Imperium Ascendant

Chapter Fifteen: The Aquila and the Dragon.

The Emperor's quarters were sparse, not yet holding the various mementos, trophies, and piles of official documents it would fill with throughout the Great Crusade. A Bed, meditation space, desk, small library, workstation, and wardrobe. The last of those items was now the focus of the Emperor's attention.

Within it was a collection of uniforms, robes and other garments the Emperor wore when not on the field of war. Of these clothes, he sought one in particular. It was an ancient relic from the worst days of Strife. It was another of the Emperors inventions, a suit of woven nano-gossamer inlaid with Psi-reactive crystals. It was known as the Shadow of Judgment.

It looked like a pool of liquid shadows suspended in a magnetic cradle. Revelation did not so much don it, as immerse himself in the inky material. It flowed over his bare skin and clothing like oil. Soon his entire body was covered with the substance. Taking a deep breath right as it covered his head the Emperor let his power flow into the Psychic-circuits carved into the very molecules of the suit.

Reacting to its master the material formed around him and molded itself into a suit of armor. Unlike the hulking warplate, he wore when leading armies to battle this was a more subtle tool. Designed to allow him unrestricted accesses and subtlety the Shadow of Judgment was arguably the single greatest piece of Man-portable stealth technology in human history.

Nanotechnology, scavenged Eldar relics, and the Emperors own genius had come together to give an Emperor the secrecy he needed to salvage as much as he could during Mankind's fall. He remembered viscerally the sights and sounds of the last times he had worn this armor. An age when humanity did not need a champion and ruler to save them. When the only salvation was to hide in the shadows and beg the storm passed you over.

*Sneaking through Hive-sized abominations of scrap metal and insanity, desperately searching for its Singularity Unit as it lumbered towards a refugee camp of 50 Million innocents.*

*Gangs of Drug-Addled and depraved Eldar stalking him through the burning Capital City of Eldaneshuri*

The Armor finally settled around him, its design was reminiscent of a great bird of prey and combined with the Emperor's own skills and powers made him virtually undetectable. To those who he wanted to see him, he appeared like an Obsidian Eagle carved out of the shadows. Suitably intimidating for the line of work it was built for.

Letting his body and mind settle into routines not used in centuries Revelation became a phantom of the likes Konrad, Kota, and Kalib aspired to be. Even his Custodes were unaware as he slipped past them. Removed from their minds and auto-senses he was undetectable.

Soon he exited the Bucephalus through its open ramp. Right in between the Custodes and Knights who had spent the last few hours staring at each other from either end of the gantry. Into the Martian Night, Revelation flew. He rarely got to use his bodies full capabilities, the Emperors physical form was a highly variable thing that could be modified how over he wished.

Millenia of knowledge in the fields of Biomancy, Transhumanism, and simple biology had given him absolute control over every cell in his being. Combined with his psychic gifts the Emperor could appear as anyone and virtually anything. Now he was an Avian-Shadow moving as fast as Superhuman Muscle and Nano-fibers could.

Within seconds he had cleared the crater's edge and jumped dozens of meters into the air. Mars low gravity made his expedition that much quicker. Moving like a black bolt of lighting across the ancient peak of Olympus Mons the Emperor allowed himself a few moments of tranquillity.

Life had been a frantic, painful race against time over the last few millennia and moments of enjoyment like this were few and far between. A few decades ago he would not have allowed himself the simple joy of testing his own physicality, duty and stress had threatened to crush the humanity of the eldest human.

That message from a distant hopefully averted future had reignited the Emperor's humanity. While he had intended to have the Primarch project drain some of his more excessive emotions it would have only turned him into such a callous figure if he had allowed it. That version of the Emperor had been willing and wanted to give up his humanity to save the species.

The Emperor who now leaped between colossal industrial sites as if they were a gymnasium had realized that humanity needed a human leader. If he gave up his emotions and sentiment he would be a perfect machine to control the destiny of mankind. Gazing out across the pocked surface of Mars he was viscerally reminded of what had happened the last time something similar had occurred.

