Chapters The Fedelitas Lex hurtled through the warp. The screaming souls of the damned reached out with unreal hands, causing the Geller field to flicker and spit desperately. Daemons swam through the sea of emotions that was the hell behind reality, the immaterium, the warp. Within the mighty ship, white faced serfs clenched their fists in nervousness and fear. At any moment, the fields could fail, and their souls would be torn screaming from their bodies by the madness of chaos.
Nightmares seized those that slept, driving them to finding means of keeping themselves awake, anything to avoid the blood soaked visions of the “night”. Time ceased to exist as a concept. What was time in madness? They could emerge from the warp ten millennia in the future, and only a week would have passed for them.
Argel Tal, the broken son, strode through the empty halls of the Lex. The daemon wrapped around his soul slept peacefully. Argel Tal could never rest. He had seen the hell behind reality, and such knowledge had split his soul in half. Now, he was a monster. He had failed and betrayed his brothers, and lost the only mortal he had ever cared for. All he had was a madman with a pain engine in his skull, and the daemon that called his body home. He was forsaken, the only pure Gal Vorbak left within the ranks of the seventeenth legion, the Word Bearers. The rest were all half breeds, barely worthy of the name. He was blessed by the gods, and they were not.
Argel Tal rarely left his chambers. There was nothing worth leaving his chamber for. He was content to sit and meditate. To be left alone in silence, resigned to his fate. He would die at Terra. That was what Raum, the daemon, had told him. He would die beneath the shadow of great wings. He would be felled by the blade of Sanguinius. Did it matter? In the face of the warp, did anything truly matter? All mortals could hope for was to live until death, some entertainment for the laughter of mad gods. Nothing mattered.
Lorgar, primarch and father of the seventeenth legion, had summoned him. Argel Tal was loyal, and would never disobey. Thus, he left his chamber for the first time in weeks, and strode through the halls of the floating fortress. He made his way to Lorgar’s chamber. Lorgar, likewise almost never left his chambers, save for battle. Rather, he would sit and study the warp, learn more about the pantheon and focus upon how the Emperor had betrayed them all. The Emperor, denying the existence of gods in a universe filled with them. Such deceit! Such heresy!
Lorgar’s chamber was circular. Its roof was a clear dome that gave him full view to the madness and glory of the warp. Argel Tal took some time to observe it. It was a sea of faces. Screaming, weeping, laughing in madness, twisted with rage. Hands clawed at the dome, twitching as if in agony. Massive shapes of behemoth daemons, malignant creatures of pure energy prowled the sea of souls. Nightmarish, decayed colors of red and purple danced with a malignant light. To look upon it was to invite madness and sickness. It did not matter to Argel Tal. He was already mad.
Dabbed upon the walls and floors of the chamber were strange an alien symbols of the pantheon. Eight pointed stars seemed to glow with dark energy. The all seeing eye of Tzeentch seemed to follow all movement, boring into the souls of those it alighted upon. The mark of Khorne seemed to radiate hatred and blood thirst. The sigil of Slaneesh seemed to give off pleasure in its barest and most primal, sickening form. Nurgle’s mark gave off the scent of plague and decay. All reeked of madness.
In the center of it all stood Lorgar Aurelian, his head tilted to stare into the warp in all of its insane glory. Lorgar mirrored the Emperor like a statue mirrors the man that it is based on. His golden, patrician features were interlaced with tattooed words and scriptures. Once used to worship the Emperor, who Lorgar had once viewed as a god, the words were now directed in worship to the pantheon. His black eyes were wide open, and he appeared serene. If he were not standing, Argel Tal would think him to be dead.
“Father…?” Argel Tal’s voice echoed unnaturally through the chamber, highlighted with a strange duality that was owed to the daemon.
“Ah, Argel Tal, my son, it is good to see you,” Lorgar sighed before turning to Argel Tal.
“You summoned me father?” Argel Tal cut straight to the chase. His primary voice held confusion, the daemonic undertone only held suspicion.
“Yes, my son, I did. Are you aware of the song of the warp?”
“You have told me much regarding it father, but I have never heard it myself,” Argel Tal blinked. This was not what he had been expecting.
“Ah,” Lorgar breathed softly, “I see. The song of the warp describes the entire existence of the immaterium. Everything has its place, everything must fall into the harmony of chaos. This may seem a contradiction to you, but even in chaos, everything has its place.”
“You have told me such many times, father.”
“Indeed. Every life that ends or is brought into being is part of the music. Every world is part of the choir. There is one world that troubles me. It does not fall into the rhythm. It is too peaceful, too innocent, unlighted. This disturbs the song, renders the choir impotent. For our crusade against the Imperium to succeed, the song must be perfect. This world must be made to sing. There are two ways to bring this about. We can corrupt the world, or we can kill it. Either will work.”
“What do you wish me to do, father?” Argel Tal’s biological voice held obedience, the daemon sounded eager to kill.
“At this point, Argel Tal, I will leave this up to you. We will be pulling out of the warp soon.”
Over a planet known simply as Epona, a portal of sickly red and purple light opened. It bathed the world in a necrotic glow, sickening all who gazed upon. As one, hundreds of the world’s psykers screamed out in agony as the madness of the warp entered their minds. The Fedelitas Lex emerged from this massive tear in the fabric of reality, trailed by the insane laughter of the warp’s denizens.
Lorgar smiled, “Go, Argel Tal, my greatest son. Make the song whole again.”
Arrival
Argel Tal listened to the roaring of the Warhawk Mark IV “Stormbird’s” engines in silence. A thousand miles distant, the Fedelitas Lex was still a mighty sight to behold, a city upon the horizon. A warrior outfitted in warplate of pure white and blue accompanied Argel Tal. Captain Kharn of the World Eaters was the only brother that Argel Tal had not yet failed. He had the honor of being the World Eater’s primarch’s equerry. He had been the only one who had sated Angron’s blood lust, and was held in grudging respect by the gladiator primarch.
Kharn, like all World Eaters had a pain engine imbedded in the back of his head. These pain engines, known colloquially as the butcher’s nails kept him in constant pain. However, it rewarded rage and violence with a strange serenity, pleasure perhaps. This meant that he fought like a madman, caring not for his life, or the life of his comrades. In combat, he only cared for the complete annihilation of his enemies. At this moment, Kharn was clutching his head in agony.
