Choices, Part 3

Remember when I said you’d find out about the 100% memetic rapetrain that is the Custodes on the warpath? Well here you go.

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Around Shield-Captain Ankelion, battle raged.

The Grimm seemed endless. They acted deceptively unified, whatever instincts driving their animalistic behavior nearly uniform across the myriad forms they took. Out from their dropship and into a battlefield his shield company fought, slaughtering the Grimm by the hundred. On and on they came, pouring out of the network of quasi-gothic buildings that composed the arch-traitor’s corrupted lair. Yet more erupted out of the ground, while others descended from the skies above.

One of the creatures, a beowolf, lunged at him, paying no mind to its fellow that the Shield-Captain had just bisected with his Paragon Spear. Ankelion slashed with his spear, beheading the beast with a single strike. Around him his Shield-Brothers fought, their spears carving a path through the arch-traitor’s demesne. Beyond his company the Lamenters fought hard as well, as did the Sisters of Silence and their other mortal allies. Ankelion glimpsed flashes of las weaponry, heard the staccato of bolters, all of it laying waste to the Grimm host.

Elsewhere upon the witch’s bastion, the last of the Lamenters’ drop pods touched down, bringing the remainder of the chapter’s battle brothers to the fight. The nearest of them crashed directly into a nearby building, a profaned and violated cathedral no doubt dedicated to whatever dark gods Salem worshipped. The pod simply sliced through the roof, a burning ring of fire and smoke marking where slate and tile met ceramite superheated by re-entry. A moment later and the windows of the building were alight with weapons fire from within. The bulk of the Grimm host had been pouring out from within the cathedral, and Ankelion and his company had their first objective to take.

The Shield-Captain led the charge, his host slaughtering their way through the beasts and into the cathedral proper. The interior in darker times would have seemingly been lit with strange sconces and chandeliers filled with glowing, violet crystals. At the moment, it was being lit by a never ending stream of bolter, melta and plasma fire aimed in all directions. Ahead of him were a full squad of Lamenters, having joined the battle before even leaving their drop pod, standing shoulder to shoulder at the tops of the ramps and holding back the tide of Grimm. Their massed fire just barely held the tide back, the beasts scrambling over the few intact pews not reduced to flaming splinters by the drop pod’s arrival.

Ankelion and his fellow Custodes turned the tide. From his left a Beowolf lunged at him. In an instant Ankelion grabbed the creature by its neck, snapping the beast’s neck and tossing it aside. In the same moment another charged from the front, and the Shield-Captain cut it down. To his left and right, the brothers of his company fought with every bit the fervor as he, slaying beasts of all shapes and types. Even in the few moments the company had been engaged, he had already seen all manner of monster and beast. Hulking primates, menacing canines and lithe lupines. Insectoid, arachnid and even lizard-like variants. Some spat acid that simply washed off of their auramite armor, a few even spat fire that barely singed their panopoly. To Ankelion, it had become abundantly apparent at least that their creator did not lack in imagination.

As the Grimm were repelled and the beleaguered Astartes relieved, the great double doors at the end of the hall abruptly burst open, and a mighty beast strode through. The Lamenters’ battle logs had made mention of a creature similar to this one, a colossal primate that had held its own against a full squad and even a dozen of the very warriors trained to fight it. An elder Grimm, a king among kings they had referred to it as, so hulking and menacing it required a dreadnought to efficiently dispatch.

Ankelion was not a dreadnought as some of his brethren were, encased in ageless bodies of auramite. He did not need to be, not here and now. With a roar he charged the beast, his Paragon Spear held at the ready. The beast beat its chest and returned a roar of its own, a bellowing so loud it shook the room to its foundation. It stepped forward to challenge him but Ankelion was already there, a slash of his spear cleaving through the arm reaching out to grab at him. The spear blow carried through, carving into the creature’s chest to the hilt and through before severing its other arm below the shoulder. A backslash and the creature’s head followed the severed limbs, a look reminiscent of shock frozen on its face as its head and body both began to dissolve before even hitting the floor.

The Shield-Captain had taken all of two seconds to dispatch a foe that stalemated a whole squad of Astartes, had even swatted aside the very Huntsmen trained to slay it. Ankelion had felt he could have killed it even faster in moderately better circumstances.

“Honored Custodes,” The Lamenter Sergeant spoke as he approached. “We thank you for your help. Sergeant Dumedion, Squad Dumedion. We’re to push north toward the central structure, our orders are to rendezvous with our command squad.”