While the Memories were still blurry and partially concealed Revelation had a suspicion there was more to the story of the God-Emperor's decay and the cause of the Heresy. He could only hope the trust he had put in that living corpse and its decisions was the correct choice.

Any attempt to unlock Memories before the God-Emperor had wanted them to be had been met with Psychic warnings that they would be deleted if he continued. So now he could only wait and use the wisdom of the past and future to help forge a better present.

Keeping his speed to below Martian Mach speed in order to prevent notable air-disturbance the Emperor quickly approached the Edge of Olympus Mons. Here the ancient Shield Volcano's slopes dropped away into a twenty-kilometer cliff-face of time-worn stone. A different Emperor would have slithered down its side and crept through the industrial landscape below. Emperor Revelation: the Master of Mankind and Anathema of Chaos leaped off the precipice.

Armored Wings expanded from his shoulder blades and carried the Emperor aloft. The Martian atmosphere prevented mechanical flight but the wings served a purpose. The Psi-Crystals within the wings could be energized separately from the main armor allowing telekinetic propulsion that was subtle enough to remain undetected while powerful enough to allow Supersonic flight. This allowed the armors body to maintain its other functions.

Like a shadow of the great Aquila he had summoned a few hours previous the Emperor soared over Mars. The industrial landscape before him was a patchwork of craters, (both natural and unnatural) living habs and colossal Forges-Temples that belched ash and dust into the sky. He found it saddening how Mars had reverted to its earliest roots. When the Red Planet was first settled humanity had migrated nearly all of its industrial techbase to it. The move was what saved Earths rapidly declining biosphere and helped push humanity towards interstellar civilization.

Eventually, during the Golden Age, the second capital of humanities state as an industrial disaster zone was deemed unacceptable and massive cleanup and terraforming projects were put in place. Research centers and industrial complexes were buried far beneath Mars surface in great futuristic catacombs that held millennia of acquired knowledge and insight into the cosmos. After centuries of world-shaping miracles, Terra shared its title of Blue Gem of Sol with another.

That world could maybe live again if the galaxy and sanity could survive the oncoming storm. Eventually, the heavily industrialized landscape below started to transition to the Crimson deserts of Mars. He was close to his destination, it was a place that Martians had avoided for as long as humans had set foot on this planet. The Noctis Labyrinthus: The Dragons Tomb.

The twelve hundred kilometer long scar on Mars's face had originally been bought by a number of shell companies owned by Revelation during the early Martian expansion. It had been a major legal scandal when the media discovered the Companies were dumping radioactive, toxic and industrial waste into what was one of the wonders of the Solar System.

This had prevented the area from being declared a Natural Wonder and becoming a much-visited location along with helping galvanize the public to campaign for better stewardship of humanities cultural and natural wonders. These were both the Emperor's goals and the Labyrinthus had been protected successfully, until the living hell of the Cybernetic Revolt.

The Emperor had always known the day when the thing he had sealed below Mars's surface would awake would come. Yet it struck at the single worst moment, during the Lost War. Humanity was fighting a pitched battle against the Ancient Aeldari Empire.

The Solar Federation had reached never before seen heights of technological and societal advancement. None could question their might and wisdom. Countless species had been integrated or vassalized into this commonwealth. Seeing visions of the inevitable Fall of the Eldar and the horrors it would unleash Revelation had pushed humanity into crushing the only other contender on the galactic scale.

It was easy to do, the Aeldari Empire had earned the ire of all sentient life through their cruelty and sadism. The few human psychics along with their Xeno equivalents could sense the growing tumor within the Immaterium and knew action must be taken. Armadas and Armies greater than anything the galaxy had seen except for the War in Heaven amassed at Arcadia: the Last Harbor.

