Parchments and Bolters

The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

Parchment and Bolter is the latest piece of /tg/ writefaggotry about adept #5552, a perpetual who soon finds herself as the mother figure of the entire Imperium, being the mother the Adeptus Custodes, Sisters of Silence, and Primarchs desperately need.

Beginning on June 29, 2020, it is still in its early stages. Please be patient for more content. It has been finished, read on in all of its glory! (Though there is an ending, OP has been writing some more, though there is some doubt on whether he will finish it. In the event that he doesn't, "All Hail the God-Empress of Mankind!" will be regarded as the true ending)

First thread can be found here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/73461308/

And the second one here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/73558282/

And the third one here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/73641606/

And the fourth one here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/73793884/

And the fifth one here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/73962519/

Story

Introduction

All Empires rise and fall, she witnessed that countless times.

The floor above was filled with muffled sounds of various activities. Be it Space Marines, Imperial Guards, Governors, there was always something going on above. Below the Imperial Palace the adepts of the Administratum roamed about like moles scurrying through the intricate tunnels, serving the Emperor one insignificant task at a time. There, Adept #5552 carried a box of supplies to be delivered to an officer in the docks. If 5552 was forced to tell the truth, she hated the floor levels of the palace. The sheer brightness made her eyes ache, the offices were too far apart, and the labyrinth of a palace was always difficult to navigate. As 5552 descended a long staircase something pushed her off balance.

5552 didn’t remember the tumble she took, but as she opened her eyes she saw her unnaturally bent limbs stitched itself back as if time was rewinding. 5552 quickly looked around the area, making sure that no one saw what had happened. She would have released a sigh of relief, if not for the fact that she saw someone on top of the stairs. A Space Marine, bearing the mark of the Thousand Sons, watching.

5552 grabbed whatever supply that survived the fall then fled the area. She didn’t question why the Space Marine didn’t follow her, only watched. 5552 arrived to the dock, she covered her nose as she entered the office filled with pungent smoke of some fancy pipe.

“My lord, this is the supply that you requested for.” 5552 said.

“Carry that box to the Departmento Munitorum.” The officer ordered, he didn’t even bother checking.

5552 exited the office with another supply to deliver, meaning she has to stay longer in this bright incessant place. Her mind ran with all manners of panic beneath her indifferent demeanor. She was discovered, and in a time like this she thought she would be able to live peacefully. 5552 set the box of supplies then went to the opposite direction of the Dempartmento Munitorum. She needed to escape, fast. 5552 looked for the nearest exit, before she could enter a heavy metallic footstep followed, reminding her of the Men of Iron. It was the same Space Marine, at least she thought, they all looked and acted the same.

“Shit…” 5552 muttered.

The hulking giant of iron walked up to her, a single glowing green eye staring down at her. 5552 heard of the Thousand Sons, it was said that they were capable of other wordly powers, basically space wizards in her own terms. There were no words spoken, instead, 5552 felt her arm twist like wet cloth being wrung. 5552 screamed in pain as her bone popped out of her arm. Her cry of pain didn’t echo, but sounded as if she screamed inside a cramped room. It was not long after that her arm healed as if nothing happened.

“What are you?” The cold voice asked. “You appear and act human yet you are not.”

“I- I don’t know what you’re asking about… master astartes. Just let me go please.”

The Space Marine’s hand glowed in ominous purple. 5552 tried to run to the other direction, only to run into an invisible wall. The Space Marine approached closer, glowing brighter than before, he grabbed 5552’s recently healed arm.

“Let go of me, I haven’t done anything wrong! PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU!” 5552 begged.

The Space Marine dragged her to an arbites that escorted her to a small cell, smaller than her tiny room that barely fit the bedroll. 5552 looked up to the cracked ceiling, lying on the cold floor to find a silver lining in her situation.

“At least I don’t have to see that stupid gold castle for a while…”

Imprisonment

She forgot how many times she had died of hunger and thirst, the only sensation that she felt was the creeping sensation of someone, or something watching her. The piece of stale bread and water did little to no sustenance. 5552 reflected on her life, or whatever fragments that was left in her deep void that she called it “memories”. 5552 forgot how many days it had been, she opened her eyes when she heard two distinct footsteps. There was no energy to stand, even to move her eyes. Whatever they spoke of went on to be mumbled.

“Are you certain she’s human?” A voice asked.

“There is no doubt.”Another voice answered.

The quaking footsteps followed after, growing closer and closer. She wasn’t sure if it was the same Space Marine, they all looked and sounded the same. The giant knelt, green cyclops eyes peering her closer. The creeping feeling came again but the sensation focused on her head.

“You have seen the growth of humanity.” The Space Marine said with a hint of astonishment. “Release her.”

“Are you sure Ahriman?”

“Yes, perhaps our Primarch will have a better understanding than us.”

5552 slowly came to, somehow feeling less tired and much more rejuvenated. There was a musty smell of parchments and ink, like the Administratum. Yet, there was that same creeping feeling but it led to this one giant ball of that sensation. 5552 looked up to follow that said sensation, there was a man in what she could call a throne with piles and piles of books surrounding it. Amongst many Primarchs in the Imperium none could be more obvious as Magnus the Red, given the color of his skin. There was something that she innately feared, the unsettling instinct of being overwhelmed in sheer power.

“So, you’re the child that Ahriman told me of. Tell me, what are you?”

“I'm just a human, my lord.” She Answered.

“No human merely stands up from injuries, child, and no human lives on for millenia.”

5552 wanted to scoff at the very words, if not for the fact that despite many years of her life living on Earth she hasn’t matured at all. She would live life to life, usually leaving one country to another every five years or so. Any wisdom she had would have was a speck of dust compared to them.

“Tell me then.” He leaned, resting his chin on his hand. “Why should I release you?”

I hope you will enjoy. Thanks to everyone that's kind to me. I read stories from /tg/ and wanted to contribute a story of my own. I hope you guys can enjoy it.

The questioned surprised 5552. Release her? What would be the point of locking her up? 5552 turned toward the giant double door only to see it shut with an audible thuum. Any windows or opening was too high and too narrow. She was trapped. It wasn’t death she feared, she died more times than she ate. It was the consequence.

“Why would you contain me in the first place?” 5552 asked.

“You are an anomaly. If it wasn’t for you unable to resist my sons of your custody you would’ve been killed immediately.The only reason you are standing unshackled is because I willed it.” The Primarch spoke with an air of superiority. “So, what is your answer, abnormal child?”

5552’s eyebrow twitched in slight annoyance. 5552 thought of a thousand answers. In her life she never met royalties before. She has seen them but never came face to face and certainly not with psycher powers.

“How do you want me to prove it?”

The crimson Primarch pondered, then answered with a small grin. “Tell me the earliest memory you have.”

Emotions are an anchor. The most sorrowful day she witnessed was the death of Jesus. She’s seen death, she didn’t remember any but assumed of it. Death by torture was the first. A man who wanted to do nothing but help was unjustly killed. For what reason? Because of faith? Differences? Someone that dies while begging for forgiveness for others even while being tortured. A man of true kindness, a son of God. Ever since Jesus Christ promised to return, she’s been waiting since. She still waited for him. The last hopeful day being his resurrection.

“So you have witnessed the folly of religion as my father has then, if he was truly the son of God he would’ve been saved. It is absurd to worship what is not real.” The Primarch said. “For your sake you better discard such thoughts.”

“Not anymore, but I do not believe religion is the root of all problems, it is ambition my lord.” 5552 said. “History has proved it and I have seen it.”

“Do you deny the Imperial Truth?” The Primarch’s voice slightly rose.

“I do not deny it, but it is not the whole truth. I am just a human, but I have walked with history. I am not here as a threat and only wish to live a peaceful life, if you will permit it.”

Magnus the Red did not react but merely listened. Eventually, 5552 was released with no words of what her future will be.

Reassignment

“Can I ask why my lord?” 5552 asked.

The Administratum Master looked up lazily, barely paying any attention to 5552’s surprised face. 5552 looked at her new transference parchment. She would be exclusively working with the Adeptus Astartes. She didn't mention which legion she would be working with but it still didn’t make sense. Only a Prefect of higher would attain the honor (or the dread) of working with one. It didn’t make sense to her, unless that Primarch had to do something with it. She didn’t remember any serfs working exclusively with the Space Marines.

“No, you may not know because even I don’t know. But I do not question, I follow.” The Prefect said lazily. “Dismissed.”

However, it didn’t matter what she thought. Her room was occupied by another adept, and wasn’t even given the chance to retrieve her personal items. She hoped her pet rock would give solace to the new resident. 5552 looked at the map to her new quarters, now in the upper level of the Palace. She read the transference parchment as she traveled the palace.

“To do whatever menial task is asked of, not attached to specific legions as of yet…” 5552 sighed. “That doesn’t sound good.”

5552 rested on the staircase that seemed to go on and on. The map may seem short but the direction did not explain how far she needed to walk. 5552 leaned her body on the staircase. Her legs and ankles ached. She looked up to see the stairs that she had to climb more, at this rate she would arrive in maybe a few hours to days. 5552 groaned as she stood up then began climbing the stairs once more. Whoever made the order her new position was a sadistic man for sure. 5552 trudged along the golden stairs, time stopped being time but a stagnant sensation. Eventually, reached the top where it seemed like the land of giants. 5552 felt accomplished, as she climbed the final step of the stairs she failed to see an astartes turning around the corner. As 5552 lost her balance she could only mutter one sentence.

“Not this shit again.”

Falling down the stairs was a new motif to 5552. She was no longer on the golden stairs but inside a large room on a soft bed, certainly larger than her previous room that is. It was rather simple, set up with the most basic utility items like a small apartment. It was not long until she realized a sticky note on her forehead. She squinted her eyes, the last time she used High Gothic was such long time ago. Being a normal usually meant using Low Gothic. 5552 read the note.

When you are awake, come outside of your room.

5552 stepped outside of her room. Only to see a giant woman clad in gold and bald or so she thought for a moment, she noticed the strange hairstyle that reminded her of a plumage on helmets.

Sorry for the late update, I wanted to treat you guys to a good art. 5552 looked up at the silent woman, clad in golden armor that merely looked at her. Her head began to hurt, with a feeling of uneasiness that she couldn’t help but be unable to ignore. The woman leaned down then reached out her hand. 5552 stood there confused, then slowly reached her hand out to grasp hers. With hands together and an understanding nod she led the way. The custodians and women of similar appearance merely glanced at 5552 before returning to their duty. The room she was led inside exploded in gaudy gold and other expensive looking furnitures. The woman gestured at the opulent couch. Then she gestured once more before leaving, though 5552 wasn’t sure what that meant this time. It’s been a few minutes inside the room that stank of decadence, she tried to open the door but only to discover it to be locked.

She wasn’t sure when but the door eventually opened, an old hooded man entered, carrying an eagle staff.

The hooded man was unlike the tall astartes that she was familiar with. Yet, he carried an aura like none other. His wrinkled face creased as he squinted his eyes at 5552, he rubbed his chin as he inspected her. He reached out his hand to touch her cheeks, turning her head one side to another with a low “hm” as he inspected further. 5552 didn’t bother resisting, she just knew doing so meant a worse fate than currently she was in.

“As humanity crawled out of its cradle you have walked alongside with it in the shadows.” The old man said. “You have seen much have you not?”

“I have, my lord. That is why I prefer to remain in the shadows.” 5552 answered.

The old man nodded, eyes scowling but his expression was calm. “You prefer to cower in the dark for self-preservation.”

“I am not a coward. I merely sought solace.” 5552 said.

“No matter what words you layer it, the truth is the same.” The old man said bitterly.

“Is self-preservation a crime? An ill sin that is to be glowered upon and to be ashamed of?” 5552 questioned, her soft eyes hardened. “The only thing humanity is capable of is death and destruction and I wanted no parts of it! So yes, I chose to hide in fear and spite! Does admittance finally satisfy you?”

“No, you are an immortal, you wasted your life in fear. Do you not wish to do more?”

“No. I tried and I won’t try again. Did you come here to tell me what I already know?”

The old man did not reply but simply left the room. 5552 was escorted back to her room, she preferred to call it a jail more than anything. 5552 lied on her bed, closing her eyes and the memories flooded back in. Fragments of memories crawled out of their graves in her moment of vulnerability.

She remembered the Crusade, a war that spilled blood like how the bishops would spill his wine in a drunken stupor.

She remembered Agincourt, and the cry of a girl as she was raped in front of the corpse that was her father.

She remembered Bastille, and all the heads that rolled after.

She remembered the Somme, and the young boy promised a life of happiness, a promise that went unfulfilled.

She remembered Pearl Harbor, and the sound of the fighter planes roaring in the air.

She remembered the wanton cruelty of humanity is capable of and acted upon.

She remembered why she gave up.

She remembered.

5552 swam in her memory. Humanity wasn’t worth it, or was she just too pessimistic enough to forget about the good times she had? She wasn’t like the Emperor with a grand idea of unifying humanity. She was human, that happened to be immune to fatal wounds and injuries. The door opened once again, this time two custodians entered. Same with the woman they silently beckoned her to follow. She was in what it seemed to be a large dressing room. The custodians left and the silent women entered after. In their hands were sets of clothing that only a High Lady would wear. No, a High Lady would wish to wear. 5552 didn’t resist as they stripped her clothes then helped her wear the new golden dress, bearing the aquila. She only wanted to know what was going on. Of course, her questions went unanswered.

After an ungodly hour of being dressed she was then ushered into the giant gold gate she saw before. She moved rather awkwardly due to the heavy weights of the dress and the hefty gold decoration dangling on her clothes. She walked awkwardly as the women behind her accompanied her behind. 5552 waited and waited until they arrived. The Emperor of Mankind and another man in power armor just as intricate as the Emperor’s. A rush of elation ran through her, any negative emotion gone. Sadly, it only lasted for a few minutes. 5552 squinted at the lights that shone out of the Emperor and didn’t bother to question how on Earth that would even work. The Emperor’s voice thoomed like an echo of a rung bell, yet his mouth did not move. His voice echoed inside her head.

Meeting with the Emperor

“I have not expected to see another.” The Emperor said, voice soothing yet authoritative. “Welcome.”

5552 with her knee on the floor. “I give you the most sincere greetings, my Emperor. It is an honor to be in your presence.”

“Stand.”

5552 did as she was told, almost stumbling thanks to the new weight of the dress. Her eyes briefly met with the man next to the Emperor, a charismatic man with a wolf pelt hung over his power armor, he simply nodded slightly then returned his attention to the Emperor.

“Malcador has informed me that you prefer to be inconspicuous rather than lead.”

“I do. That is where I belong.”

“I have witnessed what you have as well. Do you not see the potential of humanity?”

“I do not. Do you not remember when the Men of Iron attacked? And the disgusting barbarism that followed after?”

“He dares question father?” A voice said from the above

5552 looked up, seeing more uniquely armored giants.

There was a brief but volatile argument. One that filled with threats laid against 5552. She quickly averted eyes toward the top, then back to the Emperor. The arguments ceased immediately as the Emperor raised his hand with a slight glance toward the top as well. It was an amazing thing to see, like watching highly trained soldiers following orders to the very letter of the instruction. The Emperor’s attention returned to 5552.

“I understand your pain. I am here now and I will lead humanity to its rightful place. An individual that has seen humanity as long as I have is knowledge that humanity needs.” The Emperor declared as if 5552 already joined.

“I cannot not help you.”

“For what reason?” The Emperor asked calmly. “Do you not see what this Imperium can achieve?”

“All empires rise and fall.” 5552 answered. “You have witnessed it too.”

“I am here to take humanity at its helm to a new era.” The Emperor declared once more.

“Every conqueror has thought that my Emperor.” 5552 reminded. “While spilling blood across the fields like you are. You are a conqueror like many before you.”

5552 heard another argument but much more quiet, hushed in sharp whispers. At this point she couldn’t care much. It wasn’t her first time if she was to be imprisoned, she actually liked it since it made her feel one with the prison cell. Time was but an eternal shackle for her.

“I may be, but I am to unify humanity to a new light, not for my own greed.” The Emperor replied. “I cannot force you, I implore you to do so.”

The light surrounding the Emperor shone brighter. For some reason, 5552 believed it. That there was no malice or deception in the golden Emperor. 5552 wanted to believe him, that maybe this is what she was meant to do. Her cynicism and hope clashed. 5552 closed her eyes then looked up back to the Emperor.

“I will join you.”

There was a quick upward curve on the Emperor’s lips, something that could be registered as a stiff smile. 5552 watched the Emperor stand from his throne, the women behind her knelt, 5552 followed their movement but not before peeking up. The quick glance showed the Primarchs intensely focusing on their father, eagerly waiting but with stalwart vigilance. The room was silent, she no longer felt alone in the psychic conversation as she felt more presence surrounding her. She waited for whatever judgment that would be followed.

“Adept 5552. You are an immortal. Walked with humanity as much as I have. I have finally found another that has witnessed as much as I have. For that I am elated.”

“The honor is all mine, my Emperor. To hear your words is an immense honor I will ever achieve in my life.” 5552 answered mechanically.

“Your long life left you with nothing but hopelessness, despair, regret, wrath and sorrow. However, I also see jubilation, hope, passion, and love.” The Emperor said warmly. “You will guide my sons, not in the ways Malcador or I do. No, you will teach my sons what it truly means to be humans. Not as their mentors, but as their mother. From now on, they will be your sons, as will the rest of the Imperium of Man shall be."

There was a varied reaction from above once again. She heard a chastisement to a one named Lorgar. A smooth velvety voice laughing after predicting what his father will take next. Then another being named Fulgrim told to stay quiet once more after his insult to her appearance. There was a chatter again, different voices giving their opinions from the top. Their gaze rested on 5552, waiting for a response. She closed her eyes, then opened it again.

“I will accept my position. From now on, sons and daughters that fall under the Aquila shall be my sons and daughters.”

5552, hoped- no, she prayed. She prayed that history won’t repeat again.

Meeting the Primarchs: Rogal Dorn

Soon as 5552 was dismissed she returned to her new room, if she can call it a room. It was a grand penthouse. However, the gold she hated so much was now everywhere she went. She wouldn’t be safe from the yellow menace. Her existence wouldn’t be made known in the Imperium yet, for reasons she didn’t much care for. What she did care was that none of her sons arrived to meet her, for months on end she simply wandered around the palace in her new clothes which she didn’t care for at all. Sometimes a Custodian or a Sister of Silence that would enter a room and merely sit here or lay their head on her lap sometimes. She wasn’t against it, comforting was a mother’s job after all.

5552 sat in her bed, losing herself in the fragment of her memories. The giant double door of her room opened, a man with white hair and golden armor entered the room. She already knew who that was, already memorized her son's appearance, names, and other miscellaneous information. Rogal Dorn, the Primarchs of the seventh legion walked then knelt to her mother.

“Mother.” Rogal said stiffly. “I am here to greet you as your son.”

“There is no need for your kneeling, stand so I can see you better.” 5552 smiled warmly with a smile. “I am happy to meet you, my son.”

Rogal did not stand, his head was still staring at the ground. “I cannot. I have failed to greet because I did not wish to meet you without a reason as to not frivolously waste your time.”

“You do not need a reason to see your mother Rogal.” 5552 said. “Please, stand so I can see you better. I will always welcome you, with or without a reason. ”

Rogal stood up, he now looked down to his small mother. “That is why I have brought a gift for you.”

“Oh?”

The door opened once more, four astartes entered with a transparent crystal in its raw beautiful form.

“This crystal is from Inwit, the planet I was raised in. It is my gift to you mother.” Rogal said stiffly. “I will leave now.”

Rogal turned around to leave.

“Before you leave, how about some tea?

Rogal was already near to his door, when he turned 5552 already had a pot of tea and six cups already poured and ready wearing a gold weaved apron..

“You wouldn’t want your mother to drink this all by herself would you?” 5552 questioned weakly. “Your sons can join as well.”

