Chapter 45: I ask you my Emperor
Nidhog153
Warhammer Lore Lover and Nasu-verse enjoyer.
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A/N: Apologies, but my computer broke so I couldn't post for two weeks.
—-------------------------------------------------
Neoth stepped off the ramp of the auramite-plated Stormbird. Valdor, and two of the Legio Custodes accompanied him down the ramp. They had landed in the middle of a desert, far from the Imperial Palace or any other human habitation for that matter. Before him were representatives of the Legiones Cataegis. Not all of them were here, but the primarchs of each of the 20 Legiones were there to represent them. Arik Taranis, their leader, was at the forefront of all the Cataegis.
His newest creations were also present, albeit in far fewer numbers. Only those in the upper ranks of each Legion were here, lined up in rows of 4 rows of 10 or 12. They were a multicolored series of armored soldiers standing to attention, facing the yellowish-beige or bronze armored maniples of Cataegis who simply stood straight.
Neoth walked in between them, his 20 new Legions on the right, and his 20 older Legiones on his left.
The Captain-General turned as they walked, locking eyes with one specific Thunder Warrior.
'Ushotan.' Neoth remembered the man Valdor had noticed. The Cataegis primus of the 4th Legiones, the 'Iron Lords', had been brought up several times by Valdor when debating what to do with the Thunder Warriors in general.
"He was like the ghost of all murders." Valdor stated at the time, brow furrowed as he described what he saw.
—-------------------------------------------------
The Battle of the Red Frost, the final battle against the Priest-King and Tyrant-Prophet Maulland Sen, was a siege where the Legiones Cataegis and the Imperial Army were deployed in unison. They had both participated in the Nordyc campaign, but until then the Imperial Army could only follow the trail of death and destruction the Cataegis left behind.
The unaugmented human troops were led by the Emperor and his Legio Custodes, in order to ensure morale remained high under the grueling conditions. The 4th Legiones of the Legiones Cataegis were led by Ushotan.
At the last castle of Maulland Sen, red snow fell from a sky filled with purple clouds. This final bastion of the Priest-King was built into a mountain. Sickly green light could be seen rising out from behind the walls, even from a distance. The pitch black walls were embellished with artistic yet cruel geometry. Bladed curves and crystalline spikes covered every surface, and made the normal troops of the Imperial Army shiver just by looking at them. It was as if they could feel a ghostly razor touching their skin, raising it into gooseflesh as they imagined what it would be like to slide their hands or face against those sadistic surfaces.
Various flame weapons lined the battlements, and when the siege began, black and purple fire melted the surrounding ice. The meltwater flowed down the rocks, turning gray and thick as it ran. It became a waist deep sludge that swarmed over the Imperium's armies. The filthy water found its way through airtight gaskets and armored seals, short circuiting the electronics and stalling the engines of the Imperium's tanks and other vehicles.
In the end, only the Imperium's infantry was left combat ready. Yet, the Emperor ordered his unenhanced forces to continue on. To retreat now would expose them to a counter-attack, and with their vehicles incapacitated, the only thing they would be retreating to was a cold starving death in the freezing Nordyc wastelands.
The Thunder Warriors needed no such encouragement. They stomped over the gray sludge, bolters and chain blades in hand.
When the battle began in earnest, tentacled and beaked mutants wriggled out of the castle gates, swallowing men whole or setting them ablaze with azure flames.
Mechanical monstrosities covered in chains and spikes used entombed psykers to paralyze the unenhanced men and women of the Imperial Army with agonizing hallucinations and mirages.
Lopsided cannibal cultists, covered in stitches with extra arms, legs and heads dragged off the men and women disoriented by the machines. They hoisted those they captured on hooked standards so their compatriots could watch them being torn apart. A cruel and vicious attempt to break the morale of the Emperor's troops.
But worst of all were the whispers that would not stop. Endless chattering filled every ear. The meaningless noise gradually began to make a horrific sense the longer one listened to it. Blood began to flow out of ears and eyes. Madness took over any who strayed too far from the physical presence of the Emperor or his Custodes.
In that Chaos, it was the Thunder Warriors who broke through the enemy lines. They were immune to the whispers that waylaid the unenhanced troops of the Imperium, as well as many of the other mirages and hallucinations sent their way. Instead, every moment they spent exposed to the madness simply made them more ferocious, as if it were fueling their thirst for blood and violence.
After nearly a day of ceaseless fighting, the enemy focussed their forces to punch through the weakening Imperial Army lines. Conversely, their own ranks thinned where the Imperium was strongest.
Strategically it was the right thing to do. Breaking the siege encirclement would allow Maulland Sen's forces to sandwich the Imperium's forces against the castle walls. However, during this brief moment of reorganization, the Thunder Warriors broke through the enemy defenders. They reached the bare walls of the castle, and blew holes in it with explosives. Then, they flooded into the castle and began slaughtering everyone they could reach.
Kidnapped slaves. Ignorant servants. Blind citizens. Coerced workers.
It did not matter.
They killed them and the priests who controlled the monsters defending the city, causing the enemy formations to fall apart.
Free from the psychic controls of Maulland Sen's priests, their monsters either collapsed or struck out at their own troops in their madness.
The cruel machines lost all inhibition, injecting pain stimulants into their entombed psykers until the mind-mutants unleashed psychic screams that tore themselves and the torturous machines apart, tearing holes in their own lines.
The zealots of the Priest King charged into the Imperium's gunlines without covering fire, and were gunned down by the men and women who had weathered the assault of the Tyrant Prophet.
Yet, even though the battle was won, the killing would not stop.
Constantin Valdor entered the ruined castle while the Emperor stayed with his remaining troops, shielding their minds and buttressing their morale with his presence.
There, he saw the surviving Thunder Warriors butchering everything in sight, chasing after screaming women and crying children with the same vigor that they hounded the surviving priests and cultists of Maulland Sen.
In the middle of it all was Ushotan. His head was held back as laughter spilled from his lips into the sky. Cataegis, cultists, and civilian corpses lay around his feet. His broadsword, surrounded in crackling crimson plasma, dangled limply from his broken arm. Innocent and guilty blood spattered his armor and exposed face, for his helmet had been torn off his head.
The primarch of the 4th Legiones looked at Valdor, grinning from ear to ear, twisting the scars on his face.
"I understand…" He said to the Captain-General, as the red snow falling around them was replaced with ordinary white ice crystals. "For the first time, I understand why the Emperor made me." The primarch let out one final choking guttural laugh as the purple clouds above them began to dissipate. Then the Thunder Warrior became deathly silent as he turned to face Valdor.
"You wouldn't understand." Ushotan said softly to the silent Valdor. "You will never feel the same as I do." He hissed.
Valdor made no reply. He simply scanned his surroundings, and began to march past the primarch. Maulland Sen's corpse was not here, and the battle would not end while the Priest-King kept his head.
The Captain-General didn't bother trying to order the Thunder Warriors. They had already shown him how they treated his orders. He would only be wasting time and air.
Ushotan snorted as the Custodes ignored him. "I pity you, Captain-General." He said to Valdor's back.
Several hours later, Valdor returned from the depths of the castle with Maulland Sen's head. The Captain-General's announcement of the Imperium's victory was made to the tired and terrified troops outside the castle, as well as the corpses inside the walls being buried by pure white snow.
The Thunder Warriors had already left, leaving for the next battle, the next slaughter.
—-------------------------------------------------
Constantin Valdor had always been the most cautious amongst the Emperor's inner circle regarding genecraft. His interactions with the Thunder Warriors only added to his long list of reasons to avoid using that particular branch of technology. Thus, discussions of what to do with the Legiones Cataegis, and the Emperor's other projects often ended up as debating matches between the Captain-General and the Sigillite.
Astarte didn't bother joining those discussions. She was too busy thinking of how to make and perfect her future creations. The usage of genecraft was a foregone conclusion in her mind, so she didn't bother with the questions that usually came before implementation.
Erda also kept her silence, but her silence was closer to that of the Emperor's. It was as if the two of them already knew the answer to the question at hand, but were waiting for the Captain-General and Imperial Regent to put it into words.
"We have an army of bombs that think." Valdor said to Malcador once he returned to the Sanctum Imperialis with the Emperor from the Nordyc campaign. "They act without guilt because of that. A bomb does not care who or what it kills. It only goes to its target and kills everything it can in its blast radius. That is what they think themselves to be. They have convinced themselves that killing is all they can do, and it is all they are good for."
"They act exactly as we have designed them." Malcador replied. "All of the physical capabilities of a Custodes in a mass-producible and obedient form."
"They do not obey orders." Valdor responded, pointing out the part of Malcador's statement that he felt was wrong.
"They do not obey complicated orders." Malcador corrected. "Further refinement and modification will be necessary for future generations, but for the foes we face on Terra the Legiones Cataegis will be enough."
"And what do we do with them once the next generation is ready to serve?" Valdor asked slowly. "What does a thinking bomb do when it has nothing left to destroy?"
Malcador sighed, admitting without words that Valdor had scored a point against him. The Thunder Warriors could not live in a time of peace. They were all children of techno-barbarians; both friend and foe. Violence was all they knew, before and after their conscription into the Legiones Cataegis. Techno-barbarians were not the most nurturing parents, after all.
'Might makes right' was the only way they understood the world, and the only way they had stayed alive.
There was also the nihilism that pervaded their ranks. Their enhancements, scientific and metaphysical, resulted in many deaths and mutations. Sometimes it resulted in them keeling over, with no discernible cause of death. Other times it was more obvious, as their bodies exploded from the internal pressure built up by countless tumors or in-fighting organs.
This constant reminder that they were on death's door made them more cavalier. It did not matter if they lived or died. They were all on borrowed time already, and there is nothing a dead man has to fear. No danger, no punishment, no pain would stop them.
