‘Amnesia from injury!?’
Maylin exclaimed her outrage, raw emotions of surprise and shock boiling over from her loud mind. Not even a few minutes into our first meeting and the new Adeptus Ministorum representative was already showing herself to be an unorthodox candidate.
‘By the Throne, is that true, sister?’ Breaking what I suspected to be standard etiquette, the young preacher stood up and directly eyed Welminah while demanding validation of my condition.
‘Yes, that much is true.’ The scholar replied reluctantly with her eyes downcast. I sensed Welminah’s mind leaking sentiments of guilt and shame for the Sororitas’ apparent shortcomings. In truth it was not their fault, the sisters were taking one for me to conceal my great secret, one that I could never share with anyone.
As for me, I was keeping my mouth shut. The less I talked the less holes there would be in our story. As far as the matter was concerned, Maylin as the representative of the Church was on a need to know basis and we did not even tell her my supposed memory loss was from a previous “injury”.
Maylin turned to me, her expression a mix of pity and mortification. Then she slowly walked towards me - which should be another breach of etiquette - before reaching out to grab onto my hands. Now this was definitely a breach of etiquette as I noticed Herlindya raising an eyebrow.
‘This will not stand! I will notify the Church and we will find the best treatment to rectify this!’ Maylin proclaimed, emotions of righteous protectiveness pouring out like an erupted volcano. In her eyes I had become a victim of tragic circumstances.
‘We have sought the best treatment available and there have been improvements to her condition.’ Welminah replied defensively.
‘But Lady Syrine still has not regained her memories, right? I want, nay, I demand a detailed report on how it all happened. If it was due to the negligence of the Adepta, I will petition to move the saint candidate into our care due to incompetence on your side!’ Maylin released my hands to point an accusatory finger at Welminah.
That statement hit a spot and the two of them soon got into a heated argument. I watched helplessly from the sidelines as the verbal warfare escalated, then Herlindya who was reading her data-slate leaned over and whispered, ‘the test candidates have arrived, Palatine Alicya is handling the transfer.’
Just in time! I looked at the quarrelling ladies and decided it was better to just get on with my plans for today. ‘Thank you. Let’s go.’ I said and stood up, surprising the spatting pair.
‘My lady, where are you going?’ Welminah asked.
‘To test if my theory could work to save some people. The test candidates we mentioned before have arrived.’ I answered.
‘But your condition…’ Maylin stammered but was unable to complete her sentence. I looked at the astonished preacher and suddenly thought of a cool response. I smiled and said, ‘while I may have lost most of my memories, I have not forgotten my duties.’
* * *
On that fateful day, Trooper Ignatham’s worldview collapsed on the battlefield.
The trooper first saw the supposed invincibility of the mighty Northern Grand Army he belonged to getting totally humiliated, then after a day of twists and turns he witnessed Supreme Commander Lord General Luthor turned into a mist of blood and gore by a gargantuan creature from out of this world.
Ignatham was in the front row seats when it all went down. The trooper saw the nightmarish warp spawn up close, like a prehistoric man who suddenly encountered a legendary apex predator; it was an overwhelmingly shocking experience.
Being a trooper, Ignatham was conditioned for combat shock, but this time the threat he perceived had extended to his entire species and it proved too much. As a resident of a fringe civilised world far away from most of the galactic horrors, daemons were but vague concepts to him until that very moment.
The daemons are real.
Ignatham’s terrified mind was taken to the edge, all training failing him. While the gigantic daemon never showed him the slightest attention, for a microsecond Ignatham saw its eyes and it shook his soul. The sheer level of hatred and malice pouring forth from those glowing orbs convinced him they needed supernatural help.
Ignatham did not raise his trusted lasgun nor did he attempt to flee. What was the point? Throne preserves us, this foe is beyond us. His mind searched frantically for any possible solution, silly but plausible notions flashed before his mind, looking for a way out.
The God-Emperor was too far away on Holy Terra and confined to his golden throne, his angels of death were not around.
Hold on, if daemons are real, then those stories about saints must be real too. Maybe if they had an anointed saint blessed with His power … wait, was that singing lady a saint? But she was on the other side and might not extend a helping hand.
We are doomed. Ignatham’s jumbled mind concluded. He lost his mental strength, dropped to his knees and began laughing uncontrollably as the pandemonium of madness continued around him. That was where his conscious memory ended that day.
For a while now, the young trooper could not remember anything nor focus his mind. His name, his life, his aspirations and everything else about him felt like a barely perceivable whisper in the air.
