Editing Parchments and Bolters (section)

=== Scattering ===

She could never trust the Emperor and Malcador. In the grand picture of the Emperor’s plan she was just another tool for him. Erda was nowhere to be found when she was moved to the new facility of Luna. Other than the vast blackness that was the space, not much had changed. Except that the Emperor would ‘check in’ through a psychic call. On another day cycle, 5552 held on to her son, Horus. Her mind wandered on the uncertain future, hidden by her motherly attention to the infant. The door suddenly opened with a pressurized hiss.

“Erda! You’re finally here.”

“Hello, fifty-two.”

“You… you don’t look so well.”

Erda rubbed her eyes with a tired groan. From last time you saw her she now looked skinnier, and paler than before. Her eyes were sunken and the bags underneath were horribly sagged. Not to mention her hair was frazzled out of control. The way her eyes seemed to be darting around as if something was following her.

“I was worried about you, where have you been?”

“I’ve been… speaking with the Emperor.” Erda said.

She reached out her hand to gently cup Horus’s cheek. 5552 handed Horus to Erda.

“I’ve spoken with the Emperor, he said-”

“I’m aware that you have convinced him. Why did he listen to you but not I? I’ve done more for him, supported him for thousands of years. But why did he listen to you, just because you’re older than he is?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry Erda.” 5552 said.

“No matter, I’m just glad he has been convinced. For this will be my last time seeing my children, the Emperor has forbidden me from seeing my children.” Erda said forlornly. “Why must he be so cruel?”
“He… he has forbidden you?”

“We must escape here, you know the Emperor is man who will not listen other than those who are his lapdogs. Do you truly believe that the Emperor will spare the children? Do you? We must escape.”

Erda grasped 5552’s hand, with a pleading gaze.

“How are we to do that? The Emperor has his eyes everywhere.”

“You must distract him.”

5552 stared at Erda as if she was hit twice on the head and proposed to attack the Emperor. In a way, it was. To even dare go against the Emperor, disregarding his authority and power, the Emperor was not someone to be trifled with. 5552 placed Horus back to his pod gently.

“Erda, I understand how you feel but we can’t go against the Emperor.” 5552 said.

“You do not have to fear that man. With me, we can save them.”

“And if we don’t? If we fail the Emperor will deny us and he will use the children as his weapons. No.” 5552 shook her head. “I won’t let you jeopardize them.”

A sharp sting of pain exploded as Erda’s hand flew across her cheeks. The bellowing cry from Horus now filled the room, and the attention of Longinus was brought into the room. 5552’s arms tightened around Horus as Erda grabbed 5552 by her collar.

“They are not your children, they are mine! You are nothing but an usurper of my legacy and my place in this world! I will be the Empress and I will be the Primarch’s mother. Not you!”

“Longinus.” 5552 said.

The custodian in middle of barging in froze. 5552 nodded to Longinus, then gazed back. Erda simply placed 5552 down then walked past Longinus to exit the incubation room. 5552 sighed then quickly trotted to Horus.

“There there, hush my child.” 5552 cooed. “All is well.”

Horus gently grasped his mother’s finger, giggling. Doubt sprouted in her heart. What if, just what if, the Emperor lied to her?

The thorny vines of doubt began to coil around her heart. Erda, as desperate and pitiful she was had pierced a stake of consternation in her trust in the Emperor’s words. What assurance does she have that the Emperor would keep his words? 5552 stared into the warmed-up nutrient paste, alone inside the vast mess hall save for Longinus who stood outside the entrance. The black void of space lost its charm weeks ago and she now only saw it as an eternal night.

Be it a mistake or all part of encompassing plan, the Emperor’s light unlocked most of her memories. Whether he chose to block some to resurface or not, that was also in her mind. But 5552 remembered the kings and emperors that declared to lead mankind into greatness, but the difference between those who declared and the Emperor was simple: The Emperor had the power to do so.

