad of chaos marines bearing down on the position.
The Geminae Superia who fought by my side, Genevieve and Eleanor, looked on in wonder at the ancient dreadnought, and the Night Sentinels near us dropped to a knee.
"We honor the ancient of rites! Welcome to the battlefield Lord Rylanor!" The Paladin nearest me shouted, the dreadnought waved for them to stand.
"Cease with the honorific's whelps. Do not forget this is a battlefield." He uttered before scanning the battlefield.
"While this is no Istvan III, I dislike seeing the sight of brother verses brother." Rylanor uttered, melancholy lacing his tone, before his view port settled on me.
"This universe continues to surprise me the more I see of it. I'm quite certain you did not exist in the Emperor's grand plan." He stated, causing gasps from all around.
Holding up to halt the protests of Genevieve, I address the dreadnought in turn; Yet here we are, fulfilling his holy work. Do you not fulfill a similar purpose ancient one?" I ask politely, and his servo's whine, as he gestures out over the city.
"His work yes. Holy remains to be seen."
"You have to remember young one, I come from a time where I tread the same ground as the Emperor, breathed the same air as him, fought alongside him, hell I even spoke to him. And he was indeed a mighty man, his primarchs copies of his aspects, but he demanded we treat him as nothing more than a man."
"He was our emperor, the unifying light for humanity, and one of the most powerful existences I've to encounter."
"It is indeed his power that "blesses" you and your sisters. Just as he blesses his final primarch."
"My comment is more of reference to how times have changed since his internment in the golden throne." The ancient dreadnought mused, and I was filled with awe at this being's presence.
I had stood before the emperor many times in spirit, felt his power embrace me in a warm embrace. But the fact that such an ancient dreadnought stood before me with such clarity of purpose. A true relic that had stood at our god's side during the great crusade, is something that even the most openminded of humans would struggle to comprehend.
"Then what brings you to our aid, venerated one?" Eleanor spoke, reverence dripping from her tone.
"While my own chapter and Primarch have fallen to the machinations of chaos, I am still the last honored member of the Emperor's Children. I am their ancient of rites. The holder of the chapter's values. The Night Sentinels have given me a home, and the honor of maintaining their rites. Each of these men, without a moments hesitation, would dive straight into hell if their primarch bade it, and I will provide counsel and a strong arm if they'll have me." Rylanor rumbled out, and another nearby Night Sentinel slammed a fist against his breastplate.
"We honor your wisdom ancient, and stand glad to receive it." He replied, his comrades echoing his words.
The sound of howls broke over the field, and all of the Sentinels perked up in response.
"The sons of Russ are expressing their displeasure at the invasion." One of the marines murmured.
"Shall we go introduce ourselves?" Another asked.
"May as well, it'd be a damn shame if they had all the fun without us." A different one stated.
"Then it is settled. I heard the Ironwolves great company was nearby. I wonder if they have changed any since I last met the Space Wolves." Rylanor stated, stomping for emphasis.
"I doubt it ancient one. Shall we be off?" I add, taking the surreal situation in stride.
These space marines were certainly among the odder chapters I have encountered. Though their blasé nature was certainly refreshing.
[Myrddin POV]
The Thunderhawk descended into orbit, as the brothers under my command checked their weapons.
Legio Fateweaver was the company that I captained, and every single member of this company was what the imperium would dub a "psyker".
Our training was the most stringent out of all the companies, as not only did we master our weapons of war, we mastered the mana that welled up within.
The daemons of the warp were reduced to gnats hitting bug zappers under the carful guide of our primarch, as he tutored us in the best ways to wield the warp to purge daemons for good.
This resulted in many of the magics we know to be physical in nature.
A light flashed green and the front door of the ship opened, letting wind rip in, the battlefield still passing far below.
Scanning the horizon, I finally spot my first target.
A banelord-class titan.
It ravaged the defenses, a small group of astra militarum scrabbling about near its feet, and several Ultramarine fireteams were moving through nearby structures trying in vain to bring down the monstrosity.
"Gentlemen, good hunting." I stated, walking to the edge of the door.
"Rip and tear, until it is done." The response was parroted back as I leap off the edge.
After centuries of disuse, to think I'd have the honor, of bringing our mightiest machines to the battlefield with a simple spell.
