# Warhammer 60,000: The Advent of the Unknown (Rewritten)



## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Finally... Chapter one... After weeks and weeks of rewriting....

Comments pls.... The nastier the better... Tnx!!!!!!!.....

========================================================

*Warhammer 60,000: The Advent of the Unknown*


*“An unfathomable power is preparing for its dominion...
And the stars themselves will cower in its coming...
For it is without name and came forth from oblivion...
To conquer all and proclaim death to the living...”*​

Purity, it is something we want. Something we crave for. Something we would die for, but it always escapes our cold and merciless hands. 

Why didn't we see it? 

Why were we so blind? 

We thought that we could do it. We thought we could end everything. 

Vanquish the darkness by killing its root but it was not so, for the root wasn't in the twisting nether of the Immaterium, it was inside every sentient being. 

It was always there, from the beginning of time. 

Cradled by their insignificant minds. The very source that gave birth to the decadence that is the daemon and the Dark Gods themselves!

We must eradicate it. 

We must annihilate it. 

And, if it takes a million universes to accomplish our tasks, we will do so. 

For there is nothing more pleasing in our apathetic eyes than the serene and pure tendrils of the Empyrean or the gaze and favor by He who knows all!​

*(Chapter I)
“This universe is unaware and unprepared…
Of an unseen void that is spreading…
Empires spread war and bloodshed…
Oblivious to their doom that is coming…”​*

It is the year 60,000 A.D., the universe is being torn asunder and its galaxies are being shackled by two relentless titanic empires: the Tau Empire and the Imperium of Man. 

On the Western quadrant of the universal plane, the crusades of Humanity steamrolled unopposed as the might of its military war machines give no quarter, to any who would deny the Emperor's guiding light. To the east, the hunter cadres of the Tau offer the irrefutable Greater Good, and annihilate those that would refuse it. 

Two races, two universal powers and two kingdoms that are utterly opposed with each others' way of life. But an alliance once existed between them long ago and that alliance crushed their enemies without warning.

It was substantially unusual and horrifying for the other galactic powers, when they saw Astartes, super-human soldiers, leading a squad of Fire Warriors across the battlefield or even seeing devoted Inquisitors side by side with Ethereals, shouting litanies of inspiration to their respective hosts, but the alliance was true and devastating to all who opposed them.

When the war was over, the empires parted ways, seeing that neither can gain anything from another war that would decide the sole dominion of the galaxy. The Tau promptly declared their desire to leave the Milky Way when the last of the enemy bastions were leveled. The Imperium gladly accepted and respected their decision, and allowed the Tau Empire to leave the galaxy in search of their own.

And so in the 500th year of the 55th millennium, the Imperium of Man was the sole galactic power in the Milky way and Humanity has achieved its manifest destiny and made their immortal ruler proud. 

But it wasn't enough. Before long, massive crusades were launched and now the Imperium of Man wants to conquer the universe itself..

In the midst of this impossible endeavor, the High Lords, the most powerful men in the Imperium, proposed and accepted to abolish the old Codex Astartes. It was a rulebook that was published by Roboute Guilliman, the Ultramarines’ Primarch. In it were rules and regulations that made sure that no man or organization for that matter, could control an army that could topple the Imperium; the very act his brother, Horus, succeeded in doing whilst under the influence of Chaos.

Their reason for the abolishment was the fact that Chaos, has been “tamed”after the War of the Damned, and rebellions caused by heretical cults and daemonic incursions have decreased to almost nil in the last two centuries. All the Imperium's war machines must swell in number in order to achieve their goals and the Adeptus Astartes were not exempted.

The move angered the entire order of the Emperor's chosen. 

A semi-autonomous entity in their own right, the Adeptus Astartes or the Angels of Death have stood guard against the heretic, the mutant, and the xeno since time immemorial, and the action of invalidating one of the most significant tomes that has aided them in their endeavors, was tantamount to betrayal. 

The doors of the Senatorum Imperialis or the chamber of the High Lords, never stood a chance when the Chapter Masters destroyed them in their anger. Entering the chamber, they demanded the reinstatement of the Codex Astartes to which the High Lords flatly refused. A two day argument ensued thereafter and only ended when Marneus Calgar, then Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, stormed out of the Senatorum with a rage that could quell a rebellion. The rest of the Chapter Masters followed suit and left Terra, disheartened and dishonored.

The day after, the High Lords realized they had made a mistake. Atop of their headquarters, they stared with horrified eyes as the remains of the Orbital Defenses surrounding Terra plummeted towards the surface, heralding the rain of metal that carried legions of immortals.

Imperial Guard regiments that number to trillions swarmed immediately around the outskirts of the Imperial Palace, while armoured columns and venerable Titans brought their intimidating presence and destructive weapons to bare, daring the Astartes to challenge their might as the first of the drop pods hurtled from the sky.

But for all their power, number and preparedness, they were fooled. The Chapter Masters were grand strategists of thousands of frontiers and fooling a defense force of innumerable strength, was not a daunting task. With limited but lethal warriors at their disposal, they cut off the head of the Imperium's forces in one daring move.

Beaming one thousand seven hundred terminators within the Senatorum's walls, they killed all who denied them the High Lords and kidnapped them at gunpoint. The PDF only realized their folly when they found the drop pods empty and when the Senatorum ignited before their eyes. 

The most powerful men in the Imperium were now at the mercy of the Chapter Masters aboard the Octavius, save for the Captain General of the Adeptus Custodes, as the former left immediately when he saw the hulks of the destroyed orbital platforms. Talks of punishment soon began and the fate of the High Lords seemed inevitable. But as the final verdict was yet to be decided, the other war machines of the Imperium made their presence known. Appearing in the same fashion as the fleet of the Astartes, the Imperial Navy, the Inquisition and the Adepta Sororitas converged on the fleet of the Space Marines with their batteries armed and ready, demanding the release of the High Lords and their immediate surrender.

The armies of the Imperium knew the outcome of this stand-off and both knew that the Imperium could not survive another civil war. But just when either fleets could decide on what to do, two companies of the ancient custodian guards of the Emperor, beamed themselves on each of the two factions' flagships, forcing a cease fire.

It is, as usual, unknown as to what prompted the Custodes to take action but after their sudden appearance, the Astartes surrendered, the High Lords were released and the Imperium was spared from the impending war.

After the events, the Adeptus Astartes were pardoned and were allowed to leave Terra unharmed, under an authority that surpassed the ones bestowed upon every High Lord and the Inquisition. The Chapter Master's were then ordered by the same authority to make another codex, one that can handle and organize an army the size of the Imperial Guard. The Chapter Masters, Marneus Calgar in particular, obeyed without the slightest hint of mutinous intent and with that, the Codex Exercitus came to be.

The Codex Exercitus centered on teachings and organizations befitting colossal armies; it even contained the one guideline that the chapters must strive to achieve in the next ten centuries: “All Space Marine Chapters must have no less than one billion battle brothers.” 

And so for a time, the Chapter Masters trained the initiates that numbered to a tenth of a hive spire's population. Prominent heroes and individuals within each chapter were also doing their part, one particular was an ancient known throughout the galaxy as Bjorn the Fell Handed. The other war machines of the Imperium temporarily replaced the roles of the Astartes, so that they can focus all their energy and time in accomplishing this difficult task set upon them by the Emperor.