The dropship lurched as it entered the atmosphere, and fire blurred past the windows. Argel Tal maintained his silence, conversing with Raum in his mind. The daemon was one of the few who would actually speak to Argel Tal, and he disclosed knowledge that no mortal had any business knowing. Kharn was in no position or mood to talk. Argel Tal was concerned for Kharn. Recently, he had become more distracted, more prone to wrath. Unlike most World Eaters, Kharn was fully capable of fighting with words. That skill was fading to the butcher’s nails, and it was most concerning.
“Captain Argel Tal, we are nearing the planet’s surface, and will land soon,” the pilot called through the vox.
“Very well,” Argel Tal voxed back.
***
Upon Epona, in a town called Ponyville, ponies stared up at the sky in wonder and awe. A massive, red monster had come from the sky, blazing fire behind it. It roared as it moved, fire spitting from behind it. It was marked with a leering demon upon the sides, and had a flat front, looking not unlike the fortifications of a castle. From its back sprouted a strange bank of four cylinders, and cones were placed under its wings. The sun glinted from it, and it became obvious that it was made of a metal of some sort.
The creature extended legs from its flat belly, landing in the middle of the town square. It crushed the statue of Celestia with a deep thunking noise. It sat there for some time, and some of the town’s braver occupants approached it hesitantly. One even dared to touch it with a hoof, the impacts echoing throughout the creature. The ponies decided that it was not an animal, but a machine. Was this machine somehow associated with the fits of agony that the unicorns were experiencing?
Twilight Sparkle approached the macine, having overcome the fits that had taken her earlier. What was this machine that could fly without the use of flapping wings? It must have taken strong magic to have even made the thing fly. She flinched back as the sound of hissing air escaped from the machine. A ramp slowly lowered, revealing two massive forms.
They were bipedal and stood at around eight feet tall, easily dwarfing the ponies. The first one was white and blue, and had eyes of glowing crimson. The eyes reminded her of blood, much to her horror. Upon its waist was an axe that had a blade of serrated teeth. This caused her to gulp violently as she considered to what damage it could cause. She looked at the second one. This one was red, and had glacial blue eyes that spoke of cold indifference. Upon its back were a golden sword and spear. The spear was tipped with a strange box that terminated in a cylinder. Neither had manes, nor did they blink.
They both stepped forwards, their feet causing the earth to shake. She gingerly trotted forward to meet them. She raised her hoof in what she hoped they would take as a greeting.
“Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle! Do you understand me?”
“Xenos!” The white and blue one spat, causing Twilight to flinch, “What kind of world is this?”
“Peace, Kharn,” the second one spoke, its voice strangely split between a clear tone and a harsh growl, “The primarch has sent us, and we know what is required.”
Twilight blinked, and repeated her statement.
“I heard you the first time, xenos. You were not required to repeat yourself,” the red one spoke. Although his voice was low, the harsh undertone raised the fur on Twilight’s back, unnerving her more than anything she had heard before.
There was an uncomfortable silence before Twilight cleared her throat.
“Are you going to introduce yourselves?”
The red one spoke, “I am Captain Argel Tal, of the Vakrah Jal, or as it is known in your tongue, the Chapter of the Consecrated Iron, of the Seventeenth Legion Astartes Word Bearers. My companion is Centurion Kharn of the Eighth Assault Company of the Twelfth Legion Astartes World Eaters.”
Twilight knew military ranks when she heard them. She had never heard any of those names before in her life. She had dozens of books on the different species that populate Epona, and these creatures didn’t match the description of any. Was it possible that these were aliens? Why did they have such strange names, and why did they sound so menacing? "Word Bearers," "World Eaters", these names sounded more like the names that came out of horror stories.
“What are you?” she asked.
“We are Adeptus Astartes, Space Marines. We were originally Human.”
Unfortunately, Pinkie Pie chose precisely this moment to “attack” the “Space Marines”. She jumped up to the red one, coming face to face with him. She was shrieking something about throwing a party as she did so. What happened next was almost too fast for Twilight to track.
There was the sound of screeching metal, and a pair of leathery wings sprouted from the red one’s back. The arms extended, and formed claws twice as large as his hands had been. The face opened to reveal a massive, ravening maw. A ridge of spines sprouted from his head, and his eyes narrowed into slits. He reached out wrapping his hand around the entirety of Pinkie’s form, leaving only her head exposed. It was obvious that he was preparing to crush her in his fist.
“Stop!” Twilight screamed in panic.
To her surprise, Argel Tal ceased his attack. He turned his glacial eyes to face her, and Twilight felt a shudder travel down her spine as she felt the malice radiating from his form. The slitted eyes seemed to bore into her soul, and their glacial blue glow seemed to give a sense of boredom.
“Speak,” the harsh undertone now took precedence, causing Twilight to wish that she could shield her ears.
“Pinkie Pie does not mean any harm, she just wants to welcome you! Please, put her down.”
The response came in a snarl, the harsh tonality making it sound like a roar. To Twilight’s relief, he dropped Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie Pie’s hair straightened, and she began to crawl back, silent for what was likely the first time in her life. Fear was apparent in her demeanor, and tears were welling in her eyes. The daemon’s voice halted her.
“Do not do that again, xenos.”
Pinkie Pie nodded hastily, her normally bubbly responses buried by terror.
Kharn suddenly laughed, his booming voice causing all ponies present to flinch.
“Damn it, Argel Tal, that was the fastest the change has ever been!”
Fluttershy leapt up before Kharn, rage coloring her normally meek features. She fixed his red “eyes” with a monstrous, intimidating stare. It had always forced animals into obedience, and may have even worked on an ordinary human. Kharn, was not an ordinary human. He had been genetically engineered to be superior in every way to a human being, especially in the will. He stared back through his eye lenses.
“You!” Fluttershy exclaimed firmly, “How dare you! Your companion hurts my friend, and all you can do is laugh! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Violence is not welcome here!”
Kharn snorted in response, but Fluttershy had already turned from him to berate Argel Tal.
“You have no right to hurt my friends, you meanie! I have a mind to tell your mother, so you best watch your step buster! Now apologize!”
