Chapter Text
Day 0, 18:47:09
Orbital Cannon Array Charybdis-1B rest on it’s own little hill of buildings, connected to the main hive city of Scheria by a long, regal bridge, flanked by statutes on both sides - a bridge that was currently heavily defended by a large front of genestealer cultists and Tyranid warriors. On the other side was Iolaus’ kill-team, alongside the Lernaean 8th, who were exchanging las-fire with deathspitter bolts. They were making a heavy push and the genestealers were quickly finding themselves losing their rank and file units hand over foot.
While the company behind them were levying suppressing fire, the kill-team charged forward to take out stronger monsters and crush the genestealer’s morale. Their leader, a three-armed primus, was riding atop a biovore and commanding the cultic PDF troops. A surge of hormagaunts charged forth and were met with a tidal wave of fire from Nessus’ flamer. Augeas and Phylas ducked through the wall of flames, stomping on the charred remains of the hormagaunts as they held their chainswords high and tore apart the warriors that were blocking their way. Through the spray of xeno blood and chopped off organic weaponry, Iolaus charged in, power sword and shield at hand as he sliced any attacking hormagaunts in half, the way a knife slices through warm butter.
A group of aberrants stood as bodyguards for the genestealer commander and began lumbering towards Iolaus as soon as he got close. He raised his shield and blocked the multiple hulking fists coming his way. He found himself getting physically pushed back by the wave of fists - he tried to find an opening to swing his sword but couldn’t see a way to lower his shield without getting brutalized. Suddenly, one of the aberrants was doused with flames and began frantically trying to put it out before several bolter slugs sent him to the ground. Nessus was behind him, setting the rest of the mutants on fire as Phylas supported him with his bolter. This gave Iolaus the leverage to push the horde back, letting him thrust his sword into one of their stomachs as he was riddled with bullets. He pulled his sword out and swung to his left, sending the head of another burning aberrant flying. The primus cursed angrily at them as he hoisted his las-rifle and sprayed wildly. Iolaus blocked most of the bolts with his shield as Phylas attempted to suppress fire with his boltgun.
“Frag grenade!” Augeas yelled as he tossed a grenade. It arced over the hordes of xenos and bounced off the cobblestone floor, rolling underneath the biovore. It detonated, causing a cloud of dust and stone shards to fly everywhere. It only caused the biovore to jump a few feet in the air, but the detonation had clearly damaged multiple organs internally - it was slumped over, bleeding from various orifices. Phylas seized the opportunity to rush forward, plunging his chainsword into the chittering maw of the biovore and revving it. The blades roared as he slowly pushed forward, cleaving its head into two messy parts. Iolaus rushed in as well, climbing over the monster and tackling the cult leader with his shield. The primus fell several feet onto his back, causing him to screech in pain. Iolaus hopped off the carcass of the biovore and landed on top of him, raising his sword for a clean strike to the head, halting only when the primus started to laugh.
“It’s futile!” he yelled, as his hand pulled out a rod with a button on top, “you will die for our god like the rest of the cattle!” Iolaus only had a few seconds to scan the situation before realizing that he had strapped explosives to his torso underneath his heavy cloak.
“Get away! Now! He’s armed with-!” Iolaus shouted to his team before he was interrupted by the click of a detonator.
He only had a second to protect himself with his shield before the body detonated. It was a tremendous explosion, big enough to collapse a section of the bridge. Iolaus was dazed; he felt weightless, but he tried to keep a grip on his faculties as he slowly realized he was flying through the air. He fell several hundred feet into the valley of buildings between the main city and the orbital cannon. He braced himself as he collided with the tiled roof of a chapel, bursting through like it was cardboard. All several hundred pounds of himself collapsed through several poorly maintained stone floors and rotting wooden beams before he finally collided with a solid surface. He laid awkwardly on his power pack, splayed out and dazed from the fall. His entire body hurt and he was certain he had a few broken bones and ruptured organs, but he stuck desperately to consciousness. He cannot pass out, not yet, not here either. Right now all he could hear was the tinnitus in his ears and the sloshing of liquid around him, as if he fell in a pool. His vox suddenly began screeching to life.
