#lots of astartes tears were shed

[umbral-fantome]

I watched Helsreach.

I am not okay y'all.

[templarhalo]

The Master of Mankind’s return Chapter 3: Reunited (The face you make when your boss’ fourteenth son shows up and beats the crap out of you, your best friend and two of your boss’ sons.)

@sisterofsilence @asklotarasarrin @ask-tribune-ra

The formless wastes were formless.  Constantin Valdor should have expected this considering what the name of this section of the Warp was, but the plainness of the environment was boring.  Apart from the occasional redoubt full of daemons and the battles between Slaneesh and Khorne’s minions in the distance, there was nothing but planes of grey veined with black purplish liquid.

Valdor let a sigh and continued onwards.  Beside him Leman Russ sniffed the air, his Power Axe Helwinter at the ready.

“You seem frustrated Leman.”  Valdor said.

“Aye, our weapons have not tasted maleficarum flesh or drunken traitor blood for quite some time, it makes me impatient whatever trap the enemy has set.”

“Have no fear, we are breaking into the realm of a Chaos God, and there will be no shortage of foes for our blades.”

“I'm just glad there’s a way to bring him back.  If I was still on my lonesome I wouldn't have known the tree of life had been destroyed my Vaerangi would have been killed for nothing and I would have left Bjorn and my sons for nothing.”

If he was being honest, Leman’s frankness on his emotions surprised him considering his somewhat antagonistic relationship with the Captain-General. The two had fought side by side many times, not just when Prospero burned, but during the Rangdan Xenocides and other battles when the Emperor and Arlette graced the sixth legion with their presence.  A good relationship on the battlefield did not always translate to a good relationship off it.  

“You are not the only one who’s left people they care about behind for the sake of duty.”  Valdor said as he scratched his beard.  He would need to shave it soon, at the next available opportunity, even if Jenetia said it looked good on him.

“Yer talking about stepmother right?”  Leman said.

“Not just her, there was a Ligo Aetos named Aella, she assisted Arlette with her duties.  I promised I would be there when she became a member of the Legio.  I do not liking breaking promises.”

“There is something more isn’t it?’  Rogal spoke up.  The seventh son of his King held Leman’s Sword of Balenight in his remaining hand.

“I fear that when we return the Imperium it may be too late.  That the Emperor and everyone we know and loved the species we fought for will be gone or consumed by Chaos, or worse.  That the Imperium we return too will be not the one we swore to protect and were willing to shed blood for.”

Valdor admitted.  Saying those words hurt, but it was like ripping off a bandage.

Rogal sighed.

“You overthink things Captain-General.  If the Imperium is not the one we swore to protect we shall tear it down and rebuild it.  If it still stands and if my father is gone, it does not matter, for his internment on the Golden Throne meant he was no longer with us anyway.  The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men and women to do nothing.  And we are not doing anything.”

Constantin considered the primarchs.

“I forget how eloquent you can be sometimes.”

“Think nothing of it, let us continue, to victory or death.”  Rogal said.

+Blunt as ever+ Jenetia signed.  +But I share your concerns old friend.  +

The four continued for an hour in silence.

Valdor expected Leman to break the silence, but it was not he who was responsible.  It was the sound of wings

The figure was tall as a Contemptor Dreadnought, his armor was the color of sickness, a rotten green that made Valdor’s eyes water.  His face made an ogryn look handsome.  His eyes were a putrid white with no irises.  His lower jar obscured by a rebreather.  What remained of his ugly, corrupted features was obscured by a purple cowl.  Two wings sprouted from his back in a sick mockery of an angel.  They were tattered, brown things with holes so big, the laws of reality would have to be shattered for them to be capable of flight.

“”It has been a long time.”  Mortarion, fourteenth son of the Emperor of Mankind, Primarch of the Death Guard, Daemon Prince of Nurgle greeted.

“By the throne brother, I can't believe I am saying this, but you got uglier.”  Leman said.

“Spare me your jokes brother.  You know why I am here.”  Mortarion rasped.  The Daemon Primarch’s voice set Valdor’s teeth on edge.  It was a raspy slimy tone that no mortal lips could ever produce.  

“Yer here because you’ve become a god’s bitch.”  Leman snarled all traces of his humor forgotten.  

“As blunt as he is, he is right.”  Rogal growled.

“And you are charming as ever brother.”

“You lost the right to call me brother long ago.  You are no longer family.  You are a monster that must be put down like the cur you are.”  Rogal said.  His voice was like the growl of a chainsword.

“Speaking of putting down curs, did you know Horus’ First Captain Abaddon killed your beloved Sigismund?  From what I hear, your beloved Champion died like an old dog.  I must say the new Warmaster granted him mercy.  “Mortarion sneered.

Rogal remained unmoving.  His blues eyes were as cold as his homeworld.

