Antony in Warhammer 40K - Chpt 5 [English - US]
Antony in Warhammer 40K [English - US]
Description:
Antony in Warhammer 40K is a small fanfic series, created by Antony Bindilatti with inspiration from some crossovers of several film series, series and games with Warhammer 40K – created by Rick Priestley and Andy Chambers from Games Workshop.
The story focuses on young Antony – the protagonist of Antony's Triviality; on just another ordinary day, until he finds a dimensional portal with energies that are strange to his world. However, something caught his attention to the point of investigating the other side. To the hero's surprise, he embarks on a journey to a completely different universe, in which Earth was a planet full of several megacities and rudimentary technology, at the same time advanced for its era; and human civilization – known as the Imperium of Men; followed an austere religious military doctrine that despised everything that was not part of the Imperium, such as aliens, mutants and heretics, declaring total war on these beings.
And to complete the unpleasant surprise, Antony discovers that his powers and abilities have disappeared, in which he needs to fight not only for survival but also to find a way to return to his universe and cut the connection with that world.
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Chapter 5
Everything seemed to have turned into a horror show with the arrival ofKhozan, the bald man from the Imperial labor camp of Dallos IV. Antony's heart raced with fear, his eyes widened in horror at the man's presence. The room's atmosphere grew colder and more sinister.
“I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other,” the bald man said, extending his left hand to Antony. “I'm Khozan.”
“What do you want from me?” asked the frightened boy.
“I'm sorry you're scared. I'm here to extend my invitation.”
“In-invitation?”
“To be part of our cause. As you know, we were all rescued to this colony on Dallos IV. But we are, for the most part, prisoners in the eyes of the Imperium of Man, and most of the time we are persecuted. This place is our penance, the pen for the Imperials to imprison us.”
Antony's expression remained the same as before. Khozan's words instilled a certain fear in him regarding that universe, the beings that inhabit it, the Empire, and the officers who serve it.
“Okay. And where do I fit into this?!” he asked Khozan, crossing his arms and extending his left hand, unaware of the plans the Chaos devotees had for Antony.
“Your arrival was somewhat sudden, but the Gods are aware of you.”
“The Gods?”
“Yes. The Chaos Gods, who inhabit the Warp.” Khozan replied.
In response, the bald man raised his left arm, revealing the rest of the tattoo: a sort of eight-pointed star.
“This is their symbol. The mark of the Ruinous Powers.”
Antony's fears were finally realized. The man was a cultist and an agent of Chaos, living among the refugees and prisoners of that colony. Khozan sensed the boy's fright at this revelation.
“There's no need to be scared. After all, the Gods have visited you in your thoughts and dreams. They offered you divine gifts if you chose to be part of one of them,” said the bald guy, covering his tattoo with his sleeve.
////
While Khozan visited young Antony in the camp's hospital room, a meeting was held in a remote area of the planet. Red lights emanated from the flames. Blood flowed from boiling pits, bubbling as it boiled. Bodies were impaled and placed on black steel bars. The symbol of Khorne was visible to all in the courtyard.
In the center of the place, Björn, the cult leader, addressed the other cultists, drums beating loudly and violently. Polearms banged their pommels against the ground. Most of the cultists chanted Khorne's name, crying out, “Blood for the Blood God!”
Then everyone stopped as the leader raised his right arm high in the air.
“My brothers, Khorne has spoken! His armies will march upon this world, bringing death and destruction to the servants of the False Emperor!”
The cultists greeted with loud shouts and sounds towards the words spoken by Björn, shaking his weapons.
“As many already know, we have a traveler from a known world, yet one untainted by the Emperor's influence! Khorne is aware of him, as Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Slaanesh are. And it is our duty to bring him to our cause through one of our devotees in the Imperial camp!”
Again, screams rang out loudly throughout the courtyard of somber rites dedicated to the Blood God.
“With the boy on our side, we can exert our influence on his world, drenching Earth and countless other planets in the blood of all who oppose us! Blood for the Blood God!”
All the cultists chanted the same phrase as Björn: “Blood for the Blood God!” The drums rang out like thunder. Weapons slammed into the ground, creating cracks and throwing dust into the air. The men who had willingly surrendered themselves to the Blood God, ritual murders being performed at the edge of a pit filled with blood.
Each hooded man, covering his face and walking half-naked in a line to the extremities, had his neck or entrails slashed with a ceremonial dagger, and was thrown lifeless into the pit by Björn's servants. Bodies rose to the surface, floating motionless. They merely floated, their lives taken. The remaining men who had come from the camp celebrated with sacrifices to Khorne.
