Dante led the charge, each of his blades batting aside Khrave like a sharpened wind. The twin blades of white and black along with the Primarch's wings slashed Xeno warriors apart. Each blow was supersonic, cleaving Dante's foes apart and blasting the pieces with the raw kinetic force within the strikes. The Khrave farthest from the Primarchs psychic blast were charging into the fray. Quickly regrowing damaged eyes and shaking off the traumatic surge of light. It was then the second wave of Astartes arrived, the heavier transports had followed behind the Primarchs flight and were now discharging their cargo. A new noise was added to the song of battle. The Khrave screeches, Astartes battle cries, and clash of steel was joined by the thunder of guns. Angels of the Bull-Host in Terminator Armor accompanied by Brimstone-Hosts with their Volkite Cannons and Boltguns had arrived.
As unstoppable as an asteroid impact, the Terminators marched forward. Armed with mighty Thunder Hammers, Storm Shields and boltguns mounted upon their armored wings. Marked with the Winged-Bull sigil of the IX Legion's second branch they smashed through the Khrave. The Brimstone-Host in turn fanned out, finding gaps in the battle to fire their awesome weapons. Where the Bull-Host had wings of thick metal with weapon mounts capable of acting as shields and turrets. The Brimstone-Host lacked true wings, instead advanced mechadendrites armed with heavy weapons were faceted to the pseudo-limb projecting from their back.
The IX Legion advanced into the Spire, following the Archangel and destroying any resistance. The Primarch had increased his psychic aura to a shining sphere of light that burnt away the Warp-darkness the Khrave produced. As steady as the sun's rising Dante led his legion into the Hive. His wings restless to fly the Primarch charged forward. Mowing through Khrave and traitor infantry with ease. Dante knew the goal ahead of them. The massive central transport at the Spire's heart. Wrapped around the Hives core was a system of lifts and vertical railways that formed the main form of transportation within Bel-Haust. It would be heavily defended. Yet susceptible from attacks from higher levels. The defenses were designed against invasion or insurrection starting at the Hives-base. That was not the way Angels fought, they did not slog through sieges and grind their enemies to dust. They struck from the heavens and cast their foes down.
Through all of the chaos of the battlefield, Dante kept in contact with the fleet. A mixture of Vox and telepathic communication allowing the Primarch to lead the ground battle and oversee the orbital and aerial combat. Tank columns both of Astartes and Auxilia had landed around the Hive. Smashing through any and all resistance in the Hives outskirts. Rapidly approaching its base. With the Stormbirds and Interceptors harassing the Hive top, the Armored forces attacking the bottom and the deep striking host attacking the tower from within. The Khrave and Bel defenses were stretched thin. The sight of the Angels attacking across Bel-Haust had stunned and shocked its human occupants. With the less indoctrinated citizens and soldiers of the Hive turning on their overlords in frantic attempts to earn the forgiveness of the invading Legion.
Through all of this, the Primarch prepared himself. His foresight had shown him the defenses of Hossak in their near entirety. Including the one thing upon this infested world that could threaten the Imperial offense. The true guardian of Hossak. From the moment the IX Legion entered the orbit of the planet, Dante could feel it. An inscrutable alien presence slumbering within Bel-Haust hive. From an outside perspective, it seemed Hossak was only moderately defended. It was a Rangda farming world at the edge of their controlled space. Something of reasonable tactical importance, yet not defended by more than a Khrave occupation and traitor humans. This seeming weakness was a trap. A trap the Imperial Archangel had sprung with full awareness of it. Hossak was rich in natural resources aside from the "livestock" for the Rangda. It would be the perfect bait for any rising galactic civilization. Attacking Hossak would demonstrate the civilization that fell for the bait was powerful enough to do so. New prey presenting itself to the Rangda Empire. A healthy rising galactic power, perfect fodder for the Halo Stars' masters.