It was during the year 576 of the 56th millennium that finally, the eighteen chapters emerged with the size that could rival several regiments of the Imperial Guard. With their goals reached, the Chapter Masters visited Terra and informed the High Lords of their success. The Chapters were then christened and were never called chapters again because of their colossal sizes. Thus they were now called as they were before the great civil war- legions and as a whole, the Adeptus Exercitus.​

*
Ultima Segmentum
World: Maccrage 
M59 Year 990
“A gathering.”*​

A monumental door of silver and twenty kilotons of iron ore, stood in the semi darkness, flanked by mountain walls of the Maccragean peaks. It was intimidating and awe inspiring to any who would lay their eyes upon it, its smooth and impeccable quality was a testament to that. Gold, diamonds, amber, rubies, gems and many other priceless materials anyone would kill for, were welded on its surface and arranged meticulously to form an image of the Primarchs in their peaks of majesty: standing proud and victorious over their lost brothers' corpses.

The epitome of fidelity. This is what the image showed. That even in the midst and in the face of Chaos, the loyal Primarchs persevered to show their love for their Father and his Imperium. An image of pure inspiration that is sought widely by converts, initiates and pilgrims alike, next of course to the Imperial Palace and the shrines of the Primarchs themselves. 

Legion serfs would prowl its surface everyday, administering gallons of polishing solutions to make it glimmer like a star and blinding some of the pilgrims who ambled to close. But, as it is revered by many devout followers of the Emperor, it is also desired by thieves who are brave enough to risk the legion's wrath. So it comes to no surprise to any citizen when they see two colossal dreadnoughts of the Ultramarines Legion guard it ceaselessly.

But tonight though, sixty eight hulking warriors joined them in their vigil. Warriors who stood side-by-side in front of the two automatons, never moving a muscle, save for the steady rise and fall of their massive chests where golden two headed eagles glistened in the semi darkness. From these Aquilas, a network of eye catching luminescence sprouted from each of their wings, dividing further throughout their armours like miniature highways that revealed rows of tiny metallic plates that composed the entirety of the nigh indestructible suit. 

Such addition in detail gave the armours an interesting appearance that came close to a work of art, something no doubt, the Mechanicum would agree upon. Heavily ornamented daemonhammers were cradled by their monstrous crackling gauntlets, as they meditated over and over, one of the simple litanies of the Terminatus Brigadium:

_“Duty is a blessing bestowed upon thee by the Emperor. Cherish it well, for every one that is accomplished, is an act of complete obedience to him who is Master of Mankind.”_

On the other side of the doors, eighteen individuals are discussing the same thing, albeit on a universal scale.​ 

++​
“With the last Legio Bellus Praeterium, our numbers within the Imperius Primaris have decreased to below eighty percent. Are the High Lord's even aware of this?” a booming voice echoed across a large expansive domed chamber. Eighteen giants sat around a magnificent oak table located in the middle of it, where a holomap of the entire Milky Way was hovering. Brass chairs supported the commander-in-chief of each legion and provided them with arm rests enveloped in high quality animal fur for comfort, though quite unnecessary because their arms were covered in adamantium. 

“Expansion brother, is all that fills the recesses of their pitiful minds. The day they start caring for the Exercitus is the day Chaos itself kneels before the Emperor.” a cool and melancholic voice answered him. The owner had a pallid complexion which was paradoxical to his eyes that were shrouded in shadow and was wearing a white robe the size of five men and his power armour underneath was dark green. He was peeking underneath the table when he was accosting his fellow commander, finding the quality of the carpet that draped the floor more interesting than the heated discussion. A portion of the insignia of his legion was peeking at the edge of his right sleeve, a sword with angelic wings for its hilt. 

“Surely they have come to notice it? The commander hammered his gauntlet in anger and his patrician face, riddled with battle scars, contorted in annoyance. A fist emblem on his right shoulder pad stood prominently under the holo light. “The Galacticus Capitae is not the only source of expedition fleets. There are also warriors in the other four, unless they allow us to go beyond the limit like before.” 

“There will be no more changes Warmund. The Emperor's word is law and absolute. You know that as well as I do.” the voice silenced Warmund Gallus of the Imperial Fists and made him face the owner. All of them, save for the leader of the Dark Angels, mimic his action and looked at the Legion Commander Militant who was sitting in the far corner of the table. He a had the Maccragean quality in regards to his appearance and his blond hair was strikingly well treated. His armour was electric blue and his insignia had a a skull and an ornate upturned omega beneath it.

“But Sigismund, if the High Lords don't stop, our forces will continue to shrink and the perils of intergalactic travel, are also a considerable factor that we should take into account.” the Imperial Fist commander reached out in front of him where a trapdoor on the table opened and offered him a set of buttons and switches. They tweaked and beeped at his touch and immediately the holomap of the Milk Way shrank and the entire Imperium was displayed in front of them. Five galaxies all in all, and the Imperial Aquila glowed brightly on top of them. 

Between the galaxies were scarlet dots, emerald rods and irregular shapes that give off a purplish hue. 

“The remnants of Hivefleet Tyranus Sigismund” Warmund pointed at the dots. “are still prowling the expanses between the galaxies and have done so ever since the thirteenth dealt them a crippling blow. The Vos Natals and the Kyrintors.” he pointed at the rods and irregular shapes. “Are attacking the west and south quadrants of the capitae with surprising tactics that we've never seen before, claiming dozens of ships and millions of personnel in the past three months. This just proves that we cannot allow our forces to dwindle any further.” 

“I agree and what if one them, though unlikely but still possible, could breach the Adeptus Aegis's fleet? said another legion commander, with a face much like that of a statue and had a set of penetrating auburn eyes as he gestured his hands animatedly; a white raven was painted on his shoulder pad. “I doubt the Imperium could stand firm against enemies like the life sucking xenos and the mother of all swarms. The crusades are just pointless. ” 

“Do you honestly believe that the fleets of the Aegis to be that weak?” a legion commander, encased in emerald power armour, retorted with annoyance in every word.

“Atellus, do not think that Flavion is underestimating the guard's or the navy's capabilities in defending the Imperium. He is merely being realistic.” another legion commander raised his crimson fist and calmed the legion commander of the Salamanders with the pat of his hand.

“And base on that presumption, the Exercitus must not permit itself to be spread thinly across the universe. It is simply too big, even for us.” the white armoured legion commander beside Atellus spoke, a bolt of red lightning was painted on his shoulder pad.

“All the same Regis. That is why I have called upon this conclave to discuss these matters. But whatever we decide on must not contradict the words of the Emperor.” said Sigismund.

“Here here.” said a black armoured legion commander beside Warmund. He had a black ancient Greek cross across a pallid background for his insignia.

“Have you already found the solution then Sigismund?” a heavily armoured and ornamented legion commander asked, his eyebrows raised in doubt. “You indeed have called upon this conclave but said nothing up til now.”