////
Back at camp, Antony and Khozan stood there, staring at each other. Antony, the boy who came from Earth through a Warp Gate, whose powers and abilities were lost in the journey to this universe. Khozan, a detainee implicated in murders, violations of Imperial property, and other unsavory acts committed against people.
His gaze and presence caused a certain panic in the young Earth hero. However, his declaration of allegiance as a devoted agent of Chaos and his invitation for Antony to join them was already a sign that he needed to be wary of these people.
“Join you?” Antony asked, still maintaining his reclusive posture.
“Yes, Antony. To be part of our group. As I told you, this place is our penance. Here, we are forgotten,” Khozan replied, taking a step forward. And then another. Antony stared at him, sometimes stepping back a little.
“What has the Emperor done for us while we give our sweat, blood, and suffering? Nothing. We prayed to him, but no answer. We have been forgotten by Him.”
Then the bald guy stopped walking. He was three steps away from the boy, with only the bed between them.
“Only the Chaos Gods answered our prayers. And they promised us their gifts if we surrender our lives to them.”
Beads of sweat dripped down Antony's forehead as she listened to his words. He was swallowing hard when the images of Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Slaanesh returned. As did their speeches.
“Weapons of war and worlds conquered.” He remembered Khorne's speech, showing young Antony the image of him as a champion of war, guiding armies through a landscape devastated by fire and slaughter.
“Overwhelming power and supreme knowledge.” he remembered Tzeentch's speech, showing the image of the hero as the most powerful sorcerer under his orders.
“Eternal life and free of pain.” he remembered Nurgle's speech, showing the image of the hero as an immortal creature, yet putrid and full of plagues, surviving even in extremely cruel environments.
“Unending riches and insatiable pleasures.” he remembered Slaanesh's speech, showing the hero in a hall surrounded by treasures, half-naked women and incense that trapped him in a kind of trance and stupor, as if he were under the influence of drugs.
All of this came at a price. Surrendering oneself to one of the four Chaos Gods meant selling one's soul, receiving all their powers and gifts, along with a sort of curse and side effect. However, one would spend eternity in utter servitude.
Even though he didn't have the powers of a paladin, Antony refused.
“Look, Khozan. I really appreciate the invitation and all. But I can't accept it.”
“And why not? Think carefully about your choice! The Chaos Gods could give you the powers you once had before you came to this place. And even take you back to your world without any problems or regrets.”
Hearing the part about him being able to return home if he chose to accept Khozan's invitation to join Chaos, his eyebrows rose, his eyes widening with a spark of hope. However, he was still hesitant to accept.
////
A little way from the place where the rituals were being performed, Dolores, Rachel, Clara, and Danubia sneaked in, watching the carnage unfold with unholy intentions. For the canoness, this was a clear affront to everything created in the name of the Emperor of Mankind.
“Traitors! Heretics!” Dolores said softly, watching the ritual dedicated to Khorne. “I want to see them all in the purifying flame!”
Clara leaned against the hill with the Flamer in her hands. Rachel held the heavy Bolter, standing a little way off. Danubia was on her left.Dolores, keeping the Bolter in his hand.
“There are so many of them, ma'am,” Clara said, astonished at the number of cultists from the Imperial camp. “I can't believe the entire colony has turned to Chaos.”
“Wherever they came from, our orders are clear. We must exterminate those heretics before new Chaos sects are formed!” the canoness said to the squad. Rachel, Clara, and Danubia shook their heads.
With nothing more to say, the canoness let out a scream, causing her companions to leap, their weapons spewing fire at the cultists. Bolter projectiles explode on impact, whether direct or not. Body parts flew in various directions as a result of the detonations: heads, arms, legs, abdomens, and ribs. The cultists were devoid of any physical protection, making them easy targets for the Sisters of Battle.
Björn watched with scorn and resentment. He extended his left hand, holding a bloody dagger, toward them.
“Battle Sisters! Kill them, my brothers!”
The cultists raised their weapons, shouting in courage to face Dolores' group. Even withfewLasguns, they risked their lives in the name of Khorne.
Clara pulled the trigger of her Flamer, unleashing a jet of intense fire at the groups of armed men who came to kill her. Their screams of pain as they burned echoed in her ears, twisting themselves in her eyes. But she showed them no mercy.
Rachel, Danubia, and Dolores opened fire with their Bolters, protecting their colleague's rear. The speed of the heavy Bolter's projectiles sent the cultists into a panic, with most trying to run for their lives. But it was futile. Rachel struck at the unfortunates, watching their bodies disintegrate into shreds of flesh. Cartridges from the weapons bore the inscription: “Death to the traitors! Death to the heretics!” They fell, bouncing to the ground with a bit of post-detonation kinetic energy from the firing pin.