Attacking Hossak tied down an invading force in a siege. Giving the Rangda time to gather their forces and seek out the new prey. If the attackers were powerful enough, however. They would activate a surprise the Rangda left on Hossak. A weapon that would not only break the offense upon Hossak but traumatize the invaders, making them easy for Rangda consumption. That weapon now awoke, the trap had been sprung and the first calls to war were starting deep in the Galactic North. Now it fell to Dante to destroy the weapon and claim Hossak before the Rangda could be fully roused. As the IX Legion descended into the Hive, the Rangda weapon opened its un-eyes and watched the Primarch. Soon it would come for the Emperor's son.
After nearly an hour of fighting into the Hive-Spire, Dante and the IX Legion reached the nearest part of the transport core. A great chainhauler that formed a line of building-sized palettes being cycled from the bottom of the hive to its very top. Even as the battle raged around it the chainlift continued its movement. Rotating the massive palettes through the hive. Stopping as they connected with each section of the hive. Giving absent workers time to move cargo. Dante approached the nearest cargo container. The Primarch knew what was in each of the boxes. He had known when he first peered into the future of this battle. Still, he hoped he would be wrong. That just maybe this time was one of those times his visions failed him. Sheathing his silver sword Dante pulled one of the boxes from its setting and ripped its top off with one even motion. The container gave easily under the Primarch's grip. Icy slime started to ooze from the box, pooling onto the floor, filling the Primarch's nostrils with the scent of industrial coolant that did little to hide the other smell coming from the container. That of frozen flesh.
With an armored hand Dante wiped away layers of the slime, until the box's content was visible. It was a human body. That of a child, probably thirteen at the oldest. Shaved of all hair and emaciated. It took Dante a moment to realize he was looking at a girl. Her flesh was distorted by growth stimulants, inadequate sustenance, and a short lifetime of hardship. Her eyes stared up blankly, the terror of her death captured in a rictus. A series of brands marked her abdomen. Some long healed and stretched by years of growth, others inflicted after her death. All markings in the Rangda tongue, serial numbers. With surprising gentleness from a transhuman warlord, Dante stroked the child's face with a single, hulking digit. With a motion, he shut the girl's eyes. Pulling away from the murdered child Dante whispered words of power and summoned golden flames, turning the body before him to ash.
Faster than even his honor guard could react, Dante grabbed another coffin from the stack and stared down at another dead child. Alien chemicals had swollen these children to the size of adults, increasing the development of bones, neural tissue and other organic matter the Rangda Empire hungered for. Repeating his earlier actions, the Primarch cremated the remains and moved onto another coffin. Then another and another. At that moment, Dante hated his transhuman genius. From just a glance around him, he automatically calculated how many bodies were on the palette. ten thousand human children were boxed as food upon the massive palette. A million for every cycle of the chainlift. The product of hundreds of city-farms across Hossak. All being transported up into the void to feed a ravenous Empire of monsters.
Igniting the entire palette with a wave of his hand, Dante stepped away from it. The IX Legion were spreading out across the hive. The Bull-Host were smashing their way into the upper hive's more fortified sections. Khrave resistance was fierces but barely able to slow down the Astartes. The Hayyoth and other Legion high command were performing excellently. Reports of entire cities across Hossak falling were trickling back. The outer perimeter of Bel-Haust had fallen. The Imperial Armor cracking the walls under sheer power of ordinance. Scouts were observing the first retreats. Both Khrave defenders and Bel traitors were feeling the pressure. The Khrave were not a warrior-breed. They were meant to find and control food sources for their Masters. The Bel, in turn, had lived more than a century engaging in the worst crimes mankind could commit. No matter how much propaganda or Xeno taint they swallowed, something inside them knew what they were doing was wrong. Not even out of a sense of morality, but a fear of punishment once held accountable.