These mental and physical traits meant that there was no rest for them in a world without war. Civilian life was out of the question. They could kill ordinary humans just by running into them. Their aggressive temperament made fights or brawls an inevitability. Their lack of care for punishment or reprimand made them unrepentant. People would die around them, and such incidents would sully the image of all future generations of genecrafted soldiers.
After a few moments, Malcador opened his mouth again. "What does any army do with spare ammunition reaching its expiration date?" He asked rhetorically. "Use it up, or destroy it." The Sigilite answered his own question. "It would be a mercy for them. Better to let them die a legend, than live on and be treated like monsters."
"And the ones who come after? What of them?" Valdor questioned Malcador as the Emperor watched the both of them. "How will we avoid replicating the same problems we have with the Cataegis? They too will be weapons in a war that will be far more complicated than anything we have experienced here."
"Do not worry." Malcador smiled. "Unlike the Cataegis, you will not be the one responsible for them."
—-------------------------------------------------
The Captain-General and the primarch of the 4th Legiones broke eye contact as Neoth and his Custodes walked past him.
'There is no convincing them as the Emperor.' Neoth thought to himself, feeling the minds and emotions of the Cataegis staring at him.
They neither hated nor feared him. All he felt from them was a bitter resentment.
He already knew their arguments against him, and he also knew no words could make things right between them.
'I will need to show them why I made them.' Neoth sighed internally. 'They think I need weapons. They think I am just another tyrant.'
The God of Heroes grimaced internally as he saw what was to come.
'I will need to show them…' Neoth thought to himself as he came to a stop in the center of his Legions and Legiones. He felt all those before him growing smaller, less significant as he allowed his mindset to shift from mortal man to divine being. 'They will need to learn of the arrogance of believing they understand me, and the error of their ways.'
God is not understood. God is not questioned. God is obeyed.
—-------------------------------------------------
Ushotan watched his maker walk past, coming to a stop in front of Arik Taranis; the leader of the Legiones Cataegis. Behind his maker were smaller versions of Ushotan and his fellow Cataegis. However, unlike the Cataegis who stood in loosely formed rectangles, these new soldiers stood in propper rank and held themselves in the same manner as ordinary Imperial Army soldiers.
'Like tin soldiers out of a mold.' Ushotan thought to himself. This was the first time he had seen them personally, but he had heard from the other Cataegis primarchs of smaller gene-enhanced soldiers fighting on the outskirts of their battles. Some had the noticeable stiffness of vat-grown clones. Their movements were compartmentalized; completing one action fully before moving to the next instead of flowing between the two like a normal person's would.
Ushotan grimaced. To see them at his maker's back while the Cataegis were before him was nauseous. The positioning reminded him of how the Imperial Iterators conducted their speeches. Those blabber mouths would stand before an ignorant crowd, with the symbols of the Imperium at their back. In this situation, it was the Cataegis who were being talked down to by the Emperor, and these new soldiers were the representation of the Imperium.
Hate coursed through Ushotan's mind as he glared past the Emperor at the men in multi-colored power armor..
'We are the ones who built this Imperium.' The thought echoed in his mind bitterly.
The Raptor Imperialis was their symbol, and it was their name that was inscribed in the Imperial records as the bringers of unity to Terra.
'That is our place.' Ushotan growled to himself in his mind.
It was they who should be at the Emperor's back, not them.
Ushotan turned his head away from them, focussing on the Emperor instead.
The Emperor was his maker. It might have been that ancient hag and her technicians who had pressed the buttons and conducted the surgeries that transformed his body, however, he knew it was the Emperor that gave them the instructions on how to do so. He has seen Astarte's previous work. Many had been slain by his and his fellow Cataegis's hands in the training grounds where they were tested. They were something else entirely compared to those things.
But that was not the only part of their creation the Emperor was involved in. That was not the true reason he called him his maker.
His maker was a tyrant like no other.
He was strong.
He was cunning.
He was ruthless.
And, most importantly, he was beautiful.
Ushotan had no expectations for humanity. He had seen too many of the worst of them during the Unification Wars. Many times he had seen techno-barbarian bands and cultists flock around leaders who only had their looks and sweet words.
He smiled to himself, remembering those fools and miscreants scattering like ants when he tore their 'divine' leader's spine out of their body.
'Beauty as a virtue is an instinct of man.' Ushotan thought to himself idly as he waited for the Emperor to reveal why he had gathered them here.
His Emperor took his physical and ideological beauty further than the average charismatic charlatan. He used his words and looks to form attractive propaganda. Children played with paper armor molded to mimic the one he and his fellow Cataegis wore. They imitated the most vicious mass murdering monsters made by the Imperium as heroes, and their parents let them.
Truly, his tyrant had no equal when it came to controlling those under him.
That was why the Emperor was the maker of the Legiones Cataegis.
'So why?' Ushotan felt the rage he felt at their shaming at Albia bubble up again. 'Why do you tolerate them?'
By 'them' he meant all those who stood in the Emperor's way.
The lords from Albia were the worst offenders. Ushotan still remembered the almost blinding anger he felt when he and the rest of the Cataegis were forced to kneel before those fat, bearded lords. To see his maker standing by them side-by-side, as if he were an equal to them, made his arms and legs shake with shame.
Those were the most egregious and unforgivable of them. Yet, even the oldest of allies were at fault. The greedy Yndonesic bloc, and the arrogant Achaemenid Empire were no longer as cooperative as they once were almost 600 years ago.
There were precious few Cataegis still alive from that time. Only Arik Taranis, most of the primarchs, and the odd soldier here and there remembered those early days of the Imperium.
'They debated whether we should have an eagle and thunderbolts as our insignia.' Ushotan mused to himself. 'Some thought it wasn't fitting, that it sent the wrong message… Fools.'
"CATAEGIS!" Arik Taranis's voice boomed. "SALUTATIO MILITARIS!"
'They thought this Imperium was meant to build something.' Ushotan thought to himself as he saluted the Emperor with his brothers. 'That the Imperium was meant to recover and restore this blasted planet. They said an eagle only builds its own eerie, and that storms only bring destruction.'
He laughed silently as he watched the Emperor. 'The Emperor made no mistake with his insignia.'
That was why he made them this way. That was why he killed the weak and unworthy for the Emperor.
And that was why the Emperor's recent actions angered him and his fellow Cataegis.
'You made us.' Ushotan thought as his eyes fixated on the Emperor's chiseled features. 'Use us.'
Empires can only exist when there are wars to win, lands to take, and endless expansion to distract the populace. How else would one unify a single polity composed of so many different parts? Class. Culture. Race. Creed. The Imperium had not eliminated those divisions. It only focussed their efforts on their shared enemies.
Thus, the day the Imperium ran out of enemies was the day it would start to die. It would cannibalize itself, just like the organs of the Thunder Warriors themselves.
'Use us.' Ushotan willed towards the Emperor. 'If there are no more enemies, we will make them for you. Rebels, dissidents, guerrillas, it will not matter. We will crush them endlessly, keeping the impossible goal of unity on this planet alive and well for eternity.'
Ushotan watched the Emperor open his mouth…
"The Unification Wars are over."
With those words, Ushotan's world broke.
—-------------------------------------------------
Rylanor watched the Legiones Cataegis all freeze at once, then begin to tremble. He could see the millimeter vibrations rumbling across them, as they struggled to remain frozen in the saluting position.
"Unity has not yet been achieved." The Emperor continued, and Rylanor saw some of the Cataegis recover from their initial shock. Most were still trembling with emotion, but a few had stilled, listening quizzically to the Emperor's words.
"However, the level of resistance has decreased to the point it is no longer worth calling a war." The Emperor continued. "All regions of Terra bar one have begun the process of diplomatic alignment with the Lex Imperialis. Soon, they too will become part of the Imperium through legislation and trading treaties."
This was not what the Cataegis wanted to hear. This was not what they expected of the Emperor.
"I say this to you ahead of all my other servants as a reward for your service, and to inform you of your options from now on."
Rylanor saw Arik Taranis perk up at this. Out of all the Cataegis, he alone had not expressed any emotion at the Emperor's words. However, it was not due to a lack of emotion, or apathy.
'He is a survivor.' Rylanor thought to himself.
Arik Taranis was one of the first Cataegis ever created. That meant he had lived through over 6 centuries of war on the front lines with his constantly degrading body.
'A living Ship of Theseus.' That was how Rylanor would describe the man. Cataegis required constant replacement of their organs to continue functioning. Ordinarily these would be supplied by the Medicae attached to their Legiones. However, on the field, such replenishments could not be relied on. In those situations, the Cataegis relied on the closest source of organs, namely each other. Dead or critically wounded Cataegis would have their organs recycled into the ones who were still alive.
Thus, for a Cataegis as ancient as Arik Taranis, it was almost a guarantee that there was nothing left of his original body.
This man had neither shame, nor fear, nor ambition. All he cared about was survival.
"Amar Astarte has found a solution for your ailments." The Emperor continued. "The mutations you have lived with can be healed with her treatment. With them, you can continue serving me if you wish to do so. However, the Legiones Cataegis will be disbanded. You will all be reassigned to the new Legions behind me, depending on your aptitude and progression of your treatment."
The Emperor paused again before continuing.
"For those of you who wish not to serve me any longer, there is a plan for your dischargement. We have projects that will transfer your mind to a new body. A body that will have both your ailments and your enhancements removed. The Imperium will provide you with options for retraining and education, as well as a permanent monthly pension that you may use as you wish."
There were no cries of joy, no whoops of celebration, no sighs of relief that came with the completion of a job.