“Do not thank me yet Lamenter.” Ankelion paid the Astartes no more mind and leapt over the still dissolving corpse, charging out of the room and into the hall beyond. Yet more of the monsters swelled forth, accompanied by a titanic invertebrate creature, the largest he had yet seen by far. It was massive, even larger than the colossal primate. The ostentatious, violet-lit halls of the arch-traitor’s fortress were large, but the scorpion-like beast made them feel like narrow gangways within the guts of some ancient Space Hulk. The Scorpion Grimm was even larger than a Thunderhawk, its titanic pincers more than capable of sundering even terminator armor. From around it the Grimm poured, the chitinous beast a mere obstacle to their flow.

Ankelion pressed onward, his Shield-Brothers raising the bolters in their spears and firing the sacred weapons for the first time since they had joined the fight. Their bolter shells decimated the host of Grimm, dozens dying a second as single, expertly aimed penetrators slew two, three or even four at once. Onward the giant pressed, heedles of its own smaller brethren it crushed underfoot. The Lamenters behind them added their own volume of fire to the mix, standard and heavy bolter alike engulfing the whole host in massed fire. Their added weight of fire managed to thin the host enough to allow the Custodes to focus upon the giant Alpha.

At that point, the Shield-brothers had encountered their first real resistance. Their shells simply gouged craters and rents in the beast’s chitin, failing to damage it in any meaningful way. Not even the Lamenters’ plasma guns or the heavy Melta that one of them carried had any visible effect as the creature pressed on, shrugging off their barrage with callous ease.

Ankelion was readying his spear to charge when the turning point came. a massive pillar along the wall began to glow and collapse, the sections guided into the beast by unseen hands. From amongst the Lamenters strode the Headmistress, a veritable Huntress in her own right, and behind her a squad of the Sisters of Silence followed. With a riding crop she guided the stones as a conductor would guide their orchestra. The woman’s Semblance manifested as something akin to a psyker’s telekine ability, an ability she was now using to great effect.

The Sisters of Silence followed with her, close behind and guarding her. The analytic part of Ankelion’s mind noted that the Sisters’ Blank nature seemingly had no effect on her capabilities. Not a true psyker then, or else the woman would have been doubled over in pain if not outright catatonic. In the moment he took to glance her way, the Sister-Superior among them spoke in Battlemark to him, quick and deft gestures all Custodes understood. [i]Protecting her, is immune to us[/i]. The revelation was a welcome surprise, and a mystery for another time.

The stones crashed down, all but burying the giant scorpion Grimm and pinning it there. Neither the Custodes nor their Lamenter support needed instruction, and they all rushed forth to slash at and dismember the beast. The creature screeched in pain as it died, as chain and power weapons cleaved through its body. In scant moments it too joined the primate beast from the last room in whatever afterlife awaited its kind.

“This is not your battlefield, Headmistress,” The Shield-Captain spoke for the first time since the battle began, the ebb of battle allowing a moment of conversation.

“I want to be there,” she replied, her voice level. “No, I [i]need[/i] to be there when she dies.” The woman’s garb was largely unchanged, save for the addition of a carapace vest and trousers that she now wore. Judging from the worn insignia embedded in the chestplate’s center, the added gear was no doubt procured from the armories allocated to the Lamenters’ battle serfs, reduced in number during their crusade. Likely the Lamenters had insisted on some form of additional protection contingent on her joining the ground battle. Ankelion could see the pain and anguish behind her eyes, anger and rage and vengeance mixing together and burning within those emerald green pools. She had lost someone dear to her and would not take no as an answer, not even from a demigod so far above her. Headmistress Goodwitch wanted the arch-traitor dead, just as much as Ankelion did, just as much as the Lamenters did.

Possibly even more so.

Further words were unneeded. The Shield-Captain nodded, turning and pressing on with his company.

“Shield-Captain, an update,” came a voice through his comms-link, said voice belonging to one of the Lamenters’ Techmarines.

“Report.”

“Our skull probes have located the witch,” The Techmarine stated. “She is residing in a librarium complex approximately one hundred meters north from your current location within the castle. Be advised, there’s a force of her human and Faunus servants moving toward your current position. Brother-Captain Theosius and our command squad are also en route, but a Grimm host is slowing our advance.”

