(MC POV)
There was silence, that silent void of the universe, devoid of all events. And then, without warning, cracks opened in the fabric of reality.
One by one, the silhouettes of the ships emerged from the Warp, starlight illuminating them as they emerged from their journey. Not much had passed since the battle with the armies of the Man of Iron, but the campaign to unify the galaxy could not be slowed down for a single second because the fate of the worlds depended on it.
First came the small scouts—slender ships with silver hulls, silent and deadly in their task. Then frigates followed, then cruisers.
And finally, Bucephelus appeared. My command ship. The strongest and fastest ship in the fleet.
Our ships were shining even though we were in the hinterland of the system. The star illuminated the countless runes that were engraved on the hulls of our ships.
Auxiliary ships floated around my command ship, like moths around the sun. Their purpose was to protect the command ship as well as act as a backup for things Bucephalus did not possess.
I didn't speak, I just looked, my hands were folded behind my back, the sword was in its scabbard - always ready to be drawn.
My first officer came to me standing a few steps back very quietly. He just stared in my direction, thinking that it was not his job to interrupt me. I turned to him and just briefly sent the "Report" request.
"This system is unmarked on the charts. Its star is old but stable" replied my first officer.
"What is the state of the population?" I asked after a few moments. I moved my hand to the sheaths of my sword.
"Our first reports only establish that the fourth planet is inhabited" he answered and after a few moments added, "The reports show that the population is of human origin. They have not yet passed their industrial era."
In the commandless silence that followed, the fleet deployed in perfect symmetry as protocol dictated.
I knew something was fishy. We hadn't yet sent human scouts to see the planet. The flow of souls from that place continued, and I saw millions of souls added to my empire in the Warp. People were dying en masse below.
I closed my eyes.
With a deep breath, my consciousness pulled itself out of my body. It passed through the hull armor, broke through the electromagnetic fields, touched the vacuum of space, and headed for the planet below. A fourth rocky world, perched on the edge of the inhabited zone, covered in whitish clouds and green continents. An oxygen-rich atmosphere, no natural satellites.
But below lay chaos. Humans. And the old breed. Still ignorant, still suspicious of the sky, still loyal to fire, iron, and steam engines. Their civilization was still in its infancy: the chimneys of mining towns, the steel rails cutting through the valleys, the flags flying above fortress cities.
But it was too late.
I sensed something else. A foreign presence. Specifically, a Xenos of nature.
Dark Eldars. Many of them.
They came without mercy. Their thoughts were cold, but with purpose, for they sought flesh, blood, challenge. Their arenas sought new entertainment. More souls had to feed their bloody arenas.
I watched through a thousand eyes, seeing scene after scene. Each one angered me more.
A girl in a blue dress running through a field, screaming, as the fire raged around her.
Armored Eldar hunters, tall and graceful, breaking through the doors of houses and dragging civilians by the hair.
The soldiers of the planet, with gunpowder guns, fighting in vain, without hope of victory.
The boy in the cage, looking at the stars, pure despair on his face.
I opened eyes. Anger appeared on my face.
They wanted a challenge. He will get it.
"The planet is under attack." I said quietly.
My voice cracked as I identified our enemies "Eldar. Slavers. They are kidnapping our people as we speak."
I turned to the command post with visible anger on my face "Prepare all our forces. We will not send a scout. We will not send diplomats."
I unsheathed my flaming sword and shouted "We will come down like meteors. And show these filthy Xenos what it means when they stand in our way."
My words broke through the bridge, causing cheers of support from those in my fleet.
I raised my hand in the air in a direction where no one was.
In a second, the space began to bend.
First there was a golden spark, as small as a mini star. Then the light began to spread in a circle, turning the space in front of him into a portal. There was a crackling sound, deep tones that were heard not through the ears, but through the trembling of the bones.
The space creaked.
And cracked.
The crack opened vertically, like a wound in reality itself. Through it was not darkness, but the fiery sky of the attacked planet. Screams, smoke, red mountains, silhouettes fleeing and silhouettes pursuing. The sound of distant battles.
I stepped through the portal.
My foot touched the brown earth. Above me, Eldar craft flew by, watching what had just happened. But the earth knew. The planet itself trembled under the presence of what had descended.
For this was no ordinary man.
Nor was i the Emperor.
I was the God-Emperor.
And i had come alone.
But the moment i took first few steps, everyone knew.