“Come, sisters! These impure and heretics deserve to die!” Dolores shouted as she held the trigger of her gun. In an instant, a cultist tried to ambush her, only to be torn in half with a chainsaw sword.
The numbers of men who turned to Chaos dwindled. Most of them perished in the face of their tremendous firepower. Few attempted to respond with Lasguns, but instead joined the pile of bodies of the fallen for sacrifice. A small group ran toward a heavy machine gun to defuse the situation.
Seeing this unfold, Dolores removed a white phosphorus grenade from her belt—a weapon with highly reactive components that are dangerous when handled improperly, and can cause serious injuries that can lead to death. She triggered it to detonate, throwing it toward the enemy's weapon. As she did so, the cultists felt their bodies engulfed in flames, writhing in pain. Then, the machine gun's ammunition boxes exploded, taking their lives in the process.
The cult leader watched from the courtyard as the confrontation spiraled out of control. More than half of Khorne's devotees died at the hands of the Empire's warriors. Even as more blood was offered to the Blood God, the tide was turning against Björn. And in the midst of the conflict, the cultists began to flee, dropping their weapons on the ground.
“Run! It's every man for himself!” shouted a dark-haired cultist, running with his hands in the air.
“They're very powerful!” shouted another, carrying belts studded with metal spikes. This one, unfortunately for him, was killed by a Bolter shot.
Björn roared in rage, seeing that the few survivors began to flee, due to the firepower of the Sisters of Battle, which demoralized them, losing the ability to fight.
“No! Ignore that order! Stay where you are!” Björn shouted, drawing a Laspistol and opening fire on the survivors in the same way the commissars would have done to the demoralized guardsmen.
As the Sisters advanced with their weapons, Dolores spotted the Khorne cult leader, gritting her teeth with resentment at him for luring the camp's men onto his tail. She ran toward Björn, brandishing the chainsaw sword in her left hand and aiming the Bolter with her right. The shots ripped through the remaining cultists, leaving limbs missing and chunks of flesh flying everywhere.
Björn sent two sect guards toward Dolores. They carried halberds with chainsaw-like axe blades, wore red hoods with metal spikes, and wore metal shoulder pads and boots. Their arms, chest, and legs were bare, revealing partially tanned skin. Unlike the others, they had the appearance of muscular men, whose height and strength were inhuman. They advanced with their heavy weapons to meet the canoness.
Dolores dodged the first halberd attack, turning to his right, the blade of her chainsword plunging into the Khorne guard's abdomen, ripping it open while it was still active. She then leaped over him, slashing deeply into his back. The other guard lunged forward with an impaling blow, missing his target due to Dolores' incredible agility and the combat tactics honed by years of war and Inquisition. She delivered several blows to the arm and leg, severing it below the knee. This brought the monster to its knees, allowing the canoness to aim the Bolter at its head, blowing it apart with the pull of the trigger.
With the path clear for Björn, Dolores ran with all her might, leaping toward him, his form filling her vision. Björn raised his Laspistol, his finger poised to pull the trigger. As he had the woman in his sights, the sect leader felt something run down his left arm. Something that caused immeasurable pain. His left hand had been destroyed by a Bolter shot. It came from Danubia's weapon.
Björn held his hand tightly, trying to stop the bleeding, screaming in pain combined with the frenzy of battle. And to top it all off, the woman coming toward him landed with both her boots on his face, knocking him to the rocky ground, hitting his head so hard that he fractured it.
The man tried to get up, but was stopped by a footstep.Dolores in the nose. He tried to raise his right hand, but was stopped by his other boot. The canoness lowered herself a little, crouching down so she could question Björn.
“Are there more of you here on this planet who have turned to Chaos?!” Dolores asked in a harsh, cold tone.
Björn tried to get up, but the strength of Dolores' right leg was exerted, making him lie on the floor.
“Speak, heretic!”
Björn struggled to speak. He coughed as blood trickled out of his left hand and head.
“You think you've won by taking down this group. But you're wrong,” Björn replied, coughing as he stared into her eyes.
Dolores stared at her prisoner. She expressed disgust mixed with a kind of xenophobic and religious resentment toward those who are not human, especially those who have strayed from the Empire of Man.
“Many of us… are scattered across this planet. And… there are those who still reside in that place.”
“What place?!” Dolores asked, pressing Björn's face to the ground. Danubia and the others approached the canoness, their weapons drawn.
“The camp.”
Hearing that, the younger sister was frightened.
“Antony.” Her speech caught everyone's attention.Dolores, with an expression to keep quiet. Then they heard Björn speak.
“The boy from Terra… is in good company. I asked my… servant to invite him to our… cause.”