Argel Tal’s glacial eyes remained fixed on Fluttershy’s, though not in fear. Instead, Fluttershy felt a slow, creeping malice radiating from that empty, icy gaze. The fact that it was through a helmet did not cushion the sensation of wrongness. That his helmet had a slathering maw did not help. Fluttershy became increasingly uncomfortable. Her wings locked from the creeping terror, and she hid behind her mane.
“Then tell my mother, xenos. She lies two hundred years dead within the grave. Speak with her, tell her that her son has seen the hell behind reality and has two souls. Tell her that he is the broken leader of a broken chapter of a broken legion. Speak to her soul that hurtles screaming in terror and eternal agony through the immaterium. Then I will apologize.”
Fluttershy took several steps back, whimpering as she did so. The harsh undertone now completely drowned out Argel Tal’s normal voice. It sounded like a knife grating upon bones, and resonated with nightmarish power that no human deserved to posses. The glacial, slitted eyes seemed to hold her gaze, forcing her to stare into them. She tried tearing her eyes from them, and could not. So this was what the stare felt like. Fluttershy knew that she would not bring herself to use it again. Argel Tal reverted to his normal form, and the spell was broken. Fluttershy scampered away, fear overriding conscious thought.
Once again, the ponies ceased to speak. They had never seen one resist the stare, never mind turn it against its wielder. Some began to edge away from him and Kharn, worried that he would turn upon them. Kharn had begun twitching, the butchers nails biting into his brain. He had an almost unmanageable desire to kill. Argel Tal knew better than to ask him if he was alright. Kharn was never alright. He would always be in pain, and he would always find solace in blood. He was a perfect tool for the blood god.
He once again regarded Twilight Sparkle. She had a purple coat that reminded him of the Emperor’s Children. Her mane was a dark blue tone, with a pink and crimson stripe running through it. Argel Tal was briefly reminded of Slaaneshi cultists. They would dye themselves in strange colors. However, his heads up display stated that her coloration was achieved naturally. Her horn, he noticed, had been lighted.
“I can taste the warp coming off of her, she is a psyker,” Raum hissed.
“She looks like one of the unicornii of old Terran mythology. These xenos seems to share much in common with humanity.”
“All the easier to enlighten them.”
Argel Tal took a step towards Twilight, causing her to step back. It was obvious from her eyes, which were much to wide for her head, that she did not wish for there to be hostility. Whether or not this was caused by self preservation, or some kind of moral code was not obvious. It was obvious, though, that she was afraid. Argel Tal had demonstrated his connection to the warp, and Raum had revealed himself through the change. This was maddening to the strongest of mortals, and he imagined that it was no different to the miniscule purple xenos.
Argel Tal reached up to his helmet, pressing the depressurization rune. There was a hiss of air, causing all the xenos to flinch. He slowly began to remove his helmet, noting the pain that now came with the action. Recently, he had been finding it harder to remove his helmet as his body was twisted and mutated by the demon that resided inside. The xenos tensed. Argel Tal had to resist the urge to laugh. They made it seem oh so dramatic. Perhaps they were afraid of what they would see after the ravening beast that was the daemon.
They all visibly relaxed as they saw his face. Their faces did look like human faces after all. Argel Tal could be considered handsome by human standards. He had dark hair and skin. This was owed to his home world of Colchis, which was a desert world. His features were patrician, mirroring Lorgar’s features as Lorgar’s features mirrored the Emperor. His face was surprisingly unscarred. Perhaps the daemon had restored it. Perhaps it simply was that the pantheon smiled upon him.
The glow around Twilight Sparkle’s horn had faded, and she now studied his features with intent. She came across to him as a scholar. Curiosity and a thirst for knowledge governed her. He had seen similar expressions from both Erebus and Lorgar. The latter was much more honest than the former, however. Erebus spoke in riddles. Lorgar did not.
“You are a psyker,” It was not a question. Argel Tal’s voice had returned to normal, a balance between the natural and the daemonic.
Twilight had been scribbling on a piece of paper with telekinesis. She looked up at the statement.
“What do you mean? You mean my magic?”
Argel Tal snorted, “Magic. What a fanciful concept, born in the minds of fools ignorant to the hell behind reality.”
“Magic is not fanciful! It is a proven scientific fact!”
“It is not, xenos. Magic is a concept created to explain what is impossible to explain. No explanation will ever be accurate. One must see for himself to know the truth. Even then, it is impossible to understand, too terrible is the primordial truth.”
“…wait, what? What are you talking about…?” Twilight noticed that a strange, silvery liquid that was not unlike mercury had covered Argel Tal’s eyes. His voice was once again unbalanced.
“I am speaking of the immaterium, mortal. You may call it many things, as we have. Among its names are sheol, hell, tartarus, hades, the underworld. That is the truth behind all things.”
Twilight’s answer was cut off by the sound of screaming in the distance. A Rainbow color blur shot over head, brining Rainbow Dash into view. She fixed the two Space Marines with an incredulous gaze before turning to Twilight and whispering into her ear.
Twilight cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly dry, “There is a hydra coming through the town, and we must evacuate.”
The ponies began screaming and milling about. Argel Tal chuckled as he replaced his helm.
“Come, Kharn, the blood god cares not from whence the blood flows, only that it flows.”
Kharn could only grunt in response, his head in agony as the nails screamed for blood and skulls.
The hydra was an ugly bastard. It had four heads, each with slavering jaws and beady eyes. Its necks were long, and moved independently. It had two stumpy legs, each with three toes that terminated in claws. Spines ran along the tail all the way up the back and necks. This massive creature towered above the forests, almost like a titan. Argel Tal had seen worse. Being in the warp showed you many things.
He thought back to his brother Xaphen, who had been a chaplain of the Serrated Suns chapter. He always entered battle chanting. What did he chant? What made the pantheon smile upon him? Argel Tal smiled bitterly. The pantheon hadn’t been smiling upon him when he died at the hands of the Adeptus Custodes. But, for over fifty years, Xaphen had been successful in his zealotry. Argel Tal wished to remember him.
The sound of rending metal filled the air as he underwent the change. He drew the sword, the weight of the blade familiar within his hand. This blade had been used to kill Cyrene, the only mortal he had cared about. He activated the blade, light coursing through it. He removed the guardian spear. With it, Xaphen had been killed. Both served to remind him of his failure, and were tools of his vengeance.
