Intro 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70
Pain and Darkness. A flash for mere moments and then a settling, as if some deep recess of the mind was now awake. It was unsettling but somehow familiar in a manner that was indefinable. Darkness still… but now feeling. Meat: cold and clammy. Hands: pressure on the restraining cuffs and a dull crackling pulse. Slowly, sound…
“…Indeed it will Supreme Magos Menelaus,” A voice, untouched by the blessings of the Omnisiah, “We are now heard.”
“Skitari Praetorian, Code 379121.a78-Omega: report,” This voice commanded power, it was he who was the father.
The ability to speak suddenly returned, now the thought of it being gone at all was banished as the stasis field faded further, “Skitari Praetorian, Code 379121.a78-Omega: Online, services functional. All systems nominal and within range,” It was odd to hear the voice, cracking through a vox-coder, it seemed foreign, unfamiliar. Perhaps it was, granted as a gift in the long slumber.
“Skitari Praetorian, Code 379121.a78-Omega,” the voice of the father spoke, “New designation: Abraxas. Master Magos Astril, disengage restraining bolts.”
There was a harsh pain in the meat. The true flesh was free, its movement un-restricted. Suddenly, vision flared. The eye implants quickly processed all of the information present in the visual spectrum. The room was as remembered, the large pedestal in the center bore the father’s meat, connected as it was to all manner of cogitators and systems that made him Menelaus. Present also were Master Magos Astril, Hacking and Iute. The oculators quickly registered the damage and high levels of radiation.
“Skitari Praetorian, Designation: Abraxas. You have registered the high levels of radiation. The meat is weak and Menelaus’ systems are failing,” This was the untouched voice of Master Magos Hacking, “His meat will pass. His flesh will pass. He is failing. Soon his essence will return to the Omnisiah without aid. Do you seek to serve Supreme Magos Menelaus and the Omnisiah, Skitari Praetorian, Designation: Abraxas?”
There was a feeling deep in the meat echoing the thousands of cogitators that ran through the true flesh. A single pure thought, “Yes, I live to serve the Omnisiah. Make use of me, Master Magos.”
The Father’s voice intoned, “Bring forth the receptacle, Astril.” The Master Magos hefted a Powered Halberd, its dual heads shaped in the cogs of the Adeptus of Mars. With the Aid of Master Iute, they detached the haft, revealing a cylindrical hollowing in the weapon, spanning most of its length.
“Toll once the great bell for your duty,” Master Magos Hacking spoke aloud.
Astril knelt before the Father and began the sacred coding. The cogitators averted the sight before a sin could be committed. The though became a law and the law became a voice. The voice intoned: No Skitari shall bear witness to the codings of the Masters, for their duties are above yours.
“Turn twice the great gear for you service,” Hacking intoned.
There was a hiss and a screaming of metal against metal.
“Strike thrice the great sigil of ending,” Hacking’s voice lingered.
The head turned, as if knowing that now, it should see what the Master’s wished for it. Held aloft by Master Magos Astril, a green, pulsing cylinder exactly two meters in length, the item had been removed from the pedestal. The father was unmoving, his cogitators silent. Swiftly, Master Magos Astril slid the cylinder into the Halberd’s haft. Quickly the Master’s converged and sealed the weapon together again.
“Kneel, Abraxas,” Hacking ordered. The servos acted quickly. Hacking placed his metal claw upon the skull and spoke again, “Menlaus has passed from us. The Omnisiah has seen fit to grant unto him another form. While the meat rots, his essence will be contained within the Cylinder Gordian; its mighty cogitators will contain his thoughts and his soul. He is born again from the flame as the mighty weapon of war. As you have been christened anew, so do we rename him. Stand Abraxas and take hold of the mighty weapon Diomedes, he now guards you as you carry him aloft. You shall carry him into service alongside a very important person. You shall carry Diomedes into his new sojourn, his eyes as he has not, his feet as he bears none. You, Abraxas, will carve a new place in the Universe for the Omnisiah, and Diomedes shall lead you with wisdom and wrath.”
The Master Magos handed over the weapon. The metallic hands grasped its haft and could feel the power flowing throughout it. The blades crackled with power, coruscating with energy from within. The Cylinder was well concealed and gave the weapon tremendous weight. Too much for a normal human. No, meat without the benefit of true flesh would be unable to wield such a weapon. Spinning the Halberd, the hands struck its foot into the place.
“I am a tool of the Omnisiah, great Master Magos. Use my flesh as you deem fit, I am ready to serve,” The voice spoke with the fervor that the flesh demanded.
Deep within, from someplace unknown, there was a response. The chill sound echoed within the flesh and meat alike. None of the Masters spoke or moved but still the sound, no the thought echoed within: “Your fervor serves us well, Abraxas. I will do well in your hands,” the voice of Diomedes echoed through the meat and mind alike, “Now, Abraxas, let me tell you of Inquisitor Voltman Kalsman and our new duty…”