[Atlan]
The three-hundred-meter-tall machine landed, causing the planet to shake, drawing the attention of every fighter in the area. Its sentinel core lighting up as the shoulder mounter rail cannons glow with deadly intent.
Both sides watched in amazement, as the banelord almost seemed to shrink in on itself, in comparison, only barley reaching the ankle of the machine.
"Cadia shall not fall today, vermin! The Night Sentinels march to take Abaddon's head!" I roar, bringing up my boot and crushing the offence to mechs everywhere.
Directing my gaze to the Ultramarines that still had weapons bared, I turn my head, taking in the various forces at my feet.
"Greetings sons of Ultramar. I am Captain Myrddin of the Night Sentinels 7th company. Do you happen to know of any other chaos machines that require purging? I fear that the dark ones did not bring enough opposition to satisfy my brethren." I question, as a second and a third Atlan landed on the battlefield further away.
"By the primarch . . . I have never heard or seen astartes pilot anything of that magnitude. Where did you discover such relics cousin? And in such number I might add?" The lead marine wondered, and my smile was hidden behind the layer upon layer of steel.
"Each one was assembled by my brothers as part of their initiation into Legio Fateweaver. It is not a frivolity as much a demand for facing the Titan-class daemons, and putting them down for good. The machine I put down, is a simple pale imitation in both size and stature, of the daemons that wander the umber plains of hell. Thus, our Atlans were created to combat the threat." I explain simply as three more Atlans land, their pilots looking for targets.
"Not to sound ungrateful cousin, but I feel as if such massive machines are overkill despite our dire straits." The ultramarine stated, slightly sheepish.
"You are correct. Cadia is merely our staging point until we rip out the traitor's spine. Besides provide fire support, we are here with a very specific target in mind in addition to the traitor engines." I state, pointing my palm and firing the arm cannon at a tank heading in our direction.
"And what would require your firepower?" the marine next to the first spoke up.
I gesture at the Blackstone fortress floating overhead in orbit.
"Brother's, Abadon has had his toy for long enough. Let us shatter it." I issue my first order, and I see numerous rail cannons light up the battlefield.
One of them fired, and blew up a heretic engine on the field, leaving a crater in its place.
"Brother Jimmy, I swear to the Emperor . . ." one of the other Atlans, muttered and I heard the protest of the culprit.
"I felt it was better to take care of the tank before it over ran the Kriegsman's position." The marine defended.
"You are correct. Take two of your brothers with you and break the enemies' backs with your might. Lets help mop up the ground conflict as quick as possible." I state, and the named "Jimmy", nodded once and gestured for two others and they wandered off across the front searching for more opponents.
Bracing my stance, I let off the first volley from my rail cannons as they impact the fortresses shields.
My brothers joined in, the combined firepower, quickly burning through the shield.
The Blackstone fortress itself would be more useful if we stripped it for parts and mapped out its technology. Its materials, particularly the Blackstone, would be of more use in our forges. Our primarch was disappointed that he lacked the materials to add a greatsword to his arsenal due to our lack of Blackstone, but that should be easily rectified by turning it to scrap!
[Time Skip]
[Abadon POV]
The losses were quickly becoming too heavy to sustain the crusade.
A single group of Night sentinels had managed to board the Blackstone fortress, and instead of attempting to seize the bridge like any logical commander would have them do, they devoted themselves to wreaking havoc on the control systems, rendering the station effectively immobile.
I had no idea how those giant marines were hiding so effectively on board, but despite the chaos demons possessing the ship, they were managing to travel under the radar and take the time to ambush any of the crew at their leisure.
A cultist could be walking down a hallway on some menial task, when an arm could reach out of a nearby vent and the crew man would vanish in an instant.
This forced me to have the chaos marines constantly patrolling so at least some tasks were accomplished.
It was almost like I was fighting the Alpha legion all over again, except their commander was like Alpharius on Necromunda stimulants.
I swear I got a glimpse of the marine once, when he was in the midst of a kill.
He had rigged a power coupling to overload above a certain section of hallway outside the war room, turning a number of chaos marines to pulp as they exited.
The only thing I saw of him was the glint of a visor, before he zipped up along a conduit channel out of sight.
How did I know they were space marines despite their lack of bulky armor?
Nothing else that was human had that stature.