“From the fires of betrayal unto the blood of revenge we bring the name of Lorgar, the Bearer of the Word, the favored Son of Chaos, all praise be given to him,” Argel Tal chanted from the Book of Lorgar, “From those that would not heed we offer praise to those who do, that they might turn their gaze our way and gift us with the boon of pain, to turn the Galaxy red with the blood, and feed the hunger of the gods.”
All present felt a chilling fear traveling down the spines as they heard the blasphemous words of chaos. They felt the madness behind the words, the sheer malice. They covered their ears to hide themselves from it, to no avail. The words assaulted them, whether they heard them or not. The hydra paused.
Beside him, Kharn had removed his axe. He activated the blade, the teeth whirring. The axe screamed its blood thirst, the mean, cruel machine spirit baying for blood. The butcher’s nails relaxed their hold slightly, hearing the baying howl. Kharn snarled as he fought the hold of the nails.
The hydra roared with its four heads. It was a roar that brought fear into the heart of mortals. It was a roar that intimidated most beasts of the Everfree Forest. The hydra expected the two figures before it to run in fear. It had made a mistake. Kharn and Argel Tal were neither mortal, nor were they beasts of the Everfree. One was a ravening berserker who took pleasure in war. One was a broken man with a daemon wrapped around his soul. Both were of the Legionnes Astartes.
Kharn roared in response, and Argel Tal continued his ethereal chant. Kharn charged first, finally giving in to the nails. The hydra threw one of its heads forward, attempting to bite Kharn in half. It was a great folly as Kharn brought the whirring teeth of his chain-axe upon the hydra’s head. The hydra screamed in agony as the spinning teeth chewed through its head. The head became silent as the teeth reached the brain, churning it in the skull. The grey matter of the brain leaked out from the rend. Crimson ichor decorated the ground. Kharn laughed. Bringing his axe up once more, Kharn decapitated that neck completely, sending blood spurting madly.
Two more heads sprang up. This time, two heads shot out to attack Kharn. One he pounded to mulch with his fist, coating his white gauntlet with crimson fluid. The second head raced for his own. It bit him on the pauldron, expecting it to shatter with ease. Instead, it felt its teeth shatter and intense agony as the shards were driven through its gums. Blood flowed from the creature’s mouth, and it recoiled. Argel Tal strode calmly up to the head, and pushed his sword cleanly through it. The power field melted the flesh like butter, boiling the brain.
At this point, the ponies had come out to see the violence that was unfolding. Several wretched at the sight of blood, and parents hid their children’s eyes. A certain white unicorn fainted in an over-dramatic fashion, drawing the rolling of eyes from her friends. Fluttershy, being a keeper of animals hid herself behind the crowed, weeping quietly at the carnage.
Once again the heads regenerated. Kharn was now overcome completely by the berserk fury, slashing wildly at the hydra with little regard for his life or the life of others. The hydra responded by driving its tail into him, cracking his chest piece slightly. Argel Tal quickly amputated the tale, the tree sized limp twitching as it bled upon the ground. Argel Tal followed up by driving his guardian spear into the creatures stomach. The spear punched through the stomach. Guardian spears were tipped with bolters, to make them more effective. Argel Tal pulled the trigger on his.
There was a thunderous roar as a single bolt round was propelled down the barrel. This singular mass-reactive high explosive round vacated the barrel. As it left, an internal solid fuel booster flared, propelling it at even greater speed. It went past the bleeding rent in the hydra’s stomach, meeting the soft, fleshy organs. The bullet’s machine spirit recognized contact with a solid object, and detonated a high explosive charge. This charge shattered bone, sending them through the creature’s body like shrapnel, and pulped organs. The stomach exploded, the spleen was split, and the lungs compressed. Blood spurted from the massive hole in rhythm with the beat of the hydra’s heart. This less than a second.
Argel Tal withdrew the guardian spear. Despite the massive, agonizing wound in its stomach, the hydra continued to fight. It propelled several of its heads towards Argel Tal, aiming to decapitate him in a bite. Argel Tal ran his blade through the first head, coating his blade with blood. He rolled under the second, removing it as he did so. The third head he pinned to the ground. He crushed it beneath his heal, listening in satisfaction to the crunch of bone and squelching of the brain. Copper permeated the air, penetrating even the filters of Argel Tal’s helmet.
He growled in frustration as each of the heads grew back in double. A dozen heads launched themselves at him. The hydra licked its collective lips in anticipation of the kill. There was no way this creature could avoid its own demise. Argel Tal stared at the creature. He suddenly shouted in a language that grated upon the ears of all. This language radiated power and rage. Most of all, it radiated the warp, madness. The hydra froze as the words made themselves known. It laid down its heads before Argel Tal. He decapitated each one by one, before finally driving his blade through its heart. The hydra died in silence.
Argel Tal strode to Kharn’s side. The World Eater’s pristine white armor was stained crimson.
“You should repaint your armor red, Kharn,” Argel Tal joked as he offered his hand.
Of Whispered Converstions
Ponies scattered as they saw Kharn and Argel Tal approaching, drenched in blood like the demigods of war that they were. Argel Tal had reverted his form, though this did not make him less intimidating. Kharn, the effects of the butcher’s nails having worn off was once again struck with a skull splitting headache. Fear permeated the air as the citizens of Ponyville saw what was left of the hydra. Many were clearly sickened by the organs and blood that slicked the ground. Others had entered into states of catatonia, having never seen anything more than a cut before in their lives. That it was an apex predator that the two space marines had killed did nothing to lighten the mood.
Argel Tal was divided. For as long as he had remembered, he had slaughtered xenos for the crime of being non-human. This however, was because of the Emperor’s doctrine of human superiority. This same Emperor had lied to his sons and his subjects. Argel Tal owed no loyalty to the Emperor, and thus owed no loyalty to his doctrines. However, at the same time, xenos were not human. What was not human was a threat by its very nature, and would seek to over throw man’s birthright: The Galaxy. Furthermore, these xenos were not part of their crusade against the Emperor. What was not affiliated with them was an enemy. Indoctrinate or kill? Kill or indoctrinate? Such choices were those that made up Argel Tal’s meat and wine.
