139 – Big Bad Daemon
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t fault a girl for having a hobby.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“My problem is that your ‘hobby’ is putting my quest into unnecessary danger by it meaning you are not going about your fights with all the caution they are due,” Trazyn said calmly, not one to rise to anger without due cause.
<span style="font-weight:400">“If you don’t enjoy whatever you do, you’ll live a sad life Trazyn,” I said unrepentantly. “I just so happen to enjoy annoying people who annoy me. Furthermore, I gave the ‘fight’ all the seriousness it deserved, which was about none.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That was a Custodes,” Trazyn provided ever so helpfully, like he was doubting these fleshy orbs I had for visual perception were faulty.
<span style="font-weight:400">“It was,” I allowed, nodding magnanimously. It also didn’t have a chance at doing anything to me once I was in the air. Custodes didn’t fly, though that bounce he did once I left him there came close.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Have I entered the ranks of those you wish to annoy to death?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Not yet.”
<span style="font-weight:400">He let out a static gurgle I took for a gruff grunt.
<span style="font-weight:400">“As long as it doesn’t endanger my quest,” he said after a few more seconds of me dragging his metallic butt through the air. “I can live with your peculiarities.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Thank you.” I nodded at the entric kleptomaniac, willing myself not to let the dozen remarks at the tip of my tongue actually leave it. I liked Trazyn, after all. I could live with him being a bit of a stick in the mud at times.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Where do you want to go?” I asked, changing the topic with the grace of a runaway train. “Or rather, wait till our green friends find their way down here?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Let’s head to the bottom of the stairs,” he said. “That also just happens to be suitably far away from the Custodes you seemed to have just pissed off.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Great idea!” I eximed, turning us in the right direction.
<span style="font-weight:400">*****
<span style="font-weight:400">While my other avatar was extremely busy by staring at rocks and watching magma slumber by, the avatar back on the voidship was actually getting some work done. Zedev got his upgrade, which he greeted with a vague note of ‘adequate’.
<span style="font-weight:400">I rolled my eyes at the memory. The upgraded bits were leagues ahead of the previous one, outfitted with several sub-brains to enhance the cognitive capabilities of his fleshy bits and made to keep itself in the state I’d made it in. Its genes wouldn’t deteriorate, a small cell-factory would slowly work to rece every single bit of his biological bits regrly enough that he’d stop aging entirely, and I even added some general upgrades like greater resistance to fatigue and better eyesight.
<span style="font-weight:400">It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but Zedev didn’t want groundbreaking. He wanted ‘adequate’ and that’s what I gave him. He was still in love with his own prototype eldar-human hybrid thingy, almost as much as with his mechanical parts and with his dear Omnissiah.
<span style="font-weight:400">With that done though, I dumped a sample of the bio-matter my mind-cores came up with for the construction of my eventual base on his table and told him toe up with ways to improve upon it. He looked to be a bit upset at the sample, and a quick glimpse into his mind answered why.
<span style="font-weight:400">In short, he thought I was an idiot. Well, not me, but my mind-cores. He instantly recognised how much finesse I actually had when it came to gene-editing and such and almost burst a blood-vessel in his newly made grey matter at how badly I was apparently utilising it.
<span style="font-weight:400">Oh, well. He seemed to havee to the conclusion that, since I was so inept, he had to give me the right blueprints to make me utilise my capabilities to their limit. He seemed thrilled at the idea of getting to y with a gene-editor of such high quality.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">I’ve been downgraded to a fancy 3d printer in his head. </i><span style="font-weight:400">I was miffed by that thought, but s, he was to be extremely useful if he could actually pull off what he wholeheartedly believed he could. <i><span style="font-weight:400">Toaster-loving pile of scrap that he is, he does know his stuff. My mind-cores can only work off of data and knowledge I have, while he probably has centuries more of both to work with.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">I had to remind myself I was only technically a few months old.
<span style="font-weight:400">Next project!
<span style="font-weight:400">I dumped a bunch of experimental drones down among the Orks. A lot of them got ughtered before my drones went down and they fucking loved every second of it. So I continued dropping new stuff atop their heads asionally from then on to keep them on their toes and, more importantly, to keep them entertained.
<span style="font-weight:400">Why? Because a bored Ork was just as bad as a bored hyperactive husky locked inside a house. Example: The pirs holding up the floors separating my ship were near indestructible for Orks, which they took as a challenge and threw together a mini gargant to tear it apart.
<span style="font-weight:400">Said mini gargant was now beating a whole lot of Orks to mush at the moment, using the torn off pir as a cudgel.
<span style="font-weight:400">Anyway, I repaired the pir and added another asteroid to a nearby system’s outer belt in the form of a spaced mini gargant. I also spent a few hours mind-diving the pair of mek boys who actually built the gargant and realised that their knowledge was still absolutely useless to me.
<span style="font-weight:400">They threw shit together because it ‘felt right’ or whatnot and when I repeated the motions, all I ended up with was a horrendously silly looking bolter replica that I wouldn’t have been able to sell even as a toy gun. It was held together by glue and hope.
