Warhammer 40k: Ours Journey

Chapter 10: The Emperor is Haunting Us

Within the desecrated arena, the ravaged bodies of the Deathwatch Space Marines had been collected and laid out in neat rows in the wide corridor.

The Sisters chanted a low, mournful hymn, covering the bodies with ceremonial robes torn from their own vestments before setting them ablaze. In these desperate times, there were no grand cathedrals or soaring choirs to honor the passing of these warriors.

Arthur thought for a moment, then placed his own power sword and shield—clearly relics of great significance—upon an altar built from the fallen warriors' inscribed pauldrons.

"O Emperor, my Lord, I pray Thee, make me an instrument of Thy deliverance," the Canoness began, her voice clear and devout, cutting through the crimson miasma.

"The son fears not death, the son fears not the daemon, for the Emperor comes to receive him."

"Grant him the most righteous path of return, grant him the most glorious path of return."

"Make me the wind that scatters his foes."

Arthur watched the flames, ignited with sacred oils, as they enveloped the warriors' bodies. The initially red fire gradually transformed into a brilliant, dazzling gold, consuming the corpses with a supernatural intensity. The flying embers clung to the flames, forming a liquid river of gold that flowed towards the altar.

The surrounding Sisters, witnessing this miracle, felt the fire of their own faith burn brighter. They lowered their heads to hide the divine light now emanating from their eyes, their chanting growing ever more fervent.

Yep, the Emperor is definitely haunting this place, Arthur thought, having fully expected something like this. He watched as the molten gold fire consumed his sword and shield.

The Warp was not the exclusive domain of the Four. Compared to the conflicting theories about the Emperor's nature within the current Imperium, transmigrators like them had a more complete understanding.

He could absorb the faith of humanity just like the Four. He had a projection in the Warp as vast and mighty as theirs. He possessed a sacred domain as boundless as theirs, known as the Golden Throne.

In the future, after the Great Rift tore the galaxy in two, He could deploy the Legion of the Damned into the material universe as easily as the Four deployed their daemons. In fact, due to humanity's absolute faith in Him, it was far easier for the Emperor to project His power.

Yeah, yeah. If the Emperor says He's not a god, then He's not a god. Whatever He says is right.

Arthur paid his respects to the fallen warriors with silent observation, waiting patiently for the flames to die down. When they did, his sword and shield had been reforged, now coated in a matte, non-reflective black.

"Hmph!"

The Blood God, his attention drawn from the Great Game, noticed the actions of the Anathema's followers. He paid it no mind. He was too angry. A vague sense of having missed out on something important fanned the flames of His already incandescent rage. It was the same feeling He got when one of His favored champions, having received His blessings, chose to go to the Golden Throne instead.

He slammed His fist on the arm of the Brass Throne. The Tower of Skulls trembled, and it began to rain blood across His domain.

In the chaos of the Empyrean, the stakes of the Great Game had been raised once more.

Clink~

Arthur stepped forward and picked up his sword and shield. Their original iconography was now obscured, but they radiated a new, understated magnificence. Within the inscribed pauldrons that formed the altar now lay the sacred ashes of the warriors.

It seems the Emperor has noticed them.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, glad he had made the decision to let the Sisters preside over the rite. In this damnable universe, having one's soul return to the Golden Throne was one of the better possible fates.

Better to have faith in the Emperor than to fall to Chaos.

"My Lord," Canoness Arabella began. "I wish to craft sacred reliquaries for the Angels. The reliquaries will carry their honor back to their brethren."

"...You may." Feeling his tone was a bit blunt, Arthur, still not fully proficient with the language, added, "Thank you."

"...Thank you for granting us this honor, my Lord."

Arabella swore to the Emperor, she had never met an Angel like this one. It wasn't that he was a bad Angel, but... it was deeply unsettling. It was as if a demigod was treating her as a peer, an equal. Not as a polite formality, but as a true equality between souls.

As soon as Arthur gave his permission, the Sisters reverently began to gather the pauldrons containing the ashes. They wrapped the ashes in sacred cloth, then ignited their promethium flamers. The armor fragments melted in the intense heat, the Sisters' hymns rising with the flames. The molten metal was then reshaped and sculpted into silver caskets, each in the distinct style of the Order of the Sacred Rose, before the warrior's original pauldron was inlaid upon it.

"..."

The craftsmanship was exquisite. Arthur didn't fully understand these rituals for the dead, but he respected them. As long as it's not some abstract ceremony involving flaying, making cherubs from vat-grown infant corpses, and bathing in incense, he thought. In his opinion, the methods of the Order of the Sacred Rose had a genuine sense of sanctity. They didn't feel... heretical.

"Does this mean the Emperor is going to shield us?" Romulus asked, having come to his side. He had immediately noticed that Arthur's wargear was now the same color as his own armor.

They were all mentally prepared for the possibility of being noticed by the gods of the Warp. After all, they had landed directly in the Immaterium. They weren't arrogant enough to believe they were the "Chosen Ones," destined to punch out Star Gods and kick the Chaos Four.

If anything, as transmigrators to the Warhammer universe, they were all keenly self-aware. A true Chosen One would never be sent to such a shithole. They were more like the "Children of the Forsaken."

Still, as transmigrators who knew countless secrets, the fact that they had survived this long in the Warp without their knowledge attracting the attention of a Chaos God and turning them into Chaos Spawn was, in itself, a small miracle.

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. He had no idea if the Emperor was aware of their existence. He had simply wanted to add something of substance to the warriors' farewell ceremony. Who knew a simple prayer would get him a new skin for his weapons?

The Emperor really likes giving people black swords.

"Is the Gellar Field stable?" Arthur asked, deciding not to dwell on things he couldn't understand.

"Handled," Romulus said, holding up a dangling object. "It was because of this guy."

Arthur nodded, then felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the corpse of the psyker Romulus was holding. "Are Gellar Field generators really powered by burning people?"

"A Gellar Field is essentially a psychic membrane projected around a ship in the Warp. What else would you burn to power it besides psykers?" Romulus said, casually revealing a secret the T'au Empire had been trying to uncover for centuries. He tossed the corpse to the ground and pointed at its back. On the skin, damaged by a bolter round, the faint outline of an eight-pointed star of Chaos could still be seen.

"The psyker inside the generator was tampered with. He had a pre-loaded summoning ritual on him. That's why the Deathwatch guards were ambushed and wiped out. I also checked the generator's logs—there are complete and audited maintenance records. We've got bad apples in the Administratum and the Departmento Munitorum."

"That's not our concern right now," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes. His instincts told him this entire ship might be embroiled in a much larger conspiracy. "The priority is to get this ship out of the Warp."

Even if they had cleared the enemy from the Gellar Field, the ship's hull was still breached. If they couldn't return to realspace soon, they'd become the next Space Hulk dungeon for future adventurers. Orks, Genestealers, daemons, and mutated Imperial citizens, plus a few Space Marines... they'd certainly give any future boarding party a few surprises.

"Agreed. Our primary objective is survival," Romulus acknowledged. He turned and called out to the Canoness. "Sister Arabella."

"I am here, my Lord."

"My battle-brother and I are returning to the Navigator's Sanctum to ensure this vessel can safely exit the Warp," Romulus said sternly. "Until then, I entrust the defense of the Gellar Field to the Order of the Sacred Rose. The Guard will provide you with assistance."

"We will not fail you, my Lord."

"Our thanks for your trouble."

With a polite expression of gratitude, Romulus turned, and he and Arthur began to head back the way they came.

"..."

(End of Chapter)