Editing Parchments and Bolters (section)

=== Introduction ===

Hey /tg/ it's been a long while. From my time in uni and job I couldn't help but remember this story and wanted to give a go again. I'd be happy if you would join me one last time.

Empires rise and fall.

In this new hellish world, war was constant, disease rampantly spread like consuming fire, and tragedy was the norm where a quick death was a miracle. And amongst the chaos, the perpetual, slave #5552, did her best to remain inconspicuous as possible.

It was just another day toiling in the factory, shoving in the coals and working the machines of the metal mill. Perhaps it was steel, iron, who knew? The only thing she knew was the daily toils she had to go through. The suffocating hot air and fumes choked her lungs, her body ached from the ungodly unending work, and her throat was drier than the most barren deserts. Sweat marinated her skin and her hair obstructed her view. She would have shaved them off if not for hair being a commodity for the warlord's harem, since some could not grow their own hair properly.

“Hey Tinn, watch this!”

5552 carried the coal and as she waited in the line she saw it. A techno barbarian grabbing Slave #4242 then tossing him into the tub of molten steel. The sound of clashing metals and creaking cries of the machinery drowned he screams as usual, but 5552 watched, as a sick way of letting the man know at least he would not die alone, not that he would know. 5552 did what any right minded individual would do. Turning her attention back to work. Ever since some army led by a ‘golden’ man has been going around conquering one war-state after another, production quota sky rocketed.

“I heard that took out hundreds of our guys, those thunder warriors.” The barbarian said.

“Shut it you frakk! The last time that said that was flayed alive by the boss!”

In her ever growing wisdom, the worst of the worst, got worse. Whoever these thunder warriors were, she hoped that they would kill the barbarians soon.


It was just another day inside the “slave quarters.” Though it was more of a pit with blankets. After a day of work the slaves would be brough into the pit through a ladder which would be retrieved by the techno-barbarians. 5552, along with other slaves huddled in, in the lowest level of the warlord’s kingdom was the pit. In already cold region the pit was a freezing hellhole, on the bright side anyone that died while sleeping at least did not decompose quickly. 5552 lied on the cold concrete ground and brought her knees close to generate some kind of warmth and huddled with other slaves.

“Hey fifty-two.” Slave number 2012 said. “Do you think the rumors are true?”

2012 was a young girl, only a few years older than 5552’s physical appearance with muddy blond hair caked in soot.

“The thunder warriors?” 5552 said. “I don’t know. It’s best not to have hope. Let’s try to sleep.”

“But what if they are?” 2012 excitedly. “They have to come here to rescue us, and the mill will be an important place!”

“Maybe they’re real, maybe they can be worse than our warboss. Don’t get your hoeps up 2012.” 5552 said. “Let’s just try to survive tonight.”

2012 sighed.

“You’re probably right. Hope never did anything good anyways. Just look what happened to 4242. I bet those frakkers killed him since he did his best to keep us happy.”

5552 nodded.

“Come on 2012, let’s go to sleep.”

“Good night 5552.”

“Good night 2012.”

In the hot forge of the mill, 5552 moved like a factory machine. Unlike the usual die more slave seemed to be abused, some just outright murdered in middle of its tasks. Fear gripped 5552’s heart fully knowing she could next if she was close to them for any reason. It was not death she feared, it was her immortality being discovered. While her memory may be fragmented, phantom pain followed with any remembrance of her immortality discovered. What 5552 also noticed was the increase in the guards.

“LISTEN UP!”

The slaves stop, and see another slave being held up in the air by his neck, flailing helplessly. The other barbarian brandished an ax. The servants continued to cry and scream, apologixing, for what he did not say, only apologizing with all his might. A lump passed through 5552’s throat.

“From now on, anyone caught slacking off will not be punished.”

The barbarian raised the ax high and stayed still, ensuring all slaves watched with pure horror in their eyes. Once the blade fell there was a sickening scream, and a body not flailing, but thrashing madly. Gore was something she could never acclimate to, even now. For further shock, the barbarian then bashed the slave’s head. Enough force to make it bloody, but not enough to make the death quick.