“Sergeant!” Nessus yelled, “Sergeant! We saw you fly off the bridge! Are you still alive?”
Iolaus began to speak but was forced to give out a hacking, prolonged cough before he could answer, “Yes, Nessus,” he said between coughs, “by the Emperor’s grace, I managed to survive - injured, but alive.”
“Praise be!” Augeas yelled through his vox, “The Emperor surely lended you his divine protection!” Iolaus coughed again, he could feel something wet on his lips. It was probably blood.
“I should’ve ended that primus when I had the chance,” he sputtered, “I faltered.”
“What’s done is done, Sergeant,” Nessus said, “At the very least we’re still alive. Phylas has sustained a few injuries but he seems to be powering through.”
“Filthy, wretched mutant!” Phylas chimed in, his vox getting blown out by the sound of constant bolter shots, “To even attempt such an underhanded tactic, there is no depth that they will not sink to! On my honor, I will make certain the debt is repaid a thousand fold!” Iolaus coughed again. He’s often a little irritated with his emphatic hatred of xenos but in this circumstance he can tolerate it if it meant those genestealers got what was coming to them.
“How are things looking up there?” Iolaus asked.
“The xenos are routing but the bridge has been taken out, we’ll have to repair it,” Nessus replied, “They’re firing from the other side of the gap, but we’ve taken minimal casualties from the explosion and morale is still high. At the moment we’re returning fire.”
Iolaus gave out a sigh of relief, at least the mission is still going relatively smoothly, “Augeas, Phylas, continue assisting the Lernaean 8th and make sure you’ve cleared that cannon of xenos.”
“With great fervor, Sergeant!” Phylas yelled.
“Talos, are you there?” Iolaus continued.
“Listening,” Talos crackled in.
“Search through the archives and send Nessus and I a map of this section. Nessus, I’ll need your assistance, you should already have a bead on my location.”
Nessus voxed in, “I am procuring a jump pack as we speak, Sergeant. I will meet you down there as soon as possible. Emperor protect you.”
Iolaus grunted as he attempted to stand up. A sharp pain immediately surged through his torso; he’s certain large parts of his ribcage are fractured now, if not outright shattered. It’s likely some bone fragments penetrated his internal organs as well, definitely his lungs as he’s finding it hard to catch his breath. It didn’t matter - he cannot remain here wheezing in pain, so there was no other choice but to just bear with it. He examined his equipment; he still had a tight grip onto his power sword even as he fell, he was fortunate he managed to hold onto it at all. His shield fared far less better, the explosion had turned it into a twisted scrap of metal. He reached for his holster. His bolter was still there, that will have to do for now. He turned on the light on his helmet and scanned his surroundings.
He was in a cistern filled with blood up to his foot. He was dumbfounded - he knew he landed in some sort of liquid but he assumed it was just water, or at worst, sewerage, but this is completely out of the blue.
“Talos, are you receiving my visual feed?” Iolaus asked.
“Affirmative,” Talos replied, “this is highly unusual.”
Iolaus would chuckle if it didn’t put him through a great deal of pain, “To put it mildly, I suppose. Can you think of any explanation for this?”
“Cogitating: only one idea comes to mind,” Talos answered. Iolaus already knows the answer. He’s praying to the Emperor that there’s another explanation for this, because he can’t handle this on top of what’s already going on in the system. He turned his head to a nearby wall of the cistern - on it, illuminated by his flickering light and painted in blood, is a skull rune, along with several hacked apart corpses lining the walls.
“Khorn worshippers…” Iolaus muttered in disbelief, ”What on Terra is going on in this Emperor-forsaken system?”
“It would certainly explain the chaotic state of affairs,” Talos mused, “Exercise extreme caution, Sergeant. You are in no condition to fight.”
A distant roar caused Iolaus to flick his head behind him. The echoing of the cistern made it near impossible to discern where the roar was coming from, but it was certainly getting closer and louder. He drew his bolter and had his sword at the ready when loud, thumping footsteps became audible.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a choice,” Iolaus said.