What would Cyrene have done? Argel Tal had known her for half a century after saving her from the shattered ruins of Monarchia. She had been blinded by the Ultramarines’ weapons, and sought help from the legion that had knelt in shame before the Emperor. Cyrene had been kind, merciful. She was the confessor of the word, absolving the sins of the legion. It had been claimed that she had even absolve Lorgar himself. The Most Blessed Son of Chaos had knelt before her, wept for her, begged for her forgiveness in failing her. What would she have done with the xenos?
“You dwell upon her too much.” Raum’s voice slid through Argel Tal’s mind.
“She was the only mortal I ever cared for, Raum, and I failed her.”
“There is nothing you can do, let her go. It is pointless to dwell on the dead.”
“Is she being tortured? Is she in pain?”
“…No.”
“Liar.”
Argel Tal would spare the xenos, if only to state his separation from the Imperium that had betrayed him. These xenos would be made to sing in their corruption. Argel Tal neared a tree close to the center of the village. It was hollowed out, he saw, and lights glowed from windows. He heard whispered voices through the tree. His Lyman’s Ear made certain that he heard everything clearly.
“Ah don’t trust ‘em Twi. They land here all willy nilly, and start beating up on Pinkie and nearly scare the living daylights out of Fluttershy!”
“Yes, but they just saved Ponyville from a hydra! Surely that makes them good, right?”
“Did you hear what the red one said before killing the hydra, about the fires of betrayal and the blood of vengeance? How could anypony who says stuff like that be good?”
“…Well, that could just be their religion.”
“Religion shmigion! They’re obviously evil.”
“And they have a horrible sense of fashion! I mean, where is the elegance in their armor?”
“…”
“We should just kick their flanks to Canterlot, and get Celestia to banish them to the moon.”
Argel Tal snorted. He sensed a great deal of ego in that final voice. He didn’t need to be a psyker to know that. He strode to the door, and open it roughly, nearly tearing it from its hinges. The door was made for creatures four feet shorter than he was, requiring him to almost kneel to enter. The interior was much larger, and Argel Tal could almost stand up straight. Within, he saw six startled ponies. He recognized three of them as Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. The other three he did not know.
Twilight grinned widely at him, and Argel Tal was briefly reminded of an animal looking hopefully up at him, eyes pleading for him not to kill it. He had been faced with such a scenario when he was a neophyte. He had no qualms of killing the animal. There was rainbow colored blur as a cyan colored pegasus shot up to reach his eye level. It tried to glare him down. He fixed it with a glacial stare as it spoke.
“Were you eavesdropping on us?” it snapped. He recognized the voice as the last one, full of ego.
“So, you wish to banish us to the moon, do you?” Argel Tal hissed, his blue eye lenses giving nothing away. The cyan pegasus gulped and landed, looking almost like Fluttershy…or a whipped dog.
Fear was a natural reaction. It was expected, sometimes even demanded. The Emperor had created his troops to bring fear to his enemies, and awe to his subjects. Awe was simply a form of fear, a mixture of wonderment and dread. This was how the Emperor gained and maintained his power. But when this source of fear turned against its creator, what then? When it fought against itself, what was the result? Death. Death would always be the result, an eternity of war.
“Who is this Princess Celestia you speak of?”
“S-she’s my mentor…the ruler of Equestria. She raises the sun…” Twilight stammered.
“So she is your god?” Argel Tal queried.
Twilight nodded reluctantly.
Argel Tal threw his head back and laughed, the daemonic undertone making it sound far more menacing than it would have sounded were he a normal human being. The ponies flinched at the grating noise, before glancing at each other in puzzlement. What was the source of his mirth.
“You think a mere physical being to be a god?” Argel Tal snorted, “I followed that path of foolishness once, before I saw the hell behind reality. Such foolishness! We all dance to the laughter of the pantheon.”
“What is the pantheon?” Twilight asked, "You talk about them and the hell behind reality."
She felt that she would regret her curiosity.
Argel Tal remained standing, his helmet removed. The seats were far too small for him, and sitting on the floor was demeaning. It was pleasant to see the world without the taint of his helmet lenses, to say the least. He kept his weapons close at hand. Not because he feared for his safety-he could kill any threat with his bare hands, after all-but because he did not want anything other than him touching the weapons that deprived him of those closest to him.
The ponies had been expecting a longwinded monologue on how Argel Tal’s religion was superior. Then, Twilight would tell him why he was wrong in the most gentle way possible. After all, that was how everything worked, right? He had insulted Princess Celestia, claiming she wasn’t a deity, the nerve! Argel Tal started with a question.
“Where does magic come from?” His primary voice was neutral, his daemonic voice was mocking.
Twilight, ever the academic answered, “Magic is in all things. It surrounds us, and all ponies can draw from it. Magic is the result of the first Princess, our supreme deity. She ascended to a higher level in her pursuit of knowledge and gifted us with it. Magic is the light that illuminates all things. Without it, we would die. Magic is not evil as you have said before.”
Argel Tal laughed. It was the furthest from warmth that one could get. The harsh undertone did not help. It sounded like the grating of bones against each other; the screams of a thousand souls each dying in various agonizing ways, hurtling through the warp, daemons feasting upon them for eternity. Of course, the ponies didn’t use that exact description. Just as well, Princess Celestia would be disappointed by that somewhat sadistic comparison.
Twilight was annoyed by what she assumed-correctly-was mockery.
“What is so funny?” She snapped.
“You truly believe that? You truly believe that this so called ‘magic’ is the light of all things? No. Magic comes from the immaterium. Or, as it is more commonly known, the Warp. ‘What is the Warp?’ you ask. The Warp is the truth, the dimension behind it all. It is a dimension of psychic energy. All death, hatred, hedonism, disease, rage and scheming empower it and stem from it. Within the Warp dwell four ‘gods’, for lack of a better word. They sit back, and watch all of our wars, murders and debaucheries, and they laugh.”
“How horrible!” gasped the white Unicorn identified as “Rarity”, “How could you believe in something like that?”
“This is beyond mere believing. This is truth.”
“Go on,” Twilight urged.
“The Warp is Chaos manifest,” Argel Tal stated simply.
The ponies tensed at that, thoughts of Discord coming to mind. Was Discord in some way affiliated to this so called immaterium if it truly existed. That, naturally, led to another issue. How did they know that Argel Tal was telling truth? It was possible that he had been brainwashed to believe something so…off. Then how did they explain the transformation that had turned him into a ravening beast.
