Struggle - 40k Story
In Orbit Over World designated 2923-47, 0.016.211.M31
This was far from the first time in my years of training that I found myself staring into the eye of my enemy. Whether it was down a bolter’s sight or in my face screaming for my death, I had long known the gaze of those that wished me dead. In all those intense battles, never before had I seen a gaze as malicious as the one before me. This baleful orb contained only madness and a hungry rage that thirsted to end my existence and shred my very soul. We Astartes were bred not to feel fear, the emotion written out of our very genes by a mind as far beyond mine as mine is the lowly rat. Still, meeting that unnatural gaze made something in my gut twist. I knew that it hated me simply for existing and would delight in tearing me to pieces, both in the physical realm as well as in the warp.
It was hard to see the daemon. Reality forced upon it a shape and a form, but it was so alien to them that attempts to focus on it saw your eyes sliding away. It was like trying to judge the shape of a cloud from the shadow it left as it passed over a hillside. Something larger, more twisted, forced into limiting dimensions as different angles of its reality all changed to reveal themselves.
Its eye staring back at me was in the center of twisted, writhing flesh, a grotesquery pulled into our world from the warp and given form but not shape. Pale flesh heaved and twisted. Patches of fur sprouted in all the colors of the rainbow, only to fall off, vanishing before it hit the ground. If I fell to this foul horror, my torment would not end with my death; I knew what awaited my spirit in the twisted chaos of the Warp within its grasp. Daemons like this one before me would torture and tear at me until I was devoured by a terror even greater than they. Every instinct in my body pushed me to draw the bolt pistol mag sealed to my thigh and destroy it.
As I watched, the eye split and ran like a smashed egg yolk. A long tongue emerged, slapping wetly against shifting flesh as the orb turned into a mouth. Teeth from different species ringed the hole into nothingness. The depths of its maw seemed infinite, opening to a hungry empty darkness. It made a deep, wet growling sound as it sensed my emotions rippling through the immaterium. A thin pseudopod of flesh extended towards me, thickening and growing until a fully formed human foot, complete with red painted nails, touched the bare metal floor and pulled the abomination towards me. It slammed into a wall of force rising from the glowing ritual circle placed around it. A hand fell to my shoulder pad.
“You’re ready for this. It’s just one more test in a life full of them.” The toneless voice of my mentor Ynasis drew me back from contemplating the horror he had called forth. My instructor in the arts arcane had been a nigh constant presence at my side for years since I had completed my ascension to an Astartes existence, but this challenge was one I must face alone if I was to grow beyond his tutelage. I stood straighter as I felt his reassurance and confidence in me through our mental connection. The unnaturalness of the daemon still registered as a physical response, but I marshaled my emotions. The daemon hissed and heaved against the barrier again. “With this, you prove your worth to wield the power you were given, prove that you deserved the training I gave you. Any Astartes can pull a trigger or swing a chainsword. This is where you take your first steps on the path your potential grants you.”
The true nature of the warp and its neverborn denizens had only recently been revealed to us by agents of the Warmaster, and like any new information we discovered, the Alpha Legion rolled it into our tactical and strategic outlooks. We explored the new shores of the warp slowly, and examined the data we found with care. I was not the first of the Librarian to undergo this test. Other students had been lost to the summoned daemons in the past, and each time we had wrapped another layer of protection around the ritual. Not for the student, of course, since falling to this beast meant they were not ready to battle in this new universe of unrevealed mystery, but for the others on the ship. The first daemon to breach the testing chamber took the heads of over a dozen battle brothers down with its black, smoking blade before we could send it screaming back into the warp.
We were fortunate beyond other legions for we in the Alpha Legion had only outwardly followed the edicts of the Council Of Nikea and never truly dissolved our Librarium organizations. Throwing a weapon from your arsenal only left it for your enemies to pick up and use against you. Our psykers had shifted within the Legions. Our training moved more to focus on hidden support abilities as the gifted disguised themselves as line troopers and officers. We still maintained our internal rank structure and traditions, but none of the observers of the larger Imperium would notice. My own training had been encompassed in this clandestine effort, and I found I had more talent for this subtle art than for the psychic blasts and rending power of the mind applied to combat.