Faunus. Another curiosity of the world. At a glance, it was understandable that one might assume them to be mutants or at the very least some odd strain of abhuman. They appeared to be otherwise normal mortal humans, but with some sort of added animal trait or feature. Animal horns, tails and the like were common, with other traits being rarer. The Lamenters’ Apothecaries had reportedly examined their genes to come to some determination, only to find them indiscernible from untainted human genetic code, barring the standard expected genetic drift that occured in populations isolated for countless millennia. For all intents and purposes these Faunus were apparently human, their deformities a mystery, and for the most part had been accepted by and integrated into Remnant’s culture and society.

For the most part being the key phrase. There had been some rebellious elements amongst the populace, a group that the Lamenters had largely dealt with in the past year they spent on Remnant. Those that had not been killed had laid down their arms and surrendered, the worst of them given the Emperor’s Judgement for their crimes. Those showing remorse for their actions had been turned over to the local authorities and duly imprisoned, the Lamenters showing them rare mercy that many would think unwise. Ultimately it was not Ankelion’s call to make, nor even his remote concern considering his task at hand. The Lamenters had chosen to let the local mortals have agency to handle their affairs, and whatever consequences came from it were theirs and theirs alone.

“Acknowledged,” Ankelion spoke. The remains of the scorpion Grimm had dissolved enough to allow the Shield-Brethren to advance. and like the Lamenter had warned, they encountered mortal foes. The so-called Faunus before him were a pitiful lot, clutching an assortment of clubs, blades and stubbers. Their armor was scuffed and worn, belying the state of their group. The group’s leader was one Ankelion recognized from a pict-capture, a human henchman the arch-traitor had at her disposal and possibly the last that yet lived. He was wearing green and brown garb, and his eyes were stony and focused on the Shield-Captain and his host. The mortal cracked his knuckles, clearly ready for a fight.

“You all will die here, Lamen-”

Ankelion simply [i]moved[/i]. Fifty paces separated them, and in a mortal heartbeat the Shield-Captain had covered it all. The reaction of shock and surprise was still forming on the man’s face when Ankelion’s auramite gauntlet grasped his head, hoisting the man into the air with a single hand. His Paragon Spear was unnecessary, because this [i]traitor[/i] didn’t deserve to have his blood sully his weapon.

[i]“I am no Astarte,”[/i] Ankelion hissed, crushing his skull and tossing the corpse aside. The man’s lauded Aura had been no use to him, Ankelion’s swiftness had made sure of it. In the same moment of time his ragtag cohort had been slaughtered, a dozen Guardian Spears from his company speaking and casting bolter shells forth, reducing these last pitiful holdouts to squalls of gore and viscera. Their Astarte cohort hadn’t even had time to ready their own weapons, so swift had Ankelion and his brothers had been.

The Shield-Captain pushed on, as did those at his back. They still had a job to finish. The Headmistress showed no reaction to the mess beneath her feet, the woman no doubt desensitized to transhuman war by that point. Round the corner and a hundred paces on, and they encountered yet more Grimm resistance, some of the harshest yet. These beasts were larger, almost all were Alphas or even elders. Once more Custode and Grimm fell upon one another, the Custodians and their allies pushing the creatures back with bolter and spear, with melta and plasma.

Only this time the Grimm were being hemmed in from another direction. Through the horde of flesh and chitin, Ankelion observed a maelstrom of carnage coming from a distant side hall. He registered it as the Lamenters command squad in close combat, carving their way through the horde to reach them. Ankelion redoubled his efforts, his Paragon Spear cleaving through multiple of the Grimm with each swing. With the combined efforts of the two forces hemming in the Grimm, they were culled utterly to the last.

The carnage abruptly ended as the last unnatural beast lay dead, its corpse sublimating to nothing. “Captain,” Ankelion spoke, “You still live.”

The Lamenter and his command squad looked worse for wear, rents and dents littering their armor. Yet they stood there, unbowed and unbroken, facing the same foe Ankelion did. That at least Ankelion could respect. “The Grimm Queen is near,” Captain Theosius replied. “In the name of our Chapter, we will not perish before her.”

Ankelion nodded, turning to face a pair of double doors down the hall. That way lay the librarium the Lamenter Techmarine had described. Said Techmarine accompanied the command squad, and was the next to speak. “The skull probes are still observing her. She has not moved from the central chamber. She also appears to be… doing something.”

“Explain.”

“Unsure,” The Techmarine answered. His helm tilted slightly, the Marine examining whatever data feed he was linked to. “She’s interacting with some sort of floating spherical object. A Librarian might be more suited to describing what I am seeing.”