Everything was hazy, in his altered state of mind he found himself floating in space. At first numberless unblinking stars surrounded him, but soon they started disappearing, leaving an unsettling dark void. Surrounded by total darkness he came to the realisation he was not alone, there in the lightless depths a feeling of something truly colossal stirred.
The trooper’s terrified consciousness was sinking towards the darkness, deeper and deeper his mind dove until it was hanging at the very edge of the abyss. An eternal void was staring at him and he sensed a disturbing resonance coming from an unimaginable distance away. When he listened hard enough, it sounded a lot like cruel laughter.
Feeling trapped in the worst case of sleep paralysis, he wanted to scream, to wake up from this living nightmare. His consciousness hung helplessly at the edge of sanity while staring at the beckoning void. After holding on for an indeterminable amount of time, he felt the final reserves of his inner strength dissipating, his feeble mental fortitude unable to hold against the darkness forever.
Finally, his last ounce of strength left him, and he screamed in his mind as he was about to drop into the proverbial cosmic abyss. He felt the prospect of facing an eternity of damnation. A lifetime of conditioning kicked in and he instinctively cried out to the one and only entity in the galaxy who could offer salvation.
Throne! Emperor! Have mercy on my soul!
The void replied in silence as he cried in despair. Just as the young trooper was about to totally lose it, a bright light burst into existence. He watched in bewilderment as the surrounding darkness was chased away by a warm golden light.
‘Ignatham.’ Someone called from a distance.
Ignatham? That sounded so familiar… Wait, that’s my name, I am Ignatham. Suddenly the heavy mental fog was lifted and he remembered everything. Stunned and surrounded by the bright light, he sensed a presence nearby and turned to it.
Ignatham could not believe his eyes as a girl emerged from the brilliance. She wore a robe of the purest white, her face obscured by a blinding halo of divine radiance.
‘Ignatham?’
The girl called his name again, her soft and gentle voice seemed to echo to eternity in this strange space. Ignatham struggled to pick out facial features as her impression shifted every time he focused on it. For a fleeting moment he caught glimpses of his long deceased mother, but she looked so young and beautiful here.
Ignatham felt no fear, a feeling from the bottom of his heart informed him the shining figure meant no harm. So this is the afterlife? Ignatham was sure of it, he started crying and reached out with his hand.
Show me, he thought, show me the afterlife.
* * *
It was working.
I felt a deep sense of relief as what seemed to be warp taint residue was burnt away from the patient by my halo’s intensity in close proximity. While I was still totally clueless on how any of this worked there was no arguing with the result.
The patient, a young trooper from the rebel faction, was seated across me with our faces less than two feet apart. My halo was on full blast, the psychic energy holding a hint of the Emperor’s unique version of divinity driving away the corruption.
Welminah, Herlindya, Maylin, Tsalieh, Alicya and a small squad of sisters were watching attentively nearby. Earlier when Maylin saw my halo in person for the first time she lost her composure and was moved to tears. This… this light is so divine! Her mind screamed while the Sororitas only emitted deep silent reverence.
Why is her mind so loud? I wondered for a second before deciding to focus on finishing the task at hand.
‘Ignatham.’ I called his name.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The trooper started moaning softly like a person waking from a deep sleep. His once totally off focus eyes started training on me, a hint of comprehension showed on his face as tears started flowing down his cheek. He was coming around.
‘Ignatham?’ I called again.
Instead of answering me, he feebly raised his right hand.
‘Trooper Ignatham.’
Still no reply, but someone had definitely come back home in that previously listless body. His hand slowly started to reach out as if trying to caress my face. From my perspective his speed might as well be a bean sprouting so I ignored it.
The majority of my attention was spent closely observing the retreating darkness in his body. My theory and method needed to be confirmed, thousands of lives were riding on this. I looked closer, engrossed in the incredible sight of the miniscule warp residue inside him dissolving like dew meeting the afternoon sun.
That would do it, with this therapy we can - it was then something entered into my peripheral field at high speed. By the time I realised what was happening there were few good options left.
WHAM!
The sound of a solid strike rang out in the room as Ignatham’s face was hammered by the back end of a bolter, the trooper was still falling back from his chair when two battle sisters rushed over to him. In the next second Alicya had stepped in front of me while the poor trooper was about to be pummelled further.
‘Stop it! He was just coming around.’ I called out.
The sisters froze on my command, two of them were mid way of laying into him with the butts of their bolters. A third sister had just switched off the safety of her bolter and was likely a moment away from discharging her weapon.
