With the latest news of a new alien world falling under Nexus’ control, public sentiment was almost unanimous in their utter support for Sev. To learn that not only were there other, older human civilizations out there, but there were hostile and not-so-hostile aliens as well, spurred the imagination of everyone and strengthened their devotion to their god-ruler.
Sev had easily taken down supposedly ancient and advanced pirate aliens with his technology and magic, and cowed the so-called Imperium into keeping off the Nexus’ lawn. He had negotiated a peace with the thin and sharp-eared Eldar, and had broken another metaphysical god.
The videos of the Nexus’ space fleet ignoring the blinding firepower of the outsiders became popular topics to be watched and rewatched, along with glimpses of giant superhumans and uncannily humanlike Eldar. Unfortunately, space tourism was still prohibited, out of safety in case more aliens showed up.
For now, the public had to settle for wrecks recovered from the initial landing attempt, or the many exotic pieces dragged down from space and put on display. People marveled at the paradoxically advanced yet primitive Mechanicum weapons and tools, and gawked at the sadism of Eldar raider technology. News and warnings of the Immaterium spawned a new genre of interdimensional horror. They raptly watched public service documentaries about the defected Eldar of Commorragh, as well as the various aliens liberated from the degenerate interdimensional city.
Overall, the citizens of a rebuilding post-apocalypse saw the new discoveries from the stars as just another threat, one that Sev would no doubt protect them from.
While art and media were inspired, the sciences too underwent a new phase of study. Eldar, Astartes and Mechanicum bodies were thoroughly studied in Ix, while the occultists of Vault Gesserit carefully delved into the mysteries of the Immaterium. A joint project between the natural and metanatural sciences soon resulted in the discovery of the ‘psyker’ gene, something that nobody on Earth had for reasons many found entertaining to speculate about.
It was a curious thing that would soon be changed, as experimentation quietly moved to the unlucky prisoners in Tleilax. The first human psykers of the Nexus Unity would be artificially created by Sev, and summarily executed after studying, mostly as a mercy considering the amount of Warp mutation they underwent during testing. The knowledge generously offered by the grateful Primarch Magnus of the Imperium’s XVth Legion sped up the research considerably.
Once a satisfying amount of research was accomplished, the planetary public of the Nexus Unity were more comprehensively educated through radio and television broadcasts about the nature of the Immaterium and its flavor of psychic abilities. Its double-edged concept of faith and highly corruptive nature was emphasized, along with the knowledge that the people of the Nexus Unity were currently unperceivable in the Immaterium due likely to Sev.
A public vote followed, and a month after all that, the people of the Nexus Unity overwhelmingly chose to abstain from introducing the psyker gene and its Immaterium associations into their comfortable bubble of humanity.
Another vote saw the unanimous decision to heavily restrict the movement of any non-Nexus citizen, human or otherwise, on Nexus territory. In relation to that, Deathclaws, Doomgeese and other intelligent auxiliaries of the Nexus Unity were now deemed citizens.
*****
As the Imperium reassessed its relationship with the mangled Mechanicum, Horus found himself in charge of organizing compliance fleets to confirm the loyalties of the forge worlds within Imperial space. No doubt the news would spread soon of the desecration of Mars, along with the inevitable whispers about the so-called ‘Great Lie of Mars’.
Horus was glad that Malcador was dealing with most of the fallout, but the primarch still did not look forward to the prospect of subduing outraged forge worlds with their own Titan Legios and Knight Houses. No doubt the Nexus Unity would find any Mechanicum Crusade Fleet to be amusing at best, but the Imperium cannot afford further disruptions of men and materiel.
The XVIth’s own fleets were just finishing up on cowing, assuaging and outright replacing their tech-priests to maintain operational efficiency. The religious crisis had resulted in a new and growing class of secular tech adepts, engineers and apostate tech-priests that were slowly learning how to operate and maintain various technologies while carefully tearing away the trappings of superstition that the Mechanicum held dear.
It was a marvelous show of human progress, but hopefully the Emperor and Malcador would be able to formulate suitable measures in time to nip at the bud the clash that would no doubt arise between the engineers and the orthodox Mechanicum.
Horus had sent out astropathic warnings to his brothers and other compliance fleets, and he hoped that the loyalties of the tech-priests would hold truer to the fleet they served in than their Mechanicum. No doubt some brothers would have an easier or harder time at it than others. He could see Perturabo taking advantage of this, while Lorgar…
Lorgar might go either way, come to think about it. The Bearer of the Word might see the Cult Mechanicus’ fall as further proof of his misguided faith, or take it as an affront.
Come to think of it, how would bellicose Ferrus see the humiliation of Mars? Or even the Emperor’s own loss to Sev?
Horus frowned with distaste, knowing that he’d have to deal with calming his brothers. It’d be more time taken away from the Great Crusade, more time wasted.
With a sigh, the primarch of the XVIth Luna Wolves began to review the most effective means of placating his brothers. It’d be a hard task considering that Dorn, Sanguinius and Magnus had already left to see to the forge worlds. Hard, but not impossible.
As Horus played through various possible scenarios in his head, Maloghurst entered with a deferential bow that poorly masked his sense of urgency. “My lord…” The primarch immediately steeled himself to calmness as he knew from the voice and pose that the news that his equerry brought would be far from pleasant.