Instead, Rylanor felt a murderous rage leaking out from the Cataegis, locked into the saluting position. He looked at his brothers and fellow Legions, and noticed some had placed their hands on the bolter and chain blades attached to their belt.
However, the Custodes did not react at all to the hostility radiating before them, and neither did the Emperor.
"Although I have never led you directly on the battlefield, know that I was satisfied with what you did and shall not reprimand you for your actions. Still, I can no longer allow you to serve as you have. Are there any among you who have issues with my terms?" The Emperor finished his speech with a question. There was a deathly silence. Common sense stated there was no disagreeing with the Emperor. As the ones sent after those who did, the Legiones Cataegis understood this the best.
"Good." The Emperor nodded. "Then-"
"I do!" A single bitter voice rose up from the Cataegis's ranks.
The Emperor turned in its direction.
"Then come before me and voice your grievances, primarch Ushotan." He said.
There was no surprise the Emperor knew Ushotan's name. Each primarch was handpicked by him out of the rank and file. However, the Cataegis eyed him warily. They knew their maker was not a foolish man, and he knew the value of theatrics as a good tyrant would. This interruption had been expected, if not planned for. They would wait for the moment, to see how the Emperor intended to let things play out.
The primarch of the 4th Legiones marched out from the line behind Arik Taranis. Fists and jaw clenched, his entire posture screamed his insolence. He knew he was playing a role in the Emperor's script, but the emotions he felt were not changed by this fact. The betrayal, disappointment, and rage he felt were not for show.
Ushotan stepped onto the invisible stage between the multi-colored Legions and bronze Legiones Cataegis. The Emperor turned towards Ushotan, so both had only their sides pointing to the spectators.
"You took me from my family." Ushotan said slowly. "Your gene-sculptors carved me up. They took out my insides and replaced them with what you needed to turn a boy into a monster. Yet, through all of that, I harbored no hatred towards you. You were strong. My tribe was weak. That was all the explanation I needed. I have butchered thousands upon thousands of techno-barbarians in your name for that same reason. Their blood wets my blade for your sake, for your strength. It is because you were greater than all others that you deserved to rule them."
Emotion entered Ushotan's voice in earnest, and his lips pulled back in a bared teeth grimace.
"But, you wavered. You made peace with the fools at Albia, and now seek to make alliances with Merica and Hy-Brasil." The Cataegis spat out the names of the two regions of Terra with venom. "I know what they do to their own children there. I have seen how they treat their people. What makes them so different to all the others we have slaughtered in your name! What gives them the right to live while those others died!"
The Emperor did not reply.
The Mericans harvested their own children for spare organs, and the immortality they gained from that created a kleptocratic society that focussed all wealth towards the already wealthy.
Hy-Brasil was ruled by Dalmoth Kyn, another psyker dictator who ruled with an iron fist, and jealously guarded the boons of Terra's last rainforests.
The people who ruled these polities were no better than the countless other techno-barbarians Ushotan and his brothers had slain. To welcome them into the Imperium was an insult to not only the Cataegis, but the people they killed as well.
"You were a just master once. You spared no one, and handed down the punishment for disobedience equally. Now look at you! You spend your time politicking with weaklings and cowards no different than the sniveling sycophants you had me slay! And for what?! To restore some veneer of ancient civility on this blasted rock?!"
Rylanor placed a hand on one of his brother's shoulders, gently holding him back. The man noticed that he had unconsciously stepped forwards, and gave an appreciative nod to Rylanor before stepping back into position. Rylanor saw similar movements taking place amongst the IIIrd and VIIth Legion. They were the most protective of the Emperor's honor. He did not hold it against his brother, or the other Legions, for he too bristled at the accusation. However, the Emperor had called them all for a reason. Just like when he sent the Cataegis to climb the Alpine Scarps, there was a message being made here.
"Was it the slaughtering of the 'civilians' that made us inferior to these usurpers?" Ushotan waved a hand towards the Legions, drawing glares from them. "Those serfs and slaves are as guilty as the tyrants and mind-mutants they belonged to!" The Cataegis primarch shouted. "Through their labor, they built the weapons those tyrants used. Through their obedience, they let their leaders gain unlimited power! Just because they do not pick up a gun or sword makes them no less culpable than the raiders and slavers they fed, clothed, and serviced! So what if they scream! So what if they beg! Even the world's most despicable deviant will grovel to save his life! Likewise, their pleas for forgiveness entitles them to nothing."
Ushotan's tone calmed down, but the bitterness inside it was audibly black.
"There are no innocents in war. Every single one of them was a cog in the machine. The only thing separating them from soldiers is that they never learned to fight. If I am a monster made to kill men and women, then I shall kill them all equally. No mercy. No forgiveness. No remorse. The fairness of the strong against the weak."
Ushotan took a step towards the Emperor.
"I am a weapon. The only one I will be loyal to is the one that wields me. You were the one. You were the one who told me who to kill. You were the one being I was loyal to. Now, you have discarded us. You have discarded me. What am I supposed to do now when there is a tyrant in front of me who acts just like all the others I have slain?"
There was a deathly silence at the Cataegis threat. Only the Custodes and the Emperor seemed unaffected by it.
"You wish to test me, Ushotan?" The Emperor asked calmly.
"If you are just a tyrant, like all the others squabbling wretches you had me kill in the name of unity, then I will do what a great man once made me to do."
There was an electric crackle as Ushotan pulled his broadsword free.
The Emperor made a backwards motion to his hand, and his Custodes stepped away from him. "You know what will happen if you defy me." He said softly, yet somehow loud enough that all in the Legions and Legiones could hear.
"Then make an example of me." Ushotan spat as he lowered his stance, preparing to strike.
"Do you do this to convince your brothers?" The Emperor asked, tone utterly calm despite the threat of rebellion before him.
"They will draw their own conclusions." Ushotan snorted. "I only wish to see you returned to what you were. A just dictator who laid down the law upon all others equally. A king who knew what it would take to break the back of all resistance. An Emperor with no mercy, no restraint, no limits."
The Emperor closed his eyes, then nodded.
"Very well. Come." He said as he stared back calmly into Ushotan's face. "I will use you, Ushotan, to show you all how little you understand of why I made you." The Cataegis appeared confused for a moment, unsure of what the Emperor meant. "You think I made you because I needed weapons. You are much more and much less than that."
*DZZZZRRRR-!
Ushotan's broadsword crackled as he struck at the Emperor, blind with rage.
He had no delusions that he could defeat the Emperor. He would most likely die for his disobedience, but he did not fear death. He was already a dead man walking. From the day he was taken from his family, he had been living with a bomb in his body. He has seen many others like him explode as their own muscles tore them open. He had seen friends fall to the ground dead mid-sentence without warning.
He was a mass-murderer. He remembered the various men and women he had cut apart with his blade. When the battle lust ended and the red cleared from his mind, he could remember each and every face. At first, the only way he could stop the nightmares was by telling himself that this was what the Emperor had made him to do.
A weapon does not cry. A weapon does not regret. A weapon only kills, and he had done a lot of that. Once he had come to that realization, what reservations did he have about enjoying what he did? He served his purpose, and what tool does not enjoy doing what it was created to do?
That was the conclusion he reached under those purple clouds in the ruins of the castle of Maulland Sen. He started laughing when he realized that, staring up at the falling red snow as his body burned with adrenaline and ecstasy.
'After all of that, what right do you have to say I could have been better?'
Time seemed to stop still, endlessly elongated by his enhanced neurons and synapses. His mind spent the processing power it would usually use to make more complicated attacks with decoding the Emperor's last words.
'I kill because that is what I was made to do. If that was not my purpose, then what was it all for?'
The deaths.
The pain.
The fear of keeling over dead, or being torn apart from the inside at any moment.
All of it.
Why? What was it all for?
Ushotan's plasma enclosed blade slowed to a stop as his mind went into an existential spiral.
Neither he nor the Emperor moved, as if frozen in time.
Then the Emperor took a step forward.
Ushotan's eyes tried to widen, unable to understand what was going on, but the muscles would not move. Nothing moved except the Emperor. Even the sparks of crimson plasma on his broadsword were frozen mid-flight like forks of lightning.
"You are not just a weapon." The Emperor said softly. "You were my messengers, my angels to a divided Terra. The fact that the contents of that message were violent and bloody was unfortunate, but that is a fact of life here. This world ruled by lords, priests, kings, and tyrants offers few avenues for unity. Raw power is the only thing that can crush their pride with fear. Only then could they be shaken out of their self-aggrandizing traditions and beliefs. I spared Albia, Europa and all the others because there are differences between them and the ones I had you exterminate. They are cruel out of incompetence, sloth, perversion, or greed. They turn a blind eye to the suffering they cause, minimizing it as the sufferings of the plebian. They are mundane and base in their evil. The same cannot be said for those like the Priest-King and the Overlord of Ursh. They are an entirely different breed of evil. They cannot be taught the error of their ways. They cannot be cowed. They cannot be bargained with. The only unity they can accept is the shared silence of the grave."
Ushotan listened to the Emperor, slowly beginning to accept the surreal experience.
'And the Pan-Pacific? What of them?' He asked. 'They only wished to be left alone.'
"At that time, they did." The Emperor nodded. "After failing for centuries to win the war they started with the Yndonesic Bloc… After their own failed attempt at unity that extended over the ice wastes of the Arctic all the way to Albia… After seeing Ursh burn and the Cataegis on the horizon… They finally sued for peace. Yet, by then too much blood had been spilled. The blood debt was too heavy to be forgotten."