That was close. It was partly my fault, I did not realise how serious the Sororitas were about my protection. They must have taken the trooper’s attempt to touch me as a form of assault.
‘Sisters, please stand down. Thank you. Alicya, it is fine.’ I gently pushed away the palatine who was blocking my path and walked over to the downed trooper. He was in shock, holding up his hands to block further blows while breathing heavily from a bruised face. If it was not for me subtly pushing him at the last second to avoid maximum impact he would have suffered at least a few broken teeth on top of that.
I turned my halo off and squatted down for a better look at the trooper. He was glancing around nervously, looking confused. Imagine waking up from the worst hangover ever to a bunch of angry battle sisters gunbutting you. A part of me wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of his situation but I kept my straight face and asked, ‘have you awakened, trooper?’
He nodded quickly.
‘Kindly introduce yourself.’ I asked for confirmation.
He hesitated for a second before starting to talk, his voice weak and dry with insufficient hydration. ‘Trooper first class Ignatham Harrin of Squad Gerhartte, Second Platoon, First Battalion of the Northern Great Army, reporting for duty. Ma’am!’ He said with a forced gusto before forming the Aquila sign while on the ground.
‘He seems fine now, please check on him.’ I said.
‘Well, we happen to have an expert here.’ Herlindya said before turning to Maylin. ‘Preacher, you were involved in the faith validation process, correct? Could you do a preliminary check on this trooper?’
Maylin, who was still in a kind of trance upon witnessing what happened, snapped to attention after being addressed by an agent of the Inquisition. ‘Right, pass me his information and I can do that.’
As Maylin started working, I went on a discussion with the others.
‘So how was that?’ I asked.
‘Splendidly done my lady, it would not have worked without your level of powers.’ Tsalieh commented.
‘It this sustainable? Are you feeling drained?’ Herlindya asked.
‘I think I can do it all day.’ I said after testing my reserves.
‘That is frankly absurd.’ Tsalieh remarked pensively, making me wonder about my own psyker level.
‘If we are going to continue, I would suggest tying up the rest to prevent them from attempting anything.’ Alicya chipped in, looking fiercely protective.
A while later Maylin reported that aside from feeling confused about his situation, everything seemed fine with the first test candidate. We went ahead with the rest and tied them up beforehand as Alicya suggested.
One by one the test candidates were freed from their vegetative state. The interesting bits were their myriad of reactions. Most nervously looked around while asking what had happened, a few cried out for their mothers, one asked if I was an angel to lead his soul to the Emperor.
I pressed on, learning a little bit more about the process with each candidate and was gaining confidence until one uncooperative case. For this particular individual, the residual taint inside him seemed extraordinarily stubborn and did not dissipate with the same treatment process. I tried and tried until I decided to increase intensity by moving closer to the candidate.
With our faces about one feet apart, my halo was practically engulfing him as I observed his condition. The last bit of warp residue retreated further but still did not dissolve, and just when I decided to move even closer to finish the job, the trooper suddenly lashed out with a blood-curdling scream and came biting at me with extraordinary speed.
Time slowed down just enough for me to get a proper look at everything, including the young man’s eyes. In the windows to his soul I saw an abyss, nothing but madness glinted in his iris.
Startled and propelled by self preservation, I reacted by jerking back while delivering a hand chop with maximum force at his throat. While the man seemed deadly fast in his altered state, I proved to be faster and my attack connected first despite striking out later.
In slow motion I saw my hand sink into his neck and cut right through, pushing through layers of elastic skin, flesh, nerves, arteries and bones. I experienced each layer’s distinct texture and density as my hand crushed into them until a jumbled up organic mess formed and stopped me from decapitating him outright.
The brutal momentum flung the crazed trooper like a rag doll to the side, splattering the room with a shower of crimson blood before he dropped to the floor in a literal bloody mess.
In the next moment Alicya was shielding in front of me again, shouting orders while another sister dragged me back, away to supposed safety. While I could have easily freed myself from the feeble human restraint, mentally I was in a shock and just went with the flow. Already two more sisters had stepped forward, their bolters trained at the fallen man.
But the trooper remained motionless, the only movement was the spreading of his blood on the floor and the dripping of the same blood from my hand. Alerted by the commotion, Maylin who was working next door appeared, her expression turned to horror upon witnessing the gruesome scene.
For some reason the only thing on my mind was my first encounter with the grimdark universe as a classic computer game I picked up. On the back of its box was a quote printed in a large and thick font stating: THOU SHALT KILL.
