章 15: Awaken
To the onlooker, it was both mesmerizing and horrifying—a fight so close and vicious it blurred the line between combat and self-destruction. Minutes passed, or perhaps centuries. Their movements slowed as exhaustion seeped into their broken forms, but neither stopped.
"Enough!" Slaanesh's voice broke through the chaos. Her tone, once commanding, now carried a desperate edge. "Kayvaan, stop! Please, I beg you. If we go on, we'll both die. Why are you doing this? What has the False Emperor done to make you so insane?"
Kayvaan didn't answer. His actions were mechanical, like a machine. He raised his arm and drove his claws into her again. "Stop, please!" she screamed. "Why are you so stubborn? You're human, Kayvaan! No matter what they turned you into, deep down, you're just a man. You're tired, aren't you? Exhausted! Why not give in and rest?"
He ignored her, lifting his arm with difficulty. The claws plunged into her once more. "Think about it," she gasped. "Eternal happiness, even if false, would feel real. What's more terrifying—being trapped in a dream you never wake from or living in a nightmare you can never escape?"
Kayvaan struggled but forced his arm up again, his claws driving into her body. "Why do this to yourself? Reality is dark, bloody, and full of pain. You've seen it. You've lived it. Don't you want peace?"
Again, he raised his arm, slower this time, and pierced her flesh. "You're insane," she whispered, her voice faltering. "I'm dead, and you can't live either. Your soul is on the brink of dissolving. So tell me—how can you claim victory?"
Across from him, she rose to her feet. The scars across her body were horrific, as if she'd been through a blender. Torn and mangled, yet, shockingly, her wounds were healing at an unnatural speed.
Kayvaan remained calm, unfazed by the grotesque sight. His voice was steady, resolute. "You don't understand. A daemon like you could never grasp the essence of an Adeptus Astartes. We give up everything—our ordinary lives, our comforts—for one purpose: to protect humanity. Being Astartes is about dedication. It's about sacrifice, not gain or possession."
She laughed, her smile twisted and eerie. "So you sacrificed yourself to take me down with you?" Her tone was mocking. "And for what? So your pitiful apprentice can inherit your broken body and your legacy, only to keep serving your false Emperor?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know about him?"
She tilted her head, her grin widening as if savoring some private joke. "Hahahaha! I told you, everything is going exactly as expected. No exceptions." Her tone grew sharper, yet more amused. "Your poor little apprentice—he's not like you, is he? He's just a regular human. Do you honestly think he can resist all those temptations? Money, indulgence, lust, power, vanity—all those sweet things mortals crave? He'll crumble, Kayvaan. He'll fall sooner or later. Sure, you've won this battle. I'll vanish with you. But the real game? It's only just begun, and you won't be around to see it."
Kayvaan coughed, blood trickling from his mouth, but his gaze remained unwavering. "I believe in him. He is my best apprentice. Flawed, yes, but kind. And as long as he holds onto that kindness, he'll endure."
Her expression twisted into something dark and angry, her voice rising in frustration. "And what did you get from all this, Kayvaan? Yes, you won—but at what cost? What do you have now? Nothing! You're dying, just like me! Why do you humans cling to these ideals, these pointless sacrifices, when you never get anything in return?"
Kayvaan chuckled faintly, his voice soft yet firm. "What have I gained? I've gained exactly what I always wanted. I know my place in the universe. I am one of the Crows, a combat instructor, a soldier. And now, I've achieved the perfect ending. Victory or death—that's our creed. And now, I get both. For a Crow, what could be better than that?"
Their forms began to fade, dissolving into the void. The woman turned her gaze to Joe, her demeanor strangely serene. She was Kayvaan's adversary, an incarnation of the Chaos god Slaanesh, yet in this moment, she seemed like something more. Neither regretful nor angry, she smiled as if she had simply been part of a game—a game that had reached its natural conclusion. Winning or losing seemed irrelevant now.
Her voice carried a calmness that was almost serene. "Joe," she said, her smile unwavering. "I will remember you. Your face, your soul. One day, I'll wait for you in the Temple of Joy. There, all your desires can be fulfilled. Eternal happiness, Joe. It's yours for the taking. Unlike your foolish mentor, I believe you'll make the smart choice.
"I could explain it all—how to see this cruel, ugly galaxy for what it really is. But joy is fleeting in a place like this. So, I'll leave you with a gift instead. The darkness will remain, even when I'm gone. Use its power. Don't chain yourself to meaningless ideals. Nothing is more important than your own happiness."
With that, both Kayvaan and the daemon vanished, their final words echoing in the collapsing void. The warp dissolved into darkness.
The sun shone warmly on Terra, casting a gentle glow across the silver-white plaza. White doves soared overhead, their wings glinting in the light. Fountains sprayed arcs of water into the sky, droplets scattering like diamonds as they fell. Even the sound of water seemed joyful on this tranquil spring day.
The Imperium had recently marked the dawn of the 41st millennium. A grand parade and carnival had been held in the Imperial Palace district, filling the streets with cheers and hymns. Though the festivities had subsided, an air of reverence still lingered.
Nobles from across the galaxy had gathered for the event. Some stayed behind to cultivate connections and secure their positions within the sprawling bureaucracy of the Administratum. Others, devout believers, visited the vast cathedrals to sing hymns and offer their prayers before golden reliquaries of the Emperor. But many nobles simply indulged, reveling in the rare opportunity to bask in the magnificence of Terra—the heart of the Imperium.
Terra was not only the political and military center of the galaxy but also its spiritual core. The Ecclesiarchy, seated here, stood as the highest religious authority in the Imperium. Though the Synod Ministra on Ophelia VII rivaled it in influence, centuries of tradition ensured that Terra was still regarded as the true heart of the Imperial Creed.
After all, the Emperor Himself resided here on the Golden Throne. Pilgrims and nobles alike flocked to the towering cathedrals and ancient monuments, drawn by the weight of history and faith. For many, standing on this sacred ground was the pinnacle of a lifetime of devotion.
Cathedrals large enough for starships to pass through stood like monuments to titanic gods, their colossal forms dwarfing everything around them. The intricate bas-reliefs and carvings adorning their facades told stories of the Imperium's countless victories and sacrifices. Above these majestic structures, spires pierced the heavens, adorned with sculptures of saints and heroes locked in eternal triumph. Together, they painted a scene of unmatched grandeur—a testament to humanity's resilience in a galaxy of endless war.
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