<span style="font-weight:400">Which is why I went back to Zedev shortly thereafter.
<span style="font-weight:400">“So, can you do it?” I asked, arms crossed and one foot tapping on the metal floor.
<b>“Affirmative.” </b><span style="font-weight:400">Zedev said, not even ncing at me. <b>“I’ll require the recement of the ‘sub-brain’ in question.”</b>
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s given,” I said. “So?”
<b>“Done.” </b><span style="font-weight:400">He said, and a thin white tendril pierced into the fleshy part of his cranium, not a momentter. I very gently examined the sub-brain in question. Watched the neurons firing and then dove right into it through a thin telepathic link I established after I isted it from the rest of Zedev’s mind.
<span style="font-weight:400">Inside, I found the most boring thing I could have ever imagined. A library, but the most dreary, soul-killing kind with those old metallic drawers from the 80s filled with files. The shelves reached up to the sky and there were thousands of them.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Okay. Fuck this. </i><span style="font-weight:400">I thought after looking at it all for all but a second. <i><span style="font-weight:400">Mind-core unit, this is a job for you. Get to copy-pasting. Don’t hurt the rest of his mind under any circumstances.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">Soon, white spectres appeared around me by the hundreds. They had my vague shape, the contour was the same, but they were all pure white and faintly translucent with robotic movements and a disturbingck of anything that could be called a face.
<span style="font-weight:400">They flickered all over the ce, rifling through thousands of pages of recorded knowledge in a second. Nodding to myself in satisfaction, I pulled my main consciousness back into my avatar.
<span style="font-weight:400">It only took a minute for them to be finished, and I gently disentangled my mind from Zedevs before letting the rest of his mind-reestablish contact with the sub-brain I abused. It only needed a little healing since I’d been careful, but it still suffered maybe a dozen aneurysms and a tiny stroke while I was in there.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Done, healthy as ever,” I said. “Thanks, see you around.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Zedev just waved a hand my way, buzzing lightly as his mind no-doubt reviewed the sub-brain, double- or maybe triple checking it for anything wrong that I might have missed. It was rude, but this was Zedev we were talking about. Rudeness was hisst remaining personality trait besides his obsessions.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Now go through all that and remove all the fluff for me. I don’t give a shit about ‘proper rituals’ and their dogma. Give me the pure knowledge. </i><span style="font-weight:400">I ordered, pushing the priority of that task up to the top. Making a halfway decent biomaterial for my voidships could wait, especially since I was nning to dump that task on Zedev too once he was done with his current one. <i><span style="font-weight:400">And once he does them all, I’ll be able to infer some stuff from the results. He might be better at that than me now, but I’m a quick learner, if nothing else.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">I was cheating in the ‘learning’ department, of course, but everyone that wasn’t cheating somehow in this gxy was deader than Horus. As a smart man once said: Always be cheating.
<span style="font-weight:400">Words to live by, truly.
<span style="font-weight:400">I was humming, hopping back towards my room with Selene to get back to watching over my other avatar when my instincts screamed at me. I was back in the other avatar with my full focus in an instant, leaving ship-avatar to face-nt in the hallway.
<span style="font-weight:400">Looking up, I felt an unconscious shiver run down my spine, which almost made me scoff. My body was still far too human to be having instinctual reactions like this. Primal fear and trembling hands were a bit much, weren’t they? I mean, sure, a big fuckoff tear in reality was forming right above me, bute on. Have some spine, fleshy body of mine.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Thisplicates things,” Trazyn observed, having taken a few steps back to watch the swirling rupture. I wasn’t sure how much his unliving visual sensors could perceive, nor could I infer much. He could have been either unbothered by it because he knew the danger of it and didn’t care, or because all he saw was a mildly trembling gravitational vortex.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That it does,” I murmured, using a smidge of bio-energy to forcefully shut down my panic-stricken body’s natural responses to a <i><span style="font-weight:400">fucking Greater Deamon trying to materialise atop it. </i><span style="font-weight:400">“I don’t think I am paid enough to fight that thing.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You can infer its strength just from the distortion?” Trazyn asked, sounding mildly surprised.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I can see the ugly fuck tearing into the veil from the other side,” I said, a third eye opening up on the middle of my forehead. It was pure white, with neither a pupil nor an iris. “It’s a big one. Whatever’s hiding down here must be pretty important … hmmm, this guy looks a touch familiar.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What grade is it?” Trazyn asked, a hand reaching into his robes and flicking through the tesseracts held there.
<span style="font-weight:400">“It’s a Bloodthirster,” I said, squinting at the thing as it roared and shed forward. A single wed fist tore through the veil and grasped the edge of the forming portal. I took it as my cue to step out from underneath the portal lest I got stomped on by the daemon. “Greater Daemon of Khorne, and a pretty nasty looking one. Hmmmm. Where did I see this guy before? Damn it, why do they all have to look so simr?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“It just so happens that I have something just for this asion,” Trazyn said, clicking his fingers on a tesseract he held up to eye level. “No need for you to exhaust yourself just yet. Their loss will be painful, but they are just the backup for one of my exhibits.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Which one, if I may ask?” I asked, settling in next to the invisible Necron with a thin cloak of concealment of my own forming around me.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I officially call it ‘The First War of Armageddon’,” Trazyn said. “Though, the more apt name would be ‘The Death of Angron’ I believe.”