Reaching out telepathically, Dante spoke to the Hayyoth and gave operational command to them. The force within the Hive would locate the shield generators and destroy them. He trusted his eldest sons to perform admirably. They were creatures of war, designed to fight and win even the worst conflicts. The Primarch was different, more than just a tool of war. He was an ancient divinity given flesh. Power reclaimed on Moloch, clad in physical form crafted by mankind's genius. Dante was the Angel of Mankind. Born to watch, to protect, and to destroy. Since the earliest days of human history, the greatest of crimes were believed to be punished by divine retribution. Angels of Death, Destroying Angels, Wrath of Gods, Heavenly Judgement, Divine Watchers, Tool of Smiting. So many terms for that primal idea. The idea that powers beyond anything that primitive man could imagine would protect the weak and punish the wicked.
Dante was that idea, and many more. He surrendered the burden of command to his sons and embraced his truest nature. Plunging his silver and black swords into the hive floor with such strength it did not just pierce the metal but cracked it in twenty meters around him, Dante spread his wings wide and roared a challenge to the Hive of the Damned. "FACE ME!"
A shockwave blasted through the hive like the Trumpet of Revelations, shattering glass and cracking stone for miles in every direction. Thousands upon thousands of Bel throughout the Hive-Spire were deafened instantly. Khrave were brought low by the psychic detonation. The Primarch's challenge was shouted into both sides of existence. Rippling through the Warp and the Hive's atmosphere equally. Dante wanted to call out the Weapon the Rangda left. Let the Archangel face a monster worthy of his wrath. It was more than willing.
The entire Hive of Bel-Haust felt something shift.. Across the billions of mortals inhabiting the Hive, a vague sense of vertigo spread. A feeling that some cavernous pit had been opened. An abyss widening to swallow them all. The fear and tension from the battle boiled over. Weak willed traitors had their minds snapped by an Angels Wrath and an abominations awakening. The screaming started across the hive. Thousands leapt willingly to their deaths, weeping and laughing as they went. Riots broke out as entire Hab-blocks descended into mob-frenzy.
All while something primordial rose from below the Hive. Every soul-bearing creature within fifty kilometers could feel it. The Imperial Auxilia were rattled, but quickly recovered. They had been trained for worse. Fighting alongside Angels, the Auxilia pushed through the pain and fought on. From the Hive's deepest core something slithered higher and higher. Feeling it coming closer, Dante was reminded of a well rapidly filling with putrid water. A rising tide of evil that flowed upwards through the hive's central channels. After a long moment, the presence rose up to the level Dante stood upon. Slowly the Primarch raised his swords and changed stance. He could feel an ugly intelligence pressing against his soul.
"Come monster, face your judgment."Dante spat, igniting psychic flames and power-fields upon his weapons. A thunderous crash of ripping metal and breaking stone was the xeno's response. The Rangda safeguard had pulled itself up from its nest through the thermal exchange tunnel at the Hives center. Now it barreled through the structure of Bel-Haust to reach its target. The local hive shook with impact after impact as the monster smashed through the superstructure. Not caring for obstacles or path of least resistance. It simply charged a straight line forward. Hive-Quakes started to rattle through the acrology from the damage inflicted. Dante paid them no head. His mind and body focused on whatever was coming for him.
With nightmarish force, the monster smashed through its final obstacle. Entering the Dockyard the Primarch and his honor guard stood within. It was fast, too fast even for Astartes. Smashing Azkellion and his Brothers away with a lash of power the monster reached its target. Limb/Blade/Things came down upon Dante's crossed blades with the force of artillery. The Primarch did not move, but the steel beneath him buckled slightly from the blow. Staring at his foe Dante felt its name upon his lips. A name that would be the last frantic scream of millions of Imperial soldiers in the years to come. The title was given to the most powerful of the Rangda War-Breeds. One earned through impossible actions and nightmarish power. "Theophage, God-Eater."
In the coming years, the Imperium would learn the truth of the Rangda. How they were naturally Blanks. Protected from the dangers of the warp, and yet still capable of using its power through accursed methods. When a Rangda infests a host body, it devours it fully. The Xeno consumed their soul and used it as fuel for Psychic Arts. The Khrave and some other vassal-breeds were designed to be naturally psychic and capable of gaining bits of power from what they consumed. Yet they were still weak to the threats of the Warp. True Rangda however, were different. Long ago they had altered there very connection to the Warp. Becoming a species of Blanks, protected from Chaos and many dangers of the Warp. Still, these parasites were unwilling to give up the powers of the immaterium. They learned the art of feeding on souls as well as flesh. Using the broken fragments of there victims warp-presence to power biological sorcery. Devouring sentient beings and fueling alien rituals and warp-craft. The ultimate defilement and consumption of there prey.