The Emperor himself, masquerading as a Transhuman General lead from the front during the conflict. It was a horrible period of death and destruction. Echoing the War the Aeldari were designed to fight the Masters of the Materium and Immaterium battled. Every battle was a pitched conflict that often ended in deadlock. Yet steadily, slowly the Solar Federation pushed deeper and deeper into the tainted heart of the Galaxies current rulers.

The sights they saw drove some of the weaker soldiers insane and would haunt even the most ancient and battle-hardened Veteran of the Beast Wars for the rest of their lives. Planet wide blood-orgies were legions of hunters, once followers of Kuronos continuously brought billions of innocents to be used in the maddening debauchery. Pocket Dimensions filled with living art that still screamed and begged for death even after gouts of Plasma had reduced them to cinders.

These and other nightmares had utterly validated the worthiness of their cause and invigorated the Federation Forces. The Knife-Ears would be put to the blade as punishment for their countless evils. Worlds that had been centers of Aeldari civilization before humans had even become fully upright were purged. Mechanical hosts battled Warp-Born abominations and for a scant moment it seemed the era of the Aeldari was at an end,

The Seers and Soothsayers of their enemy must have sensed it too for they devised a truly horrific scheme to cripple Humanity. It was brilliant, vindictive and utterly brazen. They intended to release the thing sleeping below Mars. Confident that after it had crippled the upstart Mon'keigh the Yngir Dragon would be easy to slay. For they had done it once an age ago, what was to stop them from doing it again?

Sensing their intent the Emperor rushed back to Sol to stop the insanity. He could still remember it viscerally, Eldar blood cooking on his blood as he moved through the ancient Metal tunnels. The deep bass hum of the emerald energy that started to seep through the cavern cracks. How the Eldar had looked at him when he entered the Dragon's Heart. Sadistic glee played across the vermins face as it screamed in heavily accented Gothic "Too late Mon'keigh! Your fate has been decided by your better. This is your punishment for daring to stand against the rightful masters of the galaxy!"

The Emperor still savored the memory of the Seers face contorting first in confusion, then mind breaking fear once it realized the power of the being before it. That was little consolation for the damage done by the Xeno's. After erasing it from existence Revelation attempted to keep the Dragon sealed.

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Ages past in his youth he had cast the monster down after discovering it feeding off primitive humans. It had been weak and near dead then. If he had been an instant faster that would have still been the case. At that moment before Revelation reached it the Dragon had slipped its Eldritch Tendrils into the Neurosphere. The grand data-web that linked humanity across the Stars had been breached.

Like the ravenous predator, it was the Dragon gorged itself on the trillions of digital life forms living within the Neurosphere. Entire civilizations of digitized Humans were slaughtered and consumed. Data-Habs were emptied into the Monsters maw in a futile effort to satiate its endless hunger for sentient life.

Those unlucky enough to be spared the devouring were corrupted, an intellect older than Terra itself turned its malignant desire to creating new slaves and thralls. Super Intelligences that had faithfully served humanity since the Age of Old Earth ordered the extermination of worlds. Uploaded ancestors and Cybernetic gods butchered trillions.

The Solar Federations mighty fleets broke apart, busy fighting corrupted members and racing back to Federations Space in a vain attempt to stop the Slaughter. The Galaxy burned as allied species that had sworn blood-oaths of loyalty and brotherhood to humanity turned upon us. The Eldar were content to watch the insanity and slither back into their debauchery undisturbed.

Machines and cruel intelligences unleashed weapons beyond the understanding of mortal humans. The Neurosphere became the Dragons domain and the Federation was fractured. Each world desperate to survive the Cybernetic Holocaust. Silica Animus, once humanities greatest ally and tool became its downfall.

Yet before the Dragon-Reborn could slip its fetters and began its conquest and consumption Revelation reached it. The Dragon and the Warrior-King faced each other once again. Glutted on the energy of entire civilizations the Dragon was quickly becoming the Lord of Oblivion that broke the Old Ones, yet as long as it was bound its might was diminished.