Rogal turned to his sons, thanks to their helmet he could not gage the reaction of his men. 5552 watched Rogal close his eyes in resignation.

“I will join you, mother. So shall my sons.”

Meeting the Primarchs: Konrad Curze

(so my plan is to give at least one interaction with each primarch while slightly advancing the story. I’m rolling a d20 for which primarchs to do on)

It took a long time for Malcador and the Emperor on how to introduce her as the “Empress”, 5552 was eased in and was given no power to appease the lords. Though that didn’t stop other lords from assassinating her, First was poisoning, which led to having astartes escorting chefs. Second being wanton "accidents". Then the assassin themselves infiltrated the palace but never passed the vigilant guardians. Under the dark azure sky 5552 bathed in the moonlight among the flowers of the Imperial Garden. She hummed, smelling the flowers idly. A dark figure appeared behind her, a somber man with skin pale as the moonlight itself.

“So you’re Konrad.” 5552 said. “I wondered when I was going to meet you. Your brothers are quite shy much like you.”

Konrad remained stoic, as many other Primarchs were. “Where are your guards?”

5552 pointed at the custodes in the entrance of the garden, while . “They’re over there.”

“They should be accompanying you.”

“I’ll be fine on my own. Death is not a concern of mine.” 5552 said in a selfishly confident tone. “And I know you and your sons will protect me. Don’t think I haven’t seen you my son. I’m happy what you have come to meet me.”

5552 approached closer, Konrad took a step back.

“Let me see you closer.” 5552 took another step. She quickly grabbed Konrad’s hand, a portion of his glove that is. “Are you afraid of your own mother?”

Konrad remained silent, unmoving as she guided Konrad’s hand to her cheeks. The menacing claw only gained with a quick, indifferent glance. The skulls however needed a talking too, then again that would apply to all of her sons. She hoped they did not have that kind of inclinations.

“I know you’re not the cold monster that they see you of. It takes a noble and strong heart to wield cruelty without succumbing to madness. Remember this.”

“I… I will try, mother.” Konrad replied.

“You need no reason to see me, as I need no reason to see you.” 5552 pulled his hand. “Come, the flowers are beautiful at this time.”

Meeting the Primarchs: Vulkan

5552 rested in her room as always. It was a boring life. Roaming around the palace has lost it’s appeal after exploring most of the palace interior. Now, she was inside her room either sleeping, eating or… There was a soft knock. The door slightly creaked open, revealing a Sister of Silence peeking out of the door. 5552 beckoned her to enter as she sat on her bed. The sister first knelt, then with 5552’s gesture to rise the Sister would lie on her bed, resting her head on the Empress’s lap. Due to a Sister’s usual disposition 5552 could not tell when a Sister would fall asleep. Nevertheless, 5552 happily lent her lap to any sister, astartes, or a custodes. A mother’s genteel would never be spared for any children of the Imperium.

The land of Nocturne was a deathworld. There was nothing pretty about the planet or any resource the planet had. Only death awaited any that would be foolish enough to invade the planet. However, there was one bright aspect of the planet. The one source that made the planet Nocturne equal to an agri-world or even above them. The people. Their wrath was fierce as the beasts that lurked the planet. Their hearts, burning brighter than the lava of Mount Deathfire, would never dim. Yet, the people were also capable of levity and love unlike other planets. Just like the Salamanders’ brotherhood the value of family was instilled deep in the fiery deathworld. Vulkan was no exception, he was the embodiment of the spirit of Nocturne.

There were no grand marvels or bright jewels, the only jewels she saw were the bright ruby eyes of the people of Nocturne. 5552 wrapped her arm on Vulkan’s hand thanks to her height. Vulkan pointed to humble buildings. 5552 discovered that the reason why she has yet to meet all her sons was rather a petty reason. First impressions mattered and they were set on being the favored son. 5552 laughed as Vulkan explained.

“No wonder they refuse to see me.” 5552 said as she laughed. “A mother has no favorite, I love all my sons equally. Just like you love your people equally.”

“Mother, if I may ask. Were there other sons before us?” Vulkan asked carefully.

Vulkan saw a smile that he had never seen before. A smile of regret, happiness, and sorrow.

“No.” 5552 answered.

“No?”

“If you have lived as long as I have, you fear many things Vulkan. Losing loved ones is more fatal than any wounds.” 5552 said. “I know that you must fight, but do not throw your life frivolously Vulkan.”

“I will accompany you as long as I can mother. That is a promise.”

She smiled. “I will hold on to your promise. Let me see you closer, my son.”

Vulkan knelt, closing his eyes as his mother kissed his forehead.

“Lord Vulkan!”

The people called out. 5552 nodded understandingly. The child giggled as Vulkan lifted him, smiles all around wherever Vulkan would be. There was no need to teach Vulkan of humanity, for he already possessed it more than any of his brothers. Just as he can forge mighty weapons, she hoped he would forge indomitable bonds with his brothers that would last an eternity.

Meeting the Primarchs: Perturabo

The meeting with Perturabo was uneventful, he entered and spoke using the word “mother” sparingly. Perturabo asked what she saw in her long life, specifically of architecture, arts and philosophies. She spoke about great cities like Alexandria, Rome, and Constantinople that she once lived in. Perturabo absorbed all of her stories with intense fascination, especially her interactions with Socrates, Plato, Diogenes, Epicurus, and Bertrand Russell.

Two days after Perturabo visited again. He brought his mother to a bountiful agri-world that was closest to the old Terra she was familiar with.

“Behold, my gift to you.” Perturabo announced.

It was a wondrous sight. In the middle of a sea of wheat fields a building was erected in the style of the ancient civilizations 5552 talked about. There was a tall statue of 5552 at the entrance, sculpted by Perturabo. Inside the building, 5552 was stunned at what she saw. Artworks of ancient Terra were displayed in its full glory. There was an old portrait of a friend she once knew, a man named Vincent Van Gogh. Even works from Leonardo Da Vinci, an ambitious man that gifted her a hidden blade once. 5552 wiped a single tear from her eyes, she didn’t know how long it had been since she cried in joy.

“Does this satisfy you?”

“I love it.” 5552 said breathlessly. “It’s beautiful Perturabo.”

Perturabo awkwardly shifted as he saw his mother cry. He had seen death, wrath, and lamentation, but never tears of happiness.

“You can visit whenever you want, mother. There will be an escort frigate always prepared should you want to visit.” Perturabo turned to the exit. “I will leave you to enjoy it in peace.”

“Have I told you the story of my friend Vincent and Leonardo?” 5552 asked as she pointed at the portrait.

“No, you have not.” Perturabo answered.

“Then come, I will tell you.” 5552 extended her hand to her son. “You like these stories don’t you?”

They walked hand in hand as she colorfully retold of each artwork and her involvement in it. Perturabo did not speak but only listened, his fixed frown eased as he listened to his mother’s soothing voice. 5552 grabbed her son’s hand.

“No matter what manners of mud, grimes, dirt, and blood cover you. They will never snuff out the bright light that is you. Remember that Perturabo, my son, my Great Artificer of Terra.”

Meeting the Primarchs: Ferrus Manus

(this story is set after she had met most of her sons. Hope you’re all enjoying the story so far. I’ve read some comments and I’m happy to see it. This got longer than I expected. I'll reply after I'm done.)

5552 met most of his sons by now. Only a few were left, Mortarion, Corvus, Ferrus, and Angron were left for her to meet. 5552 laid in her bed in her personal quarters inside Battleship now named “Our Revered Golden Mother.” She wasn’t particularly fond of the name and actually preferred the old name “Stalwart Fist”. It was the Admiral’s decision when he discovered 5552 would be the highly prioritized escort.

After a tour of a planet that was recently conquered into the Imperium she was informed of an emergency vox message. The Primarch of the 10th Legion was wounded. A wound wasn’t to be worried but to wound a Primarch would be considered a deadly force. There was no hesitation on 5552’s decision. She ordered the battleship to intercept the Grand Cruiser Ferrrus was in. 5552 rushed into the bridge connecting her ship to Ferrus’s, her long mermaid gown weaved in gold fluttered. She briefly conversed with the Forrix, the 1st Captain of the Iron Hands.

“I apologize. My Empress. My father does not wish to be seen.”

5552 hesitated. “I see. He has ordered you to prevent me from seeing him?”

Forrix nodded regretfully. 5552 turned to her Admiral.

“Amiral Ludwig, are there any tasks that need your immediate attention?”

“No, my Empress.”

“Then give yourself and your men some time off. I will remain here.”

The Admiral saluted, then left to his ship. Forrix raised his eyebrow as he saw the Empress sitting on the floor.

“My Empress?”

“If Ferrus will not wish to see him. I will wait until he does. He hasn’t ordered you to prevent me from that, has he?”

“No, my Empress. Should I bring some food and water?”

5552 smiled. “A blanket would be nice as well dear.”

5552 peeked her eyes open. For hours now she waited for the Space Marines to leave her alone while she pretended to be asleep. It was then she heard door door open with a heavy footstep. She was lifted up then brought to a softer surface yet still hard as a floor. 5552 pretended to sleep, she waited for Ferrus to sleep.

“There’s no need for you to pretend. I can hear your breathing.” Ferrus said. “This is not how I wanted to meet you.”

“Oh.” 5552 said awkwardly, she sat up on Ferrus’s bed, seeing the bandages on his stomach and head. “Are you hurt?”

“You are wasting your time. Leave.” Ferrus said with a growl, he winced when he moved his arm.

“No.” 5552 said frankly. “Your bandaging needs changing. Stay there Ferrus.”

“What? I will not be-” Ferrus questioned

5552 leaned close to his son, locked in an intense staring contest. “Stay. There.”

5552 took the grudging silence as his compliance. After receiving more bandages she began to replace it. There was a tense silence shared between the mother and son.

“I didn’t want to see you like this.” Ferrus admitted.

“Like what?” 5552 asked,

“Like a weakling, a dog licking his wounds.”

She tightened the bandages more than the necessary strength. Ferrus winced lightly as a pressure stung his stomach.

“Don’t be drunk in your dangerous ambition then.” 5552 chastsized sharply. “You try too hard to compare yourself to your brothers when there is no need to.”

“How did you-”

“I am your mother Ferrus. You may not have noticed me but I do keep an eye on all of you. And don’t think I haven’t seen you training on your own every time you visited Terra.” 5552 cupped her hand on Ferrus’s cheeks. “Now listen to me. Each one of you are born with each special talent. Something your brothers all forget too many times.” Ferrus remained his stoic silence. 5552 finished her bandaging, she sat on the bed next to Ferrus.

“You are strong and ambitious Ferrus. You strive yourself to increase your limits every day and believe it or not your brothers follow your example, even Horus.” 5552 patted Ferrus’s arm. “Without you there will only be stagnation amongst your brothers. That’s why you can’t throw yourself to danger haphazardly, do you understand?”

“I do.” Ferrus replied.

“Good.”

5552 exited the room then returned with a large bowl of soup fit for a Primarch.

“What is this.”

“Chikinus Noodlus Souppette or Chicken Noodle Soup, I don’t know why it has such a complicated name now... “ 5552 scooped a good helping of chicken and noodle in the large spoon then blowed on it. “Now say ’ah’.”

“Mother, I can-”

“Do you dare defy your mother, Ferrus Manus?”

For a second, Ferrus swore he saw a flash of hidden wrath behind her peaceful eyes. A collection of bottled fury that shouldn’t be unleashed.

“N-no... “ Ferrus answered.

“Then say ‘ah’ sweetheart.”

“Ah…”

Personal Log of Sergeant Urose

+++Personal Entry+++

++1539801.M33++

+Sergeant Urose+

+[REDACTED] Company, [REDACTED] Regiment.

+Personal Log Entry+

+Auto Scribe No.52165135161+

When I heard when The Emperor took in a wife I expected someone just as mighty and majestic as him. I would’ve slapped my past self if I could, I’ve judged her appearance only. She was beautiful in her regal majesty, there was no doubt in that. What I didn’t expect was how… motherly she actually was.

The title “Mother of Imperium” is what I assumed to be a figure of speech, a symbolic representation. It was the usual. Parade, speech, inspection, then the tour of the base. No one could find her, not even the Custodians that guarded her. I merely assumed her to be with the Generals, until I saw the Custodian guarding the entrance to the mess hall. It couldn’t be, I thought. Yet there she was, serving every guardsmen with a simple ladle in her hand and a simple, colorless apron

This “Chicken Noodle Soup” and “Chicken Tenders” was not only filling but warm, simple, and charmingly rustic. like my mother’s cooking back home. The most confounding part was she knew the names of EVERY. SINGLE. Guardsmen. All 522,269 of them. From the lowest Privates to the highest officers, she knew of their home and life. She asked me how my sister did in her university and the flu I was getting over. Her stiff formality was gone and replaced with what you’d expect from a… well a mother. She called me “sweetheart” and referred to other guardsmen and officers as “Sweetie” “Dear” and “Sugar”.

Easy to say, the morale was at its highest after her visit. Though a pilot received non-judicial punishment due to painting our Empress on their bombers in a lewd manner. I should call my mother... see how she’s doing.

+++END OF LOG+++

Meeting the Primarchs: Fulgrim

Fulgrim was ostentatious at times, and his choice of clothing made 5552 worried for Fulgrim’s future as a mother. However, that was only the surface of him. He was possibly only one of few Primarchs that was trusted by Konrad, a feat not many could do. And he needed friends. 5552 knows how many times she tried to invite him to tea whenever he would arrive on Terra, eventually having to use her ship to force him with the thread of using the D-word (disappointed).

Inside 5552’s gilded cage she received a message from her bodyguard, Constantin Valdor. Fulgrim had come to make the “official first greeting”. It was a mess for 5552, he showered her with jewels, dresses, and delicacies. All she could do was thank him for his gift, a reaction that Fulgrim didn’t take well. He heard what Perturabo got, a title, the “Great Artificer of Terra”, a title he boasted to his brothers. As well as the story of Ferrus being fed by his mother. Even Konrad made a light show of boasting of his nightly tea with his mother. Konrad, the most brooding out of all his brothers.

Fulgrim bowed gracefully then left. Few years after he received the news of his mother fainting from overworking with the Administratum. Coincidentally, he was on Terra during that time. A beautiful plan hatched after. A well deserved day on his home planet, Chemos. It all started with a grand procession.

“How was it?” Fulgrim asked.

“It was great, my son.”

5552 remained a stoic smile as the horns blared her ears and the choirs sang. A golden carpet was rolled out for her. Then came the various activities.

5552 did not dislike it. It was rather packed however. At the spa, the servants filed her nails and combed her hair that’s been growing long while the others would massage her feet. Each servant would take turns feeding her one hundred different types of cheese, fruits, and sips of fine wine. By the turn of lunch she felt pregnant with so much food she consumed.

But she couldn’t say no to his face.

“Are you enjoying yourself, mother?”

“Of course I am dear.”

The amount of activities eventually kept up with her fatigue. The moment she stumbled, Fulgrim caught her then called the doctors.

“Mother are you alright?” Fulgrim asked.

“I’m alright. What else do we have left?” 5552 questioned. Fulgrim saw her weak smile. He chastised himself for not realizing it sooner. She may have been an immortal, but her body was still that of a human. Even Angron realized that, that was why he said he would never approach her.

“We have one more.”

Tired but still keeping a restful smile she was finally led to the top of the palace, where the view of the planet was laid before her.

“My, Fulgrim. This place is beautiful.” 5552 sat on her high chair. “And the tea is well brewed.”

“I am glad, mother. I have brewed it myself.” Fulgrim said. “As well as the pastries and the chair. This room was made by my hand.”

“That’s also wonderful as well, my son.”

5552 looked out in the sky. Mountains upon mountains that have yet to be carved. 5552 sipped on the relaxing tea then closed her eyes, letting the wind cool her body.

“I have another gift for you, mother.” Fulgrim said.

“Oh?”

Fulgrim presented a magenta color, just like his armor. The intricate patterns were weaved with gold with small gems between the patterns. 5552 placed it around her neck.

“It's beautiful, Fulgrim. Thank you.” 5552 said.

“Did you enjoy your day?”

“Of course I have.”

Fulgrim shifted in his seat. A peaceful silence shared between was tense for Fulrgrim.

“Next time, we can do little less with fanfare.” 5552 admitted. “I will be happy as long as you’re with me.”

“I see.” Fulgrim said.

5552 walked to his chair, holding his hand.

“I know you did this for me and I did enjoy it. Your company is all I need to be happy Fulgrim.” 5552 looked at her hair, slightly fringe. “Fulgrim, be a dear and fetch a comb, My hair is a mess.”

For the rest of the night 5552 and Fulgrim simply talked as he combed her hair. Enjoying the cool night.

Fulgrim and the Khan

The hall boomed with the echoes in a one sided clash of words. 5552 ran into where the argument took place. She recognized the first voice being Fulgrim, the other voice however was either too small or didn’t exist.

“You think your barbaric mess of swordsmanship will defeat me?” Fulgrim questioned. “Your arrogance will do you no good, brother.”

Jaghatai remained stoic, never flinching. “I do. Because you boast of your skill while mine is unknown. I will defeat you.”

“Is that so?” Fulgrim questioned. “You are a coward and you are afraid to lose. Draw your sword if you are so certain then.”

The two Primarchs were close, with Fulgrim’s hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Fulgrim!”

5552 entered the room, Sanguinius and Ferrus avoided her gaze, as if to say “we tried”. Before their mother’s attention would turn on them, the two Primarchs exited the room. After a quick chastisement to Fulgrim 5552 saw Jaghatai leave the room. 5552 followed Jaghatai.

“Jaghatai, are you alright?”

“I am.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

5552 paused, so did Jaghatai.

“You know you can confide in me.” 5552 offered sincerely. “I will always be there for you, my son.”

“I know that as well. Is there anything else you need?” Jaghatai asked.

“No... “

“Then by your leave.”

5552 stopped following Jaghatai. All she could do was watch him leave, becoming smaller and smaller as he left her.

Meeting the Primarchs: Angron

To 5552 the title Empress of the Imperium was a mere title to her. Her job was only being a mother. She would love her sons and guide them and to teach them what it meant to be human. That’s all she expected, she wasn’t like the Emperor, never was and never will be.She didn’t fear death, but it was painful. Today’s audience was Kharn, the Captain of the 8th Assault Company. Kharn knelt at her presence.

“Captain Kharn, what is it that you wish to speak to me?” 5552 asked.

“My Empress, it is my Primarch. The Astartes of the World Eaters begs for your help.” Kharn asked. “My father is fighting my Captain-Brother, and I fear he will kill him if it goes on. I ask you to help my father to listen to reason.”

5552 grimaced as she pitied Angron and his sons. “I will do what I can, my child. Bring me to your father.”

5552 witnessed a carnage in the training fields. The astartes was on the ground, defeated.

“INCOMPETENT! YOU THINK YOU HAVE A PLACE IN MY LEGION WITH YOUR SKILLS?”

From the stands she shouted. “Angron that is enough!”

Expectedly, she was ignored, drowned by the carnage unfolding. A golden gauntlet prevented from descending from the stands.

“My Empress, you can’t-”

5552 brushed Constantin’s hand away from her shoulder then ran down stairs. She shouted but it didn’t matter. In the midst of Angron’s swing the edge of the chain ax slit open 5552’s throat. The Custodians immediately descended the stairs after her, despite her order to stay in the stands. It was then Angron realized what he had done. He saw the woman meant to be his mother on the floor, dead.

“You… when did you.”

The entire arena was silent, Angron could only watch the Custodian help 5552 back up. The glistening gold gown was muddied with her blood. Angron knelt.

“Angron…”

“I ask for death to atone for my action.” Angron said with his head lowered all too readily.

Angron closed his eyes, thinking of his comrades he was forcibly tore apart from by his “father”. It was funny, he expected to die in a battle but never an execution. Instead of the merciful blade, something soft embraced him instead.