This is not to say that news of the true nature of the warp and the beings that dwelled within had not changed our behavior. Shocked to the core by the information, the Legion Librarium threw themselves into research and study. Each one from the freshest recruit still undergoing genetic changes to the ancient masters who had battled at the side of the Primarch when there was only one each found themselves humbled by their true ignorance. We had communicated back and forth with the other legions, sharing what we learned with the Word Bearers who disiminated it to the other Legions. We found the reverence and worship of the sons of Lorgar towards these beasts distasteful. We approached it from a more analytical viewpoint.
It was difficult to maintain that detached, logical mind at the sight of the daemon in front of me, however. Its very existence was an affront to the whole of the material realm. The horror spread out across the psionic field containing it. Colors flashed across its expanse of flesh as more mouths opened across its surface, each one dropping a foul, oily ichor that vanished back to the warp after a few moments. Eyes from dozens of species glared at me, wanting nothing more than to devour my flesh and rend my soul. The targeting arrays built into my armour were confused by the changing form. Target locks and battle data kept flipping on and off as the meat shifted. I turned to Ynasis and nodded.
I had, along with the brothers who ascended and trained alongside me, been operating as a member of a scout squad for most of the past decade. We had been deployed where stealth and guile had been needed. Our training, though was more unique. Each member of us had been schooled in the arts of insertion, sabotage, and assassination as a head hunter kill team. Our battlefield training was a point of pride for us, but always we had deployed under direction of others. We had been selected for the potential I represented, and each of us trained to a specialization that could see us perform with flexibility in combat. My training, however, had been more intense than the others. My psychic powers had been bound and contained when we deployed simply as scouts, and our potential as a unit had been held back as a result. Now I would contribute fully to the efforts we made, and no longer feel as much a burden as I had when I was operating just as a bolter bearer.
My master had turned his mind to the study of these warp beasts like no other and a river of ink had flown from his pen. He bound them into service, to question and learn from them. Each lied as easily as my hearts beat, but his will binding them allowed him to sense their intent. They still told conflicting tales, for truth is an ephemeral thing in the warp, but sifting through their words revealed small nuggets of information we could use. He wished to push further in his research, but the Librarium ordered caution. This angered him, as he believed that mastery of the Warp would win humanity the stars, but he was dutiful and progressed slowly when he wished to run ahead. I felt this tension in him, even disguised behind his mental shields. I wished to pass this test and join as a partner instead of a student. All my training had lead me to this confrontation.
His emotionless faceplate stared down at me and nodded back. He dropped his hand from my pauldron and turned away. His command of warp presences was not going to be there to save me if I failed. I stood or fell off my own skill alone. The door irised opened and I could see a battle brother standing across the hall from the entrance, a bolter armed and ready to fire should the horror breach its containment. He didn’t move at all, but my helmet vox clicked on and I heard my long time friend Cartis speaking to me.
“Don’t let me clean up your mess this time, Hap.” I chuckled back at him and flashed a rude hand gesture behind Ynasis back. “You know you’ll be standing in my line of fire.”
“The only case where you will have to fire is when I am already dead, so it is not a worry.” The horror behind me released the high pitched giggle of a child with a treat. “This is not the worst thing we have faced.”
It is though. Ynasis didn’t speak through the vox, but directly into our minds. The horror perked up at the psychic disturbance, the giggle changing to an animalistic howl. You have faced perils of your body and done well, but this is a corruption of your soul and mind that you must master if you will wield the power of the warp. Cartis nodded, but I do not know if he could truly understand the threat behind me. I think no one without the gift can.
Yes master, I sent back. I steeled my mind and built a fortress of my will. Ynasis stepped through the door and closed it behind him, leaving me alone with the abomination. I faced the creature and readied myself. Its flesh rippled as its howling rose in volume. The noises were almost harmonic, trying to trigger an atavistic fear that I no longer had. A warning light began flashing in the corners of the room. I knew this was reflected throughout the ship we were on, readying the crew for the potential breach.