“Victus. Sigismund was already planning on telling us. Why did you have to ruin his moment?” a sly sneer broke across the face of the legion commander on the other far corner of the table. His insignia was that of a drop of blood with angelic wings that shone brightly underneath the glow of the holomap. 

Like the Dark Angels commander, the leader of the Blood Angels have long since diverted his attention away from Sigismund the moment he read his mind, and immersed himself instead, on the decor of the chamber. Apparently the painting of the Ultramarines' Primarch on the wall opposite him, gave him all the distraction he needed. 

“As always Lucius, and Victus, your intuitiveness astounds me.”

“What is it then? What's the solution?” another commander, opposite Sigismund leaned closer, clearly intrigued. A pair of scythes on his shoulder pad glowed under the hololight too.

Sigismund didn't reply but instead turned slowly to his left and addressed the legion commander sitting beside him. He was clad in deep red power armour and a black raven was painted on his light colored shoulder pad.

“Lanfreid, can I request for the presence of one of your librarians?”

“Of course.” the legion commander's voice echoed loudly despite his gentle response. “But don't keep us from the dark any further Sigismund, we have more important matters to attend to.” the Blood Raven commander accessed his microbead and subconsciously ordered one of his Librarians to teleport on the planet.

“Trust me brother. This, _display_ will eventually bring our problems to an end.”​

*Segmentum Solar
World: Holy Terra
M59 Year 990
“A shadow lurks towards the capital”
*​

The distant glow of a star went through a ship's hull, floating in the middle of the suffocating vacuum. It's dimensions were similar to that of an insectoid's pincers and its whole frame was utterly smooth and transparent. It was a very strange ship, for there were no signs of it being propelled by any engine as it literally moved of its own accord across the vacuum. 

Its path and destination, were taking it far too close to the collection of gargantuan battleships that seemed to span an entire quadrant and beyond. Every ship had an Aquila engraved on their prow, their batteries on the broadside and starboard were opened and their colossal Nova cannons glowed ominously, ever ready to release their volley that could obliterate millions in a blink of an eye.

The ship has wandered foolishly into the outskirts of the most well-protected planetary system within the Imperium, the Solaris System; where a bulwark is always stationed to repel any upcoming invaders. It is in this system that the two of the most important planets in the empire are located: Mars, the bright red planet of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Holy Terra, now the shadow of its former beauty, the capital of the human empire and the home of its immortal ruler.

A xeno would think that this amount of security is incredulous but how could a xeno understand? This the Imperium of Man, and the center of it all is the Emperor, beloved by all.

But whoever was piloting the invisible ship, didn't care and it made its intentions clear when it slipped through the fleet like a small animal through a fence, without so much as a lasgun stopping it.

By the time the ship hovered above Luna, it has avoided the detection of the second bulwark, stationed near Jupiter and the thousands of defensive platforms that enveloped Mars, not to mention the squadrons of Fury Interceptors that patrolled every quadrant between the orbiting planets. 

It jettisoned four unseen pods unto Terra before a rift in reality opened and swallowed the whole ship.​
++​
Entering the atmosphere, the pods descended towards Terra with the speed that could match an asteroid. They were mysteriously never engulfed by flames despite their acceleration and suddenly changed their trajectory towards the continent where the Imperial Palace was located. 

The pods passed garrisons, factories of war, some of the Ecclesiarchy’s cathedrals and even massive planetary batteries along the way. But none could detect them. Not even when they pierced the perimeters of the Outer and Inner Palace.

Then they stopped; barely inches away from the roof of the Sanctum Imperialis, despite the fact that they were hurtling close to the speed of sound. The pods lightly settled themselves on the roof and moved no more.

A wisp of smoke slowly slithered its way out of one the invisible pods. Their hatches opened abruptly and more smoke came out. A pair of heavy footsteps suddenly broke the silence on the roof and three more followed. A low whisper then came in its wake.

Though security was heavy layered, especially if it concerns the Sanctum Imperialis, not one alarm has alerted the sentinels to the four intruders that were now walking casually across the roof. 

One of them stopped and slowly raised one of his unseen arms. A holographic map with a reddish hue of the Sanctum Imperialis instantly appeared on his wrist. He motioned the three to come closer and they did so. When they were huddled around him, he raised one of his fingers and pointed it at the Golden Throne…​


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## Commissar Ploss (Feb 29, 2008)

i must say mate, you hold me completely mesmerized. :shok: this is really good reading, and a great rewrite. I soooo can't wait for the next part. 

a few things. perhaps, "Humongous Nova cannons" isn't the right phrase. perhaps colossal? 

and also

"But whoever is piloting the invisible ship, didn't care and it made its intentionss clear when it slipped through the fleet like a small animal through a fence, without so much as a lasgun stopping it." 

mixing tenses here in this sentence, you start out with "is" (present) and then say "made" (past). Also, "intentionss" is wrong, should have only one "s". 

otherwise, i'm really really really impressed! :biggrin: you have worked really hard on the rewriting. I'm proud to have this story in the Original Works section. 

great stuff mate, i can't wait to read more. :victory:

CP


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## Kale Hellas (Aug 26, 2009)

awesome work


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Tnx for the praises CP and Kale!!...

@CP: You're right... Humongous doesn't sound right.... Can't imagine why I haven't thought of "colossal" from the start...

"Intensionss" was a typho... Hehe... Sorry... 

About the mixing tenses, yeah, I shouldn't have done that....

Tnx again...

Cheers!....


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## greywulf (Dec 21, 2009)

Absolutely gripping stuff!

Iam looking forwrd to the next section, i really enjoy this type of stuff, 50,60,70k (ok, ive not seen the last one done!), I find it interesting when ficers come up with interesting future canon!

Keep Writing!


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## Nikolai (Mar 16, 2010)

Well that was quite something, certainly it was either provocative or maybe inflamatory or simply heretical... I can't decide. In anycase none of that stopped it being a bloody brilliant read.

So now the CC:

What tense are you writing in? Past or present, you tend to leap from one to the other in a random sort of way.



> And, if it takes a million universe to accomplish our tasks, we will do so.


Okay so that's universe plural?



> But it wasn't enough. Before long, massive crusades were launched and now the Imperium of Man wants to conquer the universe itself..


And that's universe singular. Is there just the one or are there in fact many, or is this something the story discusses later?



> The Tau promptly declared their desires to leave the Milky Way when the last of the enemy bastions were leveled.





> The Imperium gladly accepted and respected their decisions, and allowed the Tau Empire to leave the galaxy in search for their own.


These "s"'s aren't needed.



> The Imperium gladly accepted and respected their decisions, and allowed the Tau Empire to leave the galaxy in search for their own.


Really it should be either, " in a search for their own." or "in search of their own."



> the very act his brother, Horus, succeeded in doing so under the influence of Chaos.


That "so" simply confuses this sentence, I recommend either, "the very act his brother, Horus, succeeded in doing under the influence of Chaos." or "the very act his brother, Horus, succeeded in doing whilst under the influence of Chaos." And did he succeed, the Imperium's accepted version of "history" would probably disagree.



> the action to rid themselves of one of the most significant tomes that has aided them in their endeavors


This part of the sentence makes it sound like the Space Marines are trying to rid temselves of the Codex. But your plot is saying the High Lords are attempting to rid them (the Space Marines) of the Codex?



