I awoke with a start. Or, rather, my consciousness 'snapped' into being. There was no gentle easing of sleep or lingering drowsiness I would expect from waking up, I simply... became aware.
Not that it meant much, I could neither feel my body nor move it, in any way I could determine, and, as a result, my eyes were still closed. No, that's not quite right. There was a... darkness that I couldn't quite describe, and I couldn't hear anything, either, not even the steady thrum of my own heart in my ears.
Status, I thought pointedly, sending the command to my augmentations to report my condition.
Nothing happened.
Were they damaged or disabled? Under normal conditions, they should give me an overview of any damaged or missing components, as well as a basic rundown of my personal health. Heart rate, blood pressure, and so on, but no matter how many commands I sent to them, they refused to respond.
A side effect of receiving medical attention after void sickness, surely. It didn't seem like something that could happen, but I was no medicae, not beyond battlefield first aid, anyway, so I dismissed the thought and resolved to wait.
And so I did. I couldn't tell how long it had been, not without my implants reporting it, or my senses to tell me how many heartbeats had passed, but I waited. And waited. And waited.
Eventually, I began to 'see' sparks and flashes of color, but I knew them to be hallucinations brought on by the sudden blindness. I didn't think I'd ever experience it for myself, but in my youth, we'd been taught that without actual stimulation, the Human mind would invent visual data to cope with the loss of a major sense, as focused on vision as our brains were. Sudden deafness could do it, too, but usually you'd begin to hear your own heartbeat and breathing as all other distractions fell away.
As if on cue, muffled voices reached my ears. They, too, were hallucinations, I knew, but they helped stave off the boredom, so I focused on them anyway. The sparks were still there, seven of them, one twice as bright as the others, with the swirling colors between and around them, but only the colors shifted at all, and I'd grown tired of watching them.
My confusion only grew as the voices became less muffled, less distant, until I realized I was not hallucinating them at all. There were people in the room with me, how many, though, I could not tell.
I still couldn't feel my own body or see, but I attempted to speak regardless, hoping my body could move and I simply couldn't feel it.
[Medicae?] I tried. Apparently, it worked, as the voices stopped suddenly, before one of them picked back up a few moments later, finally clear enough I could understand what was being said.
"Oh, Stars, it's awake already! What are you gawping at? Finish the binding, now, before it gets its bearings!"
Clearly, these are not my own people. I tried the same tactic with my eyes, hoping to open them without feeling them the same way I'd managed to speak without feeling my tongue, but nothing happened.
Then, a thought occurred to me. If the voices had not been my brain coping with my deafness, then...
I focused on the sparks I had been seeing with everything I had. Some reports and research indicated that invokers could 'see' without seeing, and I had been an invoker, one of the greatest across the worlds.
Slowly, my 'vision' became clearer and clearer, faster than my hearing had, but still slower than I would like, until I could just barely make out shapes and edges, and the colors swirling along the floor exploded into sharp relief.
Those colors were three concentric rings, each filled with symbols I did not recognize, much less surmise what they did, but something in me recoiled at the sight of them, some instinct buried deep in my otherwise unfeeling gut.
Whatever they would do when their invocation finished, I would not enjoy the result.
[I am a Legate of the Terran Imperium!] I shouted with my still-numb lips. [You will release me, now, or suffer the consequences.]
But no matter how I struggled, I still could not move. I must also be bound somehow, strapped to something. Not that it would matter if I weren't; without being able to feel or see where my limbs were, I would never be able to fight my way out. I would be lucky if I didn't immediately trip and dash my skull against the floor of... wherever we were.
Some of the shapes stopped, wincing at my voice and demands. I was a military officer, after all; I knew how to intimidate and command, through training and many, many years of experience.
"Damn you. Quickly, you idiots! Don't let its threats distract you!" The voice was... gravelly, but androgynous in its volume and tone. My vision even clearer now, I could tell the voice belonged to the brightest of the sparks, and focused my attention on it until it seemed to shrink from my 'gaze' slightly. Just... a little more, and I might be able to see the face of whoever it was that kept me here.
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Then, all at once, just as the invocation began anew, a door at the back of the room, that I could only vaguely make out, flew from its hinges, carrying chunks of whatever the wall was made from with it. Splinters of something from the door, wood or metal, exploded from the main structure and peppered the invokers before me in shards of itself and the wall, causing some to cry out in surprise, and one in pain, as the door itself smashed into them.
A figure entered my limited field of view from the doorway, armored, I thought, in some kind of heavy plate, but not a design I recognized from its hazy silhouette.
And there's the rescue sq-
My thoughts were interrupted by the brightest of the sparks swearing at the newcomer.
"Stars-cursed witch-hunters," the invoker growled, enraged. Without another word, the outline of their hand darted towards... something at their waist, a satchel or pouch, and produced... I wasn't sure, but it was bright, brighter than the invokers themselves, and the ritual circles on what I assumed was the ground.