“How do we know you are telling the truth?” Twilight asked, hoping that he would admit that it was all a lie, and that his transformation was a result of strange magic. If what he said was true, then everything she had believed in was a lie.
“Why do you think I have a daemon wrapped around my soul, xenos?” Argel Tal snarled.
***
Dear Princess Celestia,
We have received two very odd visitors. They are aliens from space. Both are obviously from a military foundation of some sort, based upon their armor and weapons. Both are eight feet tall, and are bipedal. They have hands, which they use to manipulate their technology, which is extremely advanced. They killed a hydra earlier today, something that many find to be disturbing. Killing, after all, is wrong.
The first one is named Argel Tal, which he claims means “Last Angel” in his language. He belongs to a so called Seventeenth Legion, or as they are more commonly known, “Word Bearers”. The second is named Kharn. I haven’t really talked to him. He is a berserker and is probably nuts. He belongs to the Twelfth Legion, the “World Eaters”, a disturbing name to say the least. Both are officers. They deny the existence of magic, and worship a so called “Pantheon” of dark gods who rule from an alternate dimension called “The Warp”. They claim that all magic stems from the warp, and that it is Chaos manifest. Argel Tal claims to have two souls, and can transform into a…monster.
I think it may be best if you came here, just to see them. They are beginning to make everypony very nervous. Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle
Author's Note
Sorry that the chapter isn't that good. I have had a busy schedule and damn near lobotomized myself. Worry not. Better will come soon.
Equestria, in the scheme of things, was a very unnatural place. It may have lacked the insanity of the warp or the cold metallic surfaces of a human construct, but it was more than made up for by magical domination. Everything in Equestria was controlled through magic, even the sun. Equally important, but on a smaller scale, were the plants, animals and weather, also controlled by ponies. This put things in a very unusual position. Ponies were by no means militarily or economically powerful, yet they were the dominating species of the planet. Who could compete with a species that could stop their crops from growing and the sun from rising? The other species had always resented this, Griffons specifically.
This position was actually due to Equestria’s large number of psykers. No other species on the planet had the unique ability to use their minds as tools. Ponies were excellent warp conduits. However, this also meant that ponies were more susceptible to possession and insanity. In several different realities, Twilight Sparkle went insane and became omnicidal maniac under the encouragement of a Greater Daemon of Khorne. In three of these realities, she managed to exterminate all life on Epona thanks to her warp enhanced abilities. That, however, is a different story.
***
Celestia was in the process of lowering the sun when Twilight’s letter arrived in a corona of green flame. Seizing it in her golden magical aura, Celestia scanned the letter once, assuming that it was a friendship report. It quickly became apparent that it was not. She read the letter again, the words beginning to sink in. Aliens were in Equestria. They had killed a hydra. Almost immediately she was out the palace door and sitting in her chariot. A quick order to the four pegasi guardsponies responsible for her transportation and safe keeping, and she was heading towards Ponyville. This was exactly what she needed.
Despite the advantage the ponies’ possessed, they were not in lack of conflict. They were most commonly fighting the expansionist Griffons. The Griffons thought of the ponies as weak and soft, cowering behind their ruler for protection. They thought of Celestia herself as unnatural at best, an abomination at worst. It was no surprise, then, that the Griffons had attempted to exterminate the ponies twice in the past. Both times, Celestia had defeated them, but could not bring herself to destroy them.
In the thousand years since the Nightmare Wars, the Royal Guard had become weak. Muscles that are not used become atrophied. This analogy could be applied to the Equestrian Military. A thousand years of peace could make an army more ceremonial than useful. The Griffons were as strong as ever. Celestia could use the sun to threaten them, but that didn’t always work. If she were to be killed, the sun would return to its natural orbital pattern. If the Griffons exterminated the Ponies, they would reap far more in terms of benefits than it was for them to lose. They would become the dominant species of Epona.
The arrival of the aliens was timely. They were obviously fighters based on Twilight’s description. They were technologically advanced. Two had arrived. There were likely several more in orbit over her planet. They could be a threat, but Equestria was likely doomed either way. The minontaurs would invariably join with the griffons, the changelings as well. Zebras, as always, would remain neutral.
The aliens could help, assuming that they did not kill them first.
***
The HUD of Argel Tal’s armor immediately locked onto the incoming object, listing it as unidentified, and a potential threat. All Space Marines had modified eyes, and Argel Tal was no different. Even from a distance where most naked eyes were unable to make out the silhouette, Argel Tal could see it clearly. Zooming in with his helmet, he saw the sole occupant of the flying chariot. This had to be “Princess Celestia”.
She had both wings and horn. Her horn was longer than the other pony species’ and looked capable of inflicting injury on a normal human. Argel Tal had no doubt that ceramite could stop it, especially the biological form of his armor when Raum took hold. She wore golden regalia that would make the average Slaaneshi cultist weep with joy, the poor bastards. Her mane flowed on its own, against the wing. Argel Tal could taste the warp influence that flowed through her. He had only felt such power when he was in the Eye of Terror.
Kharn stared at Celestia through his eye lenses, his helmet giving an almost predatory aspect to his form. It was fitting, really. Kharn was like a predator. He roared like a predator, he killed like a predator, he hunted like a predator. But, outside of combat he was continuously calm and calculating, to Primarch Angron’s benefit. He was one of the only World Eaters who saw anything of worth outside of killing.
The chariot landed in a puff of dirt. Celestia trotted out gracefully, her wings outstretched in an attempt to impress. It was only successful for her subjects. Argel Tal and Kharn had been around the Primarchs constantly. Celestia did not even come close to the glory of Lorgar or the force of Angron. No one could, besides another Primarch, or the Emperor.
“Greetings, visitors, and welcome to our world,” Celestia’s voice was smooth and firm, “I am Princess Celestia Solaria Maxima of the Kingdom of Equestria.”
“I am Captain Argel Tal of the Vakrah Jal, of the Seventeenth Legion Word Bearers. At this point, I speak with the authority of Primarch Lorgar Aurelian,” The daemonic undertone sounded uncharacteristically emotionless.
“I am Centurion Kharn of the Eighth Assault of Company of the Twelfth Legion World Eaters,” Kharn was in the process of suppressing a twitching fit, thanks to the Butcher’s Nails.