Strong Warbreeds of Rangda could take this dread parasitism to its next level. Taking a host claimed by another power for themselves. Infecting and devouring Daemons of Chaos. Capturing Daemonhosts and manifested Neverborn and consuming them entirely. This required a force of will and power beyond most any mortal breed is capable. And yet, it was not the pinnacle of these warp-eating arts. The greatest of the greatest Rangda hunted the chosen of the Dark Gods. Daemon Princes, Greater Daemons, Heralds and other servants/pieces of the Four. That is a Theophage. A predator of Greater Daemons, chaos itself enslaved and devoured by Rangda might. No longer fueling its power with scraps of souls but the digested remains of the Dark Gods chosen.
Hossak lacked the usual swarm of Neverborn found at places of great atrocity. Not because of the broken nature of the discarded soul-stuff. Because they feared a predator greater than themselves. Now that monster faced down the IX Primarch. The Theophage of Hossak, hungering to taste the Anathema's child.
Greater Daemons in the material are masses of Warp-Power wrapped around a host body, given context and form by the Daemon's nature. Soul-Bearers saw the Daemon through the lens of its story. A being made of massacre and bloodshed appeared as winged hulks with horns and a greatsword. The product of pandemics appeared as a bloated rotten corpse carried by swarms of vermin. Theophages had no such context. They were not the result of emotions or events within the Warp. They were all that power consumed by an Alien mind, forged into a living weapon. The Theophage before the Primarch looked like a hole. A gap in reality that shifted and moved like an animal. Inverted space shaped in a vaguely humanoid form. Flashes of light, sound, and emotion flickered across/through/into the Theophages body. If the Primarch focused he could make out a vague shape underneath the "unshape of its body" A nightmarish visage of human and alien features together and marred by ancient battle-scars.
The Theophage spoke, not telepathically or by any conventional means. It sucked air into itself creating some inversion of speech. Speaking in a vacuum staccato of phrases plucked from humans it devoured. "Hibernating-Rock-Valuable-Now. Punishment-Guard-Complete. Wake-Spawn-Unleash-Death-Feed-FEED-FEED-Enemy-God-Ours."
Dante responded with a snarl and slashed his swords at the Theophage. It created tendril/limbs similar to Khrave Warp-Glamours to block his blows. Blades made of flickering madness lashed out at the Primarch. Imperial metal and Rangda Warp-flesh clashing faster than the human eye could react. Dante deflected a blow aiming for his head and the Theophage spun its body with the force of its blow. Redirecting the impact at a nearby Ophanim guard. Reducing the Astartes to a bloody smear upon the ground. Cursing himself Dante charged forward. Catching the Theophages arm-blades with his Wings. The Primarch thrust his twin blades through the monster's shoulders. Twisting his blades in deeper, Dante pushed off the ground with tremendous force. Launching himself and the Theophage hundreds of feet upward. Crashing them into the vaulted ceiling of the Dockyard.
Letting go of his swords Dante wrapped his armored hands around what he thought was the Theophages throat. The impact into the ceiling had freed Dantes wings and let him put them to full use. Transhuman muscle and incredible telekinetic force combined to propel Primarch and Theophage towards the Dockyard's gate. With each mighty downthrust of the Archangels wings the duo flew faster and faster. The swords lodged in the Theophages body burned its unflesh, making it flicker and twitch like a weak vox transmission. Gripping its throat seared Dantes hands. The caustic, broken nature of the Theophage rot/melted the auramite of the Primarchs gauntlets, forcing the Primarch to grip the barely contained Warp-Stuff of the Theophage with his bare skin. The pain of what was tantamount to sticking his hands into the Warp itself was nothing to Dante compared to his sons and subjects dying from his failures. He dragged the Theophage out of the dockyard and into the open sky of Hossak, blasting past entire Astartes squads before they could react.