“Do whatever you want, that boy is under our supervision!” Dolores said, closing her eyes and pressing hard, holding the leader's breath.
“It's no use, Canoness. The Chaos Gods know he's here. Sooner or later, he will… give in. He will join us. Just as his world… will give in. And your Emperor… will not BE BORN!” Björn replied, spitting blood in Dolores's face, momentarily blinding her as he laughed.
In response, the canoness stood up, pointing the Bolter at Björn's face, pulling the trigger several times. His body shook from the shots' shockwaves. The other warriors watched as the canoness inflicted the execution on the man devoted to Chaos. The weapon's cartridges fell to the ground, bouncing until they lost their momentum. What remained was only a dead body, its head and left hand destroyed by gunfire.
Dolores climbed off Björn's body, wiping the blood from her face. She looked at the body with scorn, emptying the magazine and inserting a new one to reload the gun.
“Damn you!” Dolores said, finishing cleaning herself. “If they think they can do this kind of thing, they are committing the gravest heresy of all.”
“Your orders, ma'am?” Rachel asked, carrying the heavy Bolter.
“Inform Commissar Nikolos of this betrayal! Tell him to be careful with the inmates and protect Antony at all costs!” the canoness ordered, with Clara trying to call the camp through the Vox communicator.
The Flamer warrior heard only static from the main channel. She tried every other known channel. No response.
“Mistress, the Vox communicator is experiencing static. I can't reach the camp!”
“Blasted! They've cut off communications with the camp! These heretics are more organized than we thought.”
“What will we do?”
“Danubia, you and Clara go to the camp and assist the guards. Rachel and I will stay here! We need to make sure someone sets a beacon for the fleet to burn this place down!”
The youngest of the warriors agreed to the canoness's plan. There are no more servants of Khorne or from any other Chaos God to be cleansed, but the site still carries the taint on Dallos IV.
“Yes, ma'am,” Clara and Danubia replied, saying goodbye to Dolores and Rachel, running toward the camp as fast as they could, despite the great distance from where they were.
Dolores watched the two run away, guns drawn. With only Rachel left with her, she called her over to discuss a matter at hand.
“Tell me, Dolores. What happened?”
“Rachel, you know that boy's presence could be a bad omen. Inquisitor Val Merkutius's fleet would be arriving in a few moments. Until then, we must ensure the safety and integrity of the Empire,” Dolores replied, looking at the bloodstained floor.
“What are you suggesting? Do you believe Antony has anything to do with all this, even without the verdict to prove he's a heretic?”
“With Antony still under our supervision, it is our duty to ensure he doesn't leave the camp or risk death at our hands. But now, with the forces of Chaos aware of his presence, the security risk has increased.”
Rachel kept her gaze on the canoness as she held the heavy Bolter in both hands.
“If the Imperium is to prevail, Antony must die,” Dolores replied, looking at the warrior with the heavy weaponry. That widened Rachel's eyes.
“You have your orders, Rachel. Just like the others have.”
In response, the warrior pulled the bolt back to insert a new cartridge into the chamber.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Good. Prepare the beacon. I will contact the Inquisitor at this time. Let us pray to the Emperor that our communications with the Ecclesiarchy are not compromised by the wretches.”
Rachel nodded forward. She headed to the center of the chaotic site to set up a beacon. Dolores moved her right hand toward her earpiece, activating the Vox communicator.
////
Back at camp, the two men stood in the hospital room. Khozan extended his invitation to Antony, but Antony declined, his fears rising. The bald man looked serious, his shaved eyebrows furrowed, revealing several expressions of displeasure at Antony's response.
“Think carefully before making your choice. The Chaos Gods are generous to their worshippers. Any hesitation or refusal on your part could only mean trouble,” Khozan said, gesturing with his eyes and hands at Antony's response.
The boy in question remained silent, staring at the man as his courage grew. The fear faded, just as Antony's heartbeat slowed. The hand that had been shaking uncontrollably tightened again, drawing the fingers into the center of the palm.
“Look, Khozan. Your invitation even seems interesting enough to accept. But there's just one thing that's making me curious about it.”
Antony's eyes closed. The bald man kept his gaze fixed on him. The cold air of the room coursed through their bodies and arms, even though they showed no signs of hypothermia to the point of crossing their arms to warm their chests. Then Antony opened them again.
“What happened to those who refused to join the forces of Chaos?”
The question made by the hero from Earth left Khozan silent for a moment. He knew it would push him to the point of desperate measures.
“Antony, as always, you're curious. I figured you'd be the type to ask too many questions,” Khozan replied with a serious look and a false smile. “Alright. Since you want to know, I'll tell you what happens to the uninterested people in this camp.”