> The doors of the Senatorum Imperialis or the chamber of the High Lords, never stood a chance when the Chapter Masters destroyed them in their anger.


Call it being picky but wouldn't this in iself constitute a declaration of war?



> Marneus Calgar, then Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, stormed out of the Senatorum with a rage that could quell a rebellion.


This isn't criticism, I love the irony in that description.



> The day after, the High Lords soon realized they had made a mistake.


Really don't need the "soon" but could use the "had".



> Beaming one thousand seven hundred terminators within the Senatorum's walls, they killed all who denied them the High Lords and kidnapped them at gunpoint.


I doubt that such a thing would work, I mean it's the single most fortified structure in the Imperium besides maybe the forges of Mars, I should imagine voidshileds or teleport scramblers would be in place. Otherwise Horus should've given that approach some thought it worked on Ullanor.



> It is, as usual, unknown as to what prompted the custodeses to take action


The "es" on custodes is unnecessary.



> the High Lords were/are released and the Imperium was spared from the impending war.


Either "were" or "are" would complete the sentence depending on the tense you want to use.



> Gold, diamonds, amber, rubies, gems and many other priceless materials anyone would kill for, were welded on its surface


Wouldn't the imperfections caused by such a process as welding stones to metal stop the door having a smooth texture?



> Legion serfs would prowl its surface everyday, administering gallons of polishing solutions to make it glimmer like a star and blinding some of the pilgrims who ambled to close.





> From these Aquilas, a network of eye catching luminescence sprouted from each of their wings, dividing further throughout their armours like miniature highways that revealed rows of tiny metallic plates composing the entirety of the nigh indestructible suit.


Just a random suggestion really but I think "that composed" would smooth out this rather long and unwieldy sentence.



> they recited one of the simple litanies of the Terminatus Brigadium in silence


How can they recite (usually by singing or speaking) the litanies without breaking the silence?

There are a few instances were you fail to use closing speech marks and a few other minor typos in this section. But generally it's good, though there are a lot of chracters to keep track of.



> It's dimensions were similar to that of an insectoid's pincers and its whole frame was utterly smooth and see through.


Transparent would be an easier way to phrase it for reading, purely suggestion there's nothing grammatically wrong with your original word choice.



> it literally moved on its own accord


"of its own accord" it's yet another picky point but I usually find they are the ones that catch peoples' eyes.



> Its path and destination were unknown


This sentence seems to contradict this one:



> A holographic map with a reddish hue of the Sanctum Imperialis instantly appeared on his wrist. He motioned the three to come closer and they did so. When they were huddled around him, he raised one of his fingers and pointed it at the Golden Throne…


They seem to know exactly where they are? The first statement can't really refer to the Imperial pov because they don't even know its there nevermind where it is or where it may be going...



> The ship has lingered foolishly into the outskirts of the most well-protected planetary system within the Imperium


To linger means to stay in the same place for a reasonable period of time, I think you meant wandered.



> suddenly changed their path of trajectory


The sentence would read better without those words imo.

And that's my CC done. I really do like the story, I know I've been picky but you did ask for it:



> The nastier the better


I am looking forward to seeing where you take this, its fantastical, but it's also genius. :grin:


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

@Nikolai: FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:victory:.... WOW!!!!... Now that's what I call NASTY!!!!!.... 

Call me weird but I was really waiting for someone like you to cite the mistakes I made... And men, I'm happy!... Hahaha... 

No one had the guts to seriously critique my original piece back then, either they thought I knew what I was doing or were just plain lazy... 

Well anyway...

I wish I could REP you.. But I have to spread it first... Feck!.... Hahaha...

Cheers!...


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

@Nikolai: About the Chapter Masters destroying the doors of the Senatorum Imperialis...

Call it rude, call it blasphemy, call it heresy... But the fact remains that the Astartes are an irreplaceable asset to the Imperium... 

So base on that, I am not wrong to say that the High Lords were willing to look the other way when the door of their chamber was blasted off its hinges. All for the sake of universal conquest:victory:...



And the terminators that were beamed into the Senatorum Imperialis.. 

As I mentioned in the story, the Chapter Masters were grand strategists... 

So why would you think that the plan was one layered? A simple one with no preemptive steps?... 



The gold and other materials that were welded on the door... 

It's the 60th millennium... Surely they would have some devices that could erase those imperfections....



So that's that... My answers and reactions to some of your questions... 

Cheers mate!...


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## Chaosrider (Feb 3, 2010)

amazing, truly amazing. makes a bit more sense than the original and imo written better (duh it's a rewrite..) i would give you some CC, but i'm an idiot in most areas about writing a story like this, i just read them


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## Nikolai (Mar 16, 2010)

waltzmelancholy_07...

I am glad you appreciated the comments, I would REP you but I seem to be unable to give anyone more than zero... I think I must have missed something...:blush:



> So that's that... My answers and reactions to some of your questions...


All fair enough, now the next part...


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## Bane_of_Kings (Oct 28, 2009)

great chapter, can't wait for more. Looks totally awesome.


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## Legio Custode (May 20, 2009)

Waltz more please, i have to say that the recent stories have been very good starts!


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## the_unchanged (Nov 17, 2009)

Really enjoying this Waltz!

Havent read it all yet so in depth crit will need to wait but I'm very interested to see what kind of forces could threaten the now super massive Imperium and realm of the tau!

The narrative style you employ is really interesting and I love the quotes at the start.

I'll be keepin an eye on this!


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## Boc (Mar 19, 2010)

Interesting take on the future, Waltz, +rep for good shite


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

*Chapter 2*

Reasons for the late update:
Writer's block...
Rewrites...
And real life...

Cheers....


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

*Chapter 2...*

*
Chapter II

“The most trusted soldiers of the Imperium are fearless
Protecting the Emperor with steadfast bravery...
But theses assassins will instill unto these Custodes
A realization that will tear at their sanity…”​*

*Location: Sanctum Imperialis
M59 Year 990
“An unknown breach”*


An ethereal orb of light was glowing eerily on top of a heavily ornate pyramid, dousing the kilometer wide throne room with its necrotic radiance. Far and wide, everything was touched by its overwhelming spotlight: pillars, ornaments, priceless jewels on every surface imaginable and even the fog that draped the floor glistened like silk under its gaze. The orb was the perfect replica of the Astronomican, the beacon of psychic energy that constantly pierces the realms of the Immaterium. It served as the main light source for the sanctum and an accentuating element for the man sitting underneath it.

He was the ruler of the Imperium and has been so for the last thirty thousand years; near-death and bound by the colossal structure that he sat on which was the Golden Throne. Untold septillions worshiped Him as a god, legions of flesh and automatons launch crusade in His name and thousands of fleets relied on His unparalleled mind to project the beacon across the Immaterium and throughout His entire universal empire. 

Though perceived as the most powerful human to date, the Emperor of Man can not perform the meager task of protecting himself.

All these past centuries, assassins of every form and size sought his death. After His internment, the risks and dangers have increased and he was locked away forever inside the Sanctum Imperialis to protect His well being. The Emperor was the Imperium and His safety was of great importance, even from his own zealous subjects; the Lupercal’s betrayal was evident enough. Out of all the Custodes that knew this truth, none could be more intimate with it than those of the Companions.