As the soot-filled sky of Hossak surrounded the pair Dante let go. Ripping his swords from the Theophage and landing an armored kick to the monster's torso before disengaging. Flying up with a flap of his wings Dante watched the Theophage fall. Sending a telepathic message to Azkellon and the other Ophanim. Dante ordered them to assist in the destruction of the Bel-Haust shields. Turning his attention back to the falling Theophage. Dante felt disgust as he watched the new form it had taken. While still a gap in reality roughly shaped into a humanoid shape. It now flew up to challenge him in a twisted way. The Theophage's body seemed to undulate, swell and deflate like a Terran cephalopod, letting it move through the air like those ancient creatures do through water.
The Theophages arms stretched into long sinuous tendrils that reached out towards the Primarch. The air shimmered close to the Theophage as if the atmosphere itself wanted to move away from this Warp-wrapped creature. Dante could feel the Theophage's hunger boiling in the Warp. The creature made no attempt to disguise or hide its alien thoughts, broadcasting a palpable desire to crack open the Primarchs skull and devour his brain and nervous system. Even clad in an exoskeleton of stolen Warp-Power the Rangda was still a Cerabvore. Its tendrils lashed out at Dante and the Primarch easily dodged the blow. The Theophage seemed to pause for a moment and extend its senses outward feeling the losing battle across the Hive. Even as its ravening hunger for powerful flesh and souls gnawed away at it. The Theophage was no stupid beast. Quite the opposite in fact. It was of the highest pedigree of Rangda war-breeds. Cultivated in the flesh of a Vargheist host and trained from hatching to hunt Neverborn. Much like the Primarch it faced, the Theophage was more than a supremely powerful combatant. It was also a commander and force multiplier.
In an echoing vocalization that swept through the Warp and atmosphere, the Theophage reached out to the defenders of Bel-Haust, giving an order in the language of Rangda. Human tongues lack the ability to adequately describe the meaning of the order. The closest one could come is a proclamation meaning "Hatch-Rise-Awake-Rebirth-Claim-Defend-Unleash". As the command echoed through the Hive of Bel-Haust something started to change. A shift in the Khrave and human traitor armies fighting against Imperium. For unbeknownst to the Imperium the Rangda word for Farm or Agriculture has another simultaneous meaning. Nest and Nursery. Hossak was far more than a simple agrarian world meant to raise human cattle to slaughter. It was a breeding ground for the children of Rangda.
The Khrave were created in ages past by the Rangda to travel the stars, searching for sentient species to consume. Yet that was not all they were born to do. The word Khrave itself translates into Gothic as "Scavenging-Womb." Born as parasitic worms that infest stolen flesh. The Khrave find populations to conquer and devour then. Once the food source is secured and the first shipments of Brains, Bone and Bodies flow to the Core Worlds of Rangda. The Great House of the Empire that owned the Khrave conquerors would bless them with their seed. The viral life form known as the Rangda wound infect the Khrave and their host bodies. Infesting the jubilant Khrave. Slowly turning both Khrave-Worm and augmented host-body into the body of a Rangda Clan-Member.
The Rangda infection can spread rapidly, taking over entire worlds. Subverting entire populations from the inside out as they devour their nervous systems. However, that method was not the preferred. Saved for the lower castes and times of trouble. Rangda of higher pedigree were nurtured by their sire-Houses. Slowly gestating inside selected host-bodies for years or decades. Before emerging stronger and smarter. The Khrave were created to aid this process. Stealing useful bodies for their Masters and protecting them while enhancing the flesh. Waiting for the Rangda infection to spread into their own nervous system. Ending the life-cycle of the Khrave and starting that of the Rangda.