“It was only an accident. It was my fault that you didn’t see me.” 5552 said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I killed you, I should’ve seen you but I-.”

“That wasn’t you, it was that horrid entrapment. You couldn’t help it. This wasn’t your fault.” 5552 said. “I’m sorry that there’s no other way to free you, my son, but this suffering that you bear isn’t yours alone. Even if I have to fly a thousand years I will come to find you. Please don’t try to bear it alone.”

Angron silently nodded.

Interlude

The Word Bearers

She was a usurper like the Emperor. Erebus knew this to be true. It wasn't that she tried to stop the burning of Monarchia, she encouraged it. Erebus knew it, and so did Kor Phaeron. It was only Lorgar that refused to believe such a lie. That woman was the only thing that prevented Lorgar and the legion’s true ascension. Unlike the Emperor however, she was no warrior, philosopher, or even a scholar. He only needed to worry about her honor guards.

The Emperor’s fall would come. Erebus knew it, the gods willed it to be and he was the agent. First, he needed to set the stage. It was because of her that the Primarchs worked together. She needed to disappear so he could set the stage. Her immortality was no problem for him, he needed her gone, and there were fates worse than death.

Lion El'Jonson

5552 tried and tried again. As she expected, no one ever picked up her messages. Even Sanguinius and Horus couldn’t make him speak to her. She wasn’t asking much, all she wanted was to converse him, ask him how he was and what he was doing. This would be the same situation with Corvus, Alpharius & Omegon, and Mortarion. He would not speak to her. On a truly seldom occasion would Lion El’Jonson arrive on Terra. However, that didn’t mean she could even reach him. The captains of his legion would deny her entrance every time.

“Again?” 5552 asked.

The captain nodded solemnly. “I apologize, my Empress. Father has strictly forbidden you from meeting him.”

“Is there a reason he doesn’t wish to see me?”

“Not that I know of, my Empress.”

“Then can you at least tell him that I want to see him? Only a few minutes of his time will do. Please.” 5552 said desperately.

The captain shifted slightly, uncomfortable at the sight of the Empress pleading. Maybe she was a psycher or truly a mother of Imperium. She knew it wasn’t his fault. Yet, the captain felt guilt as if it was.

“I can only deliver him the message, but I am uncertain if he will listen to it.”

“That’s all I need. Please.”

Inside Lion El’Jonson’s quarters inside his Hunter-Class Destroyer “The Undoubted.” he contemplated as usual. Each footstep was heavy with thoughts.

“My Primarch. Our Empress has a message for you.”

“If it is the same message as last time, I don’t need it. Leave.” Lion El’Jonson said. “How is she?”

“She is healthy, no injuries or illness far as I could tell.”

Lion El’Jonson knew his “mother” was an important figure. She was the rope that tied his brothers together. If she was cut, all would be loose back to how it was.

That’s why he couldn’t speak to her, not now at least. He relied on his wits and instinct alone in the deadly forest of Caliban. Now, his instinct spoke to him again, screaming at him. Mother was in danger, and the threat was close, hiding in plain sight. Mother would be another responsibility he burdened himself with. For when she falls, so would the Imperium.

Meeting the Primarchs: Magnus the Red

When 5552 was asked to come to see her gift she assumed it to be books. She was half correct, it was books, but also a personal library on Prospero, with books from Old Terran era. Adorned with crystals and intricate wall patterns. Magnus sat across from his mother, his chin rested on his hand that was propped up by an elbow on the arm of his chair. Like Perturabo he listened to his mother’s tale of her life. Fragmented may be, he still found a fascination with it.

“This Jesus, have you ever spoken to him?”

“Only once, he called me because I knew an apostle of him. I wish I didn’t know him.” She admitted, her hand gripped tightly around the mug. “All for thirty pieces of silver…”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you how I saw Jesus crucified. It was because of him that he was tortured.” 5552 calmly sipped on her mug. “A vile man he was.”

“Mother.” Magnus said carefully. “If I may ask, do you still remember your name?”

“Trying to get one on your mother?” 5552 asked playfully.

“Curiosity, that is all mother.” Magnus said appeasingly with a short chuckle. “If father saw you fit, you must’ve done something. Mother? Are you there?”

5552 closed her eyes. She shifted in her library to look for her names. How long has it been since she told her name? How long has it been when someone asked? “Mother” might as well have been her name. She opened her eyes, on the stack of books she saw a book that she well remembered.

“They used to call me ‘The Lady with the Lamp’. What was it… right, Florence Nightingale. That was a name I was fond of.” 5552 said, reminiscing. “ Another name I was fond of was Catherine of Siena.”

“They are poetic names. What about the name you were born with?” Magnus asked.

“When you have so many names you forget which one came first, my son.” 5552 admitted. “I live long but unlike your father my body is not of an immortal warrior, I’m but a woman that happened to live long.”

“You are compassionate, unlike father. Understanding as well.”

“And you are too. You are the only son that I speak about my faith.” 5552 said. “If your brothers could be open minded as you are they would get along so much better.”

“Thank you mother. I appreciate that.”

“There’s no need to thank Magnus. I only spoke the truth.”

Magnus saw that his mother wasn’t aware of the true weight of the words, but seeing her smile was enough for him. As the comfortable silence passed the low hum of the crystal filled the room. 5552 saw a book that she never expected to see. A book written by her old old friend.

“Oh, I didn’t know you would have this one. I helped her write this book.” 5552 said.

Magnus levitated the book from her hand.

“Frankenstein? What an odd name.” Magnus said.

5552 moved her chair next to Magnus excitedly. “I’ll read it for you, this is a favorite of mine.”

Meeting the Primarchs: Roboute Guilliman

Roboute found the new implementation of a “Mother” in the Imperium to be rational. She was a niche support that provided emotional replenishment that some of his brothers needed. The rationalization he made was that of perfect sense to him.

This situation didn’t.

Respite was a seldom thing. But his work was never done. If he wasn’t fulfilling his role as the Primarch of the Ultramarines he oversaw the day to day needs of Ultramar. In his personal quarters he nearly *nearly* flinched. There she was, his “Mother”. In a simple apron with tied up hair.

“Ah Roboute, your Captain allowed me in. I hope it’s not a bother.”

“I see.” Roboute said stiffly, he made a mental note to find whichever Captain it was. He didn’t like that he wasn’t informed of important things and there was no procession. Meaning this visit was meant to be a secret.

“And you are here to discuss a matter with me?”

“No?” 5552 answered

“Why did you come here if it’s for no important reason?” Roboute asked.

“I just wanted to cook you dinner.” 5552 laid a set of simple meals. “Are you hungry?”

“I am not.”

“Oh…” 5552 looked at the meal dejectedly. “I’ll have wrapped so you can eat it later then, dear.”

Roboute pinched the bridge of his nose. Does this woman not realize he and his brothers didn’t have the flaws of a human? Nevertheless, his father appointed her as Mother of Imperium. Formality was still necessary.

“I’ll eat it now.”

5552’s face beamed up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Roboute and 5552 sat across in a dining set that clearly wasn’t there before. If it was, he would’ve known.

“How’s work going dear?”

“It is going as planned.” Roboute answered, this was nothing but a glorified progress report. “There are only a few troubles.”

“What are they?”

Roboute explained, then ate, over and over. Even when the plate was clear he continued to speak about his small issues to one at large. By the time he finished he wasn’t sure why he let it all out. 5552 looked out the window, the night sky draped over the Macragge.

“My it’s already this late.” 5552 said,

She stood from her seat then beckoned Roboute to come closer. When his face was close to hers she laid a quick kiss on his cheeks and a pat on his head.

“I’ll leave you to rest, I’ll see you soon, dear.”

Roboute continued to be in his chair, stunned. There was warmth in him that he expected to never feel again. Roboute looked at the night sky, remembering his father and mother before Gallan murdered them. Roboute knew his father would be proud of what Macragge became today. Roboute opened a new parchment and an inkwell, then began to plan a procession for his mother when she would visit him again.

Meeting the Primarchs: Corvus Corax

5552 rested inside her gilded cage as usual. In her times being confined in the golden jail she learned the finer things of life. Like make up. A hobby that has occupied her ever since he received the finest makeup from the Custodians and Sisters of Silence.

If 5552 had to choose the opposite of Leman, she would most likely choose Corvus, with Konrad coming to a close. Maybe Lionel if it came to personality.

Other than Leman’s bombastic introduction, the total opposite of him was Corvus Corax. The only glimpse she has ever seen of his face was when she spoke to the Emperor the first time. Even now she had yet to see her son’s face fully.

She knew he visited her. It was the little things that she noticed. Her first gift was a small music box of ancient terran music left on her nightstand. Another gift was a small crystal from Deliverance. 5552 examined the crystal in her hand then she sighed as she lay on her bed lazily. She looked out at the gleaming moonlight.

“Looks like it’ll be a good night for a walk.

The moon draped over the garden with pale light. 5552 enjoyed nights more than days. Most likely because of her habit of hiding away from humanity. She would never know the true reason, time tended to do such things.

At her personal garden she saw a trail of large black feathers. She followed the trail through her flower gardens then to the rows of sculptures Perturabo made for her. 5552 arrived at the end of the garden where the trail ended. A large raven idly waited, idly preening its feather intermittently. 5552 didn’t know how but the raven looked at her as if it registered its new owner. 5552 reached her hand and the raven perched on it. There was a note tied to the raven’s leg.

“You will always be safe, for I will be in your shadow. No dangers shall harm you, nevermore.”

5552 observed the raven, it was obvious who it was. There were no other Primarchs with the legion named Raven Guards but Corvus Corax.

“Well aren’t you a darling sugar lumps? Just what name should I give you?” 5552 cooed at the raven.“Corvus. Who’s a cute raven, you are! You are Corvus! You’re a cute raven, oh yes you are!”

She swore she heard the bush rustle after that.

Meeting the Primarchs: Leman Russ

5552 ran her lightly colored pink lipstick carefully, skillfully like painting in a delicate canvas. Then-

“MAM!”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

The line of the lipstick ran across her cheeks as 5552 yelped in surprise. She turned to the source of the sudden slam of her door. His blond hair flowed down with a wicked smile, baring his fangs. 5552 dab the lipstick away before speaking to Russ.

“Who is this Jesus?” Russ asked.

“N-no, it’s nothing. You are Leman Russ correct?”

The hulking giant knelt to his mother, even so he was still above her eye level, his voice was solemn like the majestic wolves of Fenris. “I’ve come te greet you as yer son. I am named Leman Russ.”

His words were difficult to understand. There was a mix of guttural accent with gothic.

5552 smiled. “Stand, a son shouldn’t kneel to his mother. I take your pledge happily.”

Russ instead remained kneeled but looked up with a smile. “No, I can see you this way better mam.”

“Oh. You do have a point. ” 5552 “What can mo- woaaah!

Russ pulled 5552 into a strong but not a bone crushing hug, then lifted her up to his arm. Like a bird perching on a tree branch. 5552 held on to Lema’s pauldrons as he ran to his ship. Leman set his mother to the ground. There, sons of Russ bowed.

“You are a brave one, mam. Talking to my father like that. I will prepare a great feast for you mam in Fenris someday. For now, my sons and I will welcome you as Mother of Fenris.”

Meeting the Primarchs: Sanguinius

5552 didn’t remember what followed after. But she woke up with the worst hangover in centuries, and she was certain that she died at least once from Fenrisian ale. The door to her room opened. Constantin entered the room silently.

“My Empress.” Constantin called gently.

“Hmm… whattt?”

“You have a meeting with the High Lords today.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I will send my men in an hour.”

5552 buried her head to her blanket.

Upon a great conquest on a hostile planet a parade was held on Terra. 5552 was happy that her son succeeded. 5552 liked watching parades from afar. However, being a part of the parade was another issue. Constantin and Sisters of Silence held out a long gown, longer than the usual. The kind that she tripped on most of the time.

“Perhaps something shorter and practical will be more appropriate?” 5552 asked.

“It is an Honor Procession. You know this by now.”

“Of course.” 5552 said. “I’ll get ready…”

5552 made her usual strained smile during the whole parade, it was a parade, not an “Honor Procession”. 5552 knew a parade when she saw one. People of Terra showered 5552 with much fanfare and praise, in front of her was Sanguinius, happily waving to the people from the high pedestal. Their eyes met for a moment, the two exchanged quick smiles.

After the parade ended 5552 rested on the balcony, holding on to a wooden rosary she made recently. She no longer had her faith but it was comfortable to have it. She lived long enough to attain some manner of sixth sense. She just knew a chain of terrible events would occur soon.

Suddenly, a great shadow casted over, a black winged figure blocking the moonlight

“Mother!” Sangunius walked over to her, smiling. “Why do you appear so crestfallen?”

“I’m fine, son.” 5552 said. “Why are you here?”

“Does a son need a reason to seek his mother?”

5552 smiled, “Of course not.”

Sangunius stood next to his mother at the balcony.

“Is something wrong mother?” Sangunius asked.

“I’m fine son.” 5552 said.

“You’re not.” Sangunius. “Not when you’re staring aimlessly with a melancholic frown. You burden yourself with our worries so why can’t I do the same with you?”

“Sanguinius. Can you make a promise for your mother?”

Sanguinius cocked an eyebrow. “Of course, mother. What is it?”

“Stay with me as long as possible. Whatever obstacle you face, please don’t fall.” 5552 said.

Sanguinius laughed. “I’ve never seen you like this mother.”

“Promise me.” 5552 repeated.

Sanguinius nodded solemnly. “I will. What kind of son would I be if I can’t hold a promise?”

Meeting the Primarchs: Lorgar

Sweats dripping off of her forehead 5552 sat up on her bed. She looked outside the balcony, the light outside told her it was time for her to wake up. Ever since the Council of Nikaea the relationship between the Primarchs strained despite her best efforts. In the highest tower of Monarchia, Lorgar and 5552 shared a meal. The taste was soured as she one again debated over her and The Emperor’s divinity.

“Son, your father had told you so many times to cease worshipping him as a God. What makes you believe I will agree with you?”

“You have been with humanity when it was in its cradle. Surely the gift of immortality is a sign of your divinity, mother.” Lorgar reasoned.

“No.” 5552 disagreed flatly. “That is not it. You must stop, Lorgar. I’ve only agreed to come to Monarchia to stop you before anything worse happens by your father.”

“Surely father will-”

“Son, please.” 5552 said with a calm frown. “This has gone far enough. Your father tried to reason with you multiple times. You need to stop worshipping as a god.”

“You were once one of the faithful. Weren't you, mother?”

5552 sighed. “Once. Long time ago. Do you remember when I first spoke to your father? I’ve never said religion wasn’t the problem, it was ambition and religion.”

“Even so, someone magnificent as father deserves-”

“My lord.”

Erebus interrupted, he bowed to the Empress. “Apologise my lord, there are some matters that you are needed to be for.”

Lorgar sighed. “I’ll be there. I apologize, mother. I will make my leave.”

“My Empress, was the food to your liking?” Erebus asked. “I’ve made it myself.”

“It was excellent Erebus, as always.” 5552 gaze sharpened to Lorgar. “Do not disappoint your father Lorgar, and me.”

Slumber

As 5552 returned to Terra, a sudden drowsiness took over.

“My Empress? My Empress!”

5552 opened her eyes. “Yes?”

“You were asleep for the entire day. Are you alright?” A Custodian asked

“I must be tired... “ 5552 said. “Is there something that you need?”

“Only to announce that we’ve arrived on Terra, my Empress.”

5552 yawned. “Good, I think I’ll be going to sleep early. I just don’t know why, but I’m just so… tired.”

5552 closed her eyes, delving into a long slumber into the darkness.

The Mother of Imperium’s eternal slumber strained the strength of the rope that held the Primarchs together. It was soon discovered by Malcador that she was poisoned by the supplier of the ingredients for the meal shared with Lorgar and his mother.

“You accuse my sons and I for her illness?” Lorgar questioned. “My people are the most faithful for our Father and Mother. You dare accuse us of the entire crime of one man?”

“The man that poisoned the ingredients stated that the Empress needed to be sacrificed for The Emperor’s true ascension.” Konrad coldly replied. “If not for your ceaseless faith mother wouldn’t be the way she is now. It is your treachery that will bring death to Monarchia. Not that man”

“If you will lay your bloodied hand on Monarchia I will-”

“Do what?” Konrad questioned uncaringly. “Father has ordered me to bring punishment to your foolish capital. If you stop me or evacuate your citizens, you defy father’s order. Now stand out of my way.”

Lorgar’s teeth gritted to a hateful scowl. Despite it, he stood aside, watching Konrad leave for his ship with his sons. That day, Monarchia was no more. The icy wrath of the Night Lords was recorded to be the worst retribution the galaxy had ever witnessed.

The sons of the Night Haunter knelt, silently seething in rage just like his father did. Jago Sevatarion approached his father with a solemn grimace.

“Is it time father?”

Konrad nodded, he turned to address his sons. “My sons, our mother, the woman that stepped into the shadows to embrace us in all our bloodied glory is no longer awake. The sons of Lorgar had betrayed our mother and the Imperial Truth, and that is why the Emperor has sent us. To make a special example for all the galaxy to witness. The dogs of Fenris would only rip their throat as punishment. We will pluck out their eyes, rip their tongues, crush their innards out of their mouths and hang their mangled corpse. We will virus bomb their capital and burn it to the ground until nothing is left.Tonight, the galaxy will immortalize us as the Empress’s vengeance manifested. For the Night Mother. Rise my sons. Rise, my Night Lords.

Time was the most destructive nature of the universe. Anything that was, and what will be always disappeared over time. Soon, so would the Empress of the Imperium. Everyone would forget as time always did.

But not her sons.

“Are you certain of this?” Malcador asked. “She holds little value in the whole of the Imperium.”

“She is a Perpetual and holds many of my son’s hearts. For now she must be kept safe. Make the preparation. All my sons are out in the stars this is the only opportunity to move her without resistance from my sons.” The Emperor commanded. “Do what needs to be done.”

“If they question where she is?” Malcador questioned.

“It is for her safety. They have come to love her, if they truly value her safety they will not question me.” The Emperor. “We are close to achieving my vision, I need them focused.”

Lines of Custodians entered the Empress’s room, dimly lit by the candles on the walls. Gently, they lifted her into a gold capsule. Malcador accompanied the Custodians to the ship. On a remote moon on Saturn named Titan.

There the Custodians placed the capsule in the stasis chamber, then began their eternal guard of the Empress of Imperium.

The passing of the Empress was silenced. Years passed by, the Primarchs separated one by one returning to their old ways. Bitter fights broke out between them, inciting insults and feuds. Magnus, Mortarion, Angron, Fulgrim, in search of a cure for their mother.

In the Grim Darkness of the Far Future...

Discovery

++Grey Knights Garran Crowe++ ++921.M41 ++Sanctum Sanctorum, Aurumina Domina++

Cloaked in the shadows of Mount Anarch, the holy fortress monastery of the Grey Knights silently existed, guarding destructive artifacts and lores of old. In the deepest depths of the Sanctum Sanctorum an ancient room existed, rumored to be built by the order of The Emperor himself during the beginning of Horus Heresy.

“-save them. The Imperium will be in its full glory again.”

The raspy voice from the Blade of Antwyr whispered like nails scratching the steel surface of his mental fortress. Everyday was an eternal test of his will and prowess. Crowe entered the Supreme Grand Master’s chamber. It was rare of him to call his presence.

“Supreme Grand Master.” Crowe greeted.

Supreme Grand Master Kaldor Draigo nodded, looking out the stars in the windows. He beckoned Crowe to follow.

“Crowe. How is your spirit?”

Crowe cocked his eyebrow under his power helmet. “Stalwart.”

The Supreme Grand Master huffed lightly. “Come.”