They never left the Emperor's presence, not even for a moment or an instance during those thirty thousand years. Their duty was heavy and one that was demanding of all and that was to personally protect the Emperor. An ordinary citizen or even an immortal could not comprehend the scale of the responsibility nor could he even cope with the reality of its consequences should he fail – one could just not. 

And the warrior who stood in front of the Emperor’s remains, at the zenith of the golden monolith, knew too well about the hardship that each of them faced.

He was draped in the assortments that he and his comrades have resigned to ever since the Emperor’s internment: leather breeches of the finest materials, boots of jet black, a cloak made from a collection of dark exotic silk and an ancient spear with inlaid markings of eagles and lightnings on its staff. His torso was laid bare, bulging with muscles as hard as steel and his dark skin was littered with numerous tattoos which told of a past long forgotten but cherished by the ancients of the Exercitus. The images were a mixture of the same markings on his spear, motifs and famous lines of the forgotten Imperial Truth and a crux of a flaming sword and a phoenix on the center of his chest. But out of all this biological artistry, once stood out prominently like a ruby among sapphires, it was a tattoo on his forehead: a skull with an “I” on its temple and was situated over a pair of wreath of leaves and encircled entirely by a ring.

The Custode’s name was Siarel Vanus, and by the intriguing tattoo on his forehead, it declared to any in the Adeptus Custodes that he was the Chief Centurion, overall commander of the Companions. The full weight of the responsibility falls directly on his shoulders, and it was a burden he has embraced ever since Constantine Valdor passed the mantle onto him. Fifteen squads of the elite among elites obey his every command, and not even the most daring of Chaos commanders would dare trespass him. 

All throughout these millennia he has stood motionless and steadfast, subjecting every shadow, every contour movement of the mist and every mind that wanders too close to the Eternity Gate under his stern and ever watchful psyche. So far, there was no catalyst.

_“The dusts and mists are but the cover of thy enemies.”_ he thought.

A voice chuckled within his mind _“Reciting old verses now are we?”_

_“Just killing time by brooding Fluvian.”_ Siarel replied and shifted his weight to on of his legs.

_“Brooding may cost you your life.”_ Fluvian replied.

_“As long as my thoughts revolve around notion of protecting Him then I died with my duty done.”_

_“Touche. Well then, my Chief Centurion. Brood as you wish.”_ Fluvian replied then went silent, leaving the sonorous whispers of the light, the only company of Siarel.

Fluvian, the Phoenix. Centurion of the Second squad and bearer of ten thousand names. Knew Constantine Valdor personally and was an acquaintance of Rogal Dorn, one of the Sons of the Emperor. Siarel held the fellow centurion in the highest respects among his fellow commanders, especially when Fluvian, to him, was more suited to be the Chief Centurion. 

_“Why Constantine? Why me and not him?”_ he thought.

Empyric ripples have suddenly blossomed within his mind, pushing any trivial thoughts away. Instincts took over as the ripples were analyzed over and over within his psyche. 

_“Blood?”_ Fluvian asked from the shadows. 

After a few seconds, Siarel's muscles flexed and bulged like pistons of a war machine readying for battle. _“No, preys...”_

Siarel drew breath, waking his throat from a deep sleep as he did so, and the feeling was like shards of glass being forced down through his esophagus. He gripped his guardian spear a little harder than usual and mentally wrestled with the failure his order has committed. The breach was a testament to their laxity. 

But as ever this failure inevitably brings an opportunity in amending that mistake: killing them. With the Emperor in their presence, the necessity and drive in nullifying that mistake is multiplied a million times over. 

“Who dares enter the Sanctum Imperialis without the Emperor’s consent?” Siarel eventually spoke, his voice magnified by a millennia’s worth of silence.

There was no reply but a sudden drop of temperature plunged the sanctum in near sub zero degrees, freezing the molecules of his breath as they exited his nose. Then-

“We.” a cold and steely voice replied. 

From the mist, four spiraling columns of vapor shot through the air. Twisting madly like a tornado and rising twenty more feet off the ground. Then suddenly the mist dispersed, revealing four intruders standing under the Eternity Gate’s looming frame. Dark gun metal gray armour covered their frames. Strange calligraphy and images of heavenly bodies dominated the surfaces of their chain mail and their eyes were like lumiglobes as they stared straight into Siarel’s own. He gazed back but their weapons were hard to ignore: a scythe, a hammer, a twin headed ax and a trident, all fashioned in a way that would delight any twisted Eldar.

“We dare enter without consent.” the emotionless voice spoke again, as if disembodied.

Siarel said nothing. There was no need of a reply, everything from that point on was purely instinctive. 

An earsplitting crack echoed across the throne room, but the five didn’t even flinch. It was then followed quickly with the thunder of stones as the ten pillars nearest to the Golden Throne splintered to a million pieces, racking the sanctum with more deafening sound and overlapping echoes that masked the charge of nearly two hundred Companions as they emerged from the dust.

_“Prove your worth, My arch-commanders...”_ Siarel thought. _“Anoun, the Elder. Glaucus the Redeemer, Ferminion. the Cunning, and Antigonus, the Wrathful.”_

_“Yes lord!”_ the arch-commanders replied.

_“Anoun, the Elder”_ the Companion thought about his title as he glided along the floor. He was clad in the same assortments as his commander, just as all of them were, the only difference was the tattoo on his forehead, it had the image of the Emperor surrounded by Aquillas that formed a hexagonal shape. _“It has been so long since....”_

_“It has my friend.”_ replied Ferminion running to his right, Anoun turned to look at him and Ferminion looked back and nodded. His tattoo was different too, a heptagon composed of Aquillas interconnected by trinities.

_“Too long”_ Glaucus interjected who was amidst his own subordinates, his was the same as Anouns only it was a decagon.

_“Let us be done with it!”_ Antigonus, who was in the lead, scolded them, his tattoo on the other hand, was the same as Siarel's, the letters XIII were printed on the skull.

The three fell silent. Antigonus the Wrathful, bearer of eight hundred names, barely a few liked his tactless remarks and zealous attitude that bordered on the insane but the three were one of those few. 

_“By the love of the Emperor and everything that is holy, let our oaths be nullified and souls be forgiven”_ they chanted in unison.

In response, the tattoos on their foreheads glowed and a metal headband slowly formed. Next, overlapping plates erupted from it and proceeded to form the ancient armours of the Companions and changed the colors of their capes as they charged.

_“Lightning Eagle!”_ Siarel commanded in his mind just as his own armour was finished assembling itself.

The two hundred split into four groups like a flock of wraiths at the unspoken order of their commander, creating swirls in the mists as they did so. Three groups formed a spear tip, one center and two wings with Antigonus leading the center and Glaucus and Ferminion leading the flanks. The fourth group fell back and arranged themselves into a loose formation, as Anoun, along with the Chief Centurion, watched.

Siarel watched as his Companions surged forward like a wave of death as the assassins awaited them at the Sanctum's gateway.

40 meters, the spear tip charged unimpeded. 