The Imperium. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad place. In fact, it would have been a utopia if it had not been for the Emperor’s lies. The Imperium had seemed perfect in every way, shape and form. Mankind was finally taking his place among the stars. It was a great tragedy that the Emperor had betrayed them all, then. The Imperium would have to fall for it to be perfect. The Emperor was a fool.
But so was Horus Lupercal. Did he honestly believe that the pantheon would really care about the petty empires and conflicts of man? Did he truly think that they supported him for his own sake? This was all about their vengeance against the anathema. The Emperor. They had given him the power to create the Primarchs, and he had not given them the thanks they deserved. By all regards, the Emperor was a heretic, a traitor to man. However, Horus was no better.
Horus sought to be a second Emperor, better than his father. He wished to dominate the galaxy. He claimed that it was for the good of humanity. That was a lie. Mankind’s first thought is always for himself, and Horus was no different, never would be. The Primarchs were better than humanity, but they were also weaker. They fell to petty quarrels and hatreds, and were so deeply divided among themselves.
Throughout history, brother had always turned upon brother, son upon father. History was doomed to repeat itself for all eternity until the stars burned out, and all things died. This was not restricted to humans, truthfully. It applied to every species that existed and ever would exist. In the end, they were flawed, and they would all die. It was inevitable. It was a sobering thought, perhaps even terrifying. But it was the truth. The truth could not be denied.
It was an invariable fact of existence that there would be war upon Epona. The ponies were abject pacifists, not yet corrupted by the power that beckoned to them. Though they did not fight among themselves however, they would always fight others. They were surrounded by other species who wished to kill and annihilate them.
Lorgar swore that through their trial of fire, they would see the primordial truth. If they did not, he would slay them himself. They were destroying the song, and the song would be made whole. The deaths they would bring or the deaths of themselves were the only things that would make the song right. The song had to be made right. At what cost? At any cost. It was for the truth.
The ponies remained painfully oblivious to the war that spiraled in the heavens above them. They were unaware of the billions who were dying now at this moment. People, consumed in the flame of the warp, screaming as daemons tore at their souls. That was the song, and it was good. The song, played with such passion was the only thing that Lorgar could fix his eyes upon. His father was dead to him, and the man he though a god merely a shattered idol at his feet.
Lorgar was aware that he was likely insane in the eyes of others. What was insanity? What was truly insanity? Was it going against social norms, violating what people thought was right? Was it to be an amoral killer, delighting in one’s work? Was it to betray your own species? Insanity, Lorgar supposed, was simply a matter of perspective. Nevertheless, where did one draw the line? At the truth, naturally. That was where the line always had to be drawn. The truth was of paramount importance. Nothing else mattered.
The song would be complete.
***
Celestia had offered Argel Tal and Kharn a ride in her chariot to the capital city of Equestria, Canterlot. This offer was hardly logical. A Space Marine alone would be impossible to lift, never mind two in full battle plate with full load outs. The concept would have been laughable for a mortal. Argel Tal and Kharn took it all in stride. A Stormbird was dispatched from the Lex, and within moments, they were streaking after the Chariot.
Argel Tal stared over the windows as the Stormbird approached a castle built into the side of a mountain. It would have been an amazing feat of engineering had humanity still been a medieval society. Things like this were seen everyday throughout the Imperium. This had great grandeur, though. Its grandeur was even impressive. Stained glass windows peaked out of buildings, the sun glittered off of marble. Argel Tal was briefly reminded of the temples on Colchis, or the glorious city of Monarchia. At that thought, Argel Tal clenched his eyes. His failure to save Cyrene burned bright in his mind.
Ponies stared up at the crimson behemoth that roared over their city. The nobility even dropped their act of superiority to gaze in awe at the massive construct. Awe quickly became fear, for awe is only an inch and a half away from fear. What was this beast, and what did it want? Why was it chasing the Princess’s chariot? Alarms were sounded, and the Royal Guard were gathered.
When the Stormbird landed, and the hatch was lowered, Argel Tal and Kharn emerged to a wall of spears. To their disgust, they noticed that they were primitive wooden weapons, easily destroyed and inferior. The ponies that stood before them were clad in gold, much like the Custodians. Argel Tal was certain that their armor was not very strong, however. Easily twisted and annihilated. He grabbed one in amethyst armor by the throat.
“You dare?” He roared, his daemonic voice seething violence and taking predominance, “We are envoys of humanity, and we are rewarded with hostility. You had better watch yourself whelp, for I would not hesitate to kill you for your insolence!”
The pony attempted to speak. All that emerged was a series of chokes and gasps. The white stallions face turned a very alarming shade of purple from the iron grip. Terrifyingly enough, Argel Tal wasn’t even holding hard. He had only to tighten his fist, and the pony would die a violent and bloody death. It wouldn’t really matter either way.
“Control yourself Argel Tal. The daemon is asserting itself,” Kharn’s voice was low, and surprisingly smooth, considering the legion from which he hailed.
“Damn it,” Argel Tal hissed, his voice returning to its normal dual tonality. He dropped the pony as he spoke. The spears began wavering.
“STAND DOWN!” A voice roared across the palace courtyard.
Celestia strode from her chariot, flanked by a midnight blue “alicorn”. Immediately the trembling spears were raised. Kharn and Argel Tal fixed her with amused stares. She certainly did use words to fight. A mortal human would likely be on his knees clutching his ears.
“Captain Argel Tal, Centurion Kharn, I must speak with you.”
The amethyst armored unicorn raised himself up, “I will leave you be Princess.”
“Stay, Captain Shining Armor, for this regards you as well.”
She lowered herself into a bow towards Kharn and Argel Tal.
“We are going to war, and we need help. Please, I beg you, help us.”
The things creatures will do on the brink of annihilation. Even so called deities will debase themselves if there is no other way. Mortals are pathetic.
Griffons were the natural enemies of ponies. They were everything ponies were not: warlike, brutal, hateful, vicious, militant, expansionist, mighty warriors all. Griffonic society was built completely around their military. To be a soldier was considered the greatest honor one could have. Militarily the most advanced species on Epona, the Griffons would have been the dominant species of Epona, were it not for the ponies. Griffons hated the ponies, seeing them as conniving, manipulative weaklings. The ponies saw the Griffons as barbarians.