The Dragon had indeed grown mighty but so had Revelation. The psychic light of the being now known as the Emperor of Mankind called to all human souls untouched by the Great Enemy. Any fallen Child of Terra who was within its range became one with it. Protected and safe they could rest for eternity as their psychic spark increased the might of the Emperor.

For over thirty-three millennia Revelation had protected humanity and grown in power and wisdom. Reaching heights only ever matched by the Greatest of the Old Ones. Now the deaths of trillions who had been lucky enough to be within the glow of the Beacon network empowered him further. It was one of the Federations most classified secrets that he provided the spark to the Navis-Networks series of Warp-Pyres.

The Dragon and Dragonslayer both reaching a state any mortal would call Godhood clashed. Material and Immaterial energies battled as the Federation crumbled. Through herculean effort, Revelation plunged his ancient blade into its neck and bound it with chains of white-hot psychic power.

Psi-Flames burned through the Dragon and the visceral roars it produced shook the very fabric of spacetime. Yet it still reached out through the Neurosphere, that domain utterly within its grasp. The Iron War would only worsen if the Dragon could still manipulate the Legions of Automata and Digitized Humans future generations would name the Men of Iron.

With a heavy heart, the Dragonslayer unleashed a final and terrible weapon. One that would protect humanity and the galaxy from the Dragon while also destroying so much the species had worked for. This final weapon was born from the ignorance and arrogance of the Dragon.

The greatest mistake and weakness of the so-called Star-Gods was a product of their very nature. The long dead species that gave them form had mistaken them for simple but powerful Energy beings, but they were so much more. The race the Hrud called Mirror-Devils had found living avatars of the cosmos's natural order and molded them into Cruel Gods.

Entropy became a Reaper of Life. Gravity and Love became linked and went insane. Energy sought nothing but ruin an inferno. The greatest and most terrible of these avatars was Time given Draconic shape. The Lord Oblivion that had slept within the Red Planet. As incarnates of Natural laws and fundamental constants the Realm of Impossibility was not just corrosive and destructive but outside their influence and sight.

If the Dragon had not been blind to the Warp it would have never breached the Neurosphere. For this great domain of information and data was not some massive computer network or Data-link like the Dragon thought. It had been built into a pocket of sanity within the Warp itself using impossible technology. These Akashic Records had been crafted to safeguard all human knowledge and digital creations. The Dragon had violated them and consumed its inhabitants, and exposed itself.

In a great psychic blow, Revelation ripped open the envelope of reality than contained the Neurosphere. The frothing acidic insanity of the Warp surged into the semi-digital realm of mankind's wonders. Like an ocean of cancerous bile it filled and corrupted this new domain. Adding a new source of corruption and horror to taint the increasingly mad mechanical legions

Legions of Steel and Electricity fell upon themselves as the twin corruptions of Dragon and Daemons battled. The twin calamities of humanities suffering and the Eldars debauchery stirred the Warp into a frenzy unseen since the End of the War in Heaven.

The Psychic backlash had coursed through the Neurosphere and into the Dragons own being. Forcing it back fully into its own body where it was bound utterly by Revelations power. Poisoned by the Warp and broken by Emperor-to-be it returned to its previous existence as a Dead-God Dreaming.

Now the Emperor of Mankind had come to ensure the imprisonment of the Dragon, ensure the survival and sanity of its Guardian and maybe just maybe gain yet another weapon in the War against the Great Enemy. As much as the Yngirs nature made them a victim of the Warp it offered a measure of protection from one of its weapons. The sight into possibility offered by the Warp was always murky in regards to them.

It was worryingly similar to a Blank or Pariah in some ways. An empty spot on the canvas of destiny that could only be deciphered by viewing the picture around it. In the God-Emperor's reality, this expedition never occurred, yet his own visions of the future changed by the Primarchs new fate and memories from his broken counterpart informed him this was the best path to take. With grim certainty, the Emperor of Mankind clad in the Shadow of Judgment reached the entrance to the Dragons tomb.

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