“...we’ve received an astropathic message from the 419th Compliance Fleet.” Maloghurst hesitated for a second, and Horus felt a cold unease growing in his core as he began playing out the worst case scenarios. “The fleet in its entirety is headed towards the Nexus Unity.”
Horus felt himself go rigid and cold as he immediately replied. “Muster our fleet and plot an intercept course.” The primarch followed his equerry out and headed for the astropathic choir. The forge worlds can wait. A message needed to be sent to the Nexus Unity about the 419th, and the primarch that leads it.
Hopefully Sev would be as gracious to Konrad and his Night Lords as he was to Angron and the World Eaters.
*****
The visions had grown unpredictable. The future that once seemed set in stone now twisted and mutated. The light at the end had dimmed differently, the keening of galactic ruin snuffed before the spark could be lit. Something had changed, drastic enough to drag along the lives of trillions.
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Drastic enough that the bleak, once immutable future became anything but.
Konrad Curze, primarch of the VIIIth Night Lords Legion vented his concerns on a fresh corpse hanging within the lightless confines of his sanctum. For all the changes, he still saw the flames of war rise. It may not be as ruinous nor as all-consuming, but the visions gave glimpses of a growing oblivion that broke savage war cries into mewling whimpers, while ancient, eldritch lightning sputtered into sparks. The laughter and screams and cries tied to the fabric of existence was quieted by cold, unrelenting and unmerciful justice.
It was…beautiful.
The Night Haunter saw flashes of a bloody, futile stand, the markings on the desperate warriors changing each time. Wolves, ironforged, knights, iconoclasts, it mattered not. They would fight, and they would lose to the tide of darkness filled with chittering red eyes.
But there were also instances where the primarch’s future sight showed those same warriors marching alongside the darkness, enforcing a cold peace that snuffed out the songs of red-cloaked industry and dimmed the light of Terra to a measly, sputtering speck.
Yet through all those visions, Konrad did not find any clues to his own future, nor that of his twisted legion. Try as he might to focus, the new, malleable future held nothing about the Night Haunter and his Night Lords.
Which was why the primarch was leading the 419th Compliance Fleet into the heart of cold, blissful darkness, to seek out his fate at the source.
Interestingly, the visions fluctuated in intensity as the fleet dove through the Warp. Some screamed of an approaching demise to the galaxy, so agonizing and unending that the primarch found some inspiration from it. In others, it wheezed promises of humanity’s pitiful existence, forced to waste away as a mind-numbed invalid under a blinding light.
Extinction came in a myriad of ways, but Konrad found nothing truly solid in their wisps truths and half-truths. Nothing truly immutable as before. Uncomfortable questions arose, about inevitability and of his own destiny. It was concerning enough for the primarch to fall into thoughtful silence for days.
The seclusion ended only once the fleet finally reentered the realspace of the Nexus Unity. Konrad immediately felt a change as an invisible, oppressive burden lifted from him. As the alarm rang out throughout the flagship Nightfall, the primarch of the VIIIth Legion stared into the darkness of his room as if with new eyes.
He almost stumbled out into the corridors, ignoring the mortals and legionnaires alike around him. A strange clarity befell his senses, free from the hazy, double-vision of the future, free from the oppressive background whispers and screaming of overlapping voices. It was both liberating and crippling at the same time. Konrad’s head felt lighter, looser, as if it had been freed from a vice. The aches he carried for most of his life, aches he never truly registered, were gone.
Only after long, marvelous seconds did he finally register and turn to the urgent, familiar voices that called out to him.
“-ord! My lord, your orders?” It was Shang, his equerry.
Konrad finally adjusted to the new reality, and heard the dullness of his own voice. “Where is Sevatar?”
“In the Apothecarion, along with the Librarians. They fell to seizure the moment we translated into the system.” Shang’s face and tone hardened with determination, now that he had his primarch’s attention. “My lord, we are getting hailed by the inhabitants of this system. The Nexus Unity demands to know our purpose. How do we respond?”
Konrad tasted the rising tension before he simply marched to the bridge and barged into view of the live communication between the Shipmaster and an unknown mortal on the other end. Rather impressively, the young female did not flinch at his presence, instead offering an arch look.
“Primarch Konrad Curze, I assume?”
He gave a slow nod, barely holding a giggle in. He’d sensed another bout brewing at the back of his head as he looked at the girl, but it sputtered to nothing. The visions were being effectively quashed. It was so refreshing.
“I wish to…speak with your leader,” Konrad drawled with a black-toothed smile that made the mortal bridge crew flinch. “...and express…my thanks.”
The young woman turned to one side for a moment, looking at something past the screen before returning her wary attention to him. “Sev is busy at the moment with other matters. I’ve passed the message along. In the meantime, kindly do not stray any closer. Doing so would be seen as an act of hostility and be dealt with promptly.”
Konrad nodded his understanding and watched the link die before turning his attention to the bridge’s view ports. His vision spluttered uselessly again as he laid eyes to gas giants being consumed, and small, sleek ships swimming lazily before the fleet. Konrad vaguely recalled the battle reports of his Father and brothers against the Nexus, and felt a pique of curiosity at how such small vessels carved out whole swathes of a combined Imperial fleet.
A small part of him wished to see for himself if the reports were true.
Alas, the lack of any foresight, as well as a newly found common sense held him back. For now.
“What now, my lord?” It was Shang again.
This time, Konrad didn’t hold back his brittle laugh. “Now? We wait, of course.”
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