30 meters, the assassins still stood like statues. 

_“Glaucus. Ferminion, the flanks.”_ said Anoun.

20 meters, the wings, led by their Arch-Commanders detached from the center and proceeded to go for the assassin’s flanks. 

10 meters, the assassins finally broke from their trance and raised their weapons.

The scythe assassin stepped forward and swung his weapon in a wide arc, slicing the air but no Companion was in reach. The weapon instead, released a wide arc of screaming plasma that soared towards the Companions of the center phalanx. The Custodes never paused in their charged and avoided it like serpents, leaving only a hair’s breadth of distance to let the boiling matter pass them.

Following their comrade’s actions, the other assassins unleashed their own volleys as well and kept the charging bulk of the Companions at bay. 

“Don't let them stall the advance!” shouted Antigonus as he continued to ran towards the assassins, followed swiftly by his phalanx.

“For the Emperor!” Glaucus leap and brought his spear down. The assassin armed with the hammer met the attack with a parry. He turned and caught Glaucus in the stomach with a kick. 

“ARGH!” Glaucus staggered back and roared in pain.

A shadow loomed over him and he looked up. The assassin was in the air like a bird of prey, weapon raised. 

His mind instantly calculated the descent of the enemy and the speed by which the weapon could fall. Judging it by the angle of the limbs and the way the arms are bent, he concluded that he only had 1/100th of a second to live. 

_Not long enough to recite a prayer. _

Before he could surrender to his faith however, an unexpected variable in the equation, in the form of a flying guardian spear, tipped the calculations to his favor.

The spear knocked the hammer away, a mere inch from his head as it did so, followed by a roaring Antigonus.

“I am his shield! Yield to the living bulwark!” the Companion hailed the assassin with a corpus of attacks as the rest of his phalanx hurried after him.

Glaucus searched for his spear as the rest of his phalanx aided that of Antinogus', only for Ferminion to offer it to him during the endeavor.

“Our Lord protects.” Glaucus remarked and took hold of his spear.

“I missed.” Ferminion replied.

“It was you?” Glaucus asked.

“Who else? And besides, I was aiming for his head.” 

“Age has truly caught up with you.” Glaucus readied himself. “Although I'm thankful that that fact saved me.”

“Too right you are.” the two then surged forward with a plethora of war cries erupting from their mouths.

_"Hmmm…”_ Siarel was minutely impressed as he remained standing a good distance away. The echoes of the battle reached his heightened ears as he continued to watch it unfold. It has been ten minutes since the first wave acted upon the intrusion and yet they still were. This was unexpected- that in itself, thought Siarel, was a testament but it has to end.

_“Aim and fire”_ he ordered.

The spear tip dispersed like ghosts when they heard the command, and the 4th group, who have used the clash as a diversion for surrounding the assassins, raised their weapons like a firing squad.

“Fire!” Anoun shouted.

And the guardian spears erupted. The assassins showed little surprise when their enemies left them and were even so at the volley of vaporizing death. They didn't moved an inch or even a muscle. And when the first of the projectiles made contact, it only created a vortex of smoke. The rest of the volley followed suit but all it did was create holes in their bodies as if they were made from the very mists that draped the floor.

_“By the throne...”_ they all thought as the volleys kept passing through the assassins.

Siarel commanded a cease fire, and looked with utter disbelief at their unscathed foes.

The assassins stared back at the bewildered Companions. A bodiless voice laughed and as one, they slowly started walking forward towards the Golden Throne; parting the mist with every step. 

The Companions’ reaction was blinding. One second they were locked in their surprised stupor and in the next, they were all running towards the assassins to renew their attack, the 4th releasing another volley after their comrade’s advance. 

The assassin armed with the spear walked ahead of his comrades as soon as he saw the charge. He raised his weapon and thrust it forward but instead of plasma bolts erupting from its end, the weapon elongated with a speed that matched a bullet. 

“EVADE!” Anoun shouted. His squad obeyed at once but one of the Companions was caught by the accelerating spear tip. The blade tore through his chest plate and through his flesh and bone. 

The spear tip retreated back to its owner and the Companion collapsed to the floor. Siarel looked at the first casualty, his face cold and blank but they all can feel the surging anger from his mind. 

His Companions clashed with the assassins again.

_“Vermillion Beta!”_ Anoun ordered as they circled the assassin armed with the scythe.

The assassin swung and slice at the dancing wraiths around him, knocking a spear or two away and occasionally twirling it continuously along with his twisting form to create a circular barrier of decapitating death. A companion calculated the revolution of the blade and lunged at the assassin. He passed through the barrier with his spear ready to impale. The assassin quickly stepped aside and countered with a punch when the momentum of the Companion’s attack brought him too close.

The Companion reeled back, a trail of blood erupting from his fractured face. The last thing he saw was the glinting blade of the scythe as the assassin followed through and beheaded him. 

His body swayed headless before crumpling like a deck of cards while his fellow Companions continued their attack as if nothing happened.

The assassin armed with the hammer smashed his weapon down and a companion was pulped to the ground. He turned and swung his weapon, launching a pair towards the pillars that broke their backs. A dozen spears sought his death and he battled through them like a warrior possessed but his phlegmatic expression betrayed that persona. 

“For the love of the Emperor! Pin him DOWN!” Glaucus charged as he shouted and interlocked blades with the assassin again.

The ax and spear on the other hand sliced and skewered through their enemies with a skill that utterly nullified the Companions’ own. 

Sirael’s mind was reeling with waves of fury as scores of his Companions were being slaughtered like guardsmen in front of him. A strained metal sound then punctured the semi-silence that surrounded him as he gripped his spear to the brink of breaking it.

“By the throne, such a thing is impossible.” Siarel hissed.

_“The second wave must act now.”_ a voice of one of the Companions entered his psyche. 
_
Second wave? How did it come to this?_ Siarel thought with a pang fury and guilt.

_“Do it.”_ he replied.

The statues on the lowest part of the Golden Throne cracked and crumbled to pieces, the second wave stepped out of the rubble and rushed to aid the 1st. 

_“Sixty, dead. Ephraim will pay for his laxity.”_ he thought.

It was like a battle of the old legends of Terra, Anoun thought. Mythical titan deities fighting their hated Olimpyan cousins but with the difference that the titans were winning. Horrid looking weapons swung here and there and guardian spears intercepted their paths to block and parry. Ten more have died but with the addition of the 2nd wave, most of the 1st have taken the role of reserves while the fresh reinforcements dueled with the assassins. 

Their quarries have not broken their advance towards the Golden Throne but the 2nd’s furious bulwark was slowing their progress.​​


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

*Chapter 2_a*



Suddenly the spear assassin thrust his weapon again, driving the Companions of Anoun away but his intent as the Companions noticed was not to kill. Siarel’s attention was brought instantly onto the surging weapon. The spear tip turned upwards and impaled itself on the ceiling, barely a hundred meters from the Golden Throne. The assassin retracted it but this time he was pulled towards the spear tip like a ragged doll. 