The Khrave worm even provides a valuable distraction for any enemies. They will rip out the worm and leave the seemingly dead husk behind. Not knowing a Rangdan Cerebivore or Osseivore grew within. Leaving the Rangda to survive another day. Or be awakened prematurely if needed, along with all its other kin. And that's precisely what the Theophage intended to do. Awaken the hundreds of thousands of Rangda growing within the Khrave, living or dead. At first, nothing seemed to happen. The battle continued as it had with Astartes cutting through the Khrave with methodical ease. Then the Khrave stopped dying. Bolt shells would rip the head off a Khrave warrior and it would keep coming. Melta fire turned its torso into burning sludge and the Xenos limbs kept operating there weapons. Across the Hive, the Astartes and Auxilia were caught off guard. Champion duelists turned away from bisected enemies to the newest foe. Then catch a blade into their armored ribs from the awakened Rangda.
Khrave bodies left to rot suddenly started to stir. Sparks of Warp-Energy channeled through cyborganic sorcery knitting bone, tissue and plastic back together. The IX Legion no longer faced a Khrave occupation force. Instead a newborn generation of Rangda. Sentient viral colonies that had slumbered now awoke and took command of the bodies prepared for them. Knowledge and skills woven into these spawns of the Rangda Clans and Houses kicked in. The primitive Warp-Glamours of the Khrave were cast aside. Flesh and metal impregnated with Warp Energy filtered through alien minds was unsheathed. Gouts of Necrotizing light that turned limbs to rotten stumps flashed. Horrible spikes of steel coated in a film of infected mucus extended from healing limbs.
Within Bel-Haust, Azkaellon led a force of Astartes through the darkened halls of the Upper Hive. They had followed the Primarchs orders and cut their way towards the nexus of the Hives peak and left a trail of broken corpses in their wake. The leader of the Primarch's Honor Guard flashed his blades as his company of Heroes was surrounded. Fallen Khrave from behind them rose up as Rangda and defenders before them awoke devastating power. Azkaellon hacked through an attacking Rangda Cerebvore as four of its comrades latched onto a Bull-Host terminator. Even through the thick ceramite shell of the armor, Azkaellon could hear the dying screams of fury and pain from his battle-brother. The Rangda had peeled the Terminators helmet off with lacerating tentacle-swords. Now the largest of the Four Xenos shoved cruel feeder limbs into the Astartes brain. Devouring him as he thrashed in his death throes.
Roaring in fury Azkaellon brandished his wings. Transhuman muscle and archotech metal throwing Rangda war-forms aside with ease. The Herald of the Primarch drew his bolt pistol and took aim at the feeding Xeno. Switching to Inferno rounds, the Captain-Commander of the Ophanim opened fire. A storm of gyro-jets burning hot enough to melt steel pounded into the Rangda, knocking the Xeno off its victim and letting Azkaellon pour more bolts into it. It still thrashed and attempted to stand even as the burning Bolts tore through its flesh. Yet as it burned it grew slower and more sluggish. The Rangda virus acting as a nervous system dying from the heat. As the last round of the Bolt-Pistol exited the magazine Azkaellon drove his blade into the Rangda's body. Hacking it to pieces with merciless efficiency. Ripped to burning shreds the scraps of the Rangda showed no sign of life. Ordering his force to switch to energy or superheated projectiles Azkaellon rallied the Angels and they fought forwards. Burning and ripping the Rangda as they went.
Back outside the Hive, Dante realized what had just occurred. The Theophage had rallied his army to match the Astartes Legion. This secret weapon the Rangda left behind to ensure control of Hossak needed to be stopped. As Archangel and God-Eater clashed in the sky, the Primarch gritted himself. He intended to end this duel and this battle as soon as possible. He would burn a message into the Rangda, a message of wrath and ruin. Showing them what was to come. Rangda wear the stolen flesh of their victims as bodies. No difference for the Theophage. Its true form was wrapped in an exoskeleton of Warp-Stuff. Taken from dozens of Greater Daemons it devoured over the centuries. A feat that made it one of the mightiest combatants in the galaxy. Few if any Astartes champions would be able to match a Theophage in single combat. Even mighty Abaddon or stoic Sigismund would fare poorly against this monster.
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