Antony paid attention to that man.
“This camp houses many followers of Khorne, the God of War and Blood. Many of us worship him with offerings of blood. Those who refused to join us were given a different role. We sacrificed them, offering their blood to Khorne.”
Hearing that, Antony's eyes widened in horror.
“And I bet you know what happened to your friend at the work camp.”
The boy had no friends in the dark world. But there was one man who had a moment of conversation during the meal at the labor camp, during which he convinced Antony not to throw away the thick broth prepared by the guards. His image and name ran through his mind like a bayonet blade piercing his brain from the side. Seeing Antony's frightened expression, Khozan smiled evilly.
“Geran? Wh-what did you do to him?!”
“Not me, Björn. He invited your friend to join our cause. But Geran proved too stubborn to accept it. Instead, he agreed to become an offering to Khorne.”
“When you say ‘offering to Khorne,’ you mean sacrificing him. Isn't that right?!” Antony asked, devastated by the news.
“In a way.”
Antony turned his face away, trying to muster the willpower not to show his feelings. Once again, Khozan invited him back.
“I come to you with the same invitation, once again. Will you join us as a devotee of Khorne, or as an offering of blood?”
Hearing this, Antony thought deeply about his friends and family, his home, and his oath as a champion of light and justice.
“I swore that I would never give my life to evil for anything. I would never give the lives of my friends or everything I have ever known for nefarious purposes. For I am a paladin. A defender of light and justice.”
Antony's face lifted, tears streaming from his eyes and his courage rising.
“For this reason I will stand by my decision, Khozan. I will never surrender to Chaos! Never!”
The hero's definitive answer silenced the devotee of Khorne. The invitation for Antony to join the group fell through. It was at that moment that his expression changed, and he raised his right hand to his back.
“I figured it would come to this,” said the bald man, pulling out a black-bladed dagger.
“What are you going to do?!” asked Antony, frightened to see the man preparing to murder him.
“You gave me no choice. I will finish you and deliver your blood and your head to Khorne!”
Khozan moved from one side of the bed to the other, with Antony trying to move in opposite directions. The man smiled sickly as he approached his target. Then the two collided, each trying to knock the other down. Antony pushed Khozan back, keeping his distance. The bald man, smiling as he held the dagger, struck Antony several times, one of them cutting his left arm. Antony cried out in pain, clutching the area to stem the bleeding.
Khozan laughed at the pain he inflicted on Antony. He opened his mouth, exposing his tongue to taste the red liquid dripping from the blade. Once again, he leaped toward the boy, unleashing more blows. Antony recovered from the wound, advancing with punches, kicks, and karate blocks, disarming his attacker and delivering a roundhouse kick that knocked him to the ground.
Antony assumed a defensive stance with his left knee bent forward and his right leg extended behind him, his guard raised to his chest. He watched the bald man gradually rise to his feet. His nose was bleeding slightly, and his closed hand wiped it away. Now reinvigorated, he rushed at Antony, retreating before unleashing several blows on Khozan. His head and body shook with each punch and kick. The last was a rear kick followed by a leap, knocking him to the icy ground.
The Earth's hero remained standing, his clothes stained with blood, dirt, and sweat. He watched his attacker struggle to recover from the kick. Khozan harbored bitter feelings for Antony. His red eyes, blood-covered mouth and nose, bruises, and projections on his face were evident in the boy's vision. Antony assumed a defensive posture, bracing for a new attack. All that changed when they heard the bedroom door open. And out of nowhere, Khozan's head exploded from behind. His body lost balance in the shockwave of the detonation, falling lifeless to the floor of the facility's hospital room.
Antony was startled by all this, but he saw the two Sororitas warriors emerge behind him. Danubia held the Bolter with her left hand, keeping it raised to her shoulder. She and Clara entered, the girl with short silver hair running toward Antony and the one with brown pageboy hair staying at the door.
“Antony, are you okay?” Danubia asked, helping Antony compose himself after the confrontation.
Antony received her care, with a kind of medicinal spray being applied to the cut on his arm.
“I'm fine. Thanks for saving me,” he replied, smiling at them. “Where are the others?”
“Rachel and Dolores stayed to burn down a site that was being used by Chaos cultists.”
“Lucky we came so quickly to rescue you,” Clara said, looking at the boy as she stood in the doorway.
Antony and Danubia followed the other warrior to the room's exit, seeing the imperial guardsman dead on the floor. There wasn't much they could do for him except retrieve a Laspistol from his holster.
“Khozan was pretty smart to want to go after you,” Clara said, holding up her Bolter.
“Looks like I became famous around here,” Antony replied, laughing at his joke.