Nerve impulses suddenly overtook Siarel's body. With a jerk and command from his brain, he raised his weapon and fired at the spear tip. Plasma bolts soared just as the assassin reached the ceiling. The assassin pulled his spear free and used the momentum of his action to bat the plasma away. He crouched on the ceiling in the next second and pushed hard, propelling him through the air like a bullet towards Siarel. The Chief Centurion readied himself. The assassin contorted in mid-air and his weapon lanced ahead of him as he descended. 

Siarel anticipated and stabbed his spear on the ground, used it as a support to push his body in the air and kicked the shaft of the weapon just as it soared over him. It predictably went wild, skewered a pillar and missed the Emperor. 

Siarel landed just as the assassin did right in front of him, nose to nose and spear forgotten.

He jumped back, more on instinct than rationality, and screened the Emperor’s fragile body with his own massive frame. 

_“Impressive”_ a voice echoed and the assassin slowly unsheathed a claymore from a scabbard on his back. _“Very Impressive.”_

Siarel brought his weapon for a high guard. The assassin looked at him with a quizzical stare and vanished. Israel’s nerve impulses fired again and brought his arms up to block an attack aimed at the side of his head. The assassin froze when the attacked landed and looked at him again. Though the teleportation was quick and rich with witchcraft, Siarel didn’t sense anything daemonic at all. He twisted and kicked hard, catching the assassin in the gut, knocking his sword away in the process. The assassin rode the attack and somersaulted away while Siarel was hot on his heels ready to impale. His quarry landed on his hands and rotated his upturned body, knocking Siarel down with the swing of an armour clad boot. 

He staggered and spat a glob of blood as the assassin walked towards his weapon. 

_“What is your fear?”_ the voice spoke to him just as the assassin picked up his sword. 

Siarel didn’t answer as he readied himself and continued to calculate the best ways to bisect his enemy in two.

_“What is your fear?”_ it said again and the assassin vanished.

Siarel turned, raised his weapon and hurl it at his lord. The spear tip sang through the air and landed between the Emperor's neck and the assassin's blade. The assassin, now standing in front of the Emperor, faced the Chief Centurion but all he saw was the huge fist of Siarel that broke his neck when it collided. The assassin’s body contorted backwards like a mannequin cut off from its strings. Siarel ignored the throbbing of his knuckles as he continued and brought his leg straight up and slammed it hard on the assassin's neck. There was a sound of bones shattering as the head of the assassin collided with the gilded surface first and dented it. 

Siarel, breathing hard, stared coldly at the assassin’s remain with utter contempt. “I.... fear…. nothing.” he whispered between breaths.

He then limped away. _“Centurions alert the Captain-”_

_“Are you sure?” _the voice froze Siarel in mid sentence.

_“Impossible”_ he thought.

Behind him, the body was stirring. Disbelief and shock locked his head in place, refusing to look behind him in fear of being proven wrong. His attacks should have killed the assassin; his punch alone could have decapitated a daemon and the ax kick that followed possessed the same lethality. 

_“Impossible”_ Israel repeated and turned to face the assassin who stood there and was arranging his neck in place, producing sounds akin to bones breaking.

_“Yet, it is not.”_ the voice replied when the assassin finally fitted his head in place.

Siarel wasted no time, and lunged forward despite the complaining leg and brought a swinging right fist along with him. The assassin ducked but Siarel wasn’t really aiming to hit him. He pivoted and grabbed the lodged spear on his Lord’s chair and pulled it out with the momentum of his turn and swung hard. The assassin produced his claymore out of thin air and deflected the attack away. 

_“9th squad to the left and flank him. 11th and 10th go for the frontal attack now!” _

A series of affirmative answered Glaucus and executed his command in a blink of an eye, everything must be obeyed to the letter of his plan. 

Every Companion ran as if possessed, parting the mist and creating fissures on the marble floor as they charged. The assassins awaited them, amidst the remains of their fallen. Seventy have already died, and still the three assassins stood defiantly in their presence. But they managed to separate them from each other. 

They clashed again. 

The assassin raised his weapon and it enlarged. He slammed the gigantic hammer with the force of a titan and a shockwave rippled across the floor. The Companions of the 10th dispersed to their left when the wave hit them. The elements of the 11th slammed through the tremor. Seven of them were pulped by the force and it waned and allowed the rest of the 11th through. Twenty fierce and decapitating strikes landed on their target but the assassin was still erect and tracing them with his eyes as they turned and charge for another attack. 

Amidst his unmoving demeanor, the 10th grabbed their chance and rammed him from several directions. Spear tips made up of ancient adamantium and reinforced with metallic cores punched through the assassin, creating holes of smoke.

The assassin looked at the disbelieving faces of the 10th; examining each horrified face. He raised one of his hands and one by one, pushed them away. They heavily collided with the floor, with guardian spears lodged in their chests.

Plasma round raked at the assassin from behind. He faced the source of the volley and saw the elements of the 9th, releasing volleys of plasma. He turned to grab his hammer. 

“NOW!” Glaucus shouted and he let go. 

A whistling sound whispered through the air and a thundering weight crashed onto the assassin from above. A deafening sound of glass shattering echoed and dust and large pieces of marble flew in all directions. 

Glaucus and four Companions, haggard and spear tips broken, slowly rose from the crater created by their attack. 

One of them threw down his spear and reached for his gladius and checked the assassin in the middle of the pit. 

“My lord, he is dead.”

“Help the others.” Glaucus replied.

The four heeded his command as he spared one more look at the assassin and followed after them..

“In the name of the Empe-” Anoun shouted but never finished his sentence as another of his subordinates was sliced to pieces. The scythed was twirled around by the expert hands of the assassin as he observed the Companions surrounding him. They were calculating the revolutions of his blade, just like the eight of their brethren who tried and failed. 

Five Companions suddenly lunged. A blur of silver filled the eyes of the rest and the five were reduced to a heap of bleeding meat and soiled metal pieces but they fulfilled their purpose. The blade of the weapon was suddenly lodged on the floor, separated from its haft. The last image that filled the assassin’s eyes when he realized it was six dozen wraiths leaping to tear him to pieces.

“Hold him in place 5th squad!” shouted Ferminion.

The ax assassin was pinned with twenty wraiths battling him. All around him squads of Companions raised their weapons, aimed carefully and fired. All the bolts passed through the whirling warriors and the same could be said when they reached their target. 

“For the glory of the EMPEROR!” shouted Antigonus hailed the assassin with his furious attacks. 


Clang, clang, clang, spear and sword clashed with ferocity and cold precision. Feints and counter feints mingled with stabs and strikes. If anything, the body of the Emperor was just a foot away from the duel. It was only through Siarel’s mastery of the spear that the Imperium still had their lord. 

_“What is your fear?”_ the voice kept repeating amidst their exchange of blows.

Siarel didn’t answer. It was just a diversion and thus ignored it. He kicked, without realizing it was his aching leg. The assassin batted it away with a force of a punch.

Siarel released a pained gasped and crumpled to the floor.

_“Why do you not answer?”_ the assassin circled him. _“Your silence... is but the testament of conceding.”
_
Siarel froze for a millisecond and narrowly paid the price for it. Two quick swipes kissed the ends of his helmet as he ducked, rolled and swept the assassin off his feet. Siarel grabbed his fallen spear with haste. Raised it and stabbed.