They definitely boarded the ship wearing the armor of the Night Sentinels before we lost track of that damnable group, but one thing was for certain.
We had to find them before they caused more damage, because we are going to run out of servitors at this rate.
The fortresses shields outside the view port continued to crack at the sustained assault from the battle fleets in space, and the Atlans prowling across the surface of Cadia.
Where, in the name of all that is chaos, did that damn corpse-god hide such massive weapons of war?
These machines were taller than the rumored Castigator-class titan, which stood above the Imperator-class still in use today.
Imperator-class stood at 150 meters tall, at a minimum! And each Atlan was at least twice that?
Thankfully, it appeared that these Atlan had less weapon platforms than an Imperator, but each weapon at its disposal was no less powerful than anything on those giant walking churches.
I wanted to seize one the moment that I heard each machine was piloted by a single astartes librarian, but I had a bigger problem.
A lot of promises were made to various forces, and should this assault fail, a lot of daemons would come calling to collect on their debts.
Debts that would potentially set me back centuries.
Thus I was trying anything and everything that might make this assault successful, and a Night Sentinel would make a worthy prize.
If I could catch a single one of the bastards.
Reports have confirmed at least forty Night Sentinels had died in defense of the planet over the course of the last week, each one dyeing on top of a pile of demons.
But they each left a present behind when they fell.
Whenever my forces would approach the bodies to start gathering data about the new threat, they would explode with the force of 21.5 kilotons of force.
Orbital sensors have confirmed more of these explosions, and detected the after presence of anti-matter.
Meaning that each of those marines have about a gram of antimatter on their person. In the event of capture or death, they would simply initiate the bomb, and turn any losing battle into a pyrrhic victory.
What was worse, was the aftermath of killing a Night Sentinel left his spirit to wander the battlefield, and it continued to kill daemons. It was a lot slower than a living Night Sentinel, but the spirit continued to roam the fields of battle, guarding his comrades and allies from harm.
Even the legion of the dammed didn't have such tenacity when it came to killing the forces of chaos. The only ones I could name for having similar ability was the Eldar with their wraith bone constructs.
So I switched tactics to focus on two targets.
Belisarius Cawl . . .
And Tavarius Machina.
If I could kill or capture one of them, I might be able to turn this conflict around before it is too late.
[Tavish POV]
Bounding over another pile of rubble, I bring my fist down on another daemon, turning him into a fine red mist with the activation of the gauntlet.
After getting locked into a logistical nightmare, I had found an opportunity to escape and I took it to cause some mayhem of my own to see if I could catch Abadon's attention.
The little fucker was camped out in orbit on that damn fortress, and clearly had no interest in coming down despite the pounding his shields took from the Atlan's. So I was quite happy to find ways to incentivize him.
After having a lovely little chat with some White Scars I found, I discovered that the full deployment of a chapter in defense of a world was almost unheard of, and would almost be considered overkill, despite the planet's importance.
Regardless, I felt that half-assing this defense would be dishonest, and the warp was in dire need of a bit of pest control.
I lost my "honor guard" at some point, but I trust that they are off doing the right thing. Jethroe was building something cannon-like that I didn't quite recognize so I left him to his own devices while I facilitated the all-important task of providing support to beleaguered defenders.
Hearing the roar of an assault cannon towards my left, I angle in that direction until I finally spot Rylanor's bulk.
Several sisters of battle were scattered around, along with Saint Celestine herself fighting a squad of chaos space marines, led by a greater daemon of Khorn.
[Roar of The Beast]
My roar shook the square to its foundations as the fighters froze, and I lunged out of the smoke at the greater daemon.
One thing to note was thanks to my absurdly large primarch size, this was the first entity that I met that matched my height.
It didn't stop me from punching a hole in his chest, but his size was impressive to say the least.
Ripping the daemons heart out as setting it ablaze, I throw his thrashing carcass back into the advancing marines.
[Omni-psionics]
Amplifying my power fist, I slam a wave of force through the enemy, carving a bloody swath that sent any in its path through a blender of psionic blades, that slashed through ceramite, flesh and steel alike.
Slamming my foot into the earth, I will a hole to open up and swallow chaos marines into the earth, crushing them into paste as the ground churns beneath their feet.