'Then the Imperium broke the Pan-Pacific Empire to satisfy politics.' Ushotan countered, using words that took away the Emperor's artistic veneer upon events. 'They were the enemy that allowed common ground to be built amongst lands as far apart as the Yndonesic Bloc and Albia. That was the only reason it had to burn. They were the scapegoat to bring together bitter enemies and indifferent parties. A sacrifice for your unity. A sacrifice to grow your empire. A sacrifice that will have to be repeated again and again if you are to hold your grip on power.'
"Do you hate me for that?"
The Emperor tilted his head, and his long dark raven hair took a second to catch up with his movements. The locks of hair floated behind him, as if he were moving through water. Ushotan could not help but notice that in the moment. Despite all his anger and disappointment, the Emperor was still beautiful.
'I am a weapon.' Ushotan replied. 'What I feel matters little so long as I am used, and I have seen the worst the animals that call themselves humans have to offer.'
'I saw it on the battlefield.'
'I saw it when we cut into prison camps of techno-barbarians.'
'I saw it when we stormed into the meat-larders of cannibals and cultists.'
'I saw it in the eyes of mechanical monsters operated with brains harvested from the poor and the young.'
'I saw it in the vacant stares of those we found in the basement crypts where priests and lords kept other humans as pets and pleasure items.'
'I saw it in the fearful stares of all those who knew what I knew, seen what I had seen, and did nothing to stop it. Those sniveling civilians, serfs, and slaves served their masters right up to the point we finally defeated them.'
'I killed all of them. No matter how hard they screamed, or their excuses for why they allowed such atrocities to happen, I killed them.'
'That is why you need us, Emperor. Your Imperium has many fitting the description of the foes I slew for you. They will be the new sacrifices used to hold the Imperium together. Rebellion. Corruption. Insolence. GIve us a reason, and we will pile their heads at your feet, water your lands with their blood.'
'Innocent, guilty, good, evil. All words with the same meaningless definition. There is only the strong and the weak. The powerful and the powerless. Muddling the two together brings about indecisiveness and imperfection. That is not something I can stand to watch happen to you. Burn down the cities of Albia. Break the guilds of the Yndonesic Bloc. Rule as an Emperor should, for when an Empire runs out of true enemies, the only way to keep it together is to make new ones for eternity.'
There was a long pause within that single instance of stopped time, then Ushotan thought-spoke again.
'If you wanted us to be messengers or angels, then you chose poorly. I neither knew of nor understood what you wanted us to say or symbolize. All I was made to do was hate the enemy, kill the disobedient, and help you rule by fear of retribution.'
"The origin story of every empire is watered with blood." The Emperor nodded. "That is how it has been for humanity since time immemorial. However, what begins with blood need not grow with it. But… you and your brothers cannot be swayed by words. You have seen too much, and I have not led you for a long time."
Ushotan grimaced.
The Emperor did not lead the Cataegis. It was Valdor and the Custodes who ordered them around. The Emperor was too busy mollycoddling the unenhanced soldiers who could only cower without him. The feeble wretches were worthless in Ushotan's eyes. All they did was slow them down and drain their resources. Why the Emperor even bothered with them when he could make more Cataegis from their children was a mystery to him.
"You and your brothers are not weapons." The Emperor said again. "I have no need for weapons at all."
The Emperor stood back, moving freely within frozen time. The sand jumped around his feet, then froze mid-air like splashes of water in a still-frame photo of a skipping stone bouncing across a pond.
A chill went through Ushotan, finally understanding how insane the situation was. This was no hallucination or illusion. Reality itself had bent to the Emperor's will.
'What…' Ushotan started to speak only for the Emperor to interrupt his thoughts.
"My plans require an Imperium built by humanity's own hands. Even if I am the one who gives the orders, humanity must be the one to understand and carry them out." He said as he stepped towards Ushotan. "Once again, I will say it. I have no need for weapons."
The Emperor smiled briefly, then walked past Ushotan.
*RRRRT- KRAKOOOOM!
The sound of the crackling plasma returned, only to be interrupted by a sonic boom.
Ushotan stumbled forwards, completing his lunge, striking only empty air.
For a few moments, there was only the sound of the broadsword's plasma field held in Ushotan's shaking hand.
The primarch of the Iron Lords turned back towards the Emperor, the man who had stopped time itself just to talk to him; a single cog in the Emperor's already vast armies.
Armies that perhaps weren't even necessary.
"Who do you serve, Ushotan?" The Emperor's voice came from behind him, and the primarch turned in its direction. He saw the Emperor's cape covered back, turned towards him completely open and utterly vulnerable.
Ushotan's fingers relaxed, and the plasma field dissipated from his sword. He stabbed the thick blade into the sand as he got down on one knee.
"I am Ushotan, 4th primarch of the Iron Lords and eternal servant to the Imperium of Man and its Emperor."
The Emperor nodded and turned towards the other Cataegis who had seen what had happened. Each and every one of the Thunder Warrior knelt as the Emperor's eyes passed over them.
"You have all lost your way and mistaken my meaning." The Emperor's voice boomed as he spoke to all of them. "As penance, you will surrender control of all forts and garrisons to the Imperial Army and Legions behind me over the next 2 years. They will take over the defense of the Imperium's holdings in your stead. Once that is done, the entire Legiones Cataegis will gather at the base of Mt. Urartu. This will all be overseen by the IIIrd Legion. This responsibility is given to them for their performance during the Antarctic Clearance. Their ability to work with and command the standard forces of the Imperium should allow a seamless transfer of power from the Cataegis."
The Cataegis kept their heads bowed, despite their demotion. The removal of responsibility and standing was a great shaming. Yet, they did not shake with anger like they did when forced to bow before the leaders of Albia.
"Once the Cataegis have done this successfully, I personally will lead the final battle against Mr. Urartu and the Ethnarchy hiding behind them."
There was a slight stirring, not from the Cataegis, but the newer Legions. To be led by the Emperor himself was an honor beyond measure. To show such favoritism for the failed Legiones Cataegis was surprising.
"Over the centuries, I have had you fight many battles. Yet, I have not led you once." The Emperor spoke to his Cataegis. "Thus, it is not surprising that you have lost your way. This is a failure both on your part, and in mine. This is my penance to you."
The Cataegis bowed their heads, silently accepting the Emperor's words.
"I leave the rest to you, Valdor." The Emperor said, turning to his Captain-General. "Begin the transferral of command from you to the IIIrd Legion."
"As you will, my Emperor." Valdor saluted and took center stage.
The Emperor returned to the Stormbird with the other two Custodes as Valdor began to call the Cataegis Primarchs and Arik Taranis forward as well as the highest ranking IIIrd Legion members.
—-------------------------------------------------
Ushotan watched the Emperor's Stormbird fly off into the sky. His heart trembled and blood rushed as he remembered the awe he felt before his maker.
The Emperor was no tyrant. He was no man. That truly was…
Ushotan stilled his trembling fingers and spotted a different Cataegis also clenching his fist to still a similar tremor.
They knew what they had witnessed defied all reason. No mere man freezes time, and such a being has no need for armies or empires.
Ushotan turned his eyes towards the new Legions, and saw them standing blankly to attention. Fury made him see red in that moment, and he clenched his teeth to bite back the hateful roar that had built up inside him.
They didn't know what they had witnessed. They had not seen the Emperor stop time. All they saw was him move inexplicably fast, and that was it. So base were their reaction speeds in comparison to theirs, they had not been able to process the miracle before them.
'Blind dullards.' Ushotan cursed them internally, then proceeded towards the doll-like Valdor to discuss how best to organize the changing of the guard.
His eye then noticed one of the IIIrd Legion approaching them clenching his fist, stifling the same awe inspired tremor the Cataegis felt.
'Perhaps there are some that are worthy…' Ushotan thought to himself, then turned his mind to focus on the task at hand.
—-------------------------------------------------
Rylanor had not heard what the Emperor said, nor had any of the Cataegis. Those words were for Ushotan and Ushotan alone.
Yet, he had heard the words right before that, as well as seen the miracle that happened immediately after.
He had gotten the message, just as he had gotten the message when the Emperor made his Thunder Warriors cross the Alpine Scarps.
'I saw the Emperor appear in two places at once.' Rylanor remembered the nanosecond instance his enhanced eyes and reflexes had captured. 'His image moved from where he was to where he had been. Invisible footsteps in the sand were traced by his feet, but it was only when his present self met his past that reality restored itself.'
Rylanor understood what the Emperor had done. He had not moved so fast that he was a blur. If he had, the order of events would have been from past to future. Rylanor would have seen the Emperor stepping first, and then the disturbed sand. Yet, that was not what Rylanor saw.
The Emperor was before Ushotan, and behind him at the same time. Sand splashes made by armored boots appeared in mid-air, but they only began to fall once the image of the Emperor's current position backtracked through them to meet his past self. When the two selves met, the past Emperor faded and all the events occurred at once. That was the cause of the sonic boom, for it was at that moment the air had finally realized something had moved through it.
A man who can stop time has no enemies. No bullet or bomb could hit them, and no barrier or shield could stop them. Armies would mean nothing, and resistance was impossible.
So, why would such a being need an army? Why would such a being need weapons like them?
Rylanor could not find a logical answer sufficient enough to explain it. They all relied on drawing imaginary limits around a power he had never even known the Emperor had.
"You think I made you because I needed weapons." The Emperor had said. "You are much more and much less than that."
'What are you, Emperor?' Rylanor asked internally as he walked, stifling the tremor in his fingers by clenching his fist. 'What do you want with us?'
He felt a long-forgotten feeling, back when he was just a noble child in Europa, back when he still went to church and prayed.
'Why god?' He had once prayed. 'Why did you make me? What do you want from us?'
Rylanor shook his head, trying to regain control of himself.
There was no god. That was what the Imperial Truth preached.
Yet, he could not stop the feeling of rapture that had begun to sneak out of a long-forgotten door in his memories.