Suddenly the brick wall behind him burst forward, and out came stumbling a profusely bleeding abominant. On top of him were several people in ripped apart rags, all covered in blood and hacking him to bits with axes and knives. The walls of the cistern echo with the wails of the mutant and the chants of “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” Iolaus took a few cautious steps backwards, not wanting to engage but his weapons raised just in case. The monster thrashed and wailed before it reached behind its back to grab one of the bloodthirsty cultists. It roared as he slammed him into the ground hard enough to explode in gore, and hard enough to crater the brick floor beneath him. A large groaning sound filled the cistern before the bricks beneath them began to sag. Blood whirlpooled underneath the abominant’s feet and soon enough the entire floor beneath him collapsed. Iolaus fell backwards and attempted to crawl away but he too was swept under the current and eventually slipped into the hole.
Beneath was a mountain of bodies, all mutilated or chopped to bits, all presumably the poorer inhabitants of the hive city that failed to escape the cult’s grasp. Iolaus and the mutant fell on top of this pile and tumbled down to its base. The sergeant groaned in pain but forced himself to get up. The abominant was still thrashing about, trying to get the cultists off itself. Iolaus raised his bolter and fired round after round into it until the monster finally stopped moving. The cultists, seeking fresh prey, began scrambling to Iolaus. He fired off his bolter again - one shot turned a woman’s head into mist, the other severed the leg of a man. The last cultist reached him but was swiftly cut in half by his power sword. The man who lost his leg kept doggedly crawling after him, chanting “SKULLS FOR THE SK-” before Iolaus crushed his head underneath his boot.
“Emperor give me strength,” Iolaus muttered as he voxed to his comrade, “Nessus, are you there? What’s your status?”
Nothing but static rang from his vox.
“Nessus, come in. Nessus,” Iolaus repeated. More static, “Augeas. Phylas. Talos. Come in, anyone.” Static.
He sighed again in frustration - the tumble must’ve damaged his vox communicator. He thought back to that lieutenant who tried to joke about how things couldn’t possibly get worse. He swore to protect humanity but right now all he wanted to do was put a bullet through that man’s head. It hasn’t even been a full day and things only got worse and worse. He never could’ve foreseen himself at the bottom of a stinking pit, surrounded by corpses and covered in blood, alone, without communication, trying to fight through the pain of having a shattered ribcage, all while having to deal with Tyranids, genestealers, Necrons, orks, and now a Khorn infestation.
Another loud, guttural howl rang out, this time sounding much different than the abominant from before. Galloping from the darkness of a long hallway was a writhing mass of mutated flesh, leaping forward with one distended, spiked arm while the squirming tentacle that is his other army flailed wildly. It was a chaos spawn, and Iolaus growled in frustration as he raised his bolter and emptied his magazine into the warped beast. It seemed to do little to deter it as it struck its tentacle at the sergeant and whipped the bolter out of his hands. He cursed as he raised his sword to guard before the beast began charging at him with enough strength to lift him from the ground. He was pushed into a brick wall before he burst through it, and the one behind that as well as the chaos spawn wailed and charged without stopping. Iolaus yelled as he raised his sword and plunged it into the monster, stabbing it over and over again until the beast screeched in pain and tossed him away. He landed on his back, pain shockwaving all over his body as the chaos spawn clambered over him and began wailing at him with his tentacled arm. He plunged the sword in his sword and gripped it tight as he tried desperately to pull the sword towards him. The monster screeched as the sword finally cut through, ripping his midsection in half as it’s wretched guts spilled all over him before the beast finally collapsed on top of him
Iolaus just laid there, panting both from exhaustion and the great amount of pain he’s experiencing. He grunted in exertion as he pushed the beast off him and staggered to his feet. He coughed and hacked before yelling in anger.
“IS THIS YOUR WORST?” Iolaus yelled, as he started stomping on the dead chaos spawn hard enough to elicit the sounds of cracking bones, “SHOW ME HOW BAD THIS DAY CAN GET! COME ON, I HAVEN’T SUFFERED ENOUGH YET, YOU FUCKING WRETCH!”