Directing my attention to the cultists, who looked up at me in fear, before I slash my hand through the air, causing another wave of force to shred them to pieces.
Scanning the carnage for any surviving chaos forces, I hum in satisfaction before turning to the shocked warriors around me.
"Rylanor, how goes the hunt?" I state, the dreadnought's servo's whirring as he stepped over an imp.
"It goes well Tavarius. You've raised a fine group of whelps to rip a chuck out of the dark ones. Though Mavrok needs to work more on his teamwork . . ." He replies, gently cuffing the marine in question much to his protest.
"They need to hurry up . . ." Mavrok grumbled, and I shoot him a sharp look that quelled his protests.
"Listen to the ancient Mavrok. His advice is not something to take lightly. Not adjusting to your environment is a death sentence to not only yourself, but the people who rely upon you. I just pray that you learn that lesson before it comes back to bite you." I snap at him, causing him to grudgingly nod.
"Now as for the rest of you . . ." I turn taking in the Saint and her retinue, and observe them for a moment before my gaze drifts to the Wolf Lord that had joined us.
"Logan Grimnar. I had heard tell that you took to the fields this day with your brothers, but I didn't expect to meet you myself." I greet, and the Wolf Lord nods once.
"Aye, but no one would expect any of your kin to come roaring out of the void like a pack of ferrisian wolves neither, so lets call it even." He countered revealing a fanged grin.
"True, the all-father works in mysterious ways. Do many of your brothers join in on the battle today?" I ask, and he nods once.
"I know of three companies that fight planet side. But the most interesting ones are our Heresy era allies. It seems like the warp took the time to spit them out in our hour of need."
"Quite fortuitous." I reply, moving past the note quickly.
That group of marines would have a hard enough time acclimating to the 42nd millennium without telling them that they were kidnapped by a Xenos.
Trayzn the Infinite was in cahoots with Cawl, and I vaguely remember the necron releasing a substantial portion of his collection onto the battlefield to buy time for Cawl to activate the Cadian pilons.
"Pardon me lords, but the crux of our issue remains with the fact that the despoiler remains secreted away in the fortress above. We can win as many ground battles as we want, but he maintains the high ground." Saint Celestine interjected, breaking up further banter.
The Saint is right. Despite the Atlan's efforts, who knows how much longer . . ." Logan started before he was interrupted.
"Bitch!" I turned to see Jethroe lumbering over the hill, a massive metal pipe hefted over his head as he scurried over to us.
"What in all that is holy . . ." one of the sisters whispered, as I took in his proud additions to his armor.
The big black pair of angry eyebrows painted onto his war suit were highly amusing, but what interested me the most was the "pipe" that he had liberated from what looked to be a portion of the hive cities hydro plant.
"What have you brought me this time Jethroe?" I ask, examining the pipe and mentally relabeling it.
This is defiantly a launcher of some variety. But what on earth . . .
"Fuck him." He stated, pointing directly at the fortress floating above.
I have never been prouder in my whole life, as I realize what I had been handed.
[Angry Marine Launcher]
A special launcher designed to fire your battle brothers into the enemy to expedite them getting punched in the face.
Turning back to Jethroe, he was giving me what could only be described as "puppy eyes" as he hopefully clutched a jetpack that looked distinctly ultramarine in origin.
Hefting the launcher up onto my shoulder, I grasp the jetpack and he turns around and I attach it to his back.
"Alright, you grab Abadon and then come right back, ok?" I tell the excitedly vibrating marine.
Angling the launcher, I allow him to jump into the hopper of the launcher.
Fiddling with the activation buttons, I hear Jethroe speak the first coherent sentence that could be understood by others.
"Always angry . . . ALL THE TIME!" He roared.
". . .All the time. Emperor be with you Jethroe!"
[Overclock]
[Afterburner]
[Blessing of the Machine God]
I fire the launcher at the Blackstone Fortress, and Jethroe shoots out like a rocket, his terminal velocity quickly surpassing the requirements to escape orbit, and I saw the fortress lurch slightly after a few minutes, and explosions start igniting like little pinpricks of light along he fortress.
I was probably the only person on the planet that could make it out with the naked eye, but it was good to see that he was making rapid progress.
[Jethroe POV]
The others didn't quite understand his thought process.