What did Space Marines think of them then? They were both prey. However, one prey was easier to corrupt. The Word Bearers and World Eaters would help the ponies only because of their warp connection. There were always grand uses for them. Griffons had a strange lack of psykers, and were almost incorruptible by the warp. Although their violence could be attributed to Khorne, they were in no way Chaotic. They worshiped order. Griffons were disciplinarians, and hated Chaos in any form, especially the pantheon. They had to be exterminated with extreme prejudice.
The Griffons had made several incursions into Equestria throughout the years. Each time, Celestia had not the will to kill them. Celestia was a diplomat, not a warrior. Luna was the warrior, the fighter of the siblings. She was more than willing to kill off the Griffons. There had been no incursions while she had sat upon the throne with her sister. However, the previous incursions were made when she had been exiled to the moon. Now, the Griffons attacked because they knew she was not trusted by the Guard, and they refused to follow her. Equestria was at its weakest.
With the recent development of gunpowder weaponry by the Griffons, victory seemed assured to them. Seem was the operative word. Nothing is ever what it seems. If it was, where would the fun in all of it be?
In support of their so called allies, the Legions sent one squad each. Twenty Space Marines to subdue a nation, to kill a people. It hardly seemed fair. “Fair for whom?” one must ask. That is always the key question.
***
The first incursion was into the Northern Equestrian city of Stalliongrad. It was bitterly cold there year round. At least, the ponies considered it cold. The Griffons were constantly being subjected to worse temperatures. To them, it was like the warmest summer day, and it was twenty Celsius below zero. Cold lands make for hard warriors.
“Hold!” cried the officer, “mount blades!”
As one, the Griffons removed blades from their belts, affixing them to the fronts of their rifles. Next they brought the rifles across their chests, and stomped their rear claws in a loud clicking sound, the ready position of Gryphus.
“Bladetongue, it’s your turn to lead! Get in there, now!” the section commander roared.
Bladetongue calmly strode to the white painted door, kicking it down with his hind claw. It toppled with a loud crash. A pony jumped out at him, a knife clutched in its magical aura. The muzzle suggested that it was a stallion. As the knife sped towards his eye, Bladetongue side stepped the knife. He brough the stock of his gun into the pony’s skull with a thunderous crack. The pony fell to the ground, clutching his face. The bone had been completely shattered, the eye destroyed by fragments. Bladetongue calmly rolled the screaming pony onto his back, before spearing the creature in the stomach with his bayonet. The pony screamed as the blade entered his organs, and blood began to run in great droves from his nose. Bladetongue struck again, this time in the healthy eye. He speared it out of the socket, trailing the optical nerve, blood spraying wildly from the cavity. To Bladetongue’s disgust, some of the blood smeared his armor. Dammit! He had just polished it!
His comrades rushed past him into the building, searching room by room for their accursed foe. A series of shots sounded, followed by the sound of falling bodies. His comrades emerged, armor smeared with crimson vitae. The building was set on fire and left to burn. They continued to the next building. There were still twenty three to go through. They did it for what was natural. Artificial control may be orderly, but what was orderly was nothing when it was Warp influenced.
Two Stormbirds screamed over the city. Plumes of smoke expanded overhead, and fires spat from windows. The city was a mess of flame. That ruled out thermal imagery. The city was a mess of hit signatures, it was impossible to make anything out. The smoke would wreck havoc with visibility as well, however. For an ordinary human, it would be impossible to see or breathe. For a Space Marine, it was merely an irritant to be ignored.
The scenes in each Stormbird were completely different. The Word Bearers remained silent, meditating on the Words of Lorgar, praying to the Pantheon for glory in war. They hoped to raise enough of a slaughter to make Khorne himself proud. They stood organized and disciplined. They were contradictions, aberrations. They were chaotic and orderly at the same time, an oxymoron to mortals, but making perfect sense to the chosen.
The World Eaters were different in almost every way. They were loud and boisterous, cracking crude jokes, betting on the number of kills they would have. They twitched from the Butcher’s Nails, snarling for blood. The last thing they thought of was the Pantheon. They were truly Chaotic, and they cared nothing for it.
Both Stormbirds crashed down into the main square of the despoiled city. It was the only location large enough for them. The square swarmed with Griffons, foul abominations to the gods of chaos. Turrets located on top of the Stormbirds unloaded thousands of rounds into the orderly ranks. The Griffons assumed that a shield wall would save them from the weapons. They were wrong. Each bolt shell spat from the turrets immediately ignited miniature solid fuel boosters, enabling them to remain traveling faster than sound. Each round punched through the shields and armor like they were paper. With each impact, there was a two second delay before the bolt shells detonated, peppering the wielders with shrapnel, or blowing them apart from the inside. Heads exploded in fountains of crimson gore. Griffons were torn in half by the heavy fire, intestines trailing after their bisected forms. Limbs were amputated, throwing their screaming owners to the ground to bleed out and die.
The ramps slammed down. Again, the differences between the two legions were apparent. The Word Bearers advanced in neat rows, firing their bolters as they moved. They chanted unholy writes from the Book of Lorgar, chilling their foes with their sheer abominableness. They reached the surviving Griffons and drew their swords, decapitating the Griffons with each blow. Survivors were dragged away and quickly crucified to buildings, nails placed through both claws and wings. Their agony would serve the warp well. It was a symphony of screaming and clashing metal, gunshots and explosions.
Argel Tal was a whirlwind of death and destruction. He cleaved a Griffon in half, sending his soul screaming to the Warp. He speared another through the gut with his guardian spear. The Griffon attempted to block, but the force of the blow shattered his iron weapon. The spear rammed clean through, blood staining its perfect golden surface. Argel Tal back handed one with one of his Ceramite wings before tearing a leg clean off. He finished the Girffon with a quick swipe of his blade. All the while, Argel Tal displayed no emotion whatsoever. He did it for the Primarch and the Pantheon. He did what was expected, no less. He killed another Griffon with a quick pierce to the skull. The bird-lion hybrid died with an undignified squawk.
“Captain Argel Tal,” A voice buzzed through his Vox, “We will pull out and orbit the city. We have fuel to last two hours at least.”
“Acknowledged, pilot,” Argel Tal returned, both voices garbled by the communicator, “We will only need half.”