A/N: Explanation for the Emperor's actions takes place next chapter.
—-------------------------------------------------
Neoth stepped off the ramp of the auramite-plated Stormbird. Valdor, and two of the Legio Custodes accompanied him down the ramp. They had landed in the middle of a desert, far from the Imperial Palace or any other human habitation for that matter. Before him were representatives of the Legiones Cataegis. Not all of them were here, but the primarchs of each of the 20 Legiones were there to represent them. Arik Taranis, their leader, was at the forefront of all the Cataegis.
His newest creations were also present, albeit in far fewer numbers. Only those in the upper ranks of each Legion were here, lined up in rows of 4 rows of 10 or 12. They were a multicolored series of armored soldiers standing to attention, facing the yellowish-beige or bronze armored maniples of Cataegis who simply stood straight.
Neoth walked in between them, his 20 new Legions on the right, and his 20 older Legiones on his left.
The Captain-General turned as they walked, locking eyes with one specific Thunder Warrior.
'Ushotan.' Neoth remembered the man Valdor had noticed. The Cataegis primus of the 4th Legiones, the 'Iron Lords', had been brought up several times by Valdor when debating what to do with the Thunder Warriors in general.
"He was like the ghost of all murders." Valdor stated at the time, brow furrowed as he described what he saw.
—-------------------------------------------------
The Battle of the Red Frost, the final battle against the Priest-King and Tyrant-Prophet Maulland Sen, was a siege where the Legiones Cataegis and the Imperial Army were deployed in unison. They had both participated in the Nordyc campaign, but until then the Imperial Army could only follow the trail of death and destruction the Cataegis left behind.
The unaugmented human troops were led by the Emperor and his Legio Custodes, in order to ensure morale remained high under the grueling conditions. The 4th Legiones of the Legiones Cataegis were led by Ushotan.
At the last castle of Maulland Sen, red snow fell from a sky filled with purple clouds. This final bastion of the Priest-King was built into a mountain. Sickly green light could be seen rising out from behind the walls, even from a distance. The pitch black walls were embellished with artistic yet cruel geometry. Bladed curves and crystalline spikes covered every surface, and made the normal troops of the Imperial Army shiver just by looking at them. It was as if they could feel a ghostly razor touching their skin, raising it into gooseflesh as they imagined what it would be like to slide their hands or face against those sadistic surfaces.
Various flame weapons lined the battlements, and when the siege began, black and purple fire melted the surrounding ice. The meltwater flowed down the rocks, turning gray and thick as it ran. It became a waist deep sludge that swarmed over the Imperium's armies. The filthy water found its way through airtight gaskets and armored seals, short circuiting the electronics and stalling the engines of the Imperium's tanks and other vehicles.
In the end, only the Imperium's infantry was left combat ready. Yet, the Emperor ordered his unenhanced forces to continue on. To retreat now would expose them to a counter-attack, and with their vehicles incapacitated, the only thing they would be retreating to was a cold starving death in the freezing Nordyc wastelands.
The Thunder Warriors needed no such encouragement. They stomped over the gray sludge, bolters and chain blades in hand.
When the battle began in earnest, tentacled and beaked mutants wriggled out of the castle gates, swallowing men whole or setting them ablaze with azure flames.
Mechanical monstrosities covered in chains and spikes used entombed psykers to paralyze the unenhanced men and women of the Imperial Army with agonizing hallucinations and mirages.
Lopsided cannibal cultists, covered in stitches with extra arms, legs and heads dragged off the men and women disoriented by the machines. They hoisted those they captured on hooked standards so their compatriots could watch them being torn apart. A cruel and vicious attempt to break the morale of the Emperor's troops.
But worst of all were the whispers that would not stop. Endless chattering filled every ear. The meaningless noise gradually began to make a horrific sense the longer one listened to it. Blood began to flow out of ears and eyes. Madness took over any who strayed too far from the physical presence of the Emperor or his Custodes.
In that Chaos, it was the Thunder Warriors who broke through the enemy lines. They were immune to the whispers that waylaid the unenhanced troops of the Imperium, as well as many of the other mirages and hallucinations sent their way. Instead, every moment they spent exposed to the madness simply made them more ferocious, as if it were fueling their thirst for blood and violence.
After nearly a day of ceaseless fighting, the enemy focussed their forces to punch through the weakening Imperial Army lines. Conversely, their own ranks thinned where the Imperium was strongest.
Strategically it was the right thing to do. Breaking the siege encirclement would allow Maulland Sen's forces to sandwich the Imperium's forces against the castle walls. However, during this brief moment of reorganization, the Thunder Warriors broke through the enemy defenders. They reached the bare walls of the castle, and blew holes in it with explosives. Then, they flooded into the castle and began slaughtering everyone they could reach.
Kidnapped slaves. Ignorant servants. Blind citizens. Coerced workers.
It did not matter.
They killed them and the priests who controlled the monsters defending the city, causing the enemy formations to fall apart.
Free from the psychic controls of Maulland Sen's priests, their monsters either collapsed or struck out at their own troops in their madness.
The cruel machines lost all inhibition, injecting pain stimulants into their entombed psykers until the mind-mutants unleashed psychic screams that tore themselves and the torturous machines apart, tearing holes in their own lines.
The zealots of the Priest King charged into the Imperium's gunlines without covering fire, and were gunned down by the men and women who had weathered the assault of the Tyrant Prophet.
Yet, even though the battle was won, the killing would not stop.
Constantin Valdor entered the ruined castle while the Emperor stayed with his remaining troops, shielding their minds and buttressing their morale with his presence.
There, he saw the surviving Thunder Warriors butchering everything in sight, chasing after screaming women and crying children with the same vigor that they hounded the surviving priests and cultists of Maulland Sen.
In the middle of it all was Ushotan. His head was held back as laughter spilled from his lips into the sky. Cataegis, cultists, and civilian corpses lay around his feet. His broadsword, surrounded in crackling crimson plasma, dangled limply from his broken arm. Innocent and guilty blood spattered his armor and exposed face, for his helmet had been torn off his head.
The primarch of the 4th Legiones looked at Valdor, grinning from ear to ear, twisting the scars on his face.
"I understand…" He said to the Captain-General, as the red snow falling around them was replaced with ordinary white ice crystals. "For the first time, I understand why the Emperor made me." The primarch let out one final choking guttural laugh as the purple clouds above them began to dissipate. Then the Thunder Warrior became deathly silent as he turned to face Valdor.
"You wouldn't understand." Ushotan said softly to the silent Valdor. "You will never feel the same as I do." He hissed.
Valdor made no reply. He simply scanned his surroundings, and began to march past the primarch. Maulland Sen's corpse was not here, and the battle would not end while the Priest-King kept his head.
The Captain-General didn't bother trying to order the Thunder Warriors. They had already shown him how they treated his orders. He would only be wasting time and air.
Ushotan snorted as the Custodes ignored him. "I pity you, Captain-General." He said to Valdor's back.
Several hours later, Valdor returned from the depths of the castle with Maulland Sen's head. The Captain-General's announcement of the Imperium's victory was made to the tired and terrified troops outside the castle, as well as the corpses inside the walls being buried by pure white snow.
The Thunder Warriors had already left, leaving for the next battle, the next slaughter.
—-------------------------------------------------
Constantin Valdor had always been the most cautious amongst the Emperor's inner circle regarding genecraft. His interactions with the Thunder Warriors only added to his long list of reasons to avoid using that particular branch of technology. Thus, discussions of what to do with the Legiones Cataegis, and the Emperor's other projects often ended up as debating matches between the Captain-General and the Sigillite.
Astarte didn't bother joining those discussions. She was too busy thinking of how to make and perfect her future creations. The usage of genecraft was a foregone conclusion in her mind, so she didn't bother with the questions that usually came before implementation.
Erda also kept her silence, but her silence was closer to that of the Emperor's. It was as if the two of them already knew the answer to the question at hand, but were waiting for the Captain-General and Imperial Regent to put it into words.
"We have an army of bombs that think." Valdor said to Malcador once he returned to the Sanctum Imperialis with the Emperor from the Nordyc campaign. "They act without guilt because of that. A bomb does not care who or what it kills. It only goes to its target and kills everything it can in its blast radius. That is what they think themselves to be. They have convinced themselves that killing is all they can do, and it is all they are good for."
"They act exactly as we have designed them." Malcador replied. "All of the physical capabilities of a Custodes in a mass-producible and obedient form."
"They do not obey orders." Valdor responded, pointing out the part of Malcador's statement that he felt was wrong.
"They do not obey complicated orders." Malcador corrected. "Further refinement and modification will be necessary for future generations, but for the foes we face on Terra the Legiones Cataegis will be enough."
"And what do we do with them once the next generation is ready to serve?" Valdor asked slowly. "What does a thinking bomb do when it has nothing left to destroy?"
Malcador sighed, admitting without words that Valdor had scored a point against him. The Thunder Warriors could not live in a time of peace. They were all children of techno-barbarians; both friend and foe. Violence was all they knew, before and after their conscription into the Legiones Cataegis. Techno-barbarians were not the most nurturing parents, after all.
'Might makes right' was the only way they understood the world, and the only way they had stayed alive.
There was also the nihilism that pervaded their ranks. Their enhancements, scientific and metaphysical, resulted in many deaths and mutations. Sometimes it resulted in them keeling over, with no discernible cause of death. Other times it was more obvious, as their bodies exploded from the internal pressure built up by countless tumors or in-fighting organs.
This constant reminder that they were on death's door made them more cavalier. It did not matter if they lived or died. They were all on borrowed time already, and there is nothing a dead man has to fear. No danger, no punishment, no pain would stop them.
