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CHAPTER 9 PSYKANA ACTIVA

From the lore material I knew, psykers in this universe can easily distinguish their kin apart from the mundane masses with their psychic senses. Arradus had made it plain with his actions that I did not register as a psyker to his senses.

Unfortunately, that could not explain my abilities nor my success in communicating with him via psychic means. It had spooked him so much he was prepared to shoot me with his laspistol. Being a civilian all my life I was at a loss of what to do in this tense situation.

Just as things were about to turn from bad to worse, Niandra appeared out of nowhere and took control of the situation. The imperial assassin disarmed Arradus in the blink of an eye and sat him down back on his dining chair, her frigid face had the slightest hint of exasperation as she was eyeing me the whole time while performing the incredible feat with a flawless motion. I could read her mind without even trying. In modern layman terms, it would be the equivalent of asking “What the hell are you doing? You newb!”.

‘Master Rein.’ Niandra calmly addressed the distraught astropath, ‘do not be alarmed, I can assure you Syrine is not an enemy of the Throne.’ After hearing those words Arradus took his senses off me and turned to Niandra to validate how much he can trust her on that statement. It was at this moment someone opened the main door.

A squad of stormtroopers stepped in, a grizzled man leading at the front as the sound of their military boots echoed in the living quarter. The squad’s outfit and wardrobe was a match from the old kasrkin box when one used to be able to get a squad of ten metal miniatures in the package, carapace armour drabbed over body glove and hot-shot lasguns at the ready.

The sergeant was a man who had the look of special forces written all over him, his squarish jaw and the way he walked simply screamed elite militarism. Repeating one of the biggest cliches of the grimdark universe, the man was the only one in the squad who was not wearing a helmet.

‘Is everything all right?’ the sergeant asked, his tone of voice firm and respectful but unwavering. He was the only one who was not holding a weapon though his right hand hovered just above the hot-shot laspistol holstered on his belt, the rest of the stormtroopers fanned out behind him in well trained tactical spacing.

‘Master Rein, please explain the misunderstanding,’ Niandra said while stepping back from the astropath in her attempt to de-escalate the situation. Though from my understanding of her capabilities, a distance of a few meters might as well be face to face contact for the imperial assassin. Arradus started talking with the sergeant but my mind was fast drifting with the latest revelation.

How was it possible I didn't register as a psyker from the astropath’s point of view? All the abilities I used seemed psychic in nature. Dumbfounded, I raised my left palm and looked into it and found I couldn't help myself from marvelling at the flawless porcelain skin. Just as I was thinking of what I won’t do to get a girlfriend with such fine skin in my previous life, an idea crept into my head... wait, can I analyse myself?

The sudden realisation of such a potential struck me like lightning, with a staggering mind, I used [Analytica] on myself. The world seemed to freeze for a while before words started forming in my vision.

Name: Syrine, primarch minoris, psyker-passive, abnormal existence.

Looking at the words and their implication I felt like my body wanted to tremble, except it could not. As if rejecting an order from a lower authority this body refused to convulse. The sensation of such incongruity triggered my instinct to vomit but again, the action did not happen.

Primarch minoris!?

My mind went wild on that revelation. The primarchs were genetically engineered transhuman "sons" of the Emperor of Mankind, they are a huge part of the lore of the grimdark universe. 20 were known to be created, these beings were intended to be the immortal and superhuman generals who commanded the space marine legions for Emperor’s Great Crusade to reunite the scattered Human race beneath his leadership.

A memory surfaced into my mind as I struggled to organise my thoughts, it was from that shocking moment when sister Alicya suddenly knelt in front of me, ‘You must be the prophesied true daughter of the Emperor that He on Holy Terra has sent to lead us...’ the palatine had said, so Syrine was really a true bonafide daughter of the fricking Emperor level of existence?

But there was never any mention of any primarch minoris in the lore I knew, let alone a female primarch who was normal human size in stature. Since most primarchs were basically super-transhuman beings towering over the “normal” transhuman space marines averaging seven feet in height, that would render her looking like a doll in front of her brothers.

Recalling all the information I had on the subject matter, the only loyalist primarch that was still alive, active and kicking at the end of the 41st millennium in the grimdark universe was none other than Roboute Guilliman of the Ultramarines, affectionately known in my gaming circle with funny nicknames such as Girly Man or Ultra Papa Smurf, the latter being a reference of his legion heraldry colour being an unfortunate match with a bunch of tiny blue creatures from a happier universe.

Guilliman himself had actually been kept in a stasis field for 10,000 years after being fatally wounded in a battle and was recently resurrected to continue the plot, but that was a long story too convoluted to be told here.

That said, having faced Guilliman himself multiple times on the tabletop game myself one thing was very obvious to me, written clearly on the primarch’s datasheet was “MONSTER”. That would indirectly mean whatever this primarch minoris status entailed, I might not even come close to being a human despite this ideal female appearance on the outside.