<span style="font-weight:400">With that said, the tesseract glowed, and I cast a brief nce up at the Smanders streaming down the wall. They were hurrying now, throwing down ropes and starting to grapple down thest stretch of the way as they quickly set up formations and readied weapons.
<span style="font-weight:400">The tesseract glowed onest time, and then the light escaped it, bursting forth towards the ground beneath the portal. Three dozen forms a head higher and significantly bulkier than the Smanders materialised.
<span style="font-weight:400">They wore unique and massive grey power armour, with runes and various runic Wards glowing across their silvery grey their armaments. Confusion onlysted a few seconds, as thergest one of them looked up and stared at the portal for a single second before shouting.
<span style="font-weight:400">“DAEMONIC INCURSION IMBOUND. SET UP THE FORMATION!”
<span style="font-weight:400">The orders continued, and just as the demon’s other hand tore through the veil, a formation was already drawn up on the ground and the bunch were busying themselves by spraying some sort of a holy water on each other.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Grey Knights? </i><span style="font-weight:400">I hummed, tilting my head curiously. There were only a little under thirty of them, and while I didn’t doubt their effectiveness against most daemons, this was a Greater Daemon, and a big one at that. <i><span style="font-weight:400">I guess I’ll take a bite before they are all eventually annihted. It’d be a shame to lose out on Emps’ personal geneseed.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">I didn’t even fully finish that thought in my head when my golden friend crashed onto the edge of the little ind we were on. He took a second to collect himself before he shot off towards the Grey Knights and stopped next to thergest one.
<span style="font-weight:400">It seemed the big guy wasn’tser focused on only finding me. Maybe with his help, the gathered group could actually send the Daemon back into the Warp without much trouble even without our help.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I will provide you some assistance,” said the Custodian. “Afterwards, I will be needing your services for my own mission. Is that agreeable?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yes, honourable custodian,” said therge Grey Knight in a gruff tone. “Might I ask what mission?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Capturing and subduing a Xeno Psycher,” the Custodian said, and I had to roll my eyes. “Alive. His Majesty wants her.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Understood,” the leader of the Grey Knight squad nodded briskly. “After we banish this daemon, we will be at your service.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Maybe I should help the daemon instead,” I mused aloud to Trazyn. My eyes ring into the Custodian’s skull. He twitched, his helmet swinging around, but being unable to find me by the looks of it.
<span style="font-weight:400">He probably could have, if I wasn’t standing hundreds of metres away. Those instincts the golden boys had coded and trained into them were something else.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Mutual annihtion of both sides aside from the Smanders <i><span style="font-weight:400">would </i><span style="font-weight:400">be the optimal oue.” Trazyn nodded, his hands once again flicking through his collection of tesseracts. “We’ll see how the fight goes first, but I agree with assisting the side that would seem to be on the back foot.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You could just give me a few Tyranids and I’d solve that issue for you.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Not yet,” he huffed. “I only have a single tesseract with Tyranids in it and I’d really rather keep it if it''s at all possible. Last resort, as I’d said.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Fine.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“AAAAAAAAAAARGGHHHHH!!!!!” With a mighty roar, the two wed crimson hands tore at the fabric of reality like it was made ofmon cloth. Reality gave way before the might of the daemon, a tremble running through it as smaller fissures formed all around the room and vicious, roaring crimson daemons swarmed out from each. Bloodletters and other daemons of Khorne surged forward, their primal fury driving them on as their eyesnded on the gathered marines and the Custodian. “Tremble little men, tremble at his hate and curse your Corpse God for I, Ka’Bandha havee to im your pathetic skulls!”
<span style="font-weight:400">The gigantic demon stepped through the gaping wound on reality, obsidian horns, blood red skin, thousands of sharp teeth and a pair of eyes filled with malice and hatred. He towered over even the custodian easily, wielding a titanic axe in one hand while the other sent out a ming whip towards the Custodian without further ado.
<span style="font-weight:400">The Custodian stepped aside, then charged, and the Daemonughed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“This might be worth making an exhibit out of.” Trazyn noted, and I couldn’t help but agree. The fight that broke out looked quite epic.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">They are so fucked. </i><span style="font-weight:400">I thought, watching on curiously as Ka’Bandha sent the custodian rolling through the rocky grounds with a simple kick. Only by piercing his guardian spear into the ground did he manage to stop himself from taking an impromptu magma bath. <i><span style="font-weight:400">So that’s where I remembered the daemon from. He was on the first moon of Baal. He was the daemon hellbent on making the sons of Sanguinius suffer at his hand and he was also the daemon who could go toe to toe with the angelic Primarch.</i>
<i><span style="font-weight:400">They are so fucked.</i>