“Antony, this is very serious. The agents of Chaos have manifested themselves among the men we rescued.”
“It's like cancer. When you least expect it, it spreads everywhere and it is difficult to remove, even with all of us together,” Danubia added, removing the handgun from his body.
“I get it.” The boy from Earth replied.
Danubia took the Laspistol to Antony, handing it to him. “You know how to shoot, right?” she asked.
“Yes. Pretty much,” he replied, holding the gun. Because of his familiarity with the device, he pointed it forward.
“Good. To load, you press this button to eject the magazine from the grip, and then insert a new magazine.” Danubia gave instructions on how to load the Laser pistol. Antony nodded forward, holding the new weapon.
“One more thing: Dolores asked us to stay close to you.”
“You are still under Imperial supervision. You are not authorized to go anywhere, no matter what,” Clara added.
Hearing that, the boy sighed in discontent. “Okay.”
“Very well. Let's go,” Danubia said, leading the small group ahead.
With that, the boy prepared to go with them. He held the Laspistol in his hand while they walked with Bolter guns, more destructive than the Laser gun.
////
On the way out, Danubia led the way, with Clara protecting the rear and Antony in the middle. Everything seemed quiet, with no signs of life nearby, either guards or cultists. Or even worse. Antony and the warriors scanned the corridors, alert for potential stalkers.
The situation began to take a sinister turn when they spotted blood in the facility's lobby, along with the bodies of mangled guardsmen. Near the exit, they heard screams and gunfire. Danubia and Clara ran ahead, with the boy following them.
To their horror, the camp was in flames. Communications facilities were destroyed, refugee tents were burned, depots were looted, and contingents of Imperium soldiers fought to protect what remained. But it was a losing battle, especially when there were more Chaos devotees than Imperium guardsmen.
A Kasrkin guard arrived on their way. He ran with a Hellgun in his hand, the barrel partially lit, and his uniform showing signs of combat wear.
“Battle Sisters, the camp is lost! The refugees and inmates have turned against us!” the Imperial elite soldier reported.
“We are aware of that!” Danubia replied, shaking her Bolter.
“The forces of Chaos have instigated these people to turn against us, and it is our duty to burn them!” Clara replied, removing her Flamer from her back.
“Yes, ma'am. But I fear our forces are insufficient to stop them. There are reports that the cultists have received reinforcements from the Warp.”
“Wait a minute. Did you say ‘reinforcements’?” Antony asked, approaching them. “What kind of reinforcements?”
“Antony!” called the silver-haired warrior with a serious expression, asking Antony to be quiet.
Seeing that it was the human boy in custody, the guard turned his head slightly to the left. “Isn't this the boy in your care?”
“He is. Canoness Dolores ordered us to return to the camp and ensure his safety until the arrival of the transport of the Ecclesiarchy.”
Antony didn't understand after hearing Danubia's last words. What were they talking about? Had Dolores already arranged transportation for him at the beginning of the conversation?
“Excuse me, but what are you talking about?” he asked, confused.
“Antony, we don't have time to explain to you!” Danubia replied with a serious expression.
“We need to get you out of here! It's the least we can do!” Clara added, remaining calm despite the destruction.
“Well, either way, the landing bay is on the other side of this location. The passage is blocked by debris and flames. Not to mention the cultists who will prevent you from passing.”
“If those wretches think they can stop us, they will be met with the Emperor's purifying flame!” Clara replied.
“Alright. I will escort you to the bay. There are some guards scattered around the camp who might be able to help you,” the Imperium elite soldier added.
“Thank you, Kasrkin guard. Your service to the Empire will be remembered for a lifetime,” Danubia thanked, saluting the guard. “For the Emperor!”
The group ran toward the spot designated by the Imperial soldier. Antony followed the two warriors and the Kasrkin guard, Laspistol in hand. He looked around at the scene; there was only death and destruction. Imperium guardsmen held their Lasguns in their hands, firing at several armed cultists and rebels. However, the Imperium casualties mounted. A guard fell to the ground, being replaced by five new soldiers.
On the other side, a mortar shell hit the ground, hitting seven soldiers. Three were dead, one screamed in pain after losing his leg to the detonation, two were wounded in the chest, and one was standing with minor injuries. And in the midst of the conflict, Antony spotted a man who had no interest to see him again. It was Commissar Nikolos, leading the guards to the front line with the imperial saber in one hand pointing forward and the Laspistol in the other.
“Come, you wretches! Stand and fight! In the name of the Emperor, you will not fall!” Nikolos cried, firing at the cultists while fueling the soldiers' fervor.