“I’ll make you regret it. NOW GIT BACK TO WORK!”

The slaves scattered after that. Whatever was going on, something must’ve been working. With 2012 beside her 5552 continued to shovel the coal into the flaming furnace.

“You think it was the thunder warriors?” 2012 whispered.

“Shut it 2012.” 5552 sharply whispered.

“I hope the thunder warri-”

“WHO SAID THAT!”

5552 bitterly sighed, of course a techno barbarian would be nearby. Life just happened to work that way sometimes. 2012 and 5552 saw the hulking techno barbarian, the one known as Bone-Killer, a name so stupid that 5552 wondered if the brains of the barbarians was smaller than a walnut. Bone-Killer stomped his way towards them, shoving any foolish slaves that did not notice him. The techno-barbarian stood, his intimidating height towering over 5552 and 2012.

“Who. Said. That.”

2012 trembled, and 5552 stayed silent. 2012 was a stupid girl, and 5552 wasn’t about to sacrifice herself to just-

“IT WAS HER!”

Shit. 5552 glared at 2012 with rage. But before she could say anything, she saw the world turn upside down. Then as expected, things went dark for a while. The cold void of death only welcomed for a brief moment, then rejected her for the thousandth time. 5552 opened her eyes, greeted by the familiar cold hard ground, except the space was smaller and had bars.

“Look she’s alive!”

The barbarians gathered as if she was a creature to be gawked at. After that, it was one death after another. Shot, stabbed, decapitated, few months later she became a living target practice for the barbarians. And once they found out she didn’t need food to survive, she could not find the energy to move, she might as well been a stationary target.

“Move faster!”

A bullet popped her head like a rotten melon.

This was her life. Get “fed” with moldy wheat blob, which 5552 avoided. Go out into the field and walk. She did admit, it was better than being tortured slowly. That, that was something she could not fathom. Days, weeks, months had passed in her new life. Wake up. Get shot. Wake up. In this instance, the bastards made a grenade full of nails. 5552 simply cut her own throat once she realized that. Their methods would be come more brutal, nail bombs, flame throwers, day by day it looked like their sadistic nature began to grow.

5552 once again stood in the range, eyes wide and ears sharp to start dodging once more, hoping a headshot will take her out early. The sharpnels of the previous day pierced her feet, and 5552 cursed her negligence and the barbarians.

“Hey frek!” The barbarian said. “You’re going to love this!”

The barbarians excitedly brought in a specially made explosion. The kind that was comically large and crudely put together. 5552 tried to hide behind that one rock that the barbarian let her have. She turn, but the bullets riddled her legs into shredded meat. 5552 bit her lips to not give them the satisfaction. She looked back, and saw the crude fuse lit. 5552 closed her eyes. The ear shattering explosion was only for a few seconds. When she opened her eyes once more, she found herself in the tundras, where the mill was but a small speck in her vision. Her scattering fragment flew far, and had the unfortunate luck of regenerating from the said fragment.

Walk around, die, walk around, die. It was a cycling process until 5552 looked for the nearest settlement. It was a local town known for making food for the barbarians, now the aftermath of a destructive battle. Rubbles replaced homes, the dreadful cold preserved the corpses, any semblance of civilization was a strewn-up carcass, cruelly layered by the unceasing snow. 5552 entered the only intact home, she tossed any burnable furniture into the pile. The fire began to slowly rise, plumes of smoke creating a terrible smell that came with the glowing warmth.

Her memory always had a habit of crawling back in silence. Not the memories of the advanced world, no, the memory when humanity was young, full of ignorance and hope. The empires that once thought they were invincible, now consumed by the unstoppable wave of time.

“Don’t move.”

The comfort only lasted for so long. 5552 stayed where she was, wrapped up in blankets.

“Turn around.”

5552 slowly did so and saw a hulking man. Not like any tall barbarians, not by his armor. For men clad in armor that looked like exaggerated drawings, they were somehow silent.

“Where are you from?” The soldier asked.

“I escaped from the mills.”