Witch... hunter? I did not know of any group, fringe or otherwise, that called the Inquisition that, and I should know, I was head of that very organization. There weren't very many non-Terran Humans in the galaxy, either, but the silhouettes I could make out were all humanoid, at least, and I understood every word. What else could they be but Human? There weren't any other humanoid species in the galaxy as far as the Imperium was aware, and even if there were, they certainly wouldn't be speaking Terran.
Distracted by my own thoughts, I almost missed the first 'witch-hunter' dash forward, drawing a weapon, but it was too late. The brightest invoker pulse once, twice, and disappeared entirely, leaving a yawning void in my 'sight' in their place.
The 'witch-hunter' swore under their breath, and spat at the spot the invoker had been standing before turning on the nearest less bright invoker and running them through with their weapon, a sword of some kind, by the silhouette. Other 'witch-hunters' flooded into the room, and went about their grisly business, cutting each of the invokers down with ruthless, practiced efficiency before they could turn their invocations on the invaders.
I mentally whistled at the sight. Not as good as my personal marines, but still. They would not be out of place in any force of the Imperium.
Finally, having caught the invokers by surprise and cut them down in just a few short seconds, the witch-hunters relaxed, and stowed their weapons. It was strange they'd all used melee weapons, but I supposed it wasn't that strange; the room was small, and a ricochet could easily be deadly. Still, should they not have at least sidearms on them, as well?
Then, I realized, that the witch-hunters had ignored me entirely, and made no move to pull me from where I was bound. In fact, though I couldn't see their eyes, none of them even seemed to look in my direction.
[Pardon me, but can someone explain what the fuck is happening?] I heard someone snarl, and recognized my own voice halfway through.
The effect was immediate; weapons appeared in their hands and they whirled around, looking for the source of my voice, and... yet, they still did not look at me. Not at first.
After a few seconds of growing tension and confusion, the first 'witch-hunter' seemed to realize something, and turned towards me. They struggled for words, at first, but eventually-
"I don't suppose you're the one that just spoke," he - yes, he, I was sure now, by his voice - said softly, almost gently.
[Yes, yes, it was me, thank you. Do you mind telling me where I am and what's going on? Last thing I knew, I was on my ship, and now I am here, largely blind, and I cannot feel or move my limbs,] I replied. I knew I should have been more grateful towards my rescuers, even if they somehow hadn't noticed me before, but it had been quite awhile since I'd been caught this off guard by something.
The man sighed heavily, as his shoulders sagged, face towards downward. "They managed it. They actually managed it," he said, voice small, and tired.
[Managed what? What is happening?] The others with him shifted uncomfortably, casting glances around the room at each other, weapons still in hand.
Instead of answering immediately, he rubbed his face, and took a deep breath before looking at me again. "I'm sorry to tell you this, stranger, but your soul has been used as a catalyst during a ritual to create a Core."
Wha- what the- [What the fuck are you talking about, soldier?] Something was wrong, very wrong, and my patience was wearing thin.
His demeanor changed instantly, back straightening and shoulders squaring as he sheathed his weapon. "Simply put, you are no longer what you were before. You have no heart or lungs. Your soul inhabits a large crystal a forearms length in height, and a palms breadth wide. If you couldn't use magic before, you can now. Before today, this was an inconceivable event, so... It is functionally impossible to reverse the process, and send you to the afterlife or your body," he spoke quickly and clearly, voice tinged with regret.
I fell quiet, processing the information. It felt like hours to me, but I hadn't seen his chest or shoulders rise to take a breath, so it could have only been a minute, at most. [I understand. What now?]
He was silent for a moment before speaking. "I am not entirely sure. Normally, we would destroy a Core as soon as we found it, or remove it and turn it into a golem or living fortress, but... You are a person. This changes things."
[I see. So, what will need to happen for a decision to be made?]
"I will have to report to the Archmagus, the First, and the Queen."
Archmagus? The First? [Well, those sound like terribly important people. Though... If this was thought impossible, I'm sure it will be done within a few days of them hearing of this.]
He did not respond this time, simply looking at me. I couldn't see his expression, not with my 'vision' blurred and fogged like it was, but I knew he was trying to decide something, so I kept quiet awhile myself.
[What's your name?] The question was simple, but necessary. If I could establish a rapport, make him see me as someone who deserved to live... Well, I couldn't tell how much influence this man had, but it couldn't hurt to wager on him. If nothing else, he could likely include his opinion in his report.
"Captain Markus, Witch Hunter Brigade," he finally said with a sigh, and gestured over his shoulder to the others, who sheathed their weapons, and slowly filed out of the room, taking that as their cue to leave.
[Well met, Captain Markus, I am...] I trailed off, reaching for my name, but no matter how hard I sought it, it wouldn't come. In fact, I couldn't remember any names, not even those of my closest friends. [I... I cannot remember. I...]
He grunted, a pained and stressed sound, interrupting my spiral. "Aye, that can happen, and often leads to worse, especially with... this," he finished simply, gesturing to the sparks that I knew were once living things scattered about the ritual array.
The room was quiet for a long while after that, the blood slowly drying, as the implications of everything that had happened sank into the two of us.