The assassin kicked the attack away before rolling and standing up to face Siarel once more.

_“So you do have a fear.” _the assassin bent over and picked his sword, eyes fixed on the Chief Centurion.

_“I have no fear!”_ Siarel thought.

_“You do!” _and the assassin attacked him again.

“Enough with this!” Siarel roared and struck low.

The assassin countered with a deftly parry and attack in the next second. Siarel pulled his spear and blocked the attack that would have cleaved his head in two. He lashed out again and the assassin evaded it and jumped back.

_“Why...... Siarel?”_ the voice asked him, how did he know my name? _“There is no harm in admitting the truth.”_

_“What I say is the truth.”_ Siarel attacked.

_“The truth?”_ the voice chuckled and parry his spear away. _“Three hundred centuries...such a long time can change your perceptions.... don't you think”_

Siarel didn't answer, but merely glared at his quarry.

_“Silence again? Your action accentuates my CLAIM!” _ the assassin lunged at his last word. His sword sang as it cleaved towards Siarel's thighs. The Chief Centurion blocked and countered with equal measure. 

_“I didn't ask for your opinion!”_ Siarel replied as he struck high.

_“Hmmm...” _the assassin deflected his attack and stabbed.

Siarel grunted as he parried the sword away. 

“_But still, thirty thousand years is long enough to harbor some thoughts... thoughts that can erode your very soul.....”
_
They interlocked blades and looked into each others eyes.

_“Doubts for instance...” _the voice then chuckled.

Siarel roared and pushed the assassin away.

The voice laughed just as the last of the statues on the Golden Throne gave birth to their live counterparts. The Centurions can't hold it much longer. So many have died. 

They quickly ascended the steps towards the Emperor where the danger was more apparent. 

_“No!” _Siarel suddenly protested, halting them in their tracks. “He is mine!”

One of them took off his helmet and looked at Siarel as he battled the assassin.

“As you wish my Chief Centurion” said Fluvian and led his fellow Centurions in the opposite direction.

_“Too proud to accept any help Siarel? Are you too noble to ignore such an advantage?” _

Siarel roared in reply and hailed the assassin with attacks that would have quailed a berserker.

_“Hahaha! Siarel! What is this? Did I touch a sensitive nerve!?” _ the voice mocked.

_“Die!”_ Siarel replied.

The two clashed again and engaged at each other like lions.

Down the slopes of the Golden throne, the Centurions ran, leap and jumped as they raced towards the battlefield. Their capes fluttering behind them as they drove themselves to the point of exhaustion, and for a Centurion, that's saying a lot.

The assassins fought back to back as the Companions circled them like vultures would to a carrion. The rushing group of Centurions arrived after half a dozen more Companions died. When the Centurions engaged, the rest of the Companions gave them a wide berth. 

“Remember who your are and we will have victory!” Fluvian cried as he dove towards the pair of assassins.

_“Siarel.”_ the voice chuckled as the pair interlocked blades, unleashed a couple of swipes and withdrew.

_“Your mind is in chaos. I can see it. It's as bright as day!” _ the assassin stabbed.

Siarel parried but the assassin twisted his wrist and attacked with a reversed swing. Sparks ignited as the blade sliced Siarel's adamantium neck brace. He tried to recover but the assassin was already following through. An upward diagonal strike landed and his face spurted blood.

Near the Eternity Gate, Anoun faced the Golden Throne just as the attack struck.

_“MY LORD!”_ Anoun's voice echoed through his mind as he struggled to stay upright. 

_“A mind in chaos is a prey worth playing with.”_ the voice said.

Siarel blinked and wiped the blood off his face. He raised his weapon and lunged.

The assassin parried nonchalantly and smack him on the side of the head, smashing his helmet to pieces. He collided with the floor and a pained groaned escaped his mouth.

His mind and body was now truly in chaos. The pain wracked him in every nerve ending and the shock of the attack pushed him to the brink.

_“You were right you know.”_ the assassin stood over him and bent down.

_“Fluvian should have been the Chief Centurion.” _the foggy shape of his quarry was all that he could see amidst the blinding light above him.

_“You're not fit to be the leader Siarel. You never have been.”_

Siarel's vision was slowly clearing and could see that the face of the assassin was an inch from his. His hands trembled slightly and noticed the cold touch of metal at the tip of his right.

_“Because of these doubts, you failed. You failed Siarel.”_ the voice laughed maniacally.

“I never failed anything.” he whispered, his fingers gripped the metal.

_“What was that?”_ Siarel grunted and his gladius came free of its scabbard. The assassin's eyes widened and a scrunching sound reached his ears when the blade tore through the assassin's chest plate and out his back.

“Im...pressive.” the words came of out of the assassin's mouth just as his body swayed and fell on top of Siarel's.

The Chief Centurion slowly pushed the carcass of the assassin off him and stood up. He then walked to where his spear lay and picked it up. He returned to the remains of his quarry and raised his weapon and stabbed the assassin on the back of his head. Bluish blood sprayed forth from the wound and Siarel pulled the blade out to reveal the remains of his quarry's cranium.

_“I will never fail. Never.”_ He then turned and looked at the Eternity Gate.

_“Fluvian, it is....”_

_“Siarel...” _

His blood went cold but his instincts were already in motion. He spun like a tornado bringing his spear to bear and willing every muscle of his body to follow. 

_“DIE!”_ was the only word that dominated his mind. 

His spear tore a throat.

“NO!” Siarel cried in shock and dropped his weapon. The clang it produced was heavy and loud to his ears and was like the toll of the bell on the Tower of Heroes. 

“No, no, no!” his voice was constricted, his hands were going numb and started to shake.

_“Siarel…”_ the voice repeated.

“No, how could I!” his voice was strained as his knees gave way. “How!? MPOSSIBLE!” he clawed at his face and started to sob.

_“Yet it is.”_

“No, no, no.” he whispered between sobs. Behind him, the battle raged on but he gave little attention to it.

“This was the doubt Siarel. Your fear” the body in front of him spoke, its throat lacerated and bleeding. The systems maintaining its life were flashing ancient runes that demanded attention.

“Failure Siarel. This was the source of your doubt. Your deepest fear.” its voice was beginning to fade. 

“You. Have. Failed. Me.” the carcass of the Emperor breathed its last words and died.

“NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!”​​
*Location: Inner Palace
Year 990 M59

Five hours later....​*

A Custode dropped his spear and knelt, tears were trickling down his face.

“Alert the Captain-general...” he said to his comm bead. “We have failed.”

In front of him, the smoldering remains of the Titans of the Legio Ignatum were scattered everywhere. Beyond them was the shattered Eternity Gate...​​


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## Deus Mortis (Jun 20, 2009)

This is honestly one of the best stories I have ever read! Slightly confused as to how Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 link, and who the 'invisible' assassins are, but if anything that is a good thing because it makes me want to read more and find about more about these facts; who was behind the unknown breach? What was Sigismund's plan? Why did he need a librarian? These questions I'm sure will still play on my mind for a while. Very enjoyable and gripping. A brilliant piece writing waltzmelancholy_07!

Oh, and +rep!


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Glad you like it:victory::grin:....


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