The sky darkened, not with clouds, but with a presence. Fleeing birds fell dead from the air. Eldar sensors exploded simultaneously. Something had arrived. Something that should not have existed.
I just watched everything. The children hidden under the burned wagon. The woman in shock holding her son and praying, though she no longer knew what for. I could feel the blood on the hands of the Eldar warriors, their excitement as well as their fear. Even their confusion—something had come, not someone.
With a single swing of my sword, not towards my enemies, but towards space, I cut through the air. And where I swung, reality itself cracked. Other portals formed and an army emerged from it. The first wave of my forces arrived.
Everything recoiled before my fury. Even the wind stopped.
I stepped over the ridge, my sword blazing in my hand. Ahead of me, along the very rim, was the Eldar vanguard, arrayed in a semicircle - elegant figures in stark colors. Their armor pulsed in shades of black and gray. Their half-revealed faces were blank and emotionless.
One of them stepped forward. He seemed like a leader. He said nothing, only raised a hand in warning.
I looked at him.
And the whole world slowed.
The wind moved again, but this time it flowed backward. The dust fell back to the ground. The Eldar leader trembled with fear.
I said nothing.
I only raised my sword.
And swung.
But it was no ordinary blow. He did not aim for the body. He aimed for the soul. The very presence of the Eldar warrior. Their essence.
At that moment, the Eldar leader caught fire. Not from the outside, but from the inside. Fire poured from his eyes, his mouth, from the pores of his skin. The roar was not even heard, although the death was painful because his entire body and armor turned to ash.
The others retreated.
Too late.
I walked towards them and the Eldar warriors tried to open fire but their weapons did not obey, as if they had a will of their own.
The first row disappeared in the fire.
The second row found itself transformed into statues of salt.
The third row turned and tried to flee. They did not get far. I just looked at them and closed my fist. The sky above them darkened and soon the lightning flashed. Just a moment later, gray ash was all that was left behind them.
It was over.
In a minute.
Behind me, my men didn't even move.
They didn't have to because the fight wasn't theirs.
I turned and looked south where their greatest concentration was.
"There are more of them," I said, pointing my sword in the direction.
The sword trembled in my hand, it was thirsty. It wanted more.
'Let it burn to the ground' I thought.
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(Witness POV)
His name was Sergeant Roger Marig. Twenty-two years of services, more than half of his life. He fought riots down in the mines, put out fires, rescued children from shipwrecks, shot criminals, sometimes friends. He had a scar across his jaw and symbols tattooed on both arms.
But nothing...nothing had prepared him for this.
He stood sheltered behind an overturned vegetable stand - many in the town of Virell. Next to him lay three dead human beings. One young man with his head blown off. A woman with a bloody belly. And the child who shouldn't have been there, but was.
He had a rifle in his hand. A new model that was useless.
It doesn't work.
Not because she's broken. But because it is incapable of breaking through the armor of the attackers. He just remained silent, as did his weapon, hoping that one of those big-eyed fuckers wouldn't notice him.
He looked over the edge of the shelter.
And saw it.
One of the things was heading his way, but one moment the creature was alive, the next its head had exploded with a bang.
He looked toward the horizon and saw another human being.
A man or something human-like was walking down the horizon in orderly formation. They had swords and giant rifles in their hands. But these were no ordinary swords. He knew it but he didn't know how.
Around him, the pointy-eared ones were dying like a joke. Too easily.
His heart was pounding. Not from fear. Not yet.
From confusion.
From not knowing what to look for.
He shivered when he heard the voice. He didn't hear the voice with his ears, but deep inside him.
"Whoever you are," the soothing voice whispered, "We're coming to help. Don't be afraid."
He turned to the unknown army and saw that they were only a few dozen steps away from him. They were not human, but they were at the same time. Their armored bodies of gold gave off neither heat nor sound. Only movement. Perfect, terrifyingly precise silent movements. They did not look at him for long.
They just continued to pass towards their goals.
Coming out of cover, he raised his hands not to surrender, but to show them. That he was alive. That he was human.
One of those golden men looked at him as he passed.
Just for a moment.
And in that look, Roger saw everything.
He saw an Empire built on war and prayer. He felt the weight in his legs.
He was something more than the material world.
None of the golden men said a word.
But he knelt down anyway. Not because he had to.
But how could he stand?
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(MC POV)
The ground was red, but not from the sun.