The soldier’s visor hid his face, but the snarl of his lips gave away his annoyance.

“You’re telling me you walked all the way to this town?”

5552 shrugged.

“In this age, things are hard to believe.”

“Am I meant to be amused?”

5552 sighed, intimidation was but a useless question to her. A rhetorical question that needed no answer. She was too old for this nonsense.

“Look, either you kill me or take me to your boss. You’re thinking about asking me for another way to the mill, yeah?”

The soldier snarled again, another feign attempt of intimidation.

“Do you thunder warriors always answer with some sort of glower too?” 5552 said tiredly.

“You know of us?”

5552 nodded.

“Barbarians kill any slaves that even attempt at saying your name.”

“And you’re one of them?”

“Someone else said but they blamed me.” 5552 said indifferently, not like she blamed that young girl. “So do you want that mill location or not?”

“After I bring you to the captain.”

The eerily empty town was not densely populated, 5552 did not ask how they achieved it, there were things that were not worth asking. Not like they were going to answer her anyway. The captain, wearing a golden helmet with a crimson plume stared down at her, brandishing a bulky gun and sword.

“How did a sickly slave like you survive?” The captain said.

“Luck.” 5552 said with a shrug.

The answer to her answer was staring at the barrel of the gun.

“Luck? Do I look like a gullible frakker?”

She shrugged again.

“I can lead you to the mill undetected or you can just shoot me here and try to besiege it. Which do you want?”

“You will lead us then, but if this is a lie-”

“You’ll make me regret it, I know.”

5552 pointed toward the icy landscape, and began the journey back. Though she could not help feel an eye on her...

The thunder warriors were a strange bunch. Once she led them to the passageway they did not opt for a more clandestine way. Instead, they charged in with bare resistance. After all, the passageway was to keep the slaves in, not out. The unstoppable force of blades and bullets ripped through the techno-barbarians. It was certainly satisfying to watch, and once the assault ended the slaves kicked the eviscerated corpses.

“So you were correct, you did well.”

“I only told you where to go.” 5552 said.

“You could have easily betrayed us, not that it would make a difference.” The captain said with a gruff. “What I’m curious about is how you survived.”

“It’s just how it is.” 5552 said. “I was lucky.”

“Luck does not protect you from the frozen land and death.” The captain said. “Nevertheless, you have helped us. The mill was a strategic target for the unification.”

“The what?”

“The unification.” The captain said. “It is the Emperor’s will that humanity will be unified once more, then set out to the stars.”

Yes, because that went well. The uncharacteristic zeal in thunder warrior was something to note, he seemed genuine n his belief. Well, the goal was at least sounded nice, impossible, but nice.

“YOU! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!”

It was 2012, trembling at your sight. The captain and the rest of the thunder warriors simply stood, unsure of what to make of 2012’s rambling. 2012 began telling the thunder warrior her story, without admitting to what she did. The bitch. The thunder warriors were actually listening to 2012 as well as if what she said made sense. Stories of 5552 being shot, blown to pieces, and stabbed, but always coming back alive.

“SHE’S A MONSTER!” 2012 said. “KILL HER! KILL HER NOW!”

Once the thunder warriors stared at 5552, she took a step back. It was made worse when other slaves that were forced to watch joined in as well. The slaves then begin to do the human mob mentality, then all began to call her a monster. Which, 5552 had to admit, was partially true. No humans can simply come back from death after all.

“KILL HER!”

“SLAY THAT MONSTER!”

The captain grabbed 5552 by her arms and walked toward the barbarian’s quarter, 5552 waited for a swift execution and dreaded what would happen after.

“Don’t be afraid.” The captain said. “I won’t kill you just because some slaves think you’re immortal.”

5552 let out a sigh of relief.

“However, you will come with us. You will speak with my Emperor. He will decide whether you’re a threat or not, until then you will stay with us. It’s better than facing a mob, and somehow I think you are experienced with such problems.”

“And when do I meet this emperor?”

“Soon. Rest up while you can, we make our way to meet with our emperor soon.”

For the first time in years, she slept peacefully, the uncertainty of the future could wait.