If this world was indeed the same grimdark universe that I knew well, it would be an understatement to say I was in a whole world of dire troubles. Syrine’s status as a primarch minoris should be an imperial state secret of the highest order and any wrong move going forward might seal my own worse than death scenario that comes in thousands of different flavours available here.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The world seemed to spin as I pondered on my predicament and my vision rested upon the second line of my enquiry result: psyker-passive. As if answering my unspoken question, a new line of words popped up into my vision.

[Activate Psykana Activa? YES / NO]

With my limited knowledge of Latin, this seemed to roughly translate to active psyker mode. What would happen if I went active? What about the perils of the warp? A part of me wanted to recoil just by thinking what could go wrong but… I was really curious and since all my abilities activation thus far seemed to serve me well I guess there was only one way to find out.

It was then I noticed the stormtroopers finally left, it seemed like Arradus got that matter sorted. No time better than now, this is still a dream, right? I held my breath and selected yes from the prompt.

At first, nothing happened. Then, the surroundings went weird like some hidden locks were switched off and an unworldly quality took over. I felt my senses grow and my… “feel of view” for the lack of proper words extended. It felt paradoxical like being very trippy while maintaining your mental clarity at the same time, the sense of connection to the world kept expanding and a feeling of many unseen windows were opened beyond the senses. My mind struggled with these new sensations and there then I realised there was this strong resonance nearby, so very close.

Like a submarine that just turned on its active sonar and received a huge ping reading, I turned to the source of resonance and saw it was Arradus. He was facing me with his jaw dropped. The astropath’s existence took on an extra-dimensional quality from my current point of view, rendering him more “real” than the surroundings, and I could easily pinpoint his exact position even with my eyes closed. So this is how psykers could tell each other apart, there is no hiding from this.

Indescribable energy swirled around and inside me, it was gaining strength and seemed to obey my will, at least for now. Mindful of all the horror stories about the warp, I tried my best to keep it under tight control. When I finally got it stabilised, Arradus was still in his stupor gaping at me. ‘That light…’ he murmured.

‘Light?’ I asked. No reply.

Was he looking at me or behind me? While I understood Arradus was technically blind I now knew his psychic sense more than made up for his sight so I turned around and saw what he meant. Even when visually blocked by many layers of walls a huge psychic beam could be “seen” shining from beyond the horizon shooting into the heavens, its psychic brightness transcending the material plane when one was psychically attuned.

The huge silvery golden beam was so beautiful and for some unknown reasons felt familiar. Wait, is that the massive activated psychic beacon they were all talking about? Instinctively I raised my hand trying to touch and feel it, but that was silly since it was so, so far away. Just as I was about to laugh at my own silliness I felt an odd sensation of a connection established with the psychic light.

Huh? Not knowing what just happened and with my hand still raised, I slowly turned my palm. Responding to my action, the massive pillar of psychic light actually changed its intensity.

Oi oi oi this is bad right? What have I done?

Panicking, I adjusted the pillar of light back to its original intensity as best I could and tried to sever the weird connection. Luckily it seemed like mental intent was all it took to get things to work with the psychic stuff, I felt the connection disappeared.

I… I hope no one saw that. Wait, Arradus is here. Crap.

Not knowing what to do, I turned to face the astropath. Only to see him on his knees calling to the Emperor and apologising to me in a semi-coherent flurry of speech. Dumbfounded again, I stood still as Arradus pressed his forehead down touching the floor, with tears flowing down cheeks as he begged for forgiveness in his whimpering voice.

Eagerly wanting to avoid the stormtroopers barging in again I turned to Niandra for help, the assassin was there looking at me with a complex expression but she got the hint. She moved in and put her hand on his back.

‘Master Rein. No one is going to hurt you as long as I am here. As I said, Syrine is not an enemy nor will she do anything to you.’ Her cold, authoritative voice and powerful presence did the trick and Arradus calmed down a lot after that.

Maybe my psychic active mode has something to do with his hysteria? Thinking about that I tried deactivating [Psykana Activa], the power responded to my will and shut itself off. The world went back to normal, which was a huge relief.

Looking at the sheer absurdity surrounding me, suddenly I had an epiphany. That was it! Though very rare, this must be one of the extended lucid dream sessions I had read before on the internet. Thinking back, ever since I started role-playing as Syrine, I never had any food nor drinks and had never gone to the toilet. Dream theory confirmed! Now that this was understood, I just had to let this session run its course and get back to my life.

Finally feeling relieved, I knelt to face the weeping astropath at eye level. While he did look kind of pathetic, thinking back on my own experience so far, if it was not for [Regalis] I might have embarrassed myself with openly screaming and weeping a few times just today alone.

So, I did my best to join Niandra in comforting him, a good thing my current voice was so calm and soothing. ‘Arradus, please. To tell you the truth, I recently just lost most of my memories and need your help. This planet and its people need your help too. Let’s work together.’ He stopped weeping but remained silent.

Does he still need an extra push for encouragement? He was calling to the Emperor, right? Sigh, people of this world. I lamented internally and pushed forth with my final sales pitch. ‘Come on, astropath, if not for this world, for the Emperor.’

‘Yes.’ He finally responded by turning to me, suddenly the frail astropath seemed invigorated with a new lease of purpose and he said his next statement with a calm conviction.

‘For the Emperor.’