From blood.
We were turning the attackers into either a pile of dust or a pile of bloodstains on the ground, but it wasn't enough.
I walked through the ruins and my cohort, my mix of Custodes and Astartes, advanced a little behind me.
I felt something in the air change. Space stretched. I felt movement. one. Tiny vibrations imperceptible to normal human senses.
I turned and watched as one of my Astartes found himself lifted into the air without any visible attack. His body spun in a perfect spiral. And then—a crash. His armor began to rattle and then he just collapsed to the ground, blood gushing.
Another fell. Then a third.
I stopped and saw her.
[Image here]
Lelith Hesperax.
Her movements were not leaps, but dances. A silhouette that rarely touched the ground. Her armor and body were, by my standards, lightly armored and in a very provocative dressing.
She cut through the ranks of my warriors like scissors through paper. Her movements were guided not by instinct but by skill. Not a single blow was unnecessary.
My transhumans fell one after another, confused. They did not see her. Even their implants could not keep up. She was too fast. Among the strongest future Dark Eldars.
In one moment, ten of my warriors were on their feet.
In the next — all on the ground. Torn, dismembered, scattered.
And then, for the first time, she turned to me and looked me.
She smiled at me. Without fear. With delight. Like a dancer who has finally got the audience she deserves.
"You're the one, aren't you?" she said, her voice soft as silk but more poisonous than any gas "The so-called God-Emperor"
She swung the dagger from her belt at me and said "Come then and show me what you're worth."
The battlefield fell silent around us.
I took the lead
We said nothing more.
Warriors of our rank do not exchange words. They exchange only death.
The swing of my sword, enough to cut through a tank or a mountain.
But Lelith… was not there already. She moved.
I swung. She bent. I hit the ground sending a wave of stone. But she was already jumping, landing behind me.
Her dagger plowed in. The air twisted, the ground flared but I moved. She didn't jump back. She didn't go sideways. She was already where she wanted to go.
Then she attacked. Faster than human thought. Seven blows in one second. But in vain.
My sword collides with each blow.
I clench my fist in her direction. The world stops for a moment.
A wave of gravity explodes from him. The trees in the distance break. The stone turns to dust. Warriors from both sides fall to the ground.
And Lelith... laughs.
Another turn, another leap, and she's in my face again.
"You're good," she whispers to me.
But in vain
Almost.
Because when she tries to strike, she's met with empty space.
I disappear and reappear behind her.
And this time I strike straight at her.
My sword cuts through the air and hits her. Not with full force. Just a tiny fraction of the energy.
Lelith lands ten meters away. For the first time, she stumbles and falls to the hard ground.
She looks at me. And laughs.
Blood trickles down her lips.
"Finally," she says, "something that can hurt me."
Blood drips down her chin, and the air smells of fire.
Lelith rises from one knee effortlessly, without a spasm. It's as if the wound doesn't bother her. In fact, it seems like she's enjoying it. Her gaze burns not with hatred, but with pleasure.
"One more time," she barks.
And then she's on the move.
Not running. Not flying. But disappearing.
She comes from the side. Then from behind. From below. Four strikes a second, each dagger laced with the worst poisons in the Webway. One strike would bring down any living thing.
My sword glows not with a golden light, but with white. It wants to be used.
I don't defend myself.
And the blow, her fastest, most precise, deepest ever, goes straight for my neck. All the power, the speed, the knowledge of a millennium of deadly dance. No mistake.
But…
I don't block. I don't dodge.
I just watch and calculate.
And when the dagger comes within an inch of my neck, I raise my hand and grab the blade and it turns to ash.
Lelith shivers. Not from pain.
From realization.
"You are not human," she whispers.
"You are not even an ordinary god."
"You are the savior of Lady Isha."
I looked at her. How did she know? How could she know?
And Lelith. Her eyes burned with joy. She laughed to herself.
She pulled a thin black ring from her belt. Seemingly insignificant. Now was the time. I knew it.
She placed it on one of her fingers and a portal opened just a step away from her. A hole in reality.
Not a portal like our teleportation technology. It's not even like a psionic cleft. This was the conductor for the main part. She could not teleport directly to the Webway, but she could teleport to the similiar site.
"I'll see you again," she whispered to me, but I heard her "I'll come again."
And then it just disappears. Only the other Proto-Dark Eldar remained in cover. She left them at their mercy.