Unnecessary, with the sisters present. “Some sort of ritual then, one we must interrupt,” the Shield-Captain decided. Ankelion turned and began to run, the rest of his company and their allies struggling to keep up. He didn’t bother stopping at the doors, turning and letting his pauldron tackle the brunt of the blow as he simply crashed through the giant wooden barriers and into the chamber, shouldering the double doors open with a crash.

The room was massive, such that the Techmarine’s description failed to do it justice. It was a vast chamber, two floors dedicated to nothing but stack after stack of dusty tomes. Like the rest of the castle so far, glowing violet crystals were the main source of light, sconces and chandeliers lining the walls and ceiling containing clusters of them. The central domed area was roofed by glass, letting the dim twilight that permeated the realm to filter through. The bookshelves were so tall that a ladder would have been needed to reach the top shelves, even for a transhuman. The library was no doubt filled with [i]millions[/i] of tomes, virtual eons of history and a testament to how long the witch had seemingly been alive. Far from the largest Ankelion had ever personally seen, but it was no doubt by far the largest this world had to offer.

The notion came to Ankelion then, that the witch might have even been alive during the time of the Emperor, his Master, and was perhaps even alive from the time before even the birth of his Master’s Imperium. Perhaps during the Age of Strife, or even from the Times of Myth. As far as the few people that had been aware of her prior to the lamenters’ arrival could ascertain, she had always been on Remnant. Salem had been an ever-present threat, from before they could even record their history. A being as old as the Master of Mankind, and quite possibly every bit as experienced.

She could not be allowed to live.

Standing at the center and beneath the dome, surrounded by tables covered in a disarray of open tomes and books was the arch-traitor herself. She did not react to Shield-Captain Ankelion intruding upon her inner sanctum, nor to the rest of his Shield-Brethren and their gathered forces entering behind him. She merely remained impassive, looking away from the newcomers at some sort of ornate, blue-gold font floating upon a pedestal.

His shield company and the Lamenters began to move, but Ankelion’s voice stopped them.

“Hold fast,” Ankelion spoke.

“Captain?” Shield-Brother Calpurius asked.

[i]“She is mine.”[/i] Captain Theosius opened his mouth but Ankelion answered before the Captain could even ask. “If she is as old and dangerous as she is believed, I need to know [i]how[/i]. Not just for my fellow Custodians, but for the Emperor and the Imperium.”

A beat passed in uneasy silence. “I understand,” came his eventual response.

“If I fall, do with her what you will Calpurius. She cannot be allowed to live.” His second merely nodded in reply as The Shield-Captain turned, and began striding toward the arch-traitor.

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Author’s Notes:

3.1K words. All of this was written in a few hours. Never been this motivated to write.

Holy shit, talk about a no holds barred beatdown. As an Astarte is to a mere mortal man, a Custode is to an Astarte. These guys are no fucking joke. I’m willing to bet that the way I portrayed them here actually [i]nerfs[/i] them, as they’re that goddamn OP. Seriously, look at their tabletop rules at all the BS they can pull. They have a literally unkillable jetbike independent character that is nearly impossible to remove from the table unless you hit them with a hammer. As in smash the model with a literal hammer, because you ain’t killing it in the game. Can’t even tarpit it because it flies and it can dodge all the shit that can hurt it.

Anyways, yeah. That King Beringel is a sort of sibling to the one the Lamenters and trainee Huntsmen fought in FTWC. Them working together could barely injure it, and they needed to be saved by a dread. Against a Custodian Shield-Captain? Seconds at the most. A literal speed bump to a demigod. Also hope you caught the cameo there.

As you’ve already read, I decided that the SoS shouldn’t have an effect on Aura-enhanced humans. I leave you to take what you read how you will, but my reasoning is as follows: A pariah disrupts a psyker’s connection to the Warp. But because Aura flows from within a user’s soul, and when said souls are structured differently and are independent of the Warp? The Pariah aura becomes a moot point. The SoS might not want to stick around on Remnant for very long either, or they might start to realize that people would suddenly start to not mind being around them, among other things. Saying anything else will be a spoiler, and I love that kind of discussion. :D

As for the Faunus, it was something else I had to decide on. Considering it’s canon that humans and Faunus can interbreed and produce viable offspring, they are genetically similar enough to produce viable offspring. Ergo, they might actually be the same species as far as the subject of genetics is concerned. Not that it matters, as Faunus are something strictly unique to Remnant, so to speak. Again, anything else would be a spoiler. ;D

Anyways, yeah. I’m glad people are enjoying the scribbles I make. It makes me feel a lot better about life. Until next time.