“Tell me, Mortarion that the wounds Nathaniel Garro gave you still throb?  Do they keep you up at night, knowing that for all your boasting and your newfound power, he struck you down?  How did Nurgle feel when you lost not to your father or a primarch in single combat but an Astartes, one of your own sons no less?”  Valdor responded

“I am the Clarion's call!  I am the Tyrant’s fall!”  Those had been the last words of Malcador’s Knight-Errant before he stabbed his father in the heart and banished him.

Mortarion snarled.  “Tell me Captain-General, Nathaniel Garro sacrificed his life, but for all your devotion and skill, why does the Corpse Emperor not walk among his people?  I’m surprised Arlette did not blame you for His death.  You two bickered a lot; did you come to blows in your grief?  Why did she keep you around after you failed the one task you were created for?”

It that moment Valdor’s anger rose to a crescendo.  Mortarion and the other traitors had never seen the outcome of the Siege.  They had fled like the cowards they were.  They had not seen the surviving Ligo Aetos in their huddled masses, many missing broodparents or friends, their innocence and happiness shattered by the destruction wrought on their only home and the death and horrors they had witnessed.   

They had not buried a Custodes who had taken their own life in the dead of night.   

They had not seen the Blood Angels wander aimlessly, stumbling over the corpses of their brothers and sisters, their eyes bloodshot, their hands shaking as they recovered gene-seed, arms and ammunition.

 They had not seen the Imperial Fists in their broken golden yellow armor rebuild the walls and what remained of the Palace, only to stare at the tools in their hands like they had forgotten how to use them.  

They had not seen the White Scars pace like caged animals, grinding their teeth and humming mourning songs from Chogoris.  

And they had not seen Arlette grieve.  They were not there when Valdor and Jenetia had to physically carry her away from His enthroned body to clean her, eat and sleep.

Valdor snarled like a wolf, raised the Apollonian Spear and shot Mortarion in the head.  The daemon’s head snapped back, only to tilt forward as flesh regenerated.

In Mortarion's right hand was the scythe known as Silence, in his left was the baroque shenlongi energy pistol known as Lantern.   

The primarch lunged with a blow that Valdor narrowly dodged,   an inch closer and Valdor’s well known Mohawk and the top of his head would have been sliced off.

Valdor jammed his Spear deep into Mortarion’s chest.  The primarch hissed in pain and Valdor found himself staring down the barrel of Lantern.  Before the Custodian’s head could be disintegrated, the silver blade of Veracity sliced the hand holding the pistol off.  

Mortarion howled in pain, not just from his wound, but from the agony of being in the presence of Jenetia Krole.  .

The daemon took to the air his pistol forgotten.  Leman drew his combi-bolter Scornsplitter and open fire.  Mortarion   swooped down and brought Silence in   descending arc.  Leman holstered his empty firearm and brought the Axe of Helwinter to bear in a two handed grip.  The two weapons met in a clash of fenrisian steel and the corrupted metal.  Sparks flew for a good minute, than Mortarion send Leman flying back in a shroud of green gas and buzzing flies.  Jenetia moved to the Wolf King’s side to dispel the sorcery while Valdor and Rogal lunged at Mortarion.

Mortarion swatted their blows aside and telekinetically pulled his pistol to his hand.  A purple bolt of energy collided with Rogal’s chest.  The primarch roared in pain and buried his sword in the skull of his erstwhile brother.

Before the primarch could lash out with his scythe, Valdor removed Mortarion’s left hand with a stroke of his spear.  He then plunged it in the primarchs heart.  Mortarion laughed.  The daemon primarch was a blur as he slammed his fist into Valdor’s face.  The blow knocked Valdor back. With his freshly regenerated left hand .Mortartrion wrapped his hand around Rogal’s neck and shot in him the chest with Lantern.  He then flicked him aside telekinetically with contemptuous ease.  Mortarion cracked his fingers and a warp portal opened.

Fourteen Deathshroud Terminators emerged, Power Scythes raised.  They uttered no battle cry, but marched in lockstep.  Leman set upon them with his axe and teeth, while Jenetia circled her advancing foes like a lioness, Veracity ready to behead her opponents.

“Kill the pariah.”  Mortarion ordered.  The Deathshroud lumbered forward.

As Mortarion continued his relentless assault, Valdor realized three things.

Mortarion was healing from his injuries as fast as they were inflicted.

      2. Mortarion would never tire due to his connection to the Warp

      3. He was probably going to die before Jenetia and Leman could reach him

All in the span of a minute Valdor processed and accepted this information.  He and Mortarion continued their clash.  Another minute passed.  Than another.     

With a backhand sweep of Silence, the Apollonian Spear was knocked out of his hands.  Valdor calmly drew his Misericordia and lept forward to bury the long dagger into Mortarion’s eye socket.  The primarch staggered back and Valdor lost his grip in the blade.  Before Valdor could react, Mortarion’s struck back,   the scythe’s blade cut deep to Valdor’s torso, a few inches deeper and he would have been cut in half.  He then raked his monstrous weapon across Valdor’s face, destroying his right eye and biting all the way to his skull.  Valdor toppled backwards.  He suddenly felt very cold and very warm at the same time.  His vision became distorted, grey slowly edging across what was once in color.