Crowe followed the heavy steps of the Supreme Grand Master. Below the Librarium Daemon another gate stood, intricately engraved with a figure of a woman. There was wisdom in her kind smile, Crowe felt like he knew her. The ground rumbled as the gate opened.

“Have you heard of the Empress of the Imperium?” Draigo asked.

Crowe hid his confusion. “She is the forgotten mother of Humanity. She had love for all her sons. Only to be betrayed by the traitor Primarch Lorgar. There are no records of what happened to her after.”

“Correct, except for the last part.”

With the gate completely open Draigo and Crowe entered the dimly lit chamber. Inside of the vast space a single gold capsule stood alone. Draigo gestured to him to approach closer to the capsule. Crowe’s eyes widened. He never saw the face of the Empress, no one has in a ten millennia. There was no face ever depicted, yet he could feel it.

“This can’t be…” Crowe muttered. “She… she lives?”

“Asleep.” Draigo corrected. “Even now the betrayal of the Primarchs affects a perpetual like her. It was ten millennia ago that Malcador the Sigilite brought the Empress to Titan. It was here that began the Grey Knights.”

“If this place is holy why would you show it to me?” Crowe asked perplexedly.

“You will soon tread the eternal path of solitude.” Draigo said. “You can find respite here. Pray here, you have earned it.”

The Supreme Grand Master’s lips curved upward slightly, he patted Crowe’s pauldron then left the holy sanctum. For a moment, the vile voice of the sword stopped, drowned by the kind aura that was the Empress. He felt comfort for the first time in his life. He closed his eyes, and thanked the Emperor and the Empress for this moment.

Tremors in the Warp

+++The Citadel of Titan+++ ++975.M41++ ++Augurium++ +Prognosticator Manus+

In the highest point of the Citadel of Titan, the mirrored chamber of Augurium reamineed ever more stalwart above the toxic skies of Titan. Prognosticator Manus sensed another strange sensation of the warp. It was warm, welcoming, an obvious ruse of a daemon. The warp trembled again. His sharpened instinct grasped the trembling warp instantly. There it was again, it wasn’t a tremor but a benign shake. Prognosticator Manus wasn’t certain how to register this odd tremor. It wasn’t full of malice, and it was… close yet so faint.

“-am I?”

Manus turned sharply to the whispered voice. His battle-brothers turned to him, with just as much confusion with the same understanding. Prognosticator Captain Justician approached.

“You have moved your body sharp as if you sensed something abnormal.” The Captain stated.

“I sensed the strangest tremor here below. We must descend quickly.” Manus said psychically.

The Captain paused to sense the tremor. “It is nothing, continue your duty.”

Manus did not question the Captain, but was still confused. “Absolve me of my curiosity Captain. What is below there?”

“It is nothing to be worried about. Continue your duty and I will report to the Supreme Grandmaster.”

Captain Justician made another mental note of the tremor. Perhaps the neophyte Prognosticators didn’t sense but he knew what it was. There’s been more reports of the Empress’s presence. Soon, she would make her return soon. One day, she would awake from her eternal slumber and guide humanity’s heart once more.

Awakening

++Grey Knights Garran Crowe++ ++985.M41++ ++Sanctum Sanctorum, Aurumina Domina++

There was no such thing as coincidence or luck, the Grey Knights didn’t believe in such foolish things. All was according to the Emperor's guidance. That was why the Empress’s awakening occurred when he was in his seldom visit. Crowe, along with Supreme Master Kaldor Draigo with Paladins and Purifiers descended to the Golden Chamber. The heavy footsteps of the Terminator squads followed after them. To the Grey Knights, this was a place that they never knew it even existed until now.

The alarm blared as the Grey Knights prepared themselves for whatever would come after. Nevertheless the Grey Knights knew it was no daemon. They didn’t know how but just knew it. The Prognosticator confirmed it to not be a daemon as well. However, there was no such thing as flawlessness even among the Grey Knights. Only the God Emperor was.

“Open the capsule.” The Supreme Grand Master commanded.

The capsule began to unfold. First, the main latches were released, then the thick armor of the capsule peeled open. Beneath the layers of armor a gold capsule laid beneath it, still in a pristine condition. The final door released a sharp hiss of pressured air, as it opened the steam covered a thin figure that stumbled out.

A woman in a gold weaved dress stumbled out of the capsule, clutching her head. She stared at the Grey Knights confusingly.

It was a long dream, a very long dream full of blank emptiness yet full of memories. 5552 looked into the space, colors of purple hue that seemed to change every time she would blink. She saw her sons, performing vile acts in a monstrous form that could only be in a nightmare. Every time she would see them would be as if it was her first time, reliving the horror perpetually. Then suddenly, there was a surge of power that pulled her consciousness as if to tell her it was time to wake up.

5552 gasped as if she had been underwater for decades. The moment she jerked forward her head hit the glass of the capsule. A dull thunk echoed inside the capsule.

“OW!” 5552 shouted, her shout bounced inside the capsule.

5552 felt around the glass that encapsulated her. She banged on the capsule over and over, she began to shout for help. No help arrived, the view outside was muffled by the frosted glass. The only thing she could see was blurry figures of astartes. 5552 waited as she heard the sounds of the capsules opening. When it did, she was met with rows of heavily armed astartes.

5552 clutched her head as she stumbled out of the capsule. The throbbing headache didn’t rest. 5552 stared at the astartes. She never knew the likes of them existed. The grey astartes kneeled in her presence, with the bearded man kneeling her the closest.

“My Empress, you’re awake.” The man’s voice was low, as if he was holding something back. “I never thought I’ll see the day.”

5552 merely smiled, but failed to hide her confusion. “Greetings, child. Just which Legion do you belong to? And where am I?”

“You are in Titan, the Fortress Monastery of the Grey Knights.”

“Grey Knights? That’s not a Legion I’m familiar with.”

The astartes looked up, his face was painted with solemn grief. “I believe I have much to tell you.”

5552 walked alongside the astartes that introduced himself as Supreme Grand Master, Kaldo Draigo. It was an answer that produced more questions than answers. 5552 stared at the vast space out the windows of the Fortress Monastery.

The astartes behind her gave her fear more than comfort. Something didn’t feel right, and their heavy silence wasn’t alleviating her worry either. The new astartes merely had an air of grimness to them. Any questions she asked either was answered vaguely and told her to wait until they reached a room. 5552 clutched her head intermittently out of frustration and pain. Despite her questioning he didn’t answer.

“What’s going on, why was I inside that capsule?”

“...”

“Where are my sons?”

“...”

5552 stopped following and waited, the astartes behind her stopped as well, but blocked the other way. Kaldor kneeled to see her face to face.

“My Empress, I beg of you to wait until we have escorted you to a safe place. I will give you my answer then.”

5552 held her frown long as she could but ended with a resigned sigh. “Please, child. An answer is all I-” 5552 hissed as her head throbbed again. “I seek.”

“Yes, my Empress. You have my word.”

5552 entered a wide empty room with the view of space. She was led to a frigate. After 5552 had tied her grown out hair to a containable braid, she was given a stiff seat while Kaldor sat across.

“I apologize, my Empress. This place has no item of comfort and this is the closest we have.” Kaldor apologized.

“It’s not a problem. Please, just tell me what happened. I just want answers.”

“You were asleep for ten millenia. It is now the 41st millennium.”

“I see…” 5552 said.

“You’re receiving news quite easily.” Kaldor stated. “Before I fell asleep, I just knew something wrong would happen. If it only means sleeping for ten millennia. This is the first time that it happened to me. I suppose you can still experience new things.” 5552 said with a light chuckle.

Kaldor’s face hardened. “There is an explanation. Your son, Lorgar had you poisoned.”

5552’s light levity ceased the moment those words left his mouth. The room chilled, Kaldor saw the cold fury of a woman that most likely was born before humanity could even crawl. Despite it, he remained calm.

“That is a heavy accusation, Kaldor Draigo. My son would never do something like this. Lorgar loved me as much as I loved him.”

“Then let me explain to you what had occurred after your slumber…”

The Past: Massacre

Inside Konrad’s frigate a low hum of the ship’s interior was interrupted by his First Captain. Konrad rested his head on his hand, deep in ponderance. It’s been days since his mother was buried in an unknown rock. No amount of questions or threats could make that old fool answer. All Konrad could do was immerse himself to continue the Great Crusade. Maybe if then, his mind could be at ease.

The hurried footsteps that was his 1st Captain caused Konrad to perk his head up. It was a rare sight to see him this disturbed, a true son of Nostramo, perturbed. It was a sight he only saw once, at the sight of the Emperor himself. Despite it, Konrad boredly gestured to his captain to speak.

“Father, there has been a massacre at Isstvan III.” Jago declared.

“There’s always a massacre, what makes this special?” Konrad questioned calmly.

“It has been perpetrated by the Warmaster, Angron, Mortarion and Eidolon. They have turned on their own.” Jago informed with worry in his voice. “The Warmaster has asked if we would join him in his cause.”

Konrad tapped his finger on his armrest. “Tell him we will join him. You know what needs to be done.”

Jago nodded dutifully. “Yes, father. I will have them ready.”

Konrad sat in his throne as he watched the ship make course for Isstvan VI. He hoped Lorgar would be with the traitors when it all began.

Konrad and his sons landed on Isstvan VI. He wasn’t surprised when Alpgharius and Angron had joined. Fulgrim always tried to win the affection of his mother constantly. For Mortarion, his disdain for his father outweighed his love for his mother. However, the arrival of Perturabo was something he found strage the most. The once embittered man loved his mother, more than anyone among his brothers no doubt. Or else he wouldn’t have built sculptures and paintings. Even go with one of her tea parties with other noble women in Terra. So why would he be here?

“You loved mother, I’m surprised you would be here.” Konrad looked toward his brother.

Perturabo gave a mere grunt. “I have my reason. What about you? You were attached to her as well.”

“I am the same as you brother.” Konrad answered kertly.

“For all the talk you did, in the end you did what I did.”

Konrad and Perturabo turned their gaze to Lorgar. His disdainful sneer went on to be ignored by his brothers. Horus, and the rest of his brothers arrived. It was planned to be an ambush. Horus the ever perfect son planned it without a flaw and with full confidence. What Konrad was surprised the most was Horus’s acceptance to allow him and his sons to join Lorgar. It wouldn’t matter if they were expecting his betrayal. As long as he could kill Lorgar, that’s all it mattered to him.

Soon, the battleships arrived and war would commence. Konrad ignored this however. All he wanted was to drag Lorgar to his ship and make him suffer.

The Future: The Emperor... a Corpse?

“Lord Konrad Curze did not survive the battle… while Lorgar survived and lives on as an abomination.” Kaldor finished.

5552 sat silent in her seat. Her shoulders shook as she tried her best to contain her composure. It was an attempt already in vain. Her son was dead, gone. Never to be seen again.

“How did he die?”

“A death befitting of a Primarch, my Empress.” Kaldor answered calmly.

“That isn’t what I asked.” 5552 rerplied sharply. “Did he die painlessly? Was his body recovered for proper burial at least? Did you know if he was ever happy before he died?”

“No.” Kaldor answered again.

“Was he the only son of mine that passed away?” 5552 asked, though there was an unsettling feeling climbing the back of her head.

“Lord Sangunius has perished in the hands of Horus Lupercal.” Kaldor answered. “The rest of the Primarchs are missing. Lord Roboute Guilliman is bound to a throne suffering a wound he has yet to awaken from.”

“I see… it was all for naught.” 5552 muttered pathetically. “Of course I couldn’t do anything in the end after all.”

“I apologize, my Empress. There is no time to mourn yet, the Imperium needs you. Perhaps if your return is announced, the Primarch may return. Humanity can still-”

“How do you know that will work?” 5552 asked with tear ridden eyes.

“The Emperor is no longer the glorious vessel of humanity. He is naught but a corpse on the Golden Throne suffered by traitor Primarch, Horus. You are the only authority that is left from the Great Crusade. The Imperium needs you, humanity needs you.”

“The Emperor… a corpse?”

Kaldor nodded grimly. “The Golden Throne is the only thing that is keeping him alive. He still guides humanity. You can as well.”

“Then I will do what I can.” 5552 said. “I will not let the death of my sons be in vain. Take me to Terra.”

Kaldor lowered his head. “At once, my Empress.”

Disappearance

To say she was abhorred with the current state of the Imperium was an understatement. The world once driven with science and reasoning was replaced with fear and paranoia. 5552 couldn’t help but find it ironic. The man tried so hard to denounce religion and became a religious figure. She was told by Kaldor the journey to Terra would be long and arduous, that she would be switching ships multiple times to avoid suspicion.

Out of her gold dress, she was given a hooded robe and clothes made to move around in. The Grey Knights followed her close, forming a wall wherever she went. At the docks a small escort ship landed, bearing a symbol that she wasn’t familiar with. The sergeant exchanged brief words with the sharply dressed man. Soon, she was introduced to an “Inquisitor”.

It was not long until she grew tired of traveling. Over and over she would be taken to different Inquisitorial ships between docking, clad in hooded robes like a criminal on the run. One thing she knew so far was that they were powerful people, and if they were like the Inquisition of old they were hunters not to be trifled with.

That was why this world was perfect. It was a well populated agri-world, she would get a job as a laborer easily and hide in the crowds from the initial search. With luck, a waiter living in a small confined apartment.

“I will be gone but for a moment my lady. Please enjoy the refreshments.”

5552 waited for the Inquisitor to leave the premises. The moment he did 5552 donned her robe then made her leave. To avoid being conspicuous only one Inquisitor was assigned to protect her as well as a ship small enough to learn the layout quickly. The pattern was well easy to read. All she had to do was wait for a world that fit her criteria in order to disappear again.

At the docks the crowd of people was the perfect place to merge in. 5552 wasn’t certain what kind of agri-world it would be, but she was close to Terra and knew she had to leave not before it was too late. 5552 exited the ship and soon became part of the wave of faceless crowds.

Eve

Rome, Persia, Greece, Mongol, all empires eventually wither against the test of time. The Imperium of Man was the massive empire the galaxy would ever see but an empire nonetheless, and soon it would wither like empires before. She’s seen it many times to know this and this would be no different.

All Empires rise and fall, she witnessed that countless times.

5552 wandered the rustic country that was Whealen. The wheat fields were wide as the oceans, and tamed nature was abundant, and it even had blue skies like the old days on Earth. The folks here were nice as well, save for the dock workers. It was a world that 5552 was optimistic about.

With credits 5552 stolen from the Inquisitor while he was asleep, she bought herself a ticket from the docks. Then at a store stand she bought rations and a bag. As the old stand owner packed her items he spoke.

“What’s a young girl like yourself doing here all alone in the docks?” The stand owner asked.

5552 played with her newly cut and curled hair. “Just a traveler seeking jobs. Do you happen to know any that’s hiring? Further from here the better.”

The stand owner rubbed his chin. “Any agri factories should be looking for laborers, they usually provide food and board too. Though I don’t think it’s a job for someone so… small of your stature.”

5552 hid her annoyance. Before she could speak she placed her hood up as the forces of Adeptus Arbites ran past her and shoved anyone that dared stood in their way. The store owner gazed at 5552 with suspicion. He leaned over the counter.

“You’re not some criminal are ya, miss? You don’t look like it but…”

“Does anyone want to be captured by them?” 5552 asked with a cheeky smile.

The store owner nodded agreeingly. “You have a point. Emperor help anyone that is captured. You should be careful too little lady.”

“I will. Thank you mister.”

5552 navigated through the bustling docks and she waited for her transportation to arrive. If there is one thing she knew about hunters like Adeptus Arbites, they only check the first vehicles leaving.

“Number 2555 is arriving. Repeat 2555 is arriving.”

5552 walked past the Adeptus Arbites. The more desperate they were the better chance she had of hiding. 5552 showed her ticket then took her seat in the giant bus. On the 5th floor of the bus she took her seat, she watched the dock gradually becoming smaller as she headed for her new life in this world.

After the bus had reached her destination 5552 traveled longer, eventually finding herself at a small town. Even for an agri-world this town wasn’t developed as other towns were. It was a quiet place with the minimum required technology. It reminded her when she was an amish for a short while. There were only a few credits she had left, with her rations gone she found a small diner.

“Welcome, it’s seldom we see a strange face.” The waitress poured a hot cup of recaf. “Do you have business here?”

“I’m looking for a job.” 5552 answered.

The young waitress cocked her eyebrow but she smiled after. “Huh, you’d have a better chance getting a job in the city. Why here?”

“I needed to get away, that’s all I’ll say.” 5552 said with sincere regret.

The waitress nodded. “Well… PA!”

5552 flinched at the sudden shout, even almost saying the name of the Lord in vain. For a girl just as skinny she shouted like a lion.

From the kitchen a gruff voice answered. “What?”

“Aren’t we looking for a new waitress?”

An old man stuck his head out of the opening of the kitchen. A lanky old man with easy going eyes. The man scratched his hair covered by his hairnet, barely hiding his graying hair.

“Who’s she?” The man asked, pointing at 5552 with a greasy spatula.

“A new face.” The waitress answered.

“Don’t see that much around here.” The man gruffed. “You looking for a job?”

5552 nodded. “I am. I can speak High Gothic, sew, do the dishes, cook, and just about anything else.”

“High Gothic, are you some noble girl on the run?” The father asked.

“I worked in a restaurant for nobles.” 5552 answered.

“An Upper World folk eh?” The man scratched his chin. “Well, the pay ain’t going to be well, but I can offer you a room and food. That alright with ya?”

“That’s perfectly fine with me.

“You’re hired then.”

“Wow Pa, you don’t usually hire that quickly.” The waitress commented.

The man shrugged. “A newcomer would do good for business seeing this town hasn’t changed for years. That and having two pretty faces would bring in more visitors.”

“Pa!” The waitress chided.

“For the Emperor's sake it’s just a joke.” The man chuck

“Welcome to Dainty Diner… speaking of I haven’t got your name yet.”

5552 slightly panicked. “My name… is Eve.”

A new Life

The room and food Eve was given was better than her Golden Chamber. For one, it wasn’t gold. Second, it was small and cozy inside unlike the cold spacious jail that was her previous room. Eve dressed into her waitress uniform then descended the stairs. Aela, the waitress she met, greeted her in the morning with a hearty breakfast and a hot recaf. Anderius, Aela’s father cooked breakfast in the kitchen.

“Slept well?” Anderius asked.

“I did, thank you.” Eve took a hold of the warm mug, smiling.

“Good, that room hasn’t seen its use for a while, I’m glad it doesn’t have to gather dust anymore.” Anderius said. “Today should be an easy day, but it’ll be busy over the weekends. So try to learn as fast as you can. Aela, bring her to the diner after you two are done eating.”

Few people would enter the diner, the largest groups being three or four people. The people here were married older men with an occasional group of mothers bringing their children in. A group of young men entered the diner. Eve walked over to the table with a small note and small quill-pen.

“I haven’t seen you around before. Name’s Dane Nullen. What’s your name miss?”

“Eve.”

“That’s a pretty name you got. Where are you from?” Dane asked.

“With all due respect, Mr.Nullen. That is my own business.” Eve replied.

“Alright, you have a valid point. I was just curious.” Dane replied.

After, Eve took their orders then attached to a string that held other orders. Eve yelped when something pinched her hips. Eve frowned at Aela.

“Aela You scared me!” Eve chided

Aela giggled. “I thought you would need help but you handled it like a pro. You don’t act like your age, Eve.”

“And how am I supposed to act?” Eve asked with a chuckle.

“All flustered and nervous. You acted like that was the eighteenth person to court you.”

“If you don’t tell them you’re not interested in the beginning they won’t stop. Trust me.” Eve advised.

“Wow… you really don’t sound like your age. Aren’t you about 18?”

“Something like that. You?”

“Twenty three.” Aela answered. “Which makes me your senior. You can call me sis if you want.”