These mental and physical traits meant that there was no rest for them in a world without war. Civilian life was out of the question. They could kill ordinary humans just by running into them. Their aggressive temperament made fights or brawls an inevitability. Their lack of care for punishment or reprimand made them unrepentant. People would die around them, and such incidents would sully the image of all future generations of genecrafted soldiers.
After a few moments, Malcador opened his mouth again. "What does any army do with spare ammunition reaching its expiration date?" He asked rhetorically. "Use it up, or destroy it." The Sigilite answered his own question. "It would be a mercy for them. Better to let them die a legend, than live on and be treated like monsters."
"And the ones who come after? What of them?" Valdor questioned Malcador as the Emperor watched the both of them. "How will we avoid replicating the same problems we have with the Cataegis? They too will be weapons in a war that will be far more complicated than anything we have experienced here."
"Do not worry." Malcador smiled. "Unlike the Cataegis, you will not be the one responsible for them."
—-------------------------------------------------
The Captain-General and the primarch of the 4th Legiones broke eye contact as Neoth and his Custodes walked past him.
'There is no convincing them as the Emperor.' Neoth thought to himself, feeling the minds and emotions of the Cataegis staring at him.
They neither hated nor feared him. All he felt from them was a bitter resentment.
He already knew their arguments against him, and he also knew no words could make things right between them.
'I will need to show them why I made them.' Neoth sighed internally. 'They think I need weapons. They think I am just another tyrant.'
The God of Heroes grimaced internally as he saw what was to come.
'I will need to show them…' Neoth thought to himself as he came to a stop in the center of his Legions and Legiones. He felt all those before him growing smaller, less significant as he allowed his mindset to shift from mortal man to divine being. 'They will need to learn of the arrogance of believing they understand me, and the error of their ways.'
God is not understood. God is not questioned. God is obeyed.
—-------------------------------------------------
Ushotan watched his maker walk past, coming to a stop in front of Arik Taranis; the leader of the Legiones Cataegis. Behind his maker were smaller versions of Ushotan and his fellow Cataegis. However, unlike the Cataegis who stood in loosely formed rectangles, these new soldiers stood in propper rank and held themselves in the same manner as ordinary Imperial Army soldiers.
'Like tin soldiers out of a mold.' Ushotan thought to himself. This was the first time he had seen them personally, but he had heard from the other Cataegis primarchs of smaller gene-enhanced soldiers fighting on the outskirts of their battles. Some had the noticeable stiffness of vat-grown clones. Their movements were compartmentalized; completing one action fully before moving to the next instead of flowing between the two like a normal person's would.
Ushotan grimaced. To see them at his maker's back while the Cataegis were before him was nauseous. The positioning reminded him of how the Imperial Iterators conducted their speeches. Those blabber mouths would stand before an ignorant crowd, with the symbols of the Imperium at their back. In this situation, it was the Cataegis who were being talked down to by the Emperor, and these new soldiers were the representation of the Imperium.
Hate coursed through Ushotan's mind as he glared past the Emperor at the men in multi-colored power armor..
'We are the ones who built this Imperium.' The thought echoed in his mind bitterly.
The Raptor Imperialis was their symbol, and it was their name that was inscribed in the Imperial records as the bringers of unity to Terra.
'That is our place.' Ushotan growled to himself in his mind.
It was they who should be at the Emperor's back, not them.
Ushotan turned his head away from them, focussing on the Emperor instead.
The Emperor was his maker. It might have been that ancient hag and her technicians who had pressed the buttons and conducted the surgeries that transformed his body, however, he knew it was the Emperor that gave them the instructions on how to do so. He has seen Astarte's previous work. Many had been slain by his and his fellow Cataegis's hands in the training grounds where they were tested. They were something else entirely compared to those things.
But that was not the only part of their creation the Emperor was involved in. That was not the true reason he called him his maker.
His maker was a tyrant like no other.
He was strong.
He was cunning.
He was ruthless.
And, most importantly, he was beautiful.
Ushotan had no expectations for humanity. He had seen too many of the worst of them during the Unification Wars. Many times he had seen techno-barbarian bands and cultists flock around leaders who only had their looks and sweet words.
He smiled to himself, remembering those fools and miscreants scattering like ants when he tore their 'divine' leader's spine out of their body.
'Beauty as a virtue is an instinct of man.' Ushotan thought to himself idly as he waited for the Emperor to reveal why he had gathered them here.
His Emperor took his physical and ideological beauty further than the average charismatic charlatan. He used his words and looks to form attractive propaganda. Children played with paper armor molded to mimic the one he and his fellow Cataegis wore. They imitated the most vicious mass murdering monsters made by the Imperium as heroes, and their parents let them.
Truly, his tyrant had no equal when it came to controlling those under him.
That was why the Emperor was the maker of the Legiones Cataegis.
'So why?' Ushotan felt the rage he felt at their shaming at Albia bubble up again. 'Why do you tolerate them?'
By 'them' he meant all those who stood in the Emperor's way.
The lords from Albia were the worst offenders. Ushotan still remembered the almost blinding anger he felt when he and the rest of the Cataegis were forced to kneel before those fat, bearded lords. To see his maker standing by them side-by-side, as if he were an equal to them, made his arms and legs shake with shame.
Those were the most egregious and unforgivable of them. Yet, even the oldest of allies were at fault. The greedy Yndonesic bloc, and the arrogant Achaemenid Empire were no longer as cooperative as they once were almost 600 years ago.
There were precious few Cataegis still alive from that time. Only Arik Taranis, most of the primarchs, and the odd soldier here and there remembered those early days of the Imperium.
'They debated whether we should have an eagle and thunderbolts as our insignia.' Ushotan mused to himself. 'Some thought it wasn't fitting, that it sent the wrong message… Fools.'
"CATAEGIS!" Arik Taranis's voice boomed. "SALUTATIO MILITARIS!"
'They thought this Imperium was meant to build something.' Ushotan thought to himself as he saluted the Emperor with his brothers. 'That the Imperium was meant to recover and restore this blasted planet. They said an eagle only builds its own eerie, and that storms only bring destruction.'
He laughed silently as he watched the Emperor. 'The Emperor made no mistake with his insignia.'
That was why he made them this way. That was why he killed the weak and unworthy for the Emperor.
And that was why the Emperor's recent actions angered him and his fellow Cataegis.
'You made us.' Ushotan thought as his eyes fixated on the Emperor's chiseled features. 'Use us.'
Empires can only exist when there are wars to win, lands to take, and endless expansion to distract the populace. How else would one unify a single polity composed of so many different parts? Class. Culture. Race. Creed. The Imperium had not eliminated those divisions. It only focussed their efforts on their shared enemies.
Thus, the day the Imperium ran out of enemies was the day it would start to die. It would cannibalize itself, just like the organs of the Thunder Warriors themselves.
'Use us.' Ushotan willed towards the Emperor. 'If there are no more enemies, we will make them for you. Rebels, dissidents, guerrillas, it will not matter. We will crush them endlessly, keeping the impossible goal of unity on this planet alive and well for eternity.'
Ushotan watched the Emperor open his mouth…
"The Unification Wars are over."
With those words, Ushotan's world broke.
—-------------------------------------------------
Rylanor watched the Legiones Cataegis all freeze at once, then begin to tremble. He could see the millimeter vibrations rumbling across them, as they struggled to remain frozen in the saluting position.
"Unity has not yet been achieved." The Emperor continued, and Rylanor saw some of the Cataegis recover from their initial shock. Most were still trembling with emotion, but a few had stilled, listening quizzically to the Emperor's words.
"However, the level of resistance has decreased to the point it is no longer worth calling a war." The Emperor continued. "All regions of Terra bar one have begun the process of diplomatic alignment with the Lex Imperialis. Soon, they too will become part of the Imperium through legislation and trading treaties."
This was not what the Cataegis wanted to hear. This was not what they expected of the Emperor.
"I say this to you ahead of all my other servants as a reward for your service, and to inform you of your options from now on."
Rylanor saw Arik Taranis perk up at this. Out of all the Cataegis, he alone had not expressed any emotion at the Emperor's words. However, it was not due to a lack of emotion, or apathy.
'He is a survivor.' Rylanor thought to himself.
Arik Taranis was one of the first Cataegis ever created. That meant he had lived through over 6 centuries of war on the front lines with his constantly degrading body.
'A living Ship of Theseus.' That was how Rylanor would describe the man. Cataegis required constant replacement of their organs to continue functioning. Ordinarily these would be supplied by the Medicae attached to their Legiones. However, on the field, such replenishments could not be relied on. In those situations, the Cataegis relied on the closest source of organs, namely each other. Dead or critically wounded Cataegis would have their organs recycled into the ones who were still alive.
Thus, for a Cataegis as ancient as Arik Taranis, it was almost a guarantee that there was nothing left of his original body.
This man had neither shame, nor fear, nor ambition. All he cared about was survival.
"Amar Astarte has found a solution for your ailments." The Emperor continued. "The mutations you have lived with can be healed with her treatment. With them, you can continue serving me if you wish to do so. However, the Legiones Cataegis will be disbanded. You will all be reassigned to the new Legions behind me, depending on your aptitude and progression of your treatment."
The Emperor paused again before continuing.
"For those of you who wish not to serve me any longer, there is a plan for your dischargement. We have projects that will transfer your mind to a new body. A body that will have both your ailments and your enhancements removed. The Imperium will provide you with options for retraining and education, as well as a permanent monthly pension that you may use as you wish."
There were no cries of joy, no whoops of celebration, no sighs of relief that came with the completion of a job.
Instead, Rylanor felt a murderous rage leaking out from the Cataegis, locked into the saluting position. He looked at his brothers and fellow Legions, and noticed some had placed their hands on the bolter and chain blades attached to their belt.