While my mind became a numbing mess, the expected adrenaline rush from such an event did not occur. Instead the sense of utter calmness I felt, as if I just swatted an annoying insect, shocked me.
The dripping of warm blood from my hand eventually refocused my jittering attention. I held up my hand for a closer look, found it covered in blood but otherwise unscathed despite cutting through a man’s neck.
‘I am sorry for the mess. Please excuse me while I go clean up.’ Not waiting for a response, I departed and headed towards the nearest washroom that was registered in my memory.
Luckily for me, hand sanitising liquid was still a common enough feature in the grim darkness of the far future. Alone in a water closet, I stood and watched like a zombie as the last traces of blood on my hand was washed away by running tap water.
I just killed someone with my hand.
Yes, I killed people before. In the final battle of the civil war, some of my actions had directly led to the demise of rebel personnels. But those kills had been done remotely, using machines from far far away. This was my first melee kill, up close and personal.
Thanks to my primarch-level memory retention, I could still clearly recall how my dainty hand went through the man’s muscular neck as if human flesh had the consistency of tofu while neck bones were little more than brittle, hollowed out twigs. For some reason I also could not help but notice that despite the massive spillage of blood, not a single drop of the sanguine liquid managed to cling onto my robe. Just what sort of cloth is this?
I ran [Analytica] on my own robe. The reading came back, Material: Superior eternal silk. Totally no idea what material was that.
After washing my hand for the third time, I rinsed it dry and muttered a silent curse as the faint smell of blood still lingered. Then I realised that probably only transhumans could detect such low levels of the scent, it was like that time when I … no, not me, Syrine escaped from beneath the imperial palace.
What did she do back then to get rid of scent trails when cornered by the custodes? I raised my hand for a closer inspection while recalling the memory, then almost reflexively my psychic energies flexed for the briefest moment and a miniscule amount of power was discharged onto my hand. In the next moment invisible warp fire fluttered and burned through the surface of my hand, ionising everything on top of the skin and obliterating any last hint of the blood. I was stunned by the immediate result, it seemed I just discovered another weird application of my powers.
As I left the water closet and opened the door to the outside, two battle sisters guarding nearby snapped to attention. It took a moment for me to comprehend that even just for going to the sink to wash my hands I had elite bodyguards armed with bolters looking over me.
When I returned to the room, it was filled with people doing some sort of crime scene investigation. Everyone turned to me as I stepped in and the atmosphere felt extremely tense. Some of the people’s surface thoughts even came through to me.
Throne, this is bad. One of them was thinking.
Heads might roll for this. Another person echoed mentally.
That made me nervous. Technically I just committed murder in front of everyone despite the fact that the man attacked first.
As I pondered on the situation, Alicya approached me with a grave face. That felt extra strange as she seldom displayed such an expression towards me. That alone and the grim resolve I felt emanating from her made me even more nervous. Wait, really? Am I in trouble for this?
Just as I was contemplating what to say, to my surprise Alicya knelt down in front and started apologising. ‘Holy Daughter, we are extremely sorry for our inefficient vetting process that let a heretic get so close and attack you. I will be personally taking responsibility for this transgression.’ The palatine said softly, and despite her neutral tone I could feel the intense emotions of regret and shame she was keeping a tight leash on.
Heretic? The sight of Alicya, a well-mannered, pretty and extremely capable girl deep in remorse kneeling in front of me broke my male-centric heart. I reached down, held onto her shoulders and said, ‘don’t say that. Show me what you have discovered.’
She obliged and walked me to the mess I had created, the small crowd parting before us. There, in a pool of dried blood, was the almost decapitated corpse, his head turned to the side on the floor, eyes lifeless and mouth opened wide by a squating sister hospitaller next to him.
At first I was not sure what was being shown to me but then my spine chilled upon seeing what Alicya had meant. Inside the right cheek of the dead man was a sizable scar of sorts that formed the shape of eight arrows in a radial pattern.
It was the mark of Chaos, symbol of the Great Enemy.
This was the first time I saw this symbol in this universe and it occurred in such a gruesome manner. Back in my world the symbol of chaos served little more than a mark of rebellion or the dedication to a fandom. Here, it looked like it had a life of its own, with real tangible powers.
It took a moment before I deduced stopping our work here was akin to conceding to the enemy. I turned to the throne agent, ‘Herlindya, how many more candidates to go?’
‘Seven.’
‘Please guide the sisters on what to do with this. We will continue to work with the rest.’ I said. After getting a glimpse of what was at stake, I fully intended to finish the job.