“Aela! Stop fooling around and get back to work!” Anderius shouted from his kitchen.

“Alright Pa!” Aela patted her head in a sisterly manner. “Come on, Eve. Let’s clean the tables.”

The Search Begins

++Inquisition Headquarters, Holy Terra++ ++985.M41++

In the small section of the Inquisition Headquarters, the halls roared in hurried footsteps of every able body. The two Grandmasters sifted through their own respective materials. Grandmaster Jeremiah, of the Ordo Obsoletus and Grandmaster Fienn, of the Ordo Astra exchanged information frantically.

“It is clear that she has boarded this ship and we have the receipt of the ticket here. Are there any planets that we do not have any control over that the ships might go to?” Grandmaster Jeremiah asked.

“None, all are under our control.” Grandmaster Fienn answered. “The moment an arbiter sees our Empress we will receive words.”

Grandmaster Historo of Ordo Originatus wiped his cold sweat off his forehead. “To think the existence of the Empress is true. The records of the Ordo Originatus and Ordo Redactus will change dramatically if we find our Empress. This will shock the Imperium to its core to be sure, maybe even turn the tide of the holy war against the Chaos and the Xenos.”

“Focus Historo.” Grandmaster Jeremiah chided sharply. “Did you find any evidence of the Empress to be a psycher yet?”

“There are conjectures of her being a latent psycher. Certainly not powerful enough to disappear under the eyes of the Inquisition. However, she is old as humanity, psycher or not her powers are beyond any in the Imperium.”

“Where is Karamazov?” Grandmaster Jeremiah said the name with spite. “I despise that fool but we need him the most.”

The creak of the door opening echoed inside the room. As if on cue, the Lord Inquisitor entered the room with the famous Canoness, Sariah of the Order of the Sacred Rose.

“It’s about time you arrived, Karamazov.” Grandmaster Jeremiah glared at the Lord Inquisitor as if he saw a heretic. “This may be the Inquisition’s greatest test from the Emperor and you show up late!”

“Calm yourself Jeremiah. I’m only late because I have brought Canoness Sariah with me.” Karamazov gestured toward the Canoness next to him.

“Of course, no order but the Order of the Sacred Rose would be fitting in this holy mission to find our Holy Empress.” Grandmaster Historo commented.

“Then it is true, the Empress of the Imperium is awake? She lives? The Emperor protects!” Canoness Sariah praised the Emperor with burning zeal in her eyes. “The Order of the Sacred Rose will lend whatever power required. No planets will rest until we find our Holy Mother of Mankind.”

“Good, we have yet to locate where she is. Send the sisters to these planets. I’ve narrowed down the locations so it shouldn’t be a difficult task, and send words to the other Orders of the Adepta Sororitas.” Grandmaster Fienn said. “Karamazov, what did your hunters say?”

“I will inform you when I have information that is pertinent.”

Grandmaster Jeremiah scoffed. “Even now you keep your secrets? This is a test from our God-Emperor and you dare-”

“Useless information will only clutter our efforts. I will work with my Inquisitors as you will yours. If there is anything that is to be noticed. I will inform you.”

Karamazov and Canoness Sariah left the room, ignoring whatever protests from the two minor Grandmasters spewed out. The trial to find their lost Empress wasn’t the test for the Inquisition as a whole. No, It was a test from the God-Emperor of Mankind to the Ordo Hereticus and the Adepta Sororitas and it was their test only. A test and a gift to show not only the Inquisition but to show the Imperium of Man to prove they are the most faithful.

Mourning

++Whealen++ ++985.M41++

Eve and Aela sat on the grox cart. Both giggled as they exchanged flower crowns together. Aela loved Eve. Ever since she arrived at her humble diner she just felt comforted around her. Despite her young appearance she was more of a mother than a little sister she always wanted. Despite Eve’s smile there was something sad about it. It was a question that Aela didn’t ask, she liked to think they were friends, but she only knew for a few months. Aela doubted she would get her answers now.

Aela and Eve moved the fresh supplies of grains to the kitchen. Aela was always fascinated how someone so little could move so fast, it was as if she had done this thousands of times. Aela added this among other mysteries of Eve.

“Hey Eve?”

“Hm?” Eve replied with a smile. “What is it Aela?”

“Jeannatus, Tiffanius and I are going to the lake. Do you want to come with us?”

“Wasn’t Mr.Anderius angry with you last time you went there?”

Aela clicked her tongue. “Oh for the Emperor’s sake don’t be such a grox in the mud. Come on! Please?”

“Aela…” Eve deadpanned.

“Pleeease?”

Aela set the box then began to shake her gently. “Come on Eve… for your dear sis?”

“Fine.” Eve relented.

Eve couldn’t help but not suppress her smile as she saw Aela cheer. After work, Eve and Aela headed to the lake where others were. Aela and her friends played. Eve watched from the shore, resting in the cool shadow under the setting sun. As Eve spaced out in the peaceful day something grabbed her arms.

“Woah!” Eve yelped. “Let me go come on!”

Jeannatus, Tiffanius, and Aela grabbed Eve by her arms then tossed her to the lake then they joined in themselves. They giggled as Eve came out as a drenched mess. Eve smiled mischievously then splashed a handful toward Aela. Eventually their hungered stomachs demanded rest.

“Hey Eve, are there any boys you like?” Tiffanius asked.

“None. Why?” Eve asked.

“Well, it’s obvious Dane is interested in you.” Jeannatus added.

“No thanks.”

Aela ruffled Eve’s hair. “Come on, some have to take an interest in you. You need to find a man to settle with soon. Have kids, I know I want a son and a daughter.”

“Sons?” Eve said breathlessly.

“H-heey Eve? Eve!”

Eve wiped her overflowing tears, slowly breaking down into a sobbing wreck. Eve tried to speak with little success. The faces of her sons appeared on her mind. The very barriers that bottled her sorrows erupted to a flood. Eve realized how horrible a mother she was. She only mourned for a moment. Now, here she was. Enjoying her life while two of her sons were dead and the rest of her sons were either abominations or missing. Eve let out a tearful cry. Aela didn’t speak another word, but embraced her as long as she could. Eventually Eve simply fell asleep in Aela’s arms. That day, Aela never mentioned Eve marrying ever again.

The Travelling Sisterhood

++Dauntless Class Light Cruiser “Eternal Rose of Crusade”++ ++Adepta Sororitas++ ++Order of the Sacred Rose++ +Canoness Sariah++ ++989.M41++

It’s been four years since every order of the Adepta Sororitas has been searching for the Empress. Canoness Sariah stared at the regal painting of Lord Rogal Dorn and the Empress. Despite the painting being done by the Primarch himself, she doubted it fully captured the regality of the Empress.

“Mother.” Sariah rolled the words out of her mouth, it had such a pleasant ring to it. “Mother.”

“Canoness, the last location has been searched. Our Mother has not been seen there either.” Celestian Maris regretfully informed.

The Canoness kept her composure calm. “I see, this too is a test from our God-Emperor. If it wasn’t we wouldn’t be given the location so easily. Has Ordo Obsoletus or Ordo Orginatus found anything yet?”

“None, Canoness.”

The Canoness’s chamber was silent, save for the low hum of the ship’s interior and the muffled voice outside. Celestian followed the Canoness’ eyes to the painting. It was a wondrous sight, a relic of the long past. Maris had to admit silently, while the Empress looked regal in all her splendor, she looked surprisingly young. Not to mention, rather plain. No armor but a simple golden gown, she expected something more… divine. Nevertheless she couldn’t help but be immersed in that painting.

“We will find our Mother, Canoness. I swear on my life.” Celestian Maris swore.

“Naturally. We will find our Mother. If it means tearing the galaxy apart so be it. Our faith in the God-Emperor shall guide us.”

Escalation

On the Planet of Sorcerers

++Eye of Terror++ ++990.M41++

Magnus swore he saw her. The visage of his mother visiting him in the warp. His brothers were far too beyond to care of their mother. Not him. Magnus focused his powers once again, harnessing the power of the warp to find a speck of his mother’s psyche. The kind warm light that she always was in this twisted galaxy. For days he didn’t rest, even considered to beseeching Tzeentch for guidance.

Then a tug. A small spark in the abyss. Magnus grasped it soon as he felt it. He saw a vision of an agri-world resembling Terra in its ancient time. It was a land that she deserved. It pained Magnus in knowing that he had to take her away from her paradise, but he knew this was the only way to keep his mother safe.

His fate was sealed and it always was, even before mother arrived. No matter what she would’ve done nothing would have changed. Fate would not trap her like it did to him. The time had yet to come however. For he knew there would be a Great Rift. Soon, his time would come. In the midst of Chaos he would save his mother.

“My lord, you have called for me?”

“Have the sorcerers ready, once the Great Rift is opened we will make haste to the planet Whealen.”

“Whealen, my lord? That planet is close to Terra. Surely conquering would be difficult.”

“We are not here to conquer the planet. But to only retrieve one thing. Have them ready.”

His son left his library. Magnus ran his hand over the book ‘Frankenstein’, he forgot how many times he had read the book.

‘I’ll read it for you, this is a favorite of mine’ ‘Magnus, you know that I will always be proud of you.’ ‘Your brother will never understand you but I do.’ ‘I love you Magnus. Never change who you are for the sake of others. I will always love you no matter what you become.’

Magnus turned to the first page of the tattered old book, then began reading it once more. And once again, he remembered his mother sitting next to him, ecstatically explaining why it was such a masterpiece. Soon, he would hear his mother’s voice again, and the twisted sound of the warp would become silent, forever.

A Lead

+++Shrine World+++ +++Benediction+++ ++Order of the Bloody Rose++ +Sister Superior Cardinelle+ +994.M41+

Nine years have passed since the Inquisition and the Sisters of Battle searched the galaxy. An effort that shouldn’t even take more than a year has stretched so far. The locations they were given no answer. If Terra couldn’t give the information of the Empress, then Benediction was their next option.

Sister Superior Cardinelle read through the records and the pictures of the paintings. Even here there was little information of the Empress. Anything of her past was expunged. There were no leads. Was this truly a test? Cardinelle steeled her heart and faith, this was punishment.

Their acts against the children of the Imperium during their most shameful chapter. The rule of Goge Vandie and their compliance. She now knew that they would be searching for their Mother forever, never to be graced in her holy light.

“Sister Superior!” The new Novice Advance of her squad shouted. “I have news!”

“Do not shout in this holy place, Adna.” Cardinelle rebuked. “What is it?”

Adna swallowed hard, yet it wasn’t a face of fear, it was anticipation mixed with happiness.

“Canoness Sariah has spread the words.”

“Well spit it out!”

Adna flinched. “The Order of the Sacred Rose found a lead!”

Calm Before the Storm

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Pa’s Proper Platter++ +994.M41+

Eve tied her aprons around her waist again, she was getting tired of how the loose the aprons could be. The sun had begun to rise, but Eve was already wide awake. It was the weekends, meaning slow business day. Eve wiped the picture frame of her, Pa, and Aela in a family picture. She missed Anderius and his grunts. The kitchen felt lonelier since his death.

Time passed after Pa’s death. Aela went on to marry Dane and have children, meaning the Diner was handed over to Eve. To honor her and her father, she changed the name. Eve always was fond of alliterations.

“Aunt Evil!” A child called.

“It’s aunt Evie sweetie.” Aela corrected with a slight deadpan then smiled at Eve. “Long time no see stranger.”

Eve knelt to embrace her niece, Hannae then embraced Aela, she got taller the last time she saw her. She was going to comment how older Aela looked but didn’t want to suffer her hair ruffling.

“So how’s business?”

Eve shrugged. “Same old same old. You should’ve sent a vox-call if you were going to come visit.”

“And ruin the surprise?”

Eve lightly pinched Aela’s cheeks. “You and your surprises.”

Eve set up a cup of recaf and grox omelette for Hannae. The slow business allowed her to speak, and thanks to Dane working in the Administratum, politics was a constant topic. Aela leaned over and cupped her hand to whisper.

“So, Dane told me something big is going on in the Administratum.”

“Isn’t there always?” Eve questioned.

“This one might be special I heard. Only the Emperor knows I guess.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he does.”

Eve looked outside the window. The sun that was supposed to rise was muffled by the dark sky.

“Strange, I thought it was supposed to be sunny today.” Aela said.

“Yeah… I thought so too.”

Inquisitor and Magos

++[CLASSIFIED]++ +Inquisitor Greyfax+ +996.M41+

Heretics, that was the words that she thought in the debacle that was the “Ethereal Mother”. If she was there she would have personally blown the head of the Inquisitor that lost Mother. Merely thinking about it disgusted her to the core. What made it worse is that she couldn’t be out searching for the Mother of Humanity. No, she had her own responsibilities in Cadia.

Call it “guts feeling” or sixth sense. There was bitter taste in her mouth that something terrible would unfold, and the entire galaxy would suffer. Once Cadia is saved, she would make haste to Whealen.

“Inquisitor.” The raspy techno voice called out to her. “Your anger is palpable today.”

“Of course it is.” Greyfax replied with a hiss. “I am here despite our mother still being lost.”

“Ah. The Bride of the Omnissiah.” Cawl said. “She is not lost, but waiting.”

“I didn’t know the Adeptus Mechanicus believed in her.” Greyfax said questioningly.

The pylons on Cawl’s back fizzled, connecting together as the electricity sparked. The small gears that made up most of his body clicked. He looked up where the Eye of Terror rumbled.

“It is a small branch, as she is in the Imperium is it not?” Cawl answered with his question.

“No, that branch disappeared long ago. Only scholars or archivers know it now. Soon that will change.”

Greyfax’s cape fluttered as she returned. Soon, another battle will occur. Doubt was poison of the mind, for now she knew what needed to be done. Killing heretics in the name of the Emperor of Mankind and Mother of Humanity.

A Dream

++[UNKNOWN]++

Eve forgot how absurd a dream could be. Time passed like a dream to her already. Lately, her dreams were stranger, more vivid. The land was made of soft clouds, she didn’t walk either. Eve would simply float around, and for an immortal that never grew past her growth spurt pretending to be tall was a godsend.

Eve found the lonely angel again, blankly looking up in the white nothingness. The angel flinched then eased herself upon seeing Eve. As usual, no words reached through her and she couldn’t hear the muffled sounds that came from the angel as well. All she could do was caress her hair and hold her hand. Eve wondered why she kept having this dream. Eve did remember learning that dreams were a gateway to her subconscious.

Then what did that angel mean? She broke away her faith a long time ago. Yes, there was some lingering trust in God. Even if it was, it’s been millenias since she prayed. There was no point in an effort when it wouldn’t be answered. Eve felt the cold touch of the angel’s hand. Eve stroked her head again. She wondered if there was a way to conjure a comb in a dream.

999 M41

Sanguinalia

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Pa’s Proper Platter++ +998.M41+

Unlike most Imperial citizens, she spent Sanguinala earlier than most, a week earlier to be specific.

Like a responsible immortal, she knew how to spend a day that made her grief the most, with alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. To the point of counting the number of deaths she had from alcohol poisoning with two hands. That didn’t even add up the amount of suicide attempts in her drunken stupor. Bloody knives scattered across the floor, she probably needed to replace the toaster and rat poison again. She also needed to replace the ceiling lamp since she forgot that the ceiling fan couldn’t handle her weight in an attempt to hang herself.

“You are my sunshine…”

She cradled the bottle in her arms tightly. Her throat burned from the amount of alcohol she consumed. Her eyes stung. She sobbed as she remembered the smiles she shared with her sons. Her bright sons had a great future. She knew this was all her fault, she should’ve done more.

“You make me happy, when the skies are grey.”

Konrad, a misunderstood son. He chose to bear the burden of being the monster. All while earning the scorn of his brothers.

“You’ll never know dear…”

Perturabo, a son that she loved with all her might. An artisan that was forced to be knee deep in mud and filth. No manner of mud, grimes, dirt, and blood could dim his brightness. Her Great Artificer of Terra.

“How much I love you.”

Sangunius, a son that listened to her problems. He had no set expectation of her, he loved her for who she was. She remembered their small talks as she brushed his wings.

“Please don’t take my sunshines away…”

The clock finally reached twelve o’clock, marking the first day of 999.M41. As she drank her 25th bottle of whatever the liquor she procured the ground quaked thunderously. She looked idly outside, the sky was no longer dark blue but reddish purple. It was as if the warp itself was torn into a great rift.

The Rift Opens

++Imperial Palace++ ++Holy Terra++ ++Moments after the Great Rift++ +Yvraine+

Eldars and Mon’keigh, as far as she could remember they’ve been at war as long as she could remember. A foolish thing it was, they fought while the plague of Chaos swelled disgustingly. The Mon’keigh and her own people were too prideful to admit they needed help, they believed they were the chosen race to end Chaos. Yvraine knew this wasn’t true, anything that wasn’t chaos was the chosen race. If she was to be vilified it didn’t matter to her anymore. Yvraine exhaled her long drawn breath. The avenging son, Roboute Guilliman, was finally resurrected and it was no easy feat either.

None had yet to speak of her mother and Roboute had yet to ask. A full focus was necessary to revive what was left of the Imperium. The Great Rift opening most likely set the effort to hundred folds. Roboute commanded the Astartes while working alongside Lord Commander Militant of the Imperial Guard and Warmasters under the Lord Commander’s command. Whole Terra was a mess. Even more chaotic after Horus’s betrayal.

“-among other planets Whealen is also suffering a severe warp storm. Shouldn’t we protect that planet first?” Tallinus, The Master of the Astronomican said.

“That is a mere convenient planet for rations.” The Master of Administratum said calmly. “The planet with mineral and material resources takes priority.

“The shrine world will be targeted no doubt.” Ecclesiarch Decius XXIII insightfully added. “Those planets will also take priority.”

“The forces of the Inquisition are already sent to defend it with their lives.” The Inquisitorial Representative informed the Ecclesiarch.

“Where are the Adepta Sororitas in this impending doom?” The Lord Commander Militant questioned accusingly.

“They are… continuing their crusades, no doubt they will defend the planets.” The Inquisitorial Representative replied, he glanced at the Lord Commander of the Imperium.

“Planets that need no defending, command the Adepta Sororitas to defend a planet that matters!” The Lord Commander Militant shouted angrily.

“All planets under the Emperor’s light matter, you overstep your authority Lord Commander.” The Ecclesiarch corrected.

“Silence yourself Decius. You are only here as a formality. I suggest you shut your mouth and sit down.” The Lord Commander Militant shot back.

The entire High Lords of Terra gathered, a rare sight even for a Primarch. Behind the double doors shouts of logistics and administration echoed in the halls. The masters of their own respected areas spoke calmly, this wasn’t the first time a catastrophe struck with its vile hands and it wouldn’t be the last. Roboute raised his hand, the High Lords of Terra silenced immediately.

“Send a small fleet to the Whealen first, we will need it after this matter is settled. The primary agri worlds will take priority first, then the forge worlds.” Roboute commanded.

“At once my lord.” Hackett, the Lord High Admiral bowed then quickly walked out.

Despite being in the High Lords’ chamber she silently observed. For mon’keighs that lived for a few centuries they were calmer than she expected. A behavior attributed thanks to Roboute’s presence. She however knew what he truly worried about.

“Where are you going?”

“I am neither a part of this council nor am I a servant. I will combat chaos on my own.” Yvraine said. “Or do you plan to stop me?”

There was no resistance, not that anyone had the courage to do so. Yvrained exited the chamber, she would discover why Whealen had such a warp storm.

Evacuation

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Pa’s Proper Platter++ +999.M41+

The sky looked so pretty. Eve wondered why the town siren was ringing, she cupped her ears but did little to help. She also wondered why a truck full of PDF and townspeople was running to the truck. Eve stumbled out of her home to see the full scale evacuation. One of the soldiers ran up to her.

“What are you doing, miss?There's an evacuation order by the planet’s governor!” The soldier dragged Eve.

“A what?”

