Chapter 69 - Magnus The Red
In the vast expanse of the cosmic battlefield, Calista focused her celestial senses, attempting to track the elusive Star God. Her attention was sharp, like a blade through the fabric of reality, poised to intercept any unforeseen moves from the enigmatic entity. As the Archangel of the Imperium, she understood the importance of vigilance, especially in the face of such formidable adversaries.
Magnus the Red faced off against the radiant Star God, its steel body aglow with cosmic energy. Rather than launching into immediate combat, Magnus chose to engage in a dialogue, seeking insight into the motivations of this celestial adversary.
"Tell me, Star God, what hubris fuels your belief that you can overcome us, the Primarchs?" Magnus questioned, his eyes fixed upon the radiant entity before him. The Star God, illuminated by the energies it harnessed, stood as an enigmatic figure, seemingly convinced of an inevitable triumph.
In response, the Star God confidently proclaimed, "Your defeat is written in fate, Magnus. Though some may fall or be captured, the ultimate outcome is destined. It is the will of the cosmos, the destiny of the Imperium to succumb in this War in Heaven."
Magnus, however, met this proclamation not with anger but with hearty laughter that reverberated through the celestial arena. "What delusions feed your certainty, Star God?" Magnus retorted, his tone a blend of wisdom and amusement. "Do you truly believe that victory or defeat is preordained for us? Fate, my celestial friend, is not a chain that binds us but a tapestry woven by our choices. The destiny of the Imperium is not merely dictated by fate; it is forged by our will, our actions, and, most importantly, by the guidance of the God Emperor, my Father. For us, fate is a malleable concept, an echo of our eternal existence. Win or lose, our essence endures."
Magnus's words echoed through the cosmic expanse, a declaration of the Primarchs' defiance against the deterministic currents of the universe.
"Tell me your name, Star God. It would be a shame for you to meet your end without me knowing who you are," Magnus declared with a mixture of authority and curiosity.
"Hubris will be your downfall, Primarch," warned the Star God in response to Magnus's inquiry. However, Magnus scoffed at the notion. "You speak of hubris as if you are not equally or even more consumed by it than we are," he retorted.
Undeterred by the exchange, the Star God revealed its name, "Very well, my name is Moros. In our language, it translates to Cosmic Judge." Magnus nodded, seemingly contemplating the significance of the revelation. Yet, his thoughts operated independently from his spellcasting. In an instant, a myriad of spells, more akin to manifestations of will than conventional casting, enveloped the celestial battlefield. Buffing spells, cursing spells, silencing spells—Magnus unleashed an arsenal of mystical forces upon the Star God.
However, with a single uttered word, Moros nullified every incantation Magnus had wrought. "Silence," Moros declared, and the cosmic symphony fell silent. Magnus, unfazed, responded, "Two can play at that game."
"Die," Magnus proclaimed, attempting to command the very fabric of reality. To his surprise, Moros remained unaffected. The Star God chuckled in response, revealing its preparedness. "You really think I didn't take countermeasures against causality and reality manipulation, Primarch!"
In the next moment, Magnus, with an air of confidence, hurled a celestial body of immense proportions—a sun—at the Star God. "Yes, but I doubt you were expecting a supergiant thrown at you," Magnus remarked, his words echoing through the cosmic expanse.
69.2 The Betrayal
Dante, the valiant First Captain of the Blood Angels, led his legion with unrivaled fervor. The cosmic battlefield crackled with energy as the Blood Angels and their Cosmic Militarum allies blitzed through the Aetherian formation. In a masterful display of strategy and might, Dante orchestrated the assault, his battle brothers carving a path through the celestial foes. The Aetherians found themselves overwhelmed as the Blood Angels relentlessly pressed the attack.
Meanwhile, at the heart of the universe, within the opulent Aetherian Palace where the nine kings of the Aetherians convened, a momentous discussion unfolded. The Phoenix King, Asuryan, a figure of regal stature with white hair, piercