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nevesmose · 11 months ago

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Syndroma Holmiensis

Things are different now. That was the last advice Mikulin's father had given him. The Imperium is the biggest gang on the whole planet. The Night Haunter's gang. Stick with them and you'll do fine, son.

His father had lost an eye in a streetfight years ago and the bribe to fit an augmetic was far beyond their means. Mikulin tried to focus twice as much on the other eye instead, solid depthless black like those of every other Nostraman, as it gleamed with something like desperation combined with raw avarice.

Was it hope, he wondered? Something so rare on the Sunless World that they'd had to steal the Gothic word to describe it exactly. Whatever sibiliant kennings and poetic phrases his ancestors had used to subtly imply the possibility of a better future were gone now. Inefficient in comparison to the language of their new overlords.

Most of the time Mikulin found it hard to care overmuch. His ancestors had mined adamantium and murdered one another in the dark for century upon century and achieved nothing. Built nothing. Created nothing but further generations of void-eyed killers.

Until the Night Haunter came. He who flayed and freed Nostramo, pinned the planet down and eviscerated it inch by inch, block by block, heart by heart and corpse by corpse until nothing was left but order and a full stomach.

Mikulin loved the Night Haunter. Mikulin feared the Night Haunter.

It was natural for him to hold both thoughts simultaneously. He loved and feared his father too, didn't he? A strong provider, working shifts in the mine when the work was there and doing what he had to when it wasn't. But also a monster when he'd been paid and given the money straight back to the company bar.

When he was old enough to work they moved to the nearest great city, Nostramo Secundus. Dear Grey Place, the Adamantite City, a hive built into a vast outcropping of ore-bearing rock that jutted out into the roiling black ocean.

His father had called it a promotion, but the truth came out eventually. The mine bosses were scared that his drunken actions, his too-public offences against the new rules of society, would bring the Night Haunter to them. And the Night Haunter rarely found just one criminal worthy of punishment when paying a visit.

Far safer, therefore, to send the problem away into the teeming masses of the nearest hive city. Losing the work had destroyed his father but Secundus gave Mikulin a new razorgang to run with and all the freedom he was brave enough to steal. And he had the Night Haunter to thank for it.

Mikulin loved the Night Haunter. Mikulin feared the Night Haunter.

Mikulin cared little and knew less of the other demigods who had come later, surrounded by an inferno of blinding light and guarding their father the Emperor. Such events, occurring so far away in the capital, were of little importance to remote grey Secundus. Only the Night Haunter mattered because time and distance meant nothing to him. He could be anywhere on Nostramo, seeing and hearing all in his domain and dispensing punishment to the high and the low alike.

Mikulin loved the Night Haunter. Mikulin feared the Night Haunter.

Then the news reached Secundus that the Night Haunter had left to join his father and brothers in conquering the galaxy for humanity. Mikulin had looked up at the coldly glinting stars and felt a twist of envious fury in his gut. They had taken Nostramo's king from his people and wouldn't even use his name.

Konrad Curze, the Emperor had called him. An alien name from an alien being. Mikulin knew it was the Night Haunter who Nostramo's first Astartes followed into the void, him and no other.

They had tested Mikulin once for suitability. Just put your hand in the box on the servitor's chest. A brief sting and a few moments later the verdict was given - negative. Elevated hereditary cancer risk and other minor genetic flaws not meeting the threshold of mutation, the magos biologis announced before moving on to the next prospective recruit.

Stick with the Night Haunter's gang, his father had said. So Mikulin had apprenticed himself to the Administratum, serving the new Planetary Governor appointed in the Night Haunter's place. One of the first natives to join, they said.

Natives grated in his mind like two ends of a broken bone. We weren't natives before you came, before you took him away. We were ourselves. But things are different now.

The first time he really saw offworlders up close he'd just about managed not to stare, or grimace in the closed-off Nostraman way which, to the initiated, was just as expressive as a scream. Someone has put coins in your eyes, he'd thought irrationally, or broken glass in different colours. It happened sometimes as punishment for people who sold out their gangmates or saw things they shouldn't have.

It took him a long while to accept that it was just how they were, the same way they walked the street wrong, slowly, looking at the sights around them like prey. Behaving like that would get a Nostraman killed but, collectively, there seemed to be an indulgence for offworlders.

They didn't know what the people said or thought about them and they didn't have to care. Often Mikulin found himself hating them, hating their accents and their language at the same time as he learned to mimic both to rise up in their organisation.

The outsiders planned great things for Nostramo in the Imperium. We can make this world so much better, someone with eyes the colour of ice melting into slush told him. Mikulin said nothing.

They built Nostramo Secundus a botanical garden to rival any city in the Imperium. A vast adamantium-ribbed dome of glass filled with a kaleidoscope of verdant colour and shape tended by specialised horticultural servitors, the whole edifice illuminated by numberless ultraviolet and visible-spectrum lamps to allow the plantlife to thrive even on the Sunless World.

On the wall surrounding their creation, where Mikulin had to pass every day to reach the Administratum complex, the offworlders had commissioned some famed remembrancer to paint a mural of a lush, rolling Terran landscape lit by a rising sun and bearing the title LET NOSTRAMO FLOURISH.

The people of Nostramo Secundus hated it and the building it adorned. The cost of entry was high enough to exclude all but the wealthiest and every Nostraman visitor had to wear thick eyeshades or else suffer hours of headache and near-blindness, all just to look at plants. Mystifying.

Mikulin had access to the records of just how much power, water and heat the gardens drew away from the rest of the city. How many hab-tenements could the same resources support instead? He had calculated it once on a scrap of parchment and the answer sickened him.

The Night Haunter would have judged the creation in an instant, razed it to the ground and impaled the builders among the wreckage. Eventually Mikulin came to realise that the gardens were never really intended for him or any other native, only to improve the lot of the offworlders condemned to serve the Imperium on dark forbidding Nostramo.

Once, without thinking, he'd saluted an Administratum superior in the Nostraman way, hand clawed over his heart to say may it be torn out if I am untrue. The condescension and pity in their eyes had struck him like a physical blow.

Damn you all, he thought, eyes stinging with a shame he couldn't begin to process. Take your costume-jewellery eyes and your costume-jewellery Imperium and leave us alone like we always should have been. Our world was already better. We were already better.

Mikulin loved the Night Haunter. Mikulin feared the Night Haunter.

Mikulin grew old slowly, the decay held back by juvenats and technology for as long as the Administratum had the budgetary headroom to provide. Nostramo seemed to rot quickly in comparison. The nobility and oligarchs reappeared with new names and faces but the same blood in their veins, the same corruption in their hearts, and no Night Haunter any more to excise them like a chirurgeon.

He didn't remember exactly when it happened, but one work cycle he realised that the Imperium was no longer the biggest gang on the planet. Work orders, requisitions, suicide statistics, every item of paperwork that used to filter upwards to the Administratum had slowed to a trickle and eventually just stopped.

Mikulin continued to attend the office and the Administratum continued to pay him, but in reality the alternative government of the gangs and nobles had slipped into place like a knife between ribs to quietly usurp both their functions.

Eventually the last offworlders left Secundus. No one would say whether it was voluntary. Their replacements were black-eyed and loyal only to the shifting politics of the warlords they followed. They funnelled the city's sparse resources to pay debts and shore up alliances before the newer, hungrier gangs overthrew them and were consumed in turn by their own children in the incestuous reproductive cycle that was as irredeemably Nostraman as the smog filling up their lungs.

Through it all, Mikulin of the Administratum was present, observed and said nothing. They treated him with something like respect - that rarest of things, an elderly Nostraman.

In the end it was Mikulin who finally closed down the botanical gardens. Let the plants rot and the gangs split the proceeds however they pleased. He left and went back to his tenement, hobbling slowly the same way he did everything else now, and went past that accursed mural once again.

It had been smashed and defaced countless times, the people of Nostramo Secundus giving vent to their fury at the image of an idyllic fantasy they would never possess. The rising sun was blotted out by an arterial splash of black paint and, above it all, someone had scrawled new blood-red lettering to change the painting's title.

LET NOSTRAMO PERISH.

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yeethaslostit · 12 days ago

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oh gods someone found out about Erda from 40k and now I can’t help but think of her as the weird xenophobic grandma to Hunter, here’s my fic about it..

(CONTEXT: this is a part of the MotM arg/AU thing, if ur not familiar with that cluster-fuck Canonically Hunter from TOH is the son to Horus FUCKING Lupercal and also a cyborg so uhhhh here’s a dinner scene for this I guess…)

it had just been two days since Horus found Hunter. They, along with the rest of Horus’s siblings had been invited to a family dinner. Something they both agreed that it be a good idea to introduce Hunter to the rest of the Emperors children. The party was to take place on the shrine world of Tharin-3, an odd place to host a party not to celebrate the God-Emperor, but to host a dinner. Most of the Primarchs thought it was stupid that in the 42nd millennium, people thought of the emperor as a god. The only one who thought it was a great thing was of course Logar. Hunter, didn’t know what to feel about it. The whole Emperor thing hit to close to home when it came to Belos. But even then Belos was never seen as a God. So what made this man so much different?

the room for the dinner was beautiful, statues and murals to The Emperor divine nature. Marble carved gods, scriptures hung in effigy. The table itself was about as fancy as the room. Carved with the most elegant design and the most beautiful imagery. Horus himself although knowing that his father wouldn’t care about Hunters “xenos history” he was much much more worried about his brothers and his mother, Erda. Dorn would be incredibly stubborn about Hunter, Mortarion would not see his character, only his “witch-hood”, Ferrus would be more cold to his past most likely, seeing his inorganic form as “weak”, yet Perturabo and Arch Magos Arcten would see him as a gift from the “omnisia”, something Hunter, still quite uncomfortable about the whole Cyborg thing would despise. And Erda? She would see him most likely as a freak! Or worse she’d see him as someone who needed to be killed. She never liked the Eldar, and unfortunately to Hunter he just so happened to look like one.

Horus’s family started to enter the hall, of course first his father, then Russ, before Gillamen, then Vulkan. Although The Emperor had not seen his new son, he was just as expected, rather pleased. Hunter was so small even in comparison to an Astartes, but to The Emperor? Ha! He was an ant. He had a terrified look on his face, staring at this “god” in front of him. The Master of Mankind spoke: “greetings child. I have heard great things from my son about you. I am pleased to meet you Hunter” Hunter spoke shyly and timidly, his legs trembling almost as though he was expecting some bad: “greetings lo..ord. It’s an honor to be in your presence” “have no fear boy, I am not going to harm you, tell me if you don’t mind, why are you so scared?” Horus looked at Hunter, he was still quite new to his new body, he was quite prone to tripping on himself. But he looked as though he didn’t want to answer, but yet he did.

“he- my uh uncle wasn’t the nicest Emperor or person. It’s just a bad memory is all”

the Emperor replied with a godly amount of patience “very well. I heard he was the one to do, this to you. Please know me and my sons are not here to hurt you at all! Horus had told me great stories about you already and what not to say. When you feel comfortable talking about them, I am all ears.” right as the last words were spoken Leman Russ walked in. He was smaller than his father, but still was quite terrifying to look at. Two Space Wolves followed him in, both looking quite jovial, as though something great was going to happen. Russ spoke, in a sort of intense yet kind manner. As though he was both giving an order yet still joking

“Boy! I see that you seemed to have a great tie to my brother, The Lupercal. And although it was never asked of me to bring a gift to this dinner, I brought you someone to hopefully give you company in these dark times. I had heard of your lost, but if you love for Wolves so Men! Show him!” One of the Marines, simply went behind his back, and grabbed a Fenrisan wolf pup. The thing was tiny, even by mortal standards. But yet looked so happy to be here. Hunters face lit up for the first time in days, he immediately grabbed the pup and cradled it, before it licked his face. Hunter looked so happy and excited. Horus smiled, Russ smiled, the Emperor, trying to keep serious just have a light grin. Horus was nearly on the verge of tears, for once his son looked like a kid his age, not a cybernetic monster. He asked “so what is his name Hunter?” He immediately replied “Ralphus”. The two Marines chuckled such a silly name. Russ was glad he had thought of the idea. Roboute Guilluman was much more grungy the Russ or Horus, he looked almost as if he just walked out of a war zone. His eyes bagged and he was sipping a cup of Recafe. He spoke less proudly “Greetings again brothers, Father! Sorry for my less than optimal appearance, paperwork is more of hell then the Warp!” His face then looked quite inquisitively at Hunter, the boy simply looked up. “I see, you are that child my brother keeps mentioning me on his Vox calls. Greetings I suppose. Say are you an Eldar? Throne I swear if-“ he was cut off by Horus “he’s not an Eldar, he’s a witch in fact.” Guilluman was confused “what do you mean, a witch? That just mean he’s a psker? You have confused me brother. If he is Human, then why does he have those ears?” “It’s what his world referred to it people. Unfortunately that world is quite tainted with Chaos at the moment. Those basterds killed and burned whatever he had, before well turning him into this..” that last word Horus spoke was almost painful to hear, Hunter looked up from his new furry friend. “It’s a long story m’lord. Your brother saved me, although I don’t know if saving is the right word.” “That’s my brother for you Hunter! I didn’t even know you would be coming to tonight’s dinner.” He looked at Horus once more “were we supposed to bring gifts?” “No, it was just a nice thing Russ did to try and cheer him up. “

Vulkan walked in. He was much larger than even Horus, standing nearly eye to eye with his father. He was quite confused on what was happening in this room. Three of his brothers, and his own father stood talking about this child in the middle, he couldn’t see him much. But yet the conversation was rather somber, something Vulkan was much displeased with. “What did I miss? Who is this child we are speaking of?” The Group turned to look at him, letting him get a view of the child, what he saw shocked him. The kid looked like it was a Servitor, his limbs replaced, his body looked so small. He was furious “brothers! Whose child is infront of me and what monster did it to him!” Horus replied “that is my son Hunter. He’s a bit of a rescue. As for why he looks like that he.. uh. His uncle in a sick form of revenge ripped him apart for the gods..” Vulkan was raging, who could do this to a child? What monster could hurt a child like this?! “When I find him, I shall enjoy breaking every bone in his body!” Russ joked “I had never thought I would see my brother this upset over a xeno!” Vulkan look didn’t change “xeno or not, he never deserved this.”

Hours past, more and more of The Primarchs filled the room. Some of them looked a bit confused at the new arrival, some of them just didn’t care. Then came Angron, late as always. He had brought his own child to the dinner. Hunter looked to her, as though he was almost expecting her. “Well, it seems I wasn’t the only one to bring a new member of the family. Very well, everyone this is Sasha! My new daughter!” She looked quite jazzed, as though she was about to enjoy this dinner. “Greetings new family! That is infact me!” The table lit up in laughter. Hunter got up from his seat to greet her. “Oh. I didn’t know he was alive! That’s great! Although what happened to you H?” “Oh ya know! Belos being Belos!” But the emperor sat quite confused, it had been an hour since the dinner officially started, yet Erda was not here. The feast couldn’t start with out her. Yet as soon as Angron and his daughter sat, the door opened once more. It was Erda. She wore a grin, she was quite glad to see her many sons in one room. But yet what brought her more joy was the two kids she had invited herself. “Well, sorry for being late, traffic was horrible. And it seems that my new grand kids could make it!” Sasha was puzzled yet Hunter was quite excited. She first went up to her grandson “well! If it isn’t Hunter Lupercal!” He chuckled nervously “Lupercal? You guys already signed the adoption papers?” “Oh! Your just as funny as your father mister. But unlike him you actually have hair!” The table laughed, Sasha was even more amused. Pointing at the god and giving a good chuckle. She looked quite happy. Knowing as much of his past as Horus. She grazed her hand along his face, before going right for his ear. She was shocked, “an-an ELDAR?! YOU BROUGHT AN ELDAR HORUS?!” “Mother, his no Eldar! He’s a witch! I thought I told you that.” But yet before Erda could reply Magus shouted “he’s not even a witch! He’s something called a Grimwalker! What eve-“ the table turned before he could complete the sentence. Horus looked as though he was about to rip Magnus’s head off and feed it to the wolves of fenris. Hunter shook, simply standing still and terrified. He tried to stammer out words, trying to say that Magnus was lying. But yet nothing would come out. Horus told his mother to get outside the hall and they would discuss this. “so what exactly is a Grimwalker? Or even a witch?” She asked. Horus although still not knowing the full details, simply replied “Witches are his worlds native species. And a Grimwalker is a type of genetic clone. He hasn’t told me the full details yet but it seems whatever past he had was incredibly bad. Please can we not bring this up again?” She shook her head in agreement. She took Hunter to the side, to apologize about what she said

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know grandson.” “it’s fine! You didn’t know any better! “ she tugged on his ear in jest, trying to lighten the mood, yet Hunter batted her hand away, his face terrified. He muttered under his breath “I’m sorry uncle I won’t-“ she whispered “Hunter, you’re not in the past. Your “uncle” isn’t here, I am!”

as she and Hunter went back into the hall. She simply looked at her granddaughter in pride, yet also some sort of dissatisfaction “well, it’s another one of Angron dumpster kids!” The room went silent, they knew one of two outcomes were to happen. Angron did nothing or he did something

“SHE IS NO DUMPSTER CHILD MOTHER!”

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #warhammer shitpost #amphibia #What did I make this?#Hunter Lupercal #Hunter rocking that cyborg drip #Horus Lupercal trying to be a father for ten minutes #Russ just being a chill guy #Angron is still being Angron #Sasha waybright just being herself #Erda not understanding what a witch is #madness of the multiverse #madness arg

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