One of the layers of security we put in place was that this test would take place isolated from the main ships of the fleet. The Stormbird we were on was not only being crewed by battle ready Astartes, we were under the guns of the Sulimun. The Strike Cruiser was the backbone of the 2,923rd Expedition Fleet, and stood ready to destroy not just the monster but the whole Stormbird should I fail. The intra-ship vox crackled to life as Ynasis warned all souls aboard both craft that Librarian testing would begin and a daemon was going to be released. Everyone aboard knew that the safety features we put in place would only be tested if I failed.
“All crew to battle stations, prepare to repel boarders. Beginning initiate testing in 5, 4, 3, 2…” As the countdown ended, the warp circle collapsed. No longer restrained by the arcane science, the horror surged across the distance to me as if it had no bones to constrain its movement. My heightened reflexes allowed me to step back and catch the first claw as it formed and tried to take my head, but the flesh melted from my hand as a newly formed stinger scratched across my chest plate leaving a thick smear of some toxin behind. I shoved at the center mass, throwing it back a few feet. Battle training took over and I drew my pistol, but the weapon was unloaded. Ynasis spoke in my mind again, emotionless even as I struggled for my life.
That is not the weapon you need now. Bend your will and fight back. The horror lashed tentacles against me, trying to plunge through gaps in my armour. Finding none, the creature wrapped around my arm and pulled itself to me. It crashed over me like a wave, teeth and hooks forming to break my armour. My helmet’s display went black as the daemon covered my head. I felt teeth grinding on the flexible gorget at my neck. The giggle returned muffled by the flesh around me. Reviewing my training I almost forcefully grabbed my will and reached out in the aetherial realm.
It is hard to describe the appearance of the warp and how minds manifest there to those who cannot see it. Metaphor falls short of what our sixth sense reveals to us. Even when conversing with another practitioner, we find it difficult. Our own minds filter what we see into something we can understand and handle. When I say a human’s mind is like a flame, it is a weak analogy that I hope others can understand. The mind flickers and changes constantly, in motion at all levels. But, with training, you can learn to determine things about the flames. The central part moves in one direction. The colors shift and move but you can see the bands. And like a flame, a skilled tender can get it to bend to our will, make the flame work for us. This metaphor is poor, but it works.
The horror’s mind, on the other hand, bubbled like a boiling pot in zero gravity. There was nothing we could call a thought there. The creature was a twisted mass of emotions and instincts guided by a low cunning that desired only the suffering of the mortals and the taste of their souls. I gathered my will into a blow of pure psionic force and launched it at the creature. Its astral self twisted and flowed like the flesh it cloaked itself in when pushed into the material realm, avoiding my psionic blow. The backlash of pain speared through my head. Its efforts to crack my armour redoubled.
Again and again I cast forth my will, trying to break the beast. Each miss sent another spike of pain through my mind. The warp bound mind of the daemon kept twisting and changing even as its material flesh flickered and mutated. Its body flowed over me, seeking gaps. A servo in my leg popped and I fell to one knee, the motion breaking my concentration and closing my connection to the warp.
Warning runes were flashing on my helmet’s display showing my armour’s integrity was failing. I could hear the whine of overtaxed ceramite at the edge of splitting and cracking. As I gathered myself, my helmet went dark as some integral connection broke. I was trapped in here with only me own heavy breathing. I knew that if I didn’t defeat it soon, it would force a gap. Its liquid flesh would flow through and begin to rip me to pieces inside my own armour. I drew a deep breath and once again pushed my mind out. The daemon’s mind shone in the warp with glee, the joy a predator feels when its prey is injured and limping. I began to form another blast of pure will when I paused and began to rethink.
Every blow I made had been evaded however I struck; the daemon’s mind was too alien for me to target easily. I had to get it to hold still so I could destroy it. The predator instincts in its mind could be fooled allowing me to draw it in too close to escape. I let myself fall to both knees, as if I was defeated and exhausted. I let a slight crack form in my mental shield, tempting the horror’s mind in close. It struck quickly, almost too fast for my plan to work. My genehanced mind and extensive psycher training was ready for its movement though, and I gripped the beast in a fist of mental effort before it could retreat. It struggled in my grip but I held it fast through pure will. My body fell further as I opened my mind and turned from my physical self to my astral form.
