Editing Angron The Mad (section)

== Prologue ==

 

Through the immaterium passed a child, echoing screams within clouds that passed in the breeze, waves pushing it forward as light struck darkness and they melded, shadows streaking the creases. The waves split and the pup was separated from their litter, a catapult of energy throwing them into unreality, a falsehood that was true yet not. Meaningless, yet meaning more than anything. It pierced back into reality, the child back from whence it came. Flames licked the edges of its pod as it passed through the atmosphere. Liquids inside kept them temperate, stopping them from boiling away to nothing.

The pod struck the ground, the earth under it shook and fell around the area, its capsule cracked open and shards of glass strewed the crater it had left. Liquids bled out of its home while it had its first breath. A groan and a gag as it coughed out the viscous mixture that had filled its lungs, tasting the fresh air. It was soft, cold in a good way. The forest it had landed in was loud: chirps of birds, cicadas that squealed in the canopy all trying to be heard. The blessed silence of its pod, the hum of nothing and softness of darkness left it, having left it to an endless barrage of sound that hammered its senses, it sat there crying and let out a screech that shook trees from their roots. Its scream then echoed through the destruction, something which alerted a far worse threat than any mere predator hidden in the green.

 

“The red beast weeps, hold fast and prepare to attack.” The Farseer’s orders echoed through their skulls, the three warriors getting into a diamond formation as they galloped towards the scream, a siren call beckoning them to finish what should never have started, ready to cull the terror before the first pang of fear comes.
“Farseer, this is a mon’keigh, this is true. But will we be enough? Should we not have brought a Wraithlord? Our ancestors, their experience would be paramount.” One of the aspects spoke up, a hint of fear betraying his war mask, he wasn’t moving in formation, he lagged behind..

“It is but a hatchling right now Olahyn, had I brought anything more than what we have, then the mon’keigh would have been alerted to our presence. We are the strong, the powerful. Yet, only a fool can think that numbers cannot defeat us eventually.. Though, what does it matter, it is but a babe unable to fight the elements, let alone three aspect warriors and a Farseer of my might and position.” The warrior nodded, his commander's words gleamed in his mind. As they passed through the shrub, their movements betraying no noise, they arrived at the new clearing. Dust and rocks still not settled, the child screamed louder as it felt them approach, its eyes still closed.

“It seems their king, he grows his young like the Druchii do their own. A disgusting display.” The Farseer told them, he slid down into the crater with grace, walking to the pod. He looked with curiosity at the child, he reached out a hand to grab it. He held it by the leg in front of him, studying the cub in his hands, no mother to save it.

The child was angered by his grip, it screeched louder and louder, the Farseer felt a burning pain in his ears. The noise grated terribly, but he was naught if not steadfast, and observed it, wondering if it would tire of this soon. After a bit the cub seemed to calm, it opened its eyes, opening its mouth and baring its fa- no teeth yet.

The Farseer’s curiosity got the best of him, he reached in to inspect the beast. All he felt was flesh, he wondered when the mon’keigh grew their teeth. As he kept feeling around, he sensed something poke out. He tried to ascertain what it was hiding under the surface of flesh, where their ja- his train of thought ended when the child bit down. Searing pain shot through his body as he felt his finger crack. He attempted to throw it off, waving his hand, screaming in pain.

His warriors held fast, not firing lest they risk hitting their Farseer in the scuffle. He must be able to kill something so weak and frail, right? He said it was no threat himself. Maybe the crack was from it’s jaw, not his bones? “Farseer, do you require a-” one of them began to say when his voice struck their mind.

 

“Get it off me! Get it off!” His voice drilled into their skulls, the child had moved deeper, now biting and tearing into his hand, growling. When he stopped waving his arm and prepared to strike it, he felt his flesh tear, a pain ate his thoughts and mind as he fell to his knees. An artery let his blood pool down onto the dirt. He attempted to heal his flesh with psychic power, but the cub had now clambered up his arm and grabbed onto his eyes, squeezing for dear life. The aspect warriors rushed down to get it off his face but could do nothing except grab at it, trying to pull it off. A loud squelching echoed when one of the aeldar finally ripped the beast off the Farseer, his face’s skin in its hands as it turned to the warrior, it clambered onto the back of his head and stretched the skin over his throat as it choked him.

One of the warriors drew his power sword and went in for the kill, but before he struck, he felt a weight on his hand so heavy it was as if Khaine himself held it. His bones rotated and creaked, contorting his limbs. Loud snaps as his spine ripped and cracked that were accompanied by the Farseer screeching as he bled out on the ground.

The final aspect grew sick of this charade and fired his shuriken catapult at the monster, aiming without thought only for it to pull on the warrior it was choking. The disc struck him directly in the face, shattering his helmet, leaving the aeldar slumped on the ground. The beast stood over the corpse for a moment, as if contemplating it’s next target. It turned its face to the last warrior, his breathing heavy and laboured, his heart beating faster than it ever had before. The monster's eyes were closed as it stared at him, tilting its head. He felt exposed under its gaze.

The soldier grabbed his dead comrade’s power sword, standing sideways, his blade in front of him, ready as he waited for the monster to strike, his breath still shaky, his body filled with adrenaline and fear. The child stood and walked off his dead comrade, ready to finish off the screaming Farseer who had regained some composure at this point.

“Where is it? Tell me so that I can strike it, damn you! Damn you all, I hope your soul is taken--” The warrior heard the Farseers last words echo through his mind, he screamed that it was in front of him. The eye sockets of the Farseer began to glow as his hands sparked with psychic energy. He tried to stand up but the child kicked the Farseer's knee, making him slip. It grabbed his hand and pressed it against his head. His armor acted as a cage when the psychic energy lashed and tore through him, the psychic scream echoing through the Aspects mind as his Farseer turned to dust, his armor falling to the ground steaming..

“How… you are, just a filthy mon’keigh, a rotten beast! My… my son! They saw nothing like this, you were meant to die! I saw your corpse, you were meant to DIE-” The Warrior was interrupted when he felt the monster's foot crack his skull. His corpse falling to the ground with a sickening crunch.

The monster hunched over it's mound of corpses, the crater painted with their blood, viscera strewn around the ground like the scraps of a meal unfinished. The creature held a steady breath, the growls and noises of the forest being drowned out as it roared, a screech that echoed through the green. Even the trees seemed to still with fear, in the silence that followed, lest they were next.