And with his ability, the Emperor would drag mankind toward glory, it would not matter if they were kicking and screaming. Even if meant leaving a trail of bodies. The Emperor’s powers would reinforce his righteousness, his moral compass permanently fixed toward one direction. Against an omnipotent being, what could she do?

Nothing.

Immortality was all she had after all. 5552 finished her meal and continued her day, spending her time in the incubation room, etching the names of each Primarchs she had named, she had yet to name them all, names were important and she wanted to find the right name for each one, usually by searching in deep wells that were her memory. It was until Erda arrived, looking much worse than before but with an apologetic frown. 5552 placed Sanguinius into his pod gently.

“Fifty-two, can we talk… in private?”

“Sure. Would my quarters work?”

5552’s quarter was simple, almost downright spartan from how little she had.

“I ask you again, to help me in this endeavour.”

5552 sighed.

“And I said the failure is a steep price to pay.” 5552 said. “Or is your grand plan worth more than your ‘children’? I grow sick of this, Erda.”

“They are my children!”

“They are nothing but your bargaining chip into the throne!” 5552 said. “I thought you understood what it meant to be a mother, but you were blinded by your own glory!”

“Glory is passed down to the children!” Erda said. “They are my children, mine!”

“No,” 5552 said defiantly “They are not. And so help me God, I will do everything to protect them. You had your chance.”

“No, I still do.”

Within seconds Erda unsheathed a dagger with a sheenly blue blade. 5552’s attempt at screaming was but a bloody gurgle as air escaped through the gash on her throat. The split second he heard the gurgle, Longinus kicked the door only to see 5552 alone in the room. Then, the Luna base trembled as sickly purple lights began manifesting everywhere. As blood flooded from her open throat her world began to fade into darkness.

Death was but a temporary state, a mere simmer inside the cold void of darkness. 5552 opened her eyes soon; where an ungodly amount of gold filled her vision as she slowly awakened. Instead of the usual white sterile light, a dark red hue dipped the facility’s light. The gold that obstructed her vision was her squad of custodians, two standing behind her and the other two in front of her.

5552 covered here ears immediately as the sound of bolters and the blaring alarm sound screeched like nails on a chalkboard. The squelching howl caught 5552’s attention, and her face paled at the sight. Gangly flesh monsters crawled everywhere, puss and ooze, wrinkled bodies of disproportionate flesh. 5552 screamed at the sight.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!”

The custodians ignored 5552’s panic, instead, another custodian picked her up and placed her at a corner.

“Do not move.”

5552 merely ducked her head and waited for silence, ignoring any soft fleshy text that she felt hitting her and the haunting screeches. 5552 plugged her ears, hunkering down until it all ended. 5552 pried her one eye open. The warmth of the golden light melted her fears away, and eased her panicking mind.

“M-my Emperor…”

“Are you well?”

5552 nodded.

“You must listen calmly, my sons are missing, taken by the forces of chaos. And it’s time that you learn what they are.”

“It’s more surprising that you have not encountered them in all your life.” Malcador said.

Dejected and wrought with worry, 5552 slumped over her chair inside Malcador’s study. A dreadfully lit room that was the definition of controlled chaos. From a satellite of the ancient Terra and to an odd brick sized phone, it was being inside the museum.

“That’s because I was content with just living without making some world breaking change.”

“Wasted years and wasted gift.” Malcador said while shaking his head. “You beared sons that changed the course of the world yet you have not done that yourself.”

“Is there a point you’re trying to make?” 5552 said irritably.

“Only to express my disappointment.” Malcador said plainly. “The primarchs will take years to find.”

5552 grasped the fabric of her dress tightly.

“What will I do until then?”

“Your psychic potential is inexplicable. You do not control it yet it is finely tuned. ” Malcador said matter of factly. “If you learn your ability, perhaps you can be the link to find your sons."

“Is that possible?” 5552 said hopefully.

“We can only try.”