However, the Custodes did not react at all to the hostility radiating before them, and neither did the Emperor.
"Although I have never led you directly on the battlefield, know that I was satisfied with what you did and shall not reprimand you for your actions. Still, I can no longer allow you to serve as you have. Are there any among you who have issues with my terms?" The Emperor finished his speech with a question. There was a deathly silence. Common sense stated there was no disagreeing with the Emperor. As the ones sent after those who did, the Legiones Cataegis understood this the best.
"Good." The Emperor nodded. "Then-"
"I do!" A single bitter voice rose up from the Cataegis's ranks.
The Emperor turned in its direction.
"Then come before me and voice your grievances, primarch Ushotan." He said.
There was no surprise the Emperor knew Ushotan's name. Each primarch was handpicked by him out of the rank and file. However, the Cataegis eyed him warily. They knew their maker was not a foolish man, and he knew the value of theatrics as a good tyrant would. This interruption had been expected, if not planned for. They would wait for the moment, to see how the Emperor intended to let things play out.
The primarch of the 4th Legiones marched out from the line behind Arik Taranis. Fists and jaw clenched, his entire posture screamed his insolence. He knew he was playing a role in the Emperor's script, but the emotions he felt were not changed by this fact. The betrayal, disappointment, and rage he felt were not for show.
Ushotan stepped onto the invisible stage between the multi-colored Legions and bronze Legiones Cataegis. The Emperor turned towards Ushotan, so both had only their sides pointing to the spectators.
"You took me from my family." Ushotan said slowly. "Your gene-sculptors carved me up. They took out my insides and replaced them with what you needed to turn a boy into a monster. Yet, through all of that, I harbored no hatred towards you. You were strong. My tribe was weak. That was all the explanation I needed. I have butchered thousands upon thousands of techno-barbarians in your name for that same reason. Their blood wets my blade for your sake, for your strength. It is because you were greater than all others that you deserved to rule them."
Emotion entered Ushotan's voice in earnest, and his lips pulled back in a bared teeth grimace.
"But, you wavered. You made peace with the fools at Albia, and now seek to make alliances with Merica and Hy-Brasil." The Cataegis spat out the names of the two regions of Terra with venom. "I know what they do to their own children there. I have seen how they treat their people. What makes them so different to all the others we have slaughtered in your name! What gives them the right to live while those others died!"
The Emperor did not reply.
The Mericans harvested their own children for spare organs, and the immortality they gained from that created a kleptocratic society that focussed all wealth towards the already wealthy.
Hy-Brasil was ruled by Dalmoth Kyn, another psyker dictator who ruled with an iron fist, and jealously guarded the boons of Terra's last rainforests.
The people who ruled these polities were no better than the countless other techno-barbarians Ushotan and his brothers had slain. To welcome them into the Imperium was an insult to not only the Cataegis, but the people they killed as well.
"You were a just master once. You spared no one, and handed down the punishment for disobedience equally. Now look at you! You spend your time politicking with weaklings and cowards no different than the sniveling sycophants you had me slay! And for what?! To restore some veneer of ancient civility on this blasted rock?!"
Rylanor placed a hand on one of his brother's shoulders, gently holding him back. The man noticed that he had unconsciously stepped forwards, and gave an appreciative nod to Rylanor before stepping back into position. Rylanor saw similar movements taking place amongst the IIIrd and VIIth Legion. They were the most protective of the Emperor's honor. He did not hold it against his brother, or the other Legions, for he too bristled at the accusation. However, the Emperor had called them all for a reason. Just like when he sent the Cataegis to climb the Alpine Scarps, there was a message being made here.
"Was it the slaughtering of the 'civilians' that made us inferior to these usurpers?" Ushotan waved a hand towards the Legions, drawing glares from them. "Those serfs and slaves are as guilty as the tyrants and mind-mutants they belonged to!" The Cataegis primarch shouted. "Through their labor, they built the weapons those tyrants used. Through their obedience, they let their leaders gain unlimited power! Just because they do not pick up a gun or sword makes them no less culpable than the raiders and slavers they fed, clothed, and serviced! So what if they scream! So what if they beg! Even the world's most despicable deviant will grovel to save his life! Likewise, their pleas for forgiveness entitles them to nothing."
Ushotan's tone calmed down, but the bitterness inside it was audibly black.
"There are no innocents in war. Every single one of them was a cog in the machine. The only thing separating them from soldiers is that they never learned to fight. If I am a monster made to kill men and women, then I shall kill them all equally. No mercy. No forgiveness. No remorse. The fairness of the strong against the weak."
Ushotan took a step towards the Emperor.
"I am a weapon. The only one I will be loyal to is the one that wields me. You were the one. You were the one who told me who to kill. You were the one being I was loyal to. Now, you have discarded us. You have discarded me. What am I supposed to do now when there is a tyrant in front of me who acts just like all the others I have slain?"
There was a deathly silence at the Cataegis threat. Only the Custodes and the Emperor seemed unaffected by it.
"You wish to test me, Ushotan?" The Emperor asked calmly.
"If you are just a tyrant, like all the others squabbling wretches you had me kill in the name of unity, then I will do what a great man once made me to do."
There was an electric crackle as Ushotan pulled his broadsword free.
The Emperor made a backwards motion to his hand, and his Custodes stepped away from him. "You know what will happen if you defy me." He said softly, yet somehow loud enough that all in the Legions and Legiones could hear.
"Then make an example of me." Ushotan spat as he lowered his stance, preparing to strike.
"Do you do this to convince your brothers?" The Emperor asked, tone utterly calm despite the threat of rebellion before him.
"They will draw their own conclusions." Ushotan snorted. "I only wish to see you returned to what you were. A just dictator who laid down the law upon all others equally. A king who knew what it would take to break the back of all resistance. An Emperor with no mercy, no restraint, no limits."
The Emperor closed his eyes, then nodded.
"Very well. Come." He said as he stared back calmly into Ushotan's face. "I will use you, Ushotan, to show you all how little you understand of why I made you." The Cataegis appeared confused for a moment, unsure of what the Emperor meant. "You think I made you because I needed weapons. You are much more and much less than that."
*DZZZZRRRR-!
Ushotan's broadsword crackled as he struck at the Emperor, blind with rage.
He had no delusions that he could defeat the Emperor. He would most likely die for his disobedience, but he did not fear death. He was already a dead man walking. From the day he was taken from his family, he had been living with a bomb in his body. He has seen many others like him explode as their own muscles tore them open. He had seen friends fall to the ground dead mid-sentence without warning.
He was a mass-murderer. He remembered the various men and women he had cut apart with his blade. When the battle lust ended and the red cleared from his mind, he could remember each and every face. At first, the only way he could stop the nightmares was by telling himself that this was what the Emperor had made him to do.
A weapon does not cry. A weapon does not regret. A weapon only kills, and he had done a lot of that. Once he had come to that realization, what reservations did he have about enjoying what he did? He served his purpose, and what tool does not enjoy doing what it was created to do?
That was the conclusion he reached under those purple clouds in the ruins of the castle of Maulland Sen. He started laughing when he realized that, staring up at the falling red snow as his body burned with adrenaline and ecstasy.
'After all of that, what right do you have to say I could have been better?'
Time seemed to stop still, endlessly elongated by his enhanced neurons and synapses. His mind spent the processing power it would usually use to make more complicated attacks with decoding the Emperor's last words.
'I kill because that is what I was made to do. If that was not my purpose, then what was it all for?'
The deaths.
The pain.
The fear of keeling over dead, or being torn apart from the inside at any moment.
All of it.
Why? What was it all for?
Ushotan's plasma enclosed blade slowed to a stop as his mind went into an existential spiral.
Neither he nor the Emperor moved, as if frozen in time.
Then the Emperor took a step forward.
Ushotan's eyes tried to widen, unable to understand what was going on, but the muscles would not move. Nothing moved except the Emperor. Even the sparks of crimson plasma on his broadsword were frozen mid-flight like forks of lightning.
"You are not just a weapon." The Emperor said softly. "You were my messengers, my angels to a divided Terra. The fact that the contents of that message were violent and bloody was unfortunate, but that is a fact of life here. This world ruled by lords, priests, kings, and tyrants offers few avenues for unity. Raw power is the only thing that can crush their pride with fear. Only then could they be shaken out of their self-aggrandizing traditions and beliefs. I spared Albia, Europa and all the others because there are differences between them and the ones I had you exterminate. They are cruel out of incompetence, sloth, perversion, or greed. They turn a blind eye to the suffering they cause, minimizing it as the sufferings of the plebian. They are mundane and base in their evil. The same cannot be said for those like the Priest-King and the Overlord of Ursh. They are an entirely different breed of evil. They cannot be taught the error of their ways. They cannot be cowed. They cannot be bargained with. The only unity they can accept is the shared silence of the grave."
Ushotan listened to the Emperor, slowly beginning to accept the surreal experience.
'And the Pan-Pacific? What of them?' He asked. 'They only wished to be left alone.'
"At that time, they did." The Emperor nodded. "After failing for centuries to win the war they started with the Yndonesic Bloc… After their own failed attempt at unity that extended over the ice wastes of the Arctic all the way to Albia… After seeing Ursh burn and the Cataegis on the horizon… They finally sued for peace. Yet, by then too much blood had been spilled. The blood debt was too heavy to be forgotten."
'Then the Imperium broke the Pan-Pacific Empire to satisfy politics.' Ushotan countered, using words that took away the Emperor's artistic veneer upon events. 'They were the enemy that allowed common ground to be built amongst lands as far apart as the Yndonesic Bloc and Albia. That was the only reason it had to burn. They were the scapegoat to bring together bitter enemies and indifferent parties. A sacrifice for your unity. A sacrifice to grow your empire. A sacrifice that will have to be repeated again and again if you are to hold your grip on power.'