Antony watched the scene. Several guards and rebels fell under intense fire. Reserves of Imperial soldiers rushed to replace the casualties, with few of the wounded being rescued and the vast majority left for dead. And out of nowhere, mortar shells descended from the sky, killing everyone on the battlefield, regardless of the side.
The guardsmen were terrified. The hail of mortar explosions destroyed their will to fight, forcing them to run for their lives.
“We can't hold out any longer! Run!” shouted one of the guards, leaving behind his Lasgun.
“Every man for himself!” shouted the other guard.
The commissar saw the men fleeing the mortars. To him, this was an act of desertion in the midst of combat, a cowardly act towards a high-ranking officer in the service of the Imperium. Nikolos gritted his teeth, raising his Laspistol at the fleeing guards, pulling the trigger in rapid succession. Red laser beams erupted from the barrel, striking the soldiers in the head, arm, and back. What remained were dejected bodies, falling lifeless amidst the cacophony of destruction.
“Cowards! Do not take another step back or I'll shoot you dead!”
One of the guards fired his Lasgun wildly. His eyes were filled with terror as he tried to keep his courage up and continue fighting under the commissar's orders. “Commissar, there are… too many of them! We can't hold it!”
“We have to retreat to a safe position!” shouted another soldier, firing a Hellgun.
“No! Belay that order! Stand and fight!” Nikolos shouted.
Antony watched the scene. He saw the Imperial soldiers giving their lives to stop the enemy advance, even in the face of overwhelming odds. And out of nowhere, a mortar shell landed in front of them, exploding on impact. Nikolos and the guards were thrown back by the shockwave and the release of shrapnel that tore through their bodies. The commissar's body landed two meters from his previous position. Part of his black, red, and gold uniform was ruined, with blood staining the fabric and streaming from his mouth. His eyes were wide, expressing the last moments of horror, agony, and fury. One of the guards hit by the mortar got up with great difficulty and pain, but tried to follow the rest of his comrades to safety.
The horrors of war coursed through the hero's body. He had witnessed many similar episodes in past lives. He had seen people fight for leaders, kingdoms, and ideals, only to die for the same, regardless of the form. Imperium soldiers fought to the last man standing, others retreated with wounded men, others writhed in pain from battle wounds. And in the midst of the conflict, he spotted a soldier cowering in fear. Judging by the look on his face, he was about 17 years old. Far too young to be sent to war. In an act of bravery, Antony rushed to save him.
Danubia and Clara saw young Antony's act of bravery, even though he wasn't allowed to go away from them.
“Antony!” called Danubia.
Antony ignored the Sisters for a moment. He ran toward the frightened soldier, risking his life with a few explosions and Lasgun shots. Cultists approached, opening fire on Antony. In turn, the boy dodged, pulling the trigger in response to enemy fire.
“Emperor! Please don't abandon me!” the young soldier begged. He was curled up, his hands holding his legs and keeping his head down.
The boy begged the Emperor for protection repeatedly. No response. Just when it seemed all was going to end cruelly, a glimmer of hope appeared in the form of Earth's hero. The guard saw a kind of large, angelic wings, radiating light, and a golden sword in his hand. It grew in size as he approached him. Then Antony reached the boy, extending his hand.
“Come with me! I'll get you out of here!” shouted Antony, holding out his hand to him.
The young guardsman was startled at first, but nodded in the affirmative. He reached out to grab Antony's arm, pulling him out of the danger zone. The Kasrkin guard, Danubia, and Clara rushed to his aid, opening fire on the cultists and rebels to suppress their advance. They then retreated to safety, escorting Antony and the young guardsman along the way.
The young guard saw a kind of halo around Antony, a golden armor, and a blue cape as they ran. Even though the man from a different universe wore the same clothes as the others, he felt he was some kind of angel sent by the Emperor.
The projectiles grazed the group, met with fire from the Sisters of Battle's Bolter. Clara threw a phosphorus grenade at a platoon of rebels, engulfing them in golden flame upon detonation. One of them tried to run forward as the phosphorus flame burned into his flesh. The intensity of the fire sent him falling lifeless to the ground.
////
Out of danger, the group reached the courtyard used to transport refugees and detainees to the labor camps. It was filled with imperial guards who assisted the wounded and displaced. Antony, Danubia, Clara, and the two imperial guards stopped, while the young guard was helped by the other soldiers.
“You… you saved me. Thank you,” the boy thanked Antony, his face alight with relief at being alive.
“No problem. It's the least I could do,” replied the young hero from Earth. He saw the boy being escorted by the two guards armed with Lasguns to the others.
In the midst of that scene, Antony felt his arm being punched by the silver-haired warrior. His reaction was more of shock than pain.
“Hey! What was that for?!”