“Are you blind lady? Look up! Get what you need and get to the truck!”

The soldier pointed at the ripped sky that bled the essence of the warp. Eve rubbed her eyes, any drunkenness was snapped out of her mind. The warp, in its disturbingly red hue descended upon the small town. She saw the familiar townspeople shaking in fear. Mothers hugged their children and fathers kept vigilant eyes. For What good that would do, Eve didn’t know.

Eve held onto her large backpack. It was mostly filled with rations, credits, and small mementos. It was small compared to what other families brought. Families, Eve sat by herself thinking of Aela, Dane, and Hannae. The truck arrived at a small space dock, teeming with refugees with shouts of fear and cries of the children. Eve blended in the crowd until an arbiter grabbed her shoulder.

“Miss Eve?” The arbiter asked.

“That is me.” Eve answered.

“Please come with me.”

Eve wawa more or less escorted by an arbiter. In a spacious room of bureaucrats she saw Aela and her family.

“Eve!”

The two sisters exchanged a brief hug, Aela thanked the Emperor for her safety.

“What’s going on?” Eve asked.

“You and I are going on a refugee ship, you will be coming with us to Ultramar. To Macragge.” Aela explained.

“Members of the Administratum are given special privilege to be escorted there.” Dane added. “I'm happy that you’re safe sis. You haven’t changed a bit.”

Dane and Aela exchanged a quick hug as well. Eve looked up to Dane, he changed so much in a span of little time.

“And you want me to come with you?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course you’re coming with us.” Aela answered. “Why would you even ask that? And… Emperor, were you drinking?”

“A little.”

“Sir, Ma’am, miss.” The arbiter said. “The refugee ship is here for you.”

Aela grabbed Eve’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Through a special route Eve was led to an area with officers of the administratum. From below through a glass wall she saw the rest of the population.

“Where are they going?” Eve asked.

“Does it matter? Come on!” Aela tugged on Eve’s arm to enter the bridge.

Then, a flash of red lightning quaked the floor. The people shouted daemons and chaos space marines. Only one word was muttered out of her mouth.

“Magnus?”

A Reunion with Magnus the Red

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Pa’s Proper Platter++ +999.M41+

Eve couldn’t believe what she was looking at. Her son, Magnus. She was certain of it. He looked different. There were horns protruding out of his head with talons, his giant wings spread, casting shadows on the people. The chaos space marines shot down any that stood in their way. Any arbiter that resisted were either shot down or destroyed by sorcery.

“Where are you going!” Aela grabbed Eve’s hand. “We need to leave now!” Eve shoved Aela’s hand. “I’m sorry Aela.”

“Damn it Eve this isn’t the time for your mysterious background shenanigans!”

“Do you trust me?” Eve asked.

“Of course I do.” Aela answered.

“Then I’ll meet you at Macragge. I promise.”

Eve ran off before she could be called. As people flooded out of the dock, Eve ran past the people and the refugees. Despite donning a new colored armor and their display of sorcery. Eve shoved passed through the fleeing refugees.

“Magnus! Magnus!” Eve shouted among the refugees.

The sorcerers flying in saucers grabbed Eve by her arm. Eve was in the arm of a sorcerer, they landed on a tall conjured pedestal. Magnus shrunk to a size more familiar to Eve, his eye softened at the sight of his mother.

“Magnus, is that you?”

“Mother.”

“Magnus!”

Eve threw herself into Magnus’s arm. It didn’t matter if he was a daemon. It was her son. Magnus placed his large hands on her tiny shoulders.

“You’re alright!” Eve cheered. “You’re alright…”

Magnus knelt to return her tight embrace. It was as if everything was normal again. Back when she would wander the Imperial Palace, breaking up fights between the brothers. Back when he and his mother discussed literature. Back when he was happy.

But good things never last.

Saved

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Graniuis Space Docks++ +999.M41+

Magnus kneeled as he always did to see his mother on her level. While he had changed his mother didn’t. Not even a single wrinkle, perhaps her hair grew rather longer. He explained briefly on his side of what had happened ever since her slumber.

“All because of Horus…” Eve muttered. “You’ve suffered so much, haven’t you my son?”

“As long as you are with me mother, I will suffer no more. Let us return to Prospero.”

Magnus extended his hand. Eve however, couldn’t take it, she took a step backward much to Magnus’s surprise. She looked down to the floor

“I can’t.” Eve rejected softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Magnus asked, voice raising to frustration. “I have been waiting for you for this long and you won’t come with me?”

“Magnus, people suffer because of yours and your actions. Coming with you means I allow this. Stay with me, Magnus. You can still redeem yourself.” Eve tried to convince, she raised her hand to touch his cheeks.

Magnus turned his head. “Can’t you see that the Imperium is on the verge of collapsing? In the end there will only be chaos!”

“If Imperium collapses so will humanity. You and I, my son, we can strive for a new age of humanity. Just come with me.”

“Redemption is beyond my ability now. I am bound by chaos and my fate. I only care about you, mother. Chaos will consume all in the end, but you will be protected. Please, mother.”

Eve backed away again. “I’m sorry Magnus. I can’t let that happen.”

“If you will not come willingly, I have no choice.”

“Magnus? What are you-”

Magnus grabbed Eve by her throat. He harnessed the power of the warp. Chaos would swallow humanity, but a small speck of light that was his mother would be preserved. Whether she wanted or not.

Suddenly, a sword pierced through his protective field and to his arm. A black blur sped past him and his mother was gone. It was an eldar with a halo like hair ordinate, holding his mother. Magnus let out a frustrated roar once they disappeared.

Eve opened her eyes. She was in the arms of a tall eldar with a long top knot.

“From what I heard, I thought you’d be taller.”

She was no longer on Whealen, or on a material world. The eldar smiled at Eve then set her down.

“Who are you?”

“I am Yvraine. I am currently allied with the Imperium in aid to combat the forces of chaos. I am honored to meet the Perpetual.”

A title that I don’t care for much.

To Safety

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Graniuis Space Docks++ ++Yvraine++ +999.M41+

By the gods she didn’t know why this woman was so important. It was a mere woman with immortality, in a world of unkillable daemons and demi-gods walking amongst the galaxy she was an ant. However, she knew the woman may be the key. If a daemon primarch went so far as invading a planet for this woman, she was a tool against Chaos.

Yvraine focused her power to clash with Magnus’s power. She needed the mother somewhere safer, possibly safer than the Imperium. She only needed the right opportunity to interrupt the daemon’s prince’s attempt.

“FOR THE EMPEROR! FOR THE MOTHER! CHARGE!”

That’s when she heard the sound of bolters firing.

+++Agri World+++ +++Whealen+++ ++Canoness Sariah++ ++Order of the Sacred Rose++ +999.M41+

It was a disgusting sight. A sight that needed to be cleansed with holy fire. In the Emperor’s light the Battle Sisters descended upon the filthy chaos marines and demons. They were close to find their mother, If they had to burn the planet to cinders to find their Empress that was what they were going to do. They checked the diner known as “Pa’s Proper Platter”. It was abandoned but she knew there was a space dock.

At the space docks the sister fought against the forces of chaos. Each shell, each flame, each sword swing brought the planet closer to the Emperor’s light. When the sisters finally arrived at the docks they witnessed it. The benevolence of the Empress. Magnus, the damned daemon prince and a traitor kneeled at her presence of the mighty Empress. Mighty as she was, the records stated that she was no warrior, she merely commanded an overwhelming aura.

However, a daemon was a daemon. It was no longer human. They attacked the daemon prince just as a blue lighting interrupted the sorcery. This was an obvious sign of the God-Emperor’s intervention.

“FOR THE EMPEROR! FOR THE MOTHER! CHARGE!”

It was obvious what needed to be done. Canoness Sariah swore that their eyes met as they approached closer. She screamed as she watched the daemon prince casted another sorcery.

Before they could eliminate them fully, they all disappeared. The conflicting lights of red and blue lights were gone, and so was their Empress.

++Unknown++ ++999.M41++

Eve groggily opened her eyes. There was a sweet scent and something tickled her nose. She looked up, it was no daemon, human, or even an astartes. It was an eldar, and she wasn’t going to lie when she thought that hair ornament looked rather silly. When their eyes met the eldar set her to the floor.

Eve looked up to have to see the eldar face to face.

“You’re shorter than I imagined.” The eldar said.

“Who are you?”

“Well, I know you but you don’t know me. I am Yvraine, Empress.”

Eve flinched at the old title. From the looks of the eldar, she knew running away wasn’t an option.

“How do you know who I am?”

“I’m what you call a psycher. Your thoughts were too open.” Yvrained answered. “For a human with an appearance of a young adult, you are much older than I am.”

Eve shot an aggravated glare. “And why did you bring me here?”

“To convince you to be an Empress again.”

Why would an eldar care about the state of the Imperium?”

“The forces of chaos are a bigger threat than any in the galaxy. All races must unite if we are to survive. If the Emperor was the striking arm of humanity, you are the heart of humanity. In a state of decay we are in now, we need that the most.”

“I’m not the human you’re looking for.” Eve answered.

“Did you not attain the love and respect from the Primarchs?” Yvraine questioned.

“That didn’t stop them from betraying the Imperium. I was only chosen because I saw enough of mankind to know how a human would act.” Eve replied with venomous pessimism. “In the end, it did nothing. Either way, I will request that you find a better person to be an Empress. I won’t take that title ever again.”

“I see, then I have no choice.”

Yvraine walked to the giant double door. When she opened it, Eve gasped.

“Roboute?”

A Guiding Light

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++999.M41++

Amidst the awkward silence Yvraine exited the room, leaving the mother and son alone. Eve stepped away as Roboute walked closer. Eve looked down on the ground in shame, unsure of how to speak to her son that she hasn’t spoken for ten millennia. The tension in the room was palpable. For the first time, Eve saw Roboute hesitant in his actions.

There was another pause between the two. Just like Eve, he hadn’t aged a bit either. Logistics and maintaining an empire was Roboute’s skills. Being human was last on his list. Seeing how the Imperium was on the precipice of disaster. Roboute sat on the large couch, specially made for a Primarch like him. Eve sat next to Roboute without being asked.

“Mother… I need your help.” Roboute pleaded. “I can lead an empire, and all follow my words. The Imperium is no longer the empire that we know of. It is in a state of decay that I’m afraid that cannot be revived. The people are sick and downtrodden, they need a light that will guide them… that is a feat I cannot do.”

Roboute looked at his mother. So little yet so much has changed for her. Everytime his eyes would gaze upon his mother, guilt swelled within him. He regretted asking Konrad to tear Monarchia. All of this was his fault.

“I advised my father to send Konrad to Monarchia. If it weren’t for my misjudgment this wouldn’t have happened.” Roboute paused to find the right words. “Konrad and Sanguinius would be here, you wouldn’t be-”

Eve stood up on the couch, she embraced her son then cupped her hand to Roboute’s cheeks.

“That was none of your fault. The Emperor had the final choice and your brothers were slain because of my failure in teaching your brothers. None of it was your fault.” Eve copped her hands tighter. “Do you understand me Roboute Guilliman! None of it was your fault.”

“Then will you help me?”

Eve released a sigh. “How am I supposed to say no to my son?”

Holy Terra

Meeting the Imperium: The High Lords of Terra

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++999.M41++

During the 30th Millenium her existence was kept somewhat small. A procession here and there, but not too many of her were shown. Not this time.Only after a week, her coronation was spread across all the galaxy under the Imperium. The people thanked the Emperor for bringing their Mother back to the Imperium’s fold.

The Ecclesiarchy themselves have made an effort to incorporate God-Mother of Humanity.

She absolutely hated that idea. However, religion was a necessary evil that was required. Much to Eve and her son’s chagrin. However, this was for Roboute, and maybe the start of her ascension meant her sons would return, if that was even possible.

Five months were reserved just for the sake of meeting all the important figures of the Imperium. She dreaded the fact that she needed to play politics. She was an old woman with old values. She’d rather much stay out of the lights.

The first group she met was the High Lords of Terra, in which she accidentally used the words youngsters and young’uns. Even telling the Inquisitorial Representative that they needed to relax on the accusation of heresy. That did not go well. The Inquisition was one organization that she was worried about the most.

“So… who do we have left?”

“Well my Empress.” The strange british accented Custodes spoke. “Now we are on the list of the militant organizations of the Imperium.”

“And we’re starting with?”

“The Adeptus Astartes.”

Being inside the same room brought too many memories as much as she wanted to forget. It would be a lie if she said the room was fine the way it was.

“Fact #105: The Marines Malevolent are the worst.”

Meeting the Imperium: The Marines Malevolent

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++999.M41++

Eve knew the state of the Imperium was akin to the end of humanity, doomed being the least. She understood some methods were necessary, if a few thousand needed to die to save a hundred thousand, that had to be an acceptable loss. But this? This was a travesty, an ink mucking the honor of the Astartes.

“Do they want to be called douchebags? Who would name themselves Marines Malevolent? That’s like calling yourself Orphan Killer as your chapter name!”

Eve continued to read the report of this chapter. If the Inquisition had pardoned the actions of the Star Phantoms meant a tremendous hate for this chapter. Kitten, her new body guard/Captain-General, swore he heard some ancient terran vocabularies such as “fuck” and “massive assholish dickwads”. Whatever it meant, he knew she wasn't happy.

He never imagined to see the kind Mother of Humanity, angry. Her shoulders shook, not in tears or any of the sorts, but in sheer disappointment. Eve had to fight the urge to not crumple the parchments before her. It was insulting to think that their Primarch was presumed to be Perturabo. That report was ripped on the spot.

“Bring that son of a bitch in.”

“M-mum?” Kitten sputtered. “I mean, yes my Empress.”

The Chapter Master was missing for the Marine Malevolent. The First Captain entered instead. After the formality. Eve let out a sharp hiss of air.

“I am honoured to be in the presence that is you, my dear Empress.”

“Captain Vinyar, I have an order for you.”

“The Marines Malevolent are always ready to follow your orders.” Vineyard replied.

“Your chapter is to apologize to the Black Templars, all successors of The Salamanders, Lamenters, and every guard regiments you have used as bait. I am deeply disappointed by your Chapter’s action. Now leave my sight and return to me until you have done it.”

It is said that the level of shame for the Marine Malevolent was that of marines on a penitent crusade.

Meeting the Imperium: The Lamenters

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++999.M41++

Meeting the chapter masters was an emotional ride for Eve, and it made for awkward meetings. The chapter masters of The Salamander successors went wholesomely well. They chat like normal human beings, usually meeting in some kind of picnic.

Some were formal, speaking a line of encouragement or light chastisement. After the rage inducing study of the Marines Malevolent the rest didn’t seem so bad. Then came a chapter that made Eve weep for them. In both pity and pride. Perhaps a chapter that embodied humanity and their Primarchs.

“Kitten.”

“Yes mum?”

“Can you do that thing? You know the whole bright lights that make me look holy?”

“For what reason?”

“Just do it and don’t question it.”

Malakim Phoros knew this was a sign. The Imperium would be rescued from the depths of their doom to a new height. After tripping over a serf then bumping his newly polished helmet from a fallen piece of a statue Phoros finally reached the throne room of the Empress. When he entered, a warm light blinded him. There she was, Mother of Humanity in her full glory. Instinctively Phoros kneeled.

“Malakim Phoros, I have heard the deeds of your chapter.”

“I am honored beyond. My Empress.”

“I am your mother, Phoros. Such titles are only a formality.” Eve replied. “Did you bring your chapter like I asked?

“Yes, for what reason if I may ask?”

“Lunch.”

That day, the Lamenter’s luck slightly increased, earning the jealousy of many chapters. This caused chapters of the astartes with new zeal to prove themselves to earn the right to call their Empress “Mother.” The Lamenters witnessed what a true mother does, cook and give them lots of love.

Meeting the Imperium: The Adepta Sororitas

++Terra++ ++Shrine World++ ++Benediction++ ++000.M42++

The astartes went well. The next militant organizations were the famous Adepta Sororitas. This meeting didn’t take place in her throne room but an open field of a Shrine world at the behest of the Adepta Sororitas. Eve looked out the window, and it was easily to say the largest group of females she has ever seen in her life.

Eve stepped out of the ship to be greeted by choirs and dove with the Adepta Sororitas kneeling. The entire world was silent, save for the choirs. As Eve walked down the path made of golden carpets the Canoness Superiors of each order bowed.

“We are honored beyond belief to be in your presence, Holy Mother.” The Canoness said in unison.

Eve smiled with light discomfort. “Just mother is fine dear.”

“Dears? To be given such a title-”

“No no no, it’s a term of affection.”

The canonesses almost wept.

“A-are we worthy?”

“You’re my daughters, why wouldn’t you be, that goes for all of you.”

Eve gave a smile to the canonesses. While they were the kind of religious zealots that she used all of her might to avoid, she still couldn’t deny her daughters the maternal love. Eve was given the tour around the Shrine World. Eve did however, made a mental note to do something about the Repentia Order.

The glass sculptures, litanies and even a food was named after her. Eve amongst her daughters, for once it wasn’t a place filled with testosterone. Much as she loved her sons it was nice to be with the same sexes. Eve spoke with each sister, one of the sisters however fidgeted.

“Is something wrong?”

“Mother… is it alright if I asked something of you?”

Eve felt the glare of the Canoness behind her.

“Of course. What is it?” Eve asked.

“A hug.”

Eve extended her arms. “I see no issues with it.”

There was a singular large gasp from the sisters. Then daughters after daughters Eve had to hug every single one of them. An event that lasted for two days.

The Inquisitor and the Saint

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++000.M42++

Eve noticed a few things strange about Inquisitor Greyfax. Whenever she was around Celestine she acted strange. A little blush here and fidgeting of her Quakers hat. It was at nauseum, to the point that when she asked Greyfax she simply dismissed it. It began to gnaw at her. Nosing in someone’s business was rude, yes. When it regarded that of her daughter it didn’t.

The door of her chambers opened, Greyfax entered the room like a guilty child. Eve tapped on her bed for Greyfax to sit. The bed dipped as the weight of her power armor wasn’t accounted for.

“Is there something you required of me, Empress?”

“Greyfax, does Celestine bother you?”

She almost did a spit take. “N-no. Where did you get that notion, my Empress?”

“You always seem to fidget around her and you sometimes turn red.” Eve answered.

“I was slightly sick, that is all.”

“Everytime you’re around her?” Eve thought for a moment. “Do you talk to her every time you’re on your period?”

“No!” Greyfax cleared her throat. “No, my Empress. I do not speak to her when I am on my period.”

“Then what is it?”

“I… will this stay confidential between us?”

“As long as you’re not going to harm or commit suicide.” Eve answered.

Greyfax hesitated first, her lips parted “I believe I harbor feelings for her.”

Eve gasped then squealed in happiness. Then despaired, then went on to be happy again. It was difficult to believe that she was the Empress that made Chapter Masters kneel before her and stay silent when she rebuked them.

“Why not be honest with her?”

“I cannot.”

“Why?”

“She’s a living saint.”

“And? That doesn’t mean she’s untouchable.”

Eve took a hold of Greyfax’s hand then guided to where Celestine usually resided. Celestine descended from where she prayed the moment she heard her small footsteps. Greyfax panicked.

“My Empress what are you-”

“Greyfax, do you know how old I am?”

“It’ll be heretical of me to assume.”

“I’ve forgotten many things in my life, but my regrets are what I remember the most. ” Eve said wistfully. “I don’t want you to do what I’ve done.”

Celestine descended. “Mother, what brings you here?”

“I was supposed to go on a dinner date with Roboute, but it seems like he’s too busy. So I thought you two would like to take it instead.”

Eve handed over the ticket to Greyfax and tried to walk away fast. If not for the scrupulous eyes of the Inquisitor and the Living saint.

“Why does the reservation ticket say Celestine and Gre-”

“Gotta go now bye!”