When he went through the surgeries to become a Night Sentinel, he came out perpetually angry.
A burning rage sat in my gut that slowly bubbled with the urge to punch something.
Not like those pansy-ass Khorn worshipers, they weren't angry enough. They were more interested in slaking a blood thirst or a skull count.
Our . . . difficulties speaking didn't help my case either. I was just as smart as the rest of the Night Sentinels, I just couldn't verbally express it. When it was discovered to be a mutation of the Primarch's geneseed, I was quietly thankful as this meant I was no longer alone.
While commiserating with the others that share my unfortunate fate, which mostly involved in bouts of fighting and knocking each other out to let off steam, the primarch himself came to work with us himself.
He understood us, and our plight and helped re-foster bonds with our other brothers, along with some group therapy for the more rambunctious ones.
Soon enough, he stood as the first of the mutated gene seed that stood alongside their primarch.
And I would be damned if I let down my brothers now.
Maximizing the energy output for my power boots, I blast through a view port and take off running, blowing through anything in my way.
I'm pissed that I lost my power bat to a helbrute earlier, but I managed to find an adequate power fist to make up for the loss.
The energy leaking from the power boots propelled me faster as I plow through a demon, it turning to mist as my speed continues to increase.
Crashing through a bulkhead, it halts my acceleration momentarily before I redouble it, charging through like an unstoppable train.
Alarms blare in the background as I travel miles through the massive structure, my footfalls only halting a moment every time I rend through anything that crosses my path.
Bursting through a final bulkhead, I laid eyes on my target, whose surprise was only outstripped by the speed of the double heel kick that hit him square in the center of his chest
Panic truly set into Abadon's face as we both crashed through the bridges blast shields and plummeted back towards the planet below.
He flailed to grab onto anything as we plunged towards to wartorn world below.
We were riding to hell in a hand basket . . . And I'll be damned if I don't enjoy the ride!
Angling myself towards the chaos war master, I grab ahold of his war plate, and slam my forehead into his nose breaking it, as we continue to plummet towards Cadia.
[Omake: Deliveries to Apokalyps.]
[Tardis Tavern]
[Tavish POV]
Humming to myself, I polish the last glass and put it away.
The festive atmosphere of the tavern, was glowing softly, its last patrons having left an hour ago.
Macha and Eleanor were waiting back at home, so I was cleaning up the last things when I heard the front door open and the sound of wind and sleigh bells filled the room.
Turning, I saw the red covered figure standing in the doorway, his eyes twinkling with a childish wonder.
"Ho, ho, ho, young Mr. Byrne. I was wondering if I could enlist your help with a delivery?" Santa Claus questioned joyfully.
Looking past him, I could see the singed reindeer pulling a very broken sleigh, blast marks riddling its frame.
"Always Santa." I state, Nova's controls rising out of the floor, the Tardis powering up.
[Darkseid's POV]
Its that time of year again . . .
I thought we had fended off the machinations of that damned Kris Kringle.
But now I had a blue box flying through the skies towards the palace, dodging flak and phasing past defensive emplacements.
The doors open and two figures jump out, my eyes lighting up with rage as I recognize that jolly old elf as one of them. The other hefted a sack over his shoulder, and caught a missile in his off hand, tossing it back at its launcher.
As the explosion ignited in my peripheral, I saw the man, along with Santa Clause come skidding to a halt in front of my throne.
"Ho, ho, ho! You certainly gave me a run for it this year Mr. Darkseid. I had to outsource the delivery this year . . ." Santa stated, gesturing to the large man in a red furred cap that was waving up cheekily.
"Now, just a quick double check . . ." The old man muttered, pulling a list out of his jacket and pushing his glasses further up his nose.
"Darkseid . . . Darkseid, Ah! Here you are. Definitely on the naughty list this year. Well, get him his coal Tavish." Santa mused, finally addressing the large human.
"Right-oh Mr. Claus!" He replied enthusiastically, upending the massive sack and heaps of coal poured out onto the floor.
"Tavish! Just his coal . . . not everyone else's." Santa reproached, as more and more coal poured out of the sack, betraying the physical dimensions of the magical bag.
"This is still his coal. I took the liberty of donating extra." The man said cheerfully, and the jolly old elf shook his head at his antics.
Merry Christmas!
And have a Happy New Year!