“The least you could have done was die out of stupidity!” Danubia replied with a serious look.
“You are in our care. Any act you could do would be enough for us to shoot you!” Clara added.
“Oh, come on! Personally, I wouldn't risk good people dying in a war. Especially young people and children! Besides, I can still fight!” Antony replied, Laspistol in hand.
Danubia stepped back for a moment. “You have some strange habits! But we'll get you out of here anyway!”
“The Ecclesiarchy ship won't take long to arrive and we'll leave Dallos IV.”
“Okay. After this, I want to go back home: To planet Earth. To MY planet Earth where I came from!”
“Antony, in case you've forgotten, you're under Imperial supervision! You won't be able to return home, even though it doesn't exist in Holy Terra.”
“And yet, how will you be able to return to your Terra? We have no way of taking you from one universe to another,” Clara added.
“And you can only be free from supervision if the Ecclesiarchy decides on your status, if you are not tainted by the Warp to the point of being condemned a heretic,” said Danubia.
“But I am not a heretic!” replied Antony.
“Heretic or not, you will have to come with us to the Ecclesiarchy,” Danubia concluded.
“Whether you like it or not,” Clara concluded.
Antony sighed as the two spoke of his current situation, where he was to go with them to the Ecclesiarchy to await trial until he could return home. However, as Danubia and Clara spoke of the Empire's lack of known, legalized means to open a portal from this universe to Antony's, it was clear that he would have to spend the rest of his life trapped in this cruel, dystopian world.
“Fine. I'll go with you since I have no other options.”
The two Battle Sisters moved forward, Bolter in hand ready for any ambush. Antony accompanied them to the ship bay. However, a voice called to him for a moment. Danubia and Clara heard the Kasrkin guard's call, allowing the young man to go and talk.
“Is there something you wanted me to talk about?” Antony asked, extending his right hand to the guard.
“Before you go, I just wanted to thank you for saving one of our own. It's not a common act for an outsider to do to an Imperial soldier,” said the Kasrkin guard.
“You know, I never had a good impression of you guys. But that boy somehow reminded me of a young man I knew in life. And to tell you the truth, I didn't want him to die while he still had so much ahead of him.”
“You're strange, Antony. You don't know our customs, just as we don't know yours. I respect that,” said the guard.
In an instant, he placed both hands on his helmet, removing it. Antony, Danubia, and Clara watched the elite soldier do it. Beneath it, they saw the face of a man of about 32 years old, with short black hair, a clean-shaven beard, one amber eye and one white from battle wounds, along with a red scar running from his nose to his left ear. The Earth boy's eyes remained fixed on the man.
“Like that boy, I was scared at first, afraid of dying. But after many battles, I came to see war as something natural. Of course, I had friends who weren't so lucky to be rescued by someone as noble as you. Many were even left for dead.”
“I've also met people who weren't as lucky as me. Apparently, we're both the same,” Antony replied.
“Yes, Antony. And you have a lot in front of you, just like him.”
The two remained silent in that spot. The two Sisters watched as they waited patiently. But their patience could not last long, for a massive explosion erupted from what would have been the ship bay. Danubia and Clara turned their attention to that spot, returning to the boy.
“Antony, we hate to rush things, but we have to go!” Danubia called.
Antony nodded forward. “I'm going now,” he replied, turning his attention to the guard.
“Antony, regardless of your verdict in the Ecclesiarchy, I want you to take this with you,” the guard said, handing over a gun. And it wasn't just any gun, it was his Lasgun from when he started as a regular guard. Antony accepted the gift, though wary of the gesture.
“But that’s your gun,” Antony said curiously, the guard’s response being a shake of his head. “Why are you giving it to me?”
“Let's just say it's my parting gift. I'm not sure if we'll ever meet again, but it will help you face any dangers that come your way.”
“Well, I… I don't even know how to thank you.”
“No need. Remember: The Emperor will always protect you,” concluded the Kasrkin guardsman, reinserting his helmet to protect his head.
“Thank you. Until our next meeting,” Antony thanked, distancing himself from the man as he rejoined the warriors.
The guard saw the group heading toward the rising flames. The situation grew dire as the rebels and cultists advanced on the camp. A new line of them approached the courtyard. Most of them wielded lasers and melee weapons, and were met with a hail of fire from the Imperial Lasguns. The Kasrkin guard and the other Imperium soldiers fought with their courageous lives against that growing horde. Even knowing they were endless, they would give their last breath for the Emperor of Mankind.
“Come, men! For the Emperor!” shouted the Kasrkin Guardsman, raising his Hellgun and opening fire on the assailants. The other guards then formed a line, firing their Lasguns at the incoming waves.
-x-
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