A Private Meeting with Yvraine

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++000.M42++

Finding a tall Eldar was a feat that was more difficult than thought. Most likely, she preferred to be unseen. Even so Eve scoured the grounds of the Imperial Palace to find the eldar. She was going to find her no matter what. Eve peeked at the corner to see Guilliman and Yvraine speaking to one another, both in their serious expression. An argument? Lover’s quarrel? The talking stopped, they both stared at the corner where Eve hid.

“Mother?” Roboute called.

Eve peeked out of the corner then tried to be graceful in her movement, if not rather impatient. Her gold weaved dress shined under the lights. Even that didn’t help her excited look that she tried to hide.

“Son.” Eve greeted back. “Yvraine, may I speak to you in private?”

Yvraine and Roboute exchanged a glance of confusion. Even now Yvrained found it difficult to think that the tiny woman was most likely the oldest person in all of the Imperium.

“Is something the matter, mother?” Roboute asked.

“No, it’s just that it’s a girls thing.” Eve explained. “Yvraine, to my chambers?”

“As you wish…”

Eve led her to her chamber, it was dimly lit and on a red carpet there were multiple baby items. A wooden and gold trimmed cradle, a rattle, and clothes knitted by Eve herself.

“Surprise!” Eve shouted.

“Surprise?”

“Well… I know you and Roboute are close so I thought I’d get you some gifts.” Eve announced. “What do you think?”

“Empress, is that what you thought between Guilliman and I?”

“You’re not?” Eve asked, her smile faltered. “I thought you two were together.”

“That is… a matter I cannot answer yet.” Yvraine replied.

“Yvraine, do you realize how old I am?” Eve questioned.

“An estimated amount only.”

“When I began to discover my immortality I used to collect mementos of those I knew. To remember them by.” Eve carefully explained. “Don’t you want that too? As a woman?”

“Do you assume Guilliman will perish?”

“I pray that he won’t, but the future is uncertain. Having a child can be a rewarding experience.” Eve said.

“With all due respect, Empress. It only sounds like you want grandchildren.”

“That too.” Eve admitted sheepishly. “Trust me, I heard the first time doesn’t hurt. You’ll be fine.”

Yvraine laughed, louder than she should have. “You heard? My Empress, are you a vir-”

“ANYWAYS, yes Yvraine. I’m old, and before I perish with time I would like to see some grandchildren.” Eve eyed Yvraine. “Fertile hips, bountiful chest. You look so darling as well. My grandchildren will look so adorable! Will you at least consider it?”

“I will, if you will answer my question.”

“Hm?” Eve tilted her head.

“Are you?”

Eve groaned as she hung her head, as to not show her face. “Yes.”

Meeting with the God-Emperor

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++000.M42++

Tradition or protocol? Either way, this was a waste of time for her. The litanies chanted for hours by now and the smell of incense only made her head light. Out of thousands of gowns she hated wearing there was the oldest one, the first gown she has worn in her first meeting with the Emperor of Mankind. Eve solemnly stayed still as the Sisters of Silence dressed into her gown. Eve descended the stairs.

The Golden Throne. This was now her second time meeting the Emperor of Mankind. It was a pitiful sight. A man once being the most powerful being of humanity, now reduced to a pathetic corpse, clinging to a sword that he once wielded. The intrusive psychic power graced inside her head. The corpse spoke.

“Ironic, now I am in slumber and you are leading the Imperium. You are awake and now you lead the Imperium.” The Emperor said bitterly.

“Ironic, maybe. This is a tragedy.” Eve replied with the same level of bitterness.

“What made you return? You were content were you not?” The Emperor asked.

“Blinding myself with a different life is just a false happiness.” Eve replied. “I can’t neglect the Imperium now. My sons need me, and I will fulfill my duty.”

“Then it is your duty to salvage what I have lost, then eliminate the wayward weapons of mine.” The Emperor commanded.

“You speak of your sons-”

“No, not my sons.” The Emperor interrupted. “They’re no longer my sons, not anymore. It was my mistake to make a bond and that bond has crippled me and my Imperium.”

“I am not killing our sons.”

“You think you can bring them to redemption?” The Corpse Emperor question with venomous regret. “They are broken.”

“Then I will fix them. They are our sons.”

“It will cost your life. The Imperium clings on to the beating heart that is you. Without it, the Imperium will collapse.”

“We will see then.” Eve replied. “I will do what I can do to bring them into your light. I only hope that you will forgive them.”

In Search of Her Sons: Perturabo and Mortarion

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++000.M42++

Eve opened her personal mini-vault. Inside composed of two things. A rosary and a picture of her, Aela and Adreus. Eve held her rosary tightly, one her bed she propped her elbow on the bed then placed her hand together. It’s been months since she began to pray again, how couldn’t she? With the fate of the Imperium on Roboute’s back and him only, everything looked grim under the gold.

“In the name of God of the blessed Trinity, of the father of the holy son and of the holy spirit. Depart evil spirits so they may not corrupt my son. So that they rest and stay vigilant. God, give me the strength to-”

Three knocks interrupted her prayer. Eve quickly placed away her rosary into her vault. It was Roboute, with his ever so stoic expression as well. Eve cleared her throat then dusted herself off.

“Son?” Eve called out.

“Mother, this request you have made.” Roboute paused uncomfortably “I cannot allow this.”

“Roboute, you cannot bear the weight alone. You need your brothers.” Eve pleaded. “I know Perturabo, he wouldn’t have left without a reason.”

“He abandoned the Imperium when they needed him the most. The High Lords will never forgive him.”

Eve went to grab Roboute’s hand, caressing the metal coffin that sealed his hand. Eve didn’t want to believe her compassionate Fulgrim would become a daemon prince.

“You will leave that to me.” Eve reassured. “Roboute, I must see your brothers. I do not take joy in abusing my authority. I will if I have to.”

“The Imperium needs you.” Roboute said.

“I’m just a figurehead to them. You know what was the most common thing I have seen in my time? It was humanity working as one. You cannot bear this alone Roboute.” Eve warned sternly. “

“They’re lost in the Warp. Even you can’t bring them back.”

“I’ll have to try. Please Roboute, trust me.”

“Only under my conditions then.”

Two Birds with One Stone

++Segmentum Obscurus++ ++000.M42++

Eve promised that she would give a proper apology to Roboute. Then to Constantin, then to Kitten, then to the Sister of Silence. Having an honor guard accompany her would only bring in attention. She was no warrior, but she knew how to handle a laspistol. She learned enough with her honor guards.

Eve operated the small cargo ship, the most basic model that was the most common. Eve cycled through some of the channels, it was only a few hours before her warp jump. At the Mandeville point she leaned back in her chair. The jump has been calculated. All of her lofty titles were useless. She was a mother, nothing more nothing less.

Among her list the first son she planned to see was Perturabo. According to Roboute, Perturabo left the Imperium along with his sons. Fighting Chaos on his own terms without the assistance of the Imperium. He was last seen fighting Mortarion in the system Sementum Obscurus, with the rumor of defending the planet named Dysactis.

An old phrase resurfaced, “killing two birds with one stone.”

Only Game in Town

++Segmentum Obscurus++ ++000.M42++

It’s been a while for Eve to travel in warp again. For all that is feared that is the warp the ethereal hue was beautiful in her eyes. In here, somewhere, her sons were there. Lost, but no doubt never afraid. She would see her sons later, the best lead she had was on Perturabo, reported to be in the Segmentum Obscurus sector. Eve ran her hand through the controls, Warp travels were so much easier in the 23rd Millenium.

In her midst of travel thousands of small red glowing eyes flew past her ship, then began to form around her ship. Eve retrieved her laspistol, for what good that would she didn’t know. Having a weapon did ensure her anxiety. However, they didn’t do anything but follow her until she reached the system.

The planet Dysactus was on its full evacuation. Only ships that were on the docks were de-docking and not a single soul had exited the ship. All were entering it instead. The dock officer didn’t bother to check her, not when he was busy procuring his own ships. The level of chaos showed just how far the planet was from the Imperium’s control.

“Hey you there, trader!”

Eve looked toward a direction. By the way he was dressed she was a trader as well. Behind her was a squat and an Ogryn.

“Yes?”

“If you’re trying to sell goods you’re better off leaving. This planet is about to be a fething ground for a war.”

“By the Chaos Space Marines?”

The trader wheezed. “IF YOU KNOW IT WHY ARE YOU UNDOCKING?”

“I need to see someone.” Eve answered. “Do you know a safe space that I can land?”

“You’re joking.”

“Supply and demand. I’ll be the only seller for goods.”

“By the Emperor you’re not joking… this is the safest you’ll get. If the Chaos Space Marines doesn’t get here first that is.”

“If yer done trying to talk sense into that woman, we need to go.” The squat from behind said.

“You must be bravely stupid or stupidly brave. You got a name?”

“HEY MORON! WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!”

The human trader sighed. “Well anyways, if you survive, I’ll buy you a drink. Good luck trader.”

"The Great Artificer of Terra"

++Segmentum Obscurus++ ++Dysactus++ ++000.M42++

After five days, the activities of the docks ceased. The words were that the effects of the Great Rift cause the forces of the Imperium to be stretched thin. If the renegade Iron Warriors and the Chaos Marines were going to grind each other, the Imperium didn’t care. What she knew, the Iron Warriors were technically loyal. Except that they operated on their own terms, and like the Black Templar they refused to follow the Codex Astartes.

Eve waited inside the cockpit, watching a single raven perching on the small storefront. Its eyes were the same as the glowing red eyes in her warp jump. The distant firing of bolters snapped Eve out of her nap. Battle cries of the Iron Warriors echoed, from the cockpit several Space Marines entered the docks. By their color they weren’t the Death Guard. Despite it, Eve hid inside her cockpit. Heavy footsteps of the power armor neared to her ship.

The heavy footsteps echoed around the cockpit and just about everywhere else. Eve eavesdropped in the brief conversation. Indeed, the Death Guard was here to invade but an interception from another space marine warned the Iron Warriors as they were the closest. The ship’s supplies were meant to be fodder, a package of preserved grox meat and containers of water. Eve peeked out of the window of her cockpit. More Iron Warriors space marines gathered, they began to build fortification around it, no doubt in hopes to occupy it.

Eve wasn’t sure on how she would present herself. First of all, she cut her hair off and wore different clothes. Presentation was everything when it came to looking like an Empress. The Space marines could have been new recruits, and no one has seen her since her ascension. She wasn’t afraid of death, it was what came after it. The door to her cockpit suddenly opened. A space marine stood, aiming his bolter at her.

“Ehrn… hello.”

“Hands above your head and exit this ship.” The space marine commanded.

The cold and pragmatic voice confirmed it to be an Iron Warrior space marine. Eve sighed then exited the ship. Eve was led to a squad veteran sergeant.

“Nomal, why did you stay here, did you not see the evacuation announcement?”

“I needed to see someone.”

“And what right do you think you have to speak to one of us?”

“A moment is all I need. I can’t leave without seeing him. Do I look like someone that can harm the angels of death?”

“No, but you’ll be wasting our time.”

“The Great Artificer of Terra!”

The space marine paused. A human speaking an old and cherished title that only the Iron Warriors knew of.

“How do you know that name?”

“That was a title for your Primarch during the 30th millennium, given by his mother!”

“How do you know this, trader?”

“I can’t say it, let me see your First Captain.”

The First Captain

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ +++Dysactus+++ ++Iron Warriors++ +1st Company+ +000.M42+

Doubt was the weakness of the flesh. Hesitation was the weakness of the heart. In all his organic flesh his metallic counterpart couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. When he heard what his veteran sergeant said, he was about to shoot him for thinking uch absurd things. He might as well shoot himself with what he was seeing.

“Forrix, I’m happy to see you well.”

The Space Marine snapped to the sound of voice, bolter raised and finger on the trigger. The crease of his wrinkles that made a scowl froze, it softened then twisted into fear and grimace. Eve remained still, a bolter would kill her but it would just be another death to her. Forrix stepped close with his finger wrapped tighter to the trigger.

“What foul sorcery is this?” Forrix questioned.

“None, it’s your mother Forrix.” Eve answered.

“She is in eternal slumber, protected by the likes of you. Answer me or I will tear you apart.”

Eve took off her coat then folded it, revealing her undershirt, she opened her arms.

“Do it.”

“What?”

“It’s a common knowledge that the Empress was a perpetual.” Eve stated. “If you’re so unsure, kill me.”

Eve closed her eyes and waited. Forrix kept his sight on the human, his doubt swelled within him. Should the daemon release its true forms, he and his battle-brothers were ready.

“Answer this question then. What ancient cities was her museum built with?”

Eve paused. “Alexandria, Rome, and Constantinople?”

Forrix lowered his bolter, nearly collapsed if not for his knee saving him from falling face first. He looked up.

Mortarion's Thoughts

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ +++Dysactus+++ ++Death Guards++ +Mortarion+ +000.M42+

Perturabo, even before his betrayal he knew he was mother’s favorite. He was treated as a pity case. There was no ill will against his mother, he silently revelled when Konrad mangled Monarchia. He didn’t mourn but praised Konrad’s torture of Lorgar. He quietly regretted his death as well. The Imperium was a dying empire, all he was doing was bringing the inevitable.

As Mortarion descended upon the land, infestation and disease followed. His men were riddled with puss and filth. It was ironic, almost funny even. The resilience of toxicity and disease that was known in the Death Guard was now their object of worship. If only mother could see him now... he almost believed in her return.

His scout reported in, as expected there were trenches and artillery. A feeble attempt in holding them back. His sons charged recklessly drunken in their own power. It was not long after that the cracks of the artillery echoed in the distance. It wasn’t that Mortarion hated or was jealous of Perturabo. He was doing a favor for him. Maybe even hoping that he would be a follower of Nurgle.

The grounds shook by the artillery shell, it was mere quake for Mortarion. A mere obstruction of what was inevitable. He readied his power scythe then flew with his marines. If his mother was here, it would be like a family reunion.

Even a perpetual like her wouldn’t survive it. Rather, she wouldn’t die, there were fates worse than death.

The Black Plague

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ +++Dysactus+++ ++Iron Warriors///1st Company+ +Eve+ +000.M42+

A daemon prince of decay. It was a title that made Eve vomit. Mortarion was a quiet son, he rarely talked but showed his affection with action. All those reports were true, she just chose to believe it to be lies, a mistake. Eve sat in the underground of the office for the docks. The basement was filled with low hum of the lights, save for a few muffled cracks of the artillery fire and the shrill cries of the daemons. Eve waited inside for the clear so she could travel to see Perturabo.

Eve wracked what words she was going to say. A simple greeting wouldn’t suffice, not to mention she needed to know why he abandoned the Imperium. Then she realized she needed to convince the High Lords of Terra to allow his return as well. It was subtly gradual. In a couple days or so the bolter fire would grow close then become distant. Occasionally Forrix or his men would check on her, bringing rations and water and checking up on her.

Eve lied on the stiff seats as her bed. The sound of the battle still raged on above. Despite days passing she could never find the right words to speak to her sons. From thoughtful apologies to tearful gratitude to God, none of them fit on what to say to her son.

The fluorescent light flickered on and off, then the light completely died after a quake underground. A loud whirring sound echoed inside the basement as the back up lights activated. All the colors were swallowed by the red light, glowing ominously inside the pitch black hallway. There, a space marine descended, his insignia and colors were cloaked in the red lights eerily.

“Empress.”

Eve released that breath that she unknowingly held. It was Forrix, his armor was battered more than before and he carried the charred stench of corpses and metal. Despite, he remained the space marine’s well regarded stoicism. Eve wanted to ask if he was alright, but that would have been a wasted question.

“This dock is secure, there is a thunderhawk transporting supplies and reinforcement. It will take you to my father.”

If a thunderhawk was gigantic for a space marine it was humongous for someone like Eve. The space marines behind accompanied Eve. The sound of the battle was muffled, the occasional shake and tumble. The nervousness equaled that to when the plane she was on crashed the twin towers. There was another shake of the thunderhawk, much more violent than before.

There was weightlessness in the air, then suddenly the gravity shifted violently with an explosion inside the ship following immediately. She didn’t have to be a pilot to know what's going on. Eve closed her eyes, hoping that some metal shard won’t impale her again..

Opening her eyes once more, her body swayed by something. She looked up, one of the space marines held her in his arms. Behind her, she saw the forces of Plague Marines chasing after with Iron Warriors keeping them at bay. Eve was placed inside an abandoned building in the small corner of the city.

“If I do not come back after a day Empress, make for the north. You will find our Primarch.”

The Space Marine did not wait for an answer. Instead he charged back to the battle. Eve curled to her knees, waiting.

The abandoned ruins of what was once a city echoed with the lonely howls of the wind. What semblance of clothes she had were damaged. Her throat and stomach protested to be filled and quenched. Regardless, she kept on walking north. From the corners of her eyes she saw shuffling humanoid abominations. Eve pretended to not see them as they merely followed her, their slurred words were barely comprehensible.

The shuffling was closer and more of the pox walkers and nurgling followed Eve as more of them appeared. The last of her energy was spent sprinting to whatever building that was standing and hiding in the most deep corner of the building. She burst open the nearest room then hid herself inside the closet. Eve cupped her own mouth as she heard the slow footsteps of the rotting abominations. One of the abominations entered, coughing in between breaths and wheezing like a dying dog.

Eve has seen the atrocity of humanity. Even a few daemons. None however disgusted her more than the walking plague bringers. If the bible asked for the definition of Pestilence, she would’ve shown these creations. Eve prayed with all her might, and as she expected it never worked. The zombie opened the closet and pulled Eve out. Eve rolled, barely dodging the bayonet. Eve ran out of the room and more poxwalkers chased her.

In a split hallway, Eve opened the window, it was five stories tall. Eve closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, then jumped out.

The wet crunch of her leg snapping squeezed out a howling cry from Eve. Tears ran from her face as she did her best to cope with the pain. She wasn’t a warrior, pain was pain to her. She wiped her tears and waited for her legs to heal. Once she did she began to drag her body. Hiding rubble to rubble, Eve sneaked her way north. She had to thank whatever powers above that she didn’t get caught between the time that she died of hunger and thirst.

As she delved deeper in the northern territory the poxwalkers disappeared. Instead Plague Marines and Plaguebearers scoured the rubbles. The stench worsened and the incessant buzzing of the flies intensified. Eve contained her coughs, until the last one. She coughed into her hand, now covered in blisters and ooze painted with dark red blood. She traced her hand around her face with just as much sickening bumps.

It was the Black Plague but intensified. Each step became more difficult, she leaned on to the wall, her vision became darker and darker as her face swelled. The fluid from the melting lungs overtook her breath, it popped like a balloon soon. Vomit and blood flooded out of her mouth as she collapsed to the floor.

"Our Father, Who Art in Heaven..."

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ +++Dysactus+++ ++Death Guard///Chaos Undivided+ +Typhus+ +000.M42+

It was amusing. The rumor of her return wasn’t a lie. He wanted to see how the Word Bearers would react. Typhus had to admit, the woman was resilient. The gift of Nurgle dissipated as her body regenerated her flesh. For a fragile human corrupting her was a task that he didn’t expect to be this difficult. He remembered a quaint conversation. “Black Death”, that was the name he remembered of a disease she remembered catching over and over again. That couldn’t possibly be the reason.

A soft moan caught his attention. The chained up “mother” stirred up. As she opened her eyes he sensed her fear swell along with her cognition returning. The cloth covered her mouth. Whatever words she would speak would go on to be ignored. Despite the gag she screamed and squirmed. The chains rattled and the constant muffled cries tested his patience.

Typhus reached for his power scythe then swung, only to meet another scythe. The slow and audible breathing filled the silence of the room. Mortarion only gave a careless glance to his mother.

“Enough, Typhus. “Mortarion stated. “Your turn is over.”