A sudden pulse from the end of the hallway took Iolaus out of his mindless rage. He let out a shaky, tired sigh and steeled himself because he had a gut feeling nothing good was at the end of this hallway. He slowly stomped his way toward the glowing blue light, and as he rounded a corner, he saw a brick room with a giant, swirling mass of teal energy that had consumed the end of the room
In front were two figures; one was a giant man in thick red power armor - a World Eater in terminator armor. His helmet was covered in large, gnarled tusks and horns, and the top of his suit had several pikes on which multiple skulls were skewered on it. One horn in particular burst forth from his left eye like a gnarled root. In one arm he wielded a heavily bloodstained axe, and the other was a warped mess of dark red flesh that ended in a large, claw hand. He was kneeling over a genestealer primus, using that hand to bash his skull into the ground over and over again.
The other was a tall woman covered in flowing blue and purple robes and golden talismans, though it was hard to discern her features as space seemed to shimmer around her. In place of hair, she had a thick mass of iridescent feathers that sprouted all the way to the sides of her face and the underside of her chin. On her back were two gigantic wings that hugged her sides, covered in the same technicolor feathers as her hair. In her taloned, bird-like hands he held a large, flaming staff in one hand and a floating, leatherbound book in the other. She was staring at Iolaus with piercing yellow eyes. She let out a grin, showing off her sharp, pointed teeth.
“Well!” she spoke, her voice somehow echoing off of nothing, “our self-invited guest has finally arrived. I hope my little pet didn’t give you too much trouble, hm?”
The World Eater stopped his bashing as he looked up at the sergeant, “I did not think you would survive this far,” he growled in a deep inhuman tone, “Were you not in such a weakened state, I would have relished taking your skull.”
“You’re… daemons?” Iolaus panted between pained breaths. He clutched his sword tight but he knew he had no chance against them.
“Oh, you flatter us so!” the woman cocked her head to an unnatural degree as she let out a chittering little giggle, “Not yet, but soon. We have wonderful things in store for our masters.”
“An all-consuming war so great it will tear your decrepit little Imperium to shreds,” the World Eater growled. “We’ve already sacrificed so many of your people to the Taker of Skulls for his blessing. When it came to the slaughter of your poor and destitute, your pathetic nobility would happily turn a blind eye..”
“Of course, he still needed help putting the pawns in their right places,” she chittered again as she produced several rusted screws from her hands, “And to think; all it can take to change the fate of a system is a broken ventilation shaft.” Iolaus felt a rage building inside him; all of this, this chaotic bloody mess was THEIR fault.
“Who are you?” Iolaus demanded.
“I am Polyphemus, slayer of a hundred thousand souls, goremaster upon goremasters!” the World Eater shouted, raising his arms up high.
The woman simply sighed, “Polyphemus, some secrets aren’t for telling! Oh, very well, I might as well share, too. I am Celaeno, sorceress of the great Tzeentch. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant.”
“You think you can just tell me all this and I’ll simply stand there and watch?” Iolaus yelled as he raised his sword, “The Emperor will rain his fury upon you. Even if it kills me, I will see you two dead here and now.”
“No,” Polyphemus said, “you will leave here alive. When I kill you, it will be at your very strongest. Khorne wills it.”
Celaeno just cackled, “That corpse you call a God-Emperor will do nothing! Things have already been set in motion - you cannot even see the true scope of Tzeentch’s plan.”
A wayward bolter slug struck the pauldron of Polyphemus, which simply ricocheted off without so much as startling him. Nessus stomped down the hallway with a bolter in hand.
“Sergeant!” he yelled.
“I believe that’s our cue to leave, Polyphemus,” Celaeno said as she stepped towards the warp portal, “I hope we meet again, Iolaus.” She cackled as her and Polyphemus walked into the maelstrom of teal fire. In a flash of light the portal closed, and all that was left was a bloodsoaked brick room. Iolaus collapsed onto his knees. He felt faint, and he wasn’t sure if it was from blood loss or from the revelation he experienced. He assumed both.
“Sergeant!” Nessus yelled again as he rushed towards him, “I’m here at last. Who were they?”
Iolaus began wobbling backwards and Nessus had to catch him. He let out a wet, hacking cough. His mouth felt like it was filling up with blood.
“They’re the ones who started this,” Iolaus sputtered, “Emperor protect us, things are only going to get worse.”
That was the last thing he said before he passed out.