What passed for the mind of the horror was cold in my grip, a cold so deep it burned me. I felt it bubbling against my projected flesh, but I held on even as it tried to change. My other fist rose and struck a blow against it. It rippled back, but could not evade it as it had before. I dealt it another blow, then more as fast as my will could move in the sea of souls. The flickering of the daemon’s mind slowed and dimmed, but I could feel its malice. Its glee turned to fear as chips of light flew from its form to dissolve back into the warp flowing around us.I could see other beings of the sea of souls watching us struggle. They waited for one of us to weaken enough to spring and devour us.
The horror’s mind formed spikes in my astral hands and almost slipped my grip, but it was weakened. I wrapped it in chains of eldritch force. It tugged against my very mind, but I knew I had it now. I formed a blade of my will and slashed deep, carving chunks from its spiritual form. Each piece drifted on the currents around us before being snapped up by beings too small to make out. Distantly I could feel the physical presence of the horror writhing on me, trying to push in before I cut away its presence in the warp.
Smaller and smaller I carved the thing’s mind. The mental chains I bound it with forced an order on it that I could strike. The tone of the mind changed again, from fear to pleading. I felt more than heard it promising me rewards, trying to show me terrible truths it thought would distract me, open me up to it. I resisted even this, striking it once more. The creature reared in its bounds, phantom tendrils lashing out against my astral body.
I felt pain like nothing I have before, but I was confident in my victory. Ynasis had taught me well, preparing me to face challenges of the warp. This test of my skills was the last one before he could confidently allow me to practice on my own. I snipped each tendril before it could draw back to the daemon’s mind. Soon the fight left it. I released my bonds one by one until the mind drifted free into the warp. Dozens of small predators snapped up chunks, fighting each other for faint tendrils of power. I knew it was not fully dead, for the beings of the warp cannot die. But I had diminished it, weakened it, and banished it.
I felt other eyes on me, larger warp presences watching me. I let the confidence of my victory move through me and grant me strength. My astral presence blazed forth with an internal fire, bringing light to that dark realm, showing I was ready for any challenge. I felt the large presences fade back into the general background of the warp. They knew that one day know matter what I did, when my life ended, my soulstuff would go to feed them and their kindred. Their infinite patience saw them retreat from a fight they did not have to win. I lowered my consciousness back into my body.
My helmet was still dark. I stood up, pulling the loose sack of flesh off my shoulders. It was covered in suckers and mouths, but without the animating will of the daemon pushing into it from the warp, it soon turned to powder and vanished. I removed my helm and breathed deep. I strode to the door, the leg of my armour grinding out with each movement. Slapping the activation rune, the door irised open to show the barrel of a bolter pointed directly at my forehead. I could see down the barrel to the mass reactive round.
“Are you you?” Cartis asked me, his barrel unwavering. I saw his finger on the trigger and knew I was seconds from death. My own battle instincts almost took over but I managed to repress them enough to only nod.
“He is,” Ynasis said aloud. He had removed his helmet and stood there staring down at me. A taciturn man, his face gave away nothing of the pride I could feel his mind projecting as he reached out to me holding a small package. I took it out of his hands and unwrapped it. A thick book, its binding was simple and its cover was a blank brown. Bronze ringed the edges, protecting it. Chains bound to its body would wrap my armour, making it part of my wargear for the remainder of my life. I opened it, quickly flipping through each blank page. Cartis snapped his bolter down and saluted with his fist to his chest as Ynasis released the book. Our brotherhood was not given over to the more martial rituals of the other legions, but this one was important.
“Welcome to the Librarium of the Alpha Legion, Journeyman Sergeant Hapax Legomenon”. Cartis gave a shout of pride and joy and wrapped me in embrace. He was taller and I had to dodge quickly to prevent my forehead from rebounding from his armour. A smile crept across my face before vanishing quickly. Though I felt the pride of my victory and ascension, I knew that the true hard work and difficult study was before me now.
Most Legions marked promotions and advancements with new and better weapons. Our Legion marked my ascension that day with an empty book. The symbolism of that could not escape me. I was given not just power and authority with this, but a duty to fill the book with knowledge that would guide my brothers in the years and wars to come. I laid my hand on the grimoire I was gifted and swore a silent oath that I would match this burden.