“You dare stop the Plague Father’s work?” Typhus questioned angrily. “I have embraced Nurgle’s gift more than you, Mortarion. You cannot command me like you did in the past.”

“Do you test me?”

The blade of the two scythes grinded, dull sparks spewed. Typhus growled but retracted his scyther back. Mortarion gently removed the gag.

“Mother…”

Mortarion released the shackles as Typhus exited the room. Eve didn’t want to believe it, yet here he was. The mask was glued to his face, covered by tattered cloth. Even kneeling he was still too tall for his mother. Eve stretched her hand to touch his face, only to be denied by Mortarion turning his head away. A tear rolled down from the corner of Eve’s eyes. Eve forcefully took her hand to turn his face in her direction.

“Why do you look away from me?’

Mortarion answered in silence. Eve shouted again and again only to be replied with the sound of the respirators.

“I’ve failed you.”

“You’ve made a mistake.” Eve corrected. “Mortarion, come back with me. You will be welcomed back.”

“By you. I am branded a daemon prince. It cannot return the way it was in the past, mother.” Mortartion replied bitterly. “I’m sorry. I cannot turn back now.”

His hand went around his mother’s head, then to her neck. The lightest pressure already began to choke Eve. The armor clad hand squeezed her neck tighter. He continued despite the tears flowing through her bloodshot eyes.

“Morta-”

An audible snap echoed and Eve’s body stiffened for only a moment before falling like a stringless marionette. Mortarion examined her body, as expected there was a wooden rosary with her. Only few of her sons knew of her hesitant cling to her faith.

‘Our Father, who art thou in Heaven, hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this our daily bread; and forgive us our tresspasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Give my sons the strength to continue, give my dear son, Mortarion endurance to fight another day.’

Mortarion bitterly recited the phrase inside his head. It was Perturabo, Angron, Konrad, Vulkan and himself that prayed with her. It was odd, millenia later and he remembered every word. It wouldn’t be long until she would regain consciousness, his brother regenerated much faster from a deadlier wound. Mortarion walked into the open battlefield where he knew Perturabo was there as well. In the protection of his Plague Marines and daemons, he lifted the rosary high in the air.

Reinforcements

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ +++Dysactus+++ ++Iron Warriors++ +Perturabo+ +000.M42+

Like all Primarchs, save for Angron perhaps, emotion was a tertiary thing. However, among the emotion rage was the easiest to use. None of his brothers were immune to it. Not Jaghatai and not even Lion’El was immune to it. To Perturabo, rage was a measured tool with hate as an amplifier. In this moment however, the fury within him flared uncontrollably. Sending his sons to a blind charge was a vain strategy.

Mortarion awaited in the empty field holding his mother’s rosary like a trophy. Perturabo picked up his hammer. He didn’t expect his brother to use such tactics. He loved his mother. However, the mission always took priority. He taught his men that and he needed to be true to his teachings. The artillery cannons howled shell after shell. His sons laid heavy fire upon Mortarion and the charging demons.

The mines placed took out less than he anticipated. The abomination that was once human and daemons closed in. Once the heavy artillery pummeled the ground no daemon or plague marines survived. Anything that wasn’t shredded by the autocannons were ripped asunder by the chainswords. Perturabo knew the method of the Daemons Prince. Another wave was soon to come.

“Father, we have received contact from a detached squad. They have succeeded.” Forrix reported in.

“Continue the artillery. This was naught but a first wave to test us.”

“If this will go on, we will need reinforcements. Will they arrive on time?”

“They always do. If they received the message they will be here.”

A Duel

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ +++Dysactus+++ ++Night Lords++ +000.M42+

There was no deniability that the Night Lords were renegade marines. If they were to return to the fold a penitent crusade was certain. They were traitors, it was only their father, the Primarch, that reigned their sadistic savagery. However, there was a primary target that they slaughter not in glee but wrath. The Word Bearers, the unforgivable marines that made their Night Mother in eternal slumber.

Night Mother, that’s what they called her. In the early days of the Great Crusade she did not show disgust. The Night Mother only nodded solemnly, knowing their necessary evil. Why else was their father loved by his mother? Why did she accept their bloody hands? The Night Mother was not a warrior, an executioner, or even a tactician. She had wisdom to know their purpose, because they knew adjudicators like them existed since ancient times. As their father was embraced by Night Mother, so were they. Until her quench for revenge would be satisfied, no traitors would live.

“For you, Night Mother. For you, Father. We draw blood in your name and your resurrection. We are sons of the Night Mother, we are the Night Lords”

The space marines of the Night Lords recited their old prayer. The drop pod glowed in green. There was more zeal in the Night Lords than the usual. The door to the drop pods opened, the space marines ripped into the closest daemon they could lay their hands on. This was their reunion with their Night Mother. Everything needed to be perfect.

The roots of Nurgle died in her body. As much as it was painful, Eve was proud to say that she dealt with plagues and disease more times than she wanted to count. That didn’t mean she was healthy at the moment. All of her senses were numb. Her visions were hazy and even the largest sound by now were muffled. Even in her obstructed sight she was certain that she was a tiny creature in a hooded robe staring at her. They looked so familiar too. Not from the movie but they were there.

“The Rock. Your son awaits you.”

It didn’t say but it was a psychic message. Eve wanted to question what the tiny xenos said. Her throat however was still swollen with the rot. Eve blinked again, now seeing two different space marines. Crashing through the flimsy wooden gate. The space marines questioned her, or that’s what it felt like. Every word were filtered out to be mumbles.

The space marines carried Eve as they fired. Even the close sound of the bolter fire barely registered. As she was being carried away she saw Perturabo and Mortarion fighting in a bitter battle. Eve struggled to escape their grip, she tried to speak again but only raspy whispers came out. She was escorted inside a bunker then laid on the ground. Her chest heaved slowly, before the marines left she grabbed their finger.

Her lips moved, wording her son’s name. The helmet hid their reaction, the space marine gently set aside her hand then nodded. Darkness swallowed her vision.

Eve opened her eyes, she saw the gray cracked ceiling. Without hesitation she exited the bunker, she peeked outside to see a war raging on. Among the giants two titans clashed. Eve scurried through the distracted space marines. Being small had its perks as she went unnoticed, even to the damons.

Mortarion’s brute strength and speed clashed against Perturabo’s heavy swing of his hammer. Sparks flew as they crashed. Mortarion was already a formidable opponent in raw strength and power. He was skilled but his true advantage was endurance, everything of him was doubled due to the gift of the Plague Father. Even the Autocannons dent Mortarion’s armor.

Perturabo was cornered to a defense with Mortarion’s attack increasing its power and frequency. The final blow sent Perturabo to fall. The artillery barrage couldn’t stop the final swing of Mortarion’s scythe. Mortarion swung his scythe, but instead of ending Perturabo his mother took the blow. It was as if the battlefield became silent after that moment.

Eve held her eye that was cut, albeit a shallow one. The stinging only tickled her eye, then it intensified. Puss and ooze grew out of her eyes as she screamed painfully, she fell to the floor. Perturabo took the moment of distraction to escape with his mother in his arms. It took all of his will not to kill him there and now. The Night Lords’s ambush from the rear shifted to a pincer movement as they slowly retreated. This planet was lost, no amount of artillery shells and bombing could fix that.

As a final bitter “farewell” to the overwhelming daemon forces, thermal shells incinerated any daemons and plague marines alike. Perturabo and his sons made for a quick retreat after with his apothecary marine following him close behind. It pained him to listen to his mother’s painful scream and worse when she thrashed in her arms. Perturabo never had a disdain for his brother, even after his betrayal. Now, Mortarion had earned that fate.

The Empress Scarred

Perturabo and Roboute

+++Segmentum Obscurus+++ ++Iron Warriors++ ++Cruiser Class, Rebuke++ +Perturabo+ +000.M42+

Perturabo despised retreating. It was a sign of weakness and incompetence. For this moment however, he was perfectly content with his failure. The apothecary reported with a swift revival. He wanted to stay inside the infirmary longer, but pressing matters existed. Perturabo was a Primarch of many skills, born with innate knowledge. Communication varied on who he spoke to. He never imagined he’d use the communication frequency to speak to his brother.

“Roboute.” Pertruabo said.

“Perturabo.” Roboute replied. “I assume mother is with you?”

Roboute spoke as if he expected this conversation.

“She is.”

“I’ll be waiting. You already have permission to dock.”

The call ended there. The low hum of the ship filled the void of silence. The permission was already there. What worried him was what he was going to say. “Greetings brother it’s been a long time”? Perturabo lost himself in his thoughts. Then he didn’t know how to explain his mother’s permanent condition. Out of warp jump they arrived at Holy Terra. The obnoxious gold already irritated him as he docked in. As his sons exited the ship the unmistakable figure approached him.

Perturabo faced Robute.

If Rogal was here it would’ve been a nightmarish family reunion.

Half-Blind

+++Terra+++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++Golden Chamber++ +Perturabo+ +000.M42+

Eve opened her eyes, half of her vision was dark. Even with half of her vision the gleaming gold was unmistakable. She already knew where she was and what was going to happen. Eve got up from her bed, she remembered what had happened. Losing half of her sight wasn’t the first time. Suddenly, the shattering of her glass caught her attention. It was a serf, shaking as their eyes met. Eve sighed, it wasn’t the first time it happened. She tried to speak but no words came out, only a weak incomprehensible whisper. It wasn’t as if forming words were impossible, but much more difficult.

Eve went out of her bed to walk through the halls. She would have if it weren’t for the two guardian spears of the two custodians crossing. Eve stopped to look up to see the custodians. She opened her mouth again to speak, raspy exhales leaked out of her mouth. She tried again but exhaled from her chest.

“Why?” She asked weakly.

“For your safety, Empress.” The Custodian answered.

Not wanting to cause difficulty with the Custodians she returned to her bed. She merely waited. Eve Watched the balcony of Terra, the gilded city of lies. The door opened again, this time with Yvraine and Celestine. While Yvraine remained her composure Celestine flew over to Eve. It pained Eve to see Celestine with such conflicted frown.

“My Empress, you shouldn’t be up!” Celestine chastised lightly. “Your eye. Can you see well?”

Eve merely smiled at her worry, she extended her hand to caress her cheek instead. This time she didn’t parted her lips but merely nodded at the question. Celestine’s pained frown now had a mix of confusion in.

“Empress?”

“The curse of Nurgle affected her to be a mute and lost half her sight, a miracle is what it is.” Yvraine answered. “Is it not?”

Eve glared at Yvraine shortly, then took Celestine’s hand and pointed at the door.

“It seems this discussion is to be a private one.” Yvraine translated. “Out you go then.”

“You dare command me, eldar?” Celestine growled.

Eve pulled Celestine’s hand with an apologizing gaze. Celestine solemnly nodded then left the room. Yvrained sat on Eve’s bed, leg crossed and fanning herself lightly with impeccable genteel.

“You are a fool.” Yvraine said psychically. “And a bigger fool to think you can go out once more to find your sons. I’ve seen your recent memories. It is Ynnead’s blessing that you weren’t dragged to the Warp!”

At the balcony Eve watched the city below, beneath the golden light.

“I’ve lived in the shadows for too long, Yvraine. Malcador had a point, I cowered in the shadows of history. For all we know I’m the last living Perpetual in this galaxy. It’ll be my responsibility to bring my sons back.” Eve explained resolvedly. “Maybe this is my purpose from God.”

“They’re corrupted, daemons, they’re-”

“Do not speak of them as if you know them.” Eve interrupted quickly. “They can still come back. I know it.”

“I don’t need to know your sons to know that they’re far too corrupted. This is a quest you are doomed to fail.”

Eve glared back. “Then I will fail knowing I did what I could.”

Eve walked past Yvraine then opened the door. Instead of Celestine greeting her it was Perturabo.

Mute

+++Terra+++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++Golden Chamber++ +Perturabo+ +000.M42+

Perturabo wasn’t able to get a single word out before his mother grabbed his hand. Guilt swelled inside him. He’d rather preferred her wrath, how could she smile when she was basically a mute and half blind? Eve moved her hands in a series of motions. Perturabo understood vaguely, clipping together the signals of space marines and his innate knowledge of it.

Eve’s grasp of Perturabo’s hand slipped away as he walked away. The custodians crossed their spears. It didn’t take wild intellect to know why Perturabo fled away from her. It was her own foolish ideal and hope that led to her current condition. Yvraine was no longer inside her desolate cage. Eve crawled back to her bed, clinging on to her hope that Perturabo would see reason. She knew that she forgave him. What mother wouldn’t? It was their duty to forgive the mistake of her children.

Eve climbed onto her bed with no fatigue or drowsiness to comfort her. Few minutes into closing her eyes she heard a muffle. The small creature looked at her at the side of her bed. The hooded figure that she vaguely remembers seeing in the past. It was talking in its gibberish words that made all the perfect sense. It held a sword with a distinct design of the Dark Angels. The etching of it resembled Caliban.

She never met personally with Lion’E Johnson, Corvus Corax, Alpharius and Omegon. Due to their clandestine nature. She tried with the result of being completely evaded or speaking with their 1st Captains or so they claimed. Eve sat on the edges of the bed. The creature showed the sword then repeated the same words again.

“The Rock, The Tower of Angels, your son Lion’El Johnson awaits you.”

The creature disappeared.

The Unforgiven

+++Terra+++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++Empress’s Throne Room++ +Azrael+ +000.M42+

The Empress’s Throne Room, a chamber that was said that the Dark Angels’ Primarch once walked in this very room. Being summoned to Terra by the Empress of Humanity herself was something he never expected. He would’ve ignored it like the last time she requested his visit. The manner of request however, was more dire and with much heavier authority. From the Lord Commander of the Imperium himself.

Azrael and Belial walked the golden halls of the Imperial Palace. The golden halls were truly a sight to behold with years of history behind. The Custodians of the palace were even taller than them with much more aura than any other space marines. No, comparing them to Space Marines would be an insult to them.

“What a waste of time this is.” Azrael muttered.

“Hold your tongue, Azrael. You are inside the most holy place in Throne World.” Belial warned.

“And why have you come along? They requested me, or have you come to bask in her holiness as well?”

Belial replied with heavy silence. If the Empress was a psycher and a warrior like some believed there was only one reason why Azrael was summoned. Her journey to reunite with her sons spread quickly with convoluted information. Some retold an epic battle and some to be a mere accident.

The holy golden gate stood tall, menacing even without the two custodians guarding it. As the door opened a holy light poured through the opening gap of the door.

The throne room was immaculate, and etched with the finest skill humanity could offer. The Empress stood up from her small throne. This was a body of a woman, not a warrior. Yet, they still bowed from a pressure they didn’t understand. They looked up to see her gesturing them to rise.

They observed her face, one eye was a hazy grey. It was now proven that she did suffer a fatal injury. Looking up close she was more human, beautiful no doubt. Azrael and Belial froze when she began to scribble on a parchment.

“My sons, forgive me for this manner of communication. A pressing matter forced my hand to use my authority. I behoove you, to let me see Lion’El.” “Our Primarch is missing. None of us have found him like the others.” Azrael said.

Eve frowned at the lie, she scribbled down faster and louder. “Do not lie to me.”

“We would never-”

“I know he is at The Rock!” Eve shouted, it followed with her hunching over coughing violently.

The Sisters of Silence descended from the throne and tried to offer her hand. Eve shrugged the hands off. She wrote on her parchment again.

“Let me see him, please.”

“Did the watcher speak to you, my Empress?” Azreal asked.

Eve nodded sincerely. Azreal hesitates before coming to a conclusion.

“We will bring you to The Rock, my Empress.”

+++The Rock+++ ++Lion’El Johnsonl++ +000.M42+

He had failed her. He had failed Konrad.

He failed.

Lion never liked any of his brothers, as long as they maintained their Legion and their responsibility it didn’t matter to him. Yet, he was a hypocrite. Just what did he succeed in? None. Looking back on the past, he was arrogant. Avoiding his brothers to find the threat only to discover that the traitor was right beneath him. He didn’t hunt them like Corvus did, he didn’t risk his life to kill Lorgar. He was worse than the coward Perturabo.

He failed to see another traitor before him. Luther, the traitor that he never expected. The reason for his slumber. If the eternal darkness was a dream, the vision in front of him was a nightmare. It was his mother, standing before him. The tiny woman that started it all. Lion shut his eyes and opened it again. It was his first time seeing her this close.

“Mother…”

LionEl's eyes widened, one of her eyes were grey, and only a gasped whisper left her lips. He kneel to see his mother close for the first time in his life. As always, the woman wasn’t angry for his failure, not even disappointed like she was to Lorgar. There was only joy in her smile.

“Why do you smile? I have failed to protect you, as all my brothers did. Why-”

His mother grabbed his hand, tugging it slightly to the exit of the hallway he once walked upon, where he was poisoned by Luther’s men, where he was betrayed by his own son. He followed his mother to the end of the hallway, not knowing what awaited him in the end.

+++The Rock+++ ++Azrael++ +000.M42+

From the blackened hallways two figures emerged, first was the Empress and the second… Lion’El Johnson. Azrael knelt in the presence of his father, finally awakened. It was mesmerizing, almost shocking even. The Empress gestured toward Azrael, his and his primarch’s gaze met.

“Father…” Azrael muttered, he regained his composure. “My Primarch. I am Azrael, chapter master of your Dark Angels.”

“Chapter Master…” Lion’El’s gaze focused on Azrael. “I do not remember implementing a rank of that name.”

“That is due to-”

Before Azrael could explain the Empress tugged on Lion’El’s hand. Like a tamed lion his attention changed to his mother. Azrael mentally thanked the Empress. While bringing him to the current era was important, he wasn’t certain on his Primarch’s view of Codex Astartes. For now, he and his brother basked in the lights of his Primarch and the Empress. In the chambers of the Inner Circle, Lion’El and his mother sat across. The quagmire was palpable in the room. The silent lion and the loving mother, it was an odd pairing to witness.

Azrael knew he didn’t need to be a psycher to know of his Primarch’s response to the Codex Astartes. The time to reconsolidate would take long and arduous effort.

Lion’El tightened his fist, holding his anger to enable his composure to prevail. This “Codex Astartes” , while understandable in the past, was no longer needed. It would take time and effort to consolidate his legion once more. It was almost sorcerous, the anger being silently endured by his Primarch ceased.

The Empress’s lips worded out and Lion’El nodded, he simply sat still as the Empress caressed his hand, looking up with a content smile.

“Let’s go home.” The Empress worded.

It was weak, pitiful, and even painful to listen to, it reflected the state of the Imperium too well. The reunion of the Lion and the Mother, it would be the beginning of a new chapter for the Dark Angels.

All Hail the God-Empress of Mankind!

++Terra++ ++Imperial Palace++ ++000.M42++

Today was the day. Eve stepped out of her room early. Accompanied by her guards to the dressing room, the serfs helped Eve to don her coronation dress. All manners of ornations and aquila symbol made it difficult to maintain her balance. Even so, she tried her best to walk as majestically as possible. Today was the day after all.

The serfs behind lifted the excess of the dress while the custodians walked beside her. Eve could already hear the sounds of the cheers and revelry. Roboute waited at the entrance of the balcony. Eve smiled at his son.

“Are you ready, mother?”

“I am.” Eve extended her hand. “Shall we?”

Roboute took his mother’s hand. At the balcony it teemed with Imperial citizens thunderously cheering for their Empress and Lord Commander of Imperium. In the grim future that is now, the people’s faces shined. Maybe, just maybe, the future wouldn’t be so dark. Ordeals after ordeals would be ahead of the Imperium. It would take a collective effort to see humanity rise.

The Imperium of Man wasn’t an empire, it was humanity manifested. Be it thousands of years the Imperium of Man would stand in the test of time. As long as the heart of humanity lived, so would the Imperium of Man. All Empires rise and fall, she witnessed that countless times. However, humanity would never fall.

End (There are other side stories and additions to the main story, but for all intents and purposes, it ends here.)

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