“I expected better from you.”  Mortarion said as he plucked the dagger out of his eye and tossed it to the ground.

“So did I, So did the Emperor.”  Valdor rasped.

“Don’t make me laugh Valdor.  The Emperor only wanted a weapon.  He never cared about my struggles.  He killed a man who kept me shackled only to put his own pair of shackles on me.”

“The way I remember it, He save you from death.  Did you know that He told me that your betrayal shocked him almost as much as Horus?”

“I can’t imagine why.”  Mortarion scoffed.

“Because you knew what it was like to be weak.  He thought you, out of all his sons would appreciate the strength you were born with, and use it responsibly.”

Mortarion paused.

Out of the corner of Constantin's eye he could make out Jenetia and Leman fighting.  Jenetia stabbed a Deathshroud in the knee, and then pushed Veracity into his throat.  Leman Russ cut a Deathshroud in half from head to groin.  Rogal Dorn, his features a picture of rage and pain smote two of the scythe wielding terminators with a single blow.

Mortarion loomed over him.  In that moment, Valdor felt fear.  Fear that he would die with his duty undone.  He felt the sharp crushing feeling of failure.  It settled on him heavily, although it could be the poisons that Silence was coated in attacking his muscles and nervous system.

  The last thing he saw before unconsciousness took him away was Mortarion raising Silence.

“Goodbye Constantin Valdor.”  Mortarion said softly.  

A barrage of heliothermic bolt rounds obliterated Mortarion’s torso.  The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

A  Custodes strode forward, a black fur shawl d and mourning cloak draped over their golden armor.  In one hand a Lastrum Storm Bolter sang a song of death, in the other, an Adrathic destructor added to the cacophony with a deem thrum!  sound.  The energy beam from the archaic type of weapon the Emperor had taken great pains to ensure only his Custodes and the men and women he favored  left a Deathshroud Terminator naught but ash and  Mortarion’s rotten pus dripping body  was  incinerated, tainted warp matter in the shape of flesh seared like a fresh steak on the grill.  

While the Custodes advanced, Leman and his brother dealt with the remaining Deathshroud,

Jenetia followed, although with only a fraction of her usual speed, her silver armor was stained red from a wound she had taken to the chest.  

Mortarion laughed with a phlegmy rumble.  “Your Captain-General lies dying at my feet.  What make you stand a chance you pathetic husk of gene-tech.  I will kill you and feed your bones to my Nurglings.  Your skull will be used as a grenade to carry Nurgle’s Rot!”

The Custodes responded by tossing a Melta bomb in his face.  The Custodes than mag-locked the Adrathic Destructor to her thigh and began pummeling Mortarion's rapidly restoring features with bolter fire from her Guardian Spear.  The Soulless Queen vaulted over the Custodes Veracity poised to deliver a crushing, two-handed blow,

The last thing Mortarion saw was the Zweihander’s blade splitting his skull, and the rheumy laughter of the god he sold his soul too.  

The witch hunter and adopted daughter of the Emperor landed like a cat.  She sheathed Veracity and stared at the Custodes.  

The Auramite armor Custodes wore did not bear, the conventional insignia used by Space Marines and Imperial Army.  Rank, caste, Shield-Company and Shield Host was indicated by the color of the left shoulder pads, the type of gems embedded in the Custodes armor, the color of thearmor, and the robes and tabards.

Jenetia hid her shock that someone else bore the hidden signs that indicated they were Tribune of the Companions.

+Is Arlette dead?+   Jenetia asked.

“She disappeared twenty years after I became a Custodian. “  The Custodes replied.

+How long have we been gone?  + Jenetia asked.

“Since you and him left?  A little over a century.”  The Custodes said.

Jenetia paused to digest that information.

+I would have the name of the Custodes who took the role once held by the only non-pariah I considered a sister in arms.  +

The Custodes chuckled.

“As you command Knight-Commander Krole.”  They replied.

With a hiss of an unlatched seal the plumed, conical helm was removed.

Beneath the helm was a young women's face.  Her black hair was neck length to make it more comfortable when she wore her helm.  Her skin was the brown of the ethnic group referred to as Kazakh, although slightly lighter due to the Celtic gene-stock the Emperor mixed in when he created this particular Custodes.  She had a strong jawline and angular cheeks.      

Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate, but there was fierceness in them, a defiant, almost stubborn refusal to accept fate and to persevere.  To press onwards whatever the odds.  To hear what people said, nod and tell them to frack off before they beat them to death with their bare hands if that’s what it took to succeed.

Jenetia like the look, in this Custodes it reminded her lot of Arlette and her own Sisters.

“I am Aella Hypatia Enyo , Tribune of the Companions.  Daughter of Shield-Captain  Asclepius Phoebus Reticules of the Hykanatoi Prefect Gaius Alanaus Brennus of the Tharantoi and Primus Medicae Danak Tendai of the Fangs of the Emperor.  And I have been sent by  our King to aid you in your quest.”

   .