"Do you hate me for that?"
The Emperor tilted his head, and his long dark raven hair took a second to catch up with his movements. The locks of hair floated behind him, as if he were moving through water. Ushotan could not help but notice that in the moment. Despite all his anger and disappointment, the Emperor was still beautiful.
'I am a weapon.' Ushotan replied. 'What I feel matters little so long as I am used, and I have seen the worst the animals that call themselves humans have to offer.'
'I saw it on the battlefield.'
'I saw it when we cut into prison camps of techno-barbarians.'
'I saw it when we stormed into the meat-larders of cannibals and cultists.'
'I saw it in the eyes of mechanical monsters operated with brains harvested from the poor and the young.'
'I saw it in the vacant stares of those we found in the basement crypts where priests and lords kept other humans as pets and pleasure items.'
'I saw it in the fearful stares of all those who knew what I knew, seen what I had seen, and did nothing to stop it. Those sniveling civilians, serfs, and slaves served their masters right up to the point we finally defeated them.'
'I killed all of them. No matter how hard they screamed, or their excuses for why they allowed such atrocities to happen, I killed them.'
'That is why you need us, Emperor. Your Imperium has many fitting the description of the foes I slew for you. They will be the new sacrifices used to hold the Imperium together. Rebellion. Corruption. Insolence. GIve us a reason, and we will pile their heads at your feet, water your lands with their blood.'
'Innocent, guilty, good, evil. All words with the same meaningless definition. There is only the strong and the weak. The powerful and the powerless. Muddling the two together brings about indecisiveness and imperfection. That is not something I can stand to watch happen to you. Burn down the cities of Albia. Break the guilds of the Yndonesic Bloc. Rule as an Emperor should, for when an Empire runs out of true enemies, the only way to keep it together is to make new ones for eternity.'
There was a long pause within that single instance of stopped time, then Ushotan thought-spoke again.
'If you wanted us to be messengers or angels, then you chose poorly. I neither knew of nor understood what you wanted us to say or symbolize. All I was made to do was hate the enemy, kill the disobedient, and help you rule by fear of retribution.'
"The origin story of every empire is watered with blood." The Emperor nodded. "That is how it has been for humanity since time immemorial. However, what begins with blood need not grow with it. But… you and your brothers cannot be swayed by words. You have seen too much, and I have not led you for a long time."
Ushotan grimaced.
The Emperor did not lead the Cataegis. It was Valdor and the Custodes who ordered them around. The Emperor was too busy mollycoddling the unenhanced soldiers who could only cower without him. The feeble wretches were worthless in Ushotan's eyes. All they did was slow them down and drain their resources. Why the Emperor even bothered with them when he could make more Cataegis from their children was a mystery to him.
"You and your brothers are not weapons." The Emperor said again. "I have no need for weapons at all."
The Emperor stood back, moving freely within frozen time. The sand jumped around his feet, then froze mid-air like splashes of water in a still-frame photo of a skipping stone bouncing across a pond.
A chill went through Ushotan, finally understanding how insane the situation was. This was no hallucination or illusion. Reality itself had bent to the Emperor's will.
'What…' Ushotan started to speak only for the Emperor to interrupt his thoughts.
"My plans require an Imperium built by humanity's own hands. Even if I am the one who gives the orders, humanity must be the one to understand and carry them out." He said as he stepped towards Ushotan. "Once again, I will say it. I have no need for weapons."
The Emperor smiled briefly, then walked past Ushotan.
*RRRRT- KRAKOOOOM!
The sound of the crackling plasma returned, only to be interrupted by a sonic boom.
Ushotan stumbled forwards, completing his lunge, striking only empty air.
For a few moments, there was only the sound of the broadsword's plasma field held in Ushotan's shaking hand.
The primarch of the Iron Lords turned back towards the Emperor, the man who had stopped time itself just to talk to him; a single cog in the Emperor's already vast armies.
Armies that perhaps weren't even necessary.
"Who do you serve, Ushotan?" The Emperor's voice came from behind him, and the primarch turned in its direction. He saw the Emperor's cape covered back, turned towards him completely open and utterly vulnerable.
Ushotan's fingers relaxed, and the plasma field dissipated from his sword. He stabbed the thick blade into the sand as he got down on one knee.
"I am Ushotan, 4th primarch of the Iron Lords and eternal servant to the Imperium of Man and its Emperor."
The Emperor nodded and turned towards the other Cataegis who had seen what had happened. Each and every one of the Thunder Warrior knelt as the Emperor's eyes passed over them.
"You have all lost your way and mistaken my meaning." The Emperor's voice boomed as he spoke to all of them. "As penance, you will surrender control of all forts and garrisons to the Imperial Army and Legions behind me over the next 2 years. They will take over the defense of the Imperium's holdings in your stead. Once that is done, the entire Legiones Cataegis will gather at the base of Mt. Urartu. This will all be overseen by the IIIrd Legion. This responsibility is given to them for their performance during the Antarctic Clearance. Their ability to work with and command the standard forces of the Imperium should allow a seamless transfer of power from the Cataegis."
The Cataegis kept their heads bowed, despite their demotion. The removal of responsibility and standing was a great shaming. Yet, they did not shake with anger like they did when forced to bow before the leaders of Albia.
"Once the Cataegis have done this successfully, I personally will lead the final battle against Mr. Urartu and the Ethnarchy hiding behind them."
There was a slight stirring, not from the Cataegis, but the newer Legions. To be led by the Emperor himself was an honor beyond measure. To show such favoritism for the failed Legiones Cataegis was surprising.
"Over the centuries, I have had you fight many battles. Yet, I have not led you once." The Emperor spoke to his Cataegis. "Thus, it is not surprising that you have lost your way. This is a failure both on your part, and in mine. This is my penance to you."
The Cataegis bowed their heads, silently accepting the Emperor's words.
"I leave the rest to you, Valdor." The Emperor said, turning to his Captain-General. "Begin the transferral of command from you to the IIIrd Legion."
"As you will, my Emperor." Valdor saluted and took center stage.
The Emperor returned to the Stormbird with the other two Custodes as Valdor began to call the Cataegis Primarchs and Arik Taranis forward as well as the highest ranking IIIrd Legion members.
—-------------------------------------------------
Ushotan watched the Emperor's Stormbird fly off into the sky. His heart trembled and blood rushed as he remembered the awe he felt before his maker.
The Emperor was no tyrant. He was no man. That truly was…
Ushotan stilled his trembling fingers and spotted a different Cataegis also clenching his fist to still a similar tremor.
They knew what they had witnessed defied all reason. No mere man freezes time, and such a being has no need for armies or empires.
Ushotan turned his eyes towards the new Legions, and saw them standing blankly to attention. Fury made him see red in that moment, and he clenched his teeth to bite back the hateful roar that had built up inside him.
They didn't know what they had witnessed. They had not seen the Emperor stop time. All they saw was him move inexplicably fast, and that was it. So base were their reaction speeds in comparison to theirs, they had not been able to process the miracle before them.
'Blind dullards.' Ushotan cursed them internally, then proceeded towards the doll-like Valdor to discuss how best to organize the changing of the guard.
His eye then noticed one of the IIIrd Legion approaching them clenching his fist, stifling the same awe inspired tremor the Cataegis felt.
'Perhaps there are some that are worthy…' Ushotan thought to himself, then turned his mind to focus on the task at hand.
—-------------------------------------------------
Rylanor had not heard what the Emperor said, nor had any of the Cataegis. Those words were for Ushotan and Ushotan alone.
Yet, he had heard the words right before that, as well as seen the miracle that happened immediately after.
He had gotten the message, just as he had gotten the message when the Emperor made his Thunder Warriors cross the Alpine Scarps.
'I saw the Emperor appear in two places at once.' Rylanor remembered the nanosecond instance his enhanced eyes and reflexes had captured. 'His image moved from where he was to where he had been. Invisible footsteps in the sand were traced by his feet, but it was only when his present self met his past that reality restored itself.'
Rylanor understood what the Emperor had done. He had not moved so fast that he was a blur. If he had, the order of events would have been from past to future. Rylanor would have seen the Emperor stepping first, and then the disturbed sand. Yet, that was not what Rylanor saw.
The Emperor was before Ushotan, and behind him at the same time. Sand splashes made by armored boots appeared in mid-air, but they only began to fall once the image of the Emperor's current position backtracked through them to meet his past self. When the two selves met, the past Emperor faded and all the events occurred at once. That was the cause of the sonic boom, for it was at that moment the air had finally realized something had moved through it.
A man who can stop time has no enemies. No bullet or bomb could hit them, and no barrier or shield could stop them. Armies would mean nothing, and resistance was impossible.
So, why would such a being need an army? Why would such a being need weapons like them?
Rylanor could not find a logical answer sufficient enough to explain it. They all relied on drawing imaginary limits around a power he had never even known the Emperor had.
"You think I made you because I needed weapons." The Emperor had said. "You are much more and much less than that."
'What are you, Emperor?' Rylanor asked internally as he walked, stifling the tremor in his fingers by clenching his fist. 'What do you want with us?'
He felt a long-forgotten feeling, back when he was just a noble child in Europa, back when he still went to church and prayed.
'Why god?' He had once prayed. 'Why did you make me? What do you want from us?'
Rylanor shook his head, trying to regain control of himself.
There was no god. That was what the Imperial Truth preached.
Yet, he could not stop the feeling of rapture that had begun to sneak out of a long-forgotten door in his memories.
A/N: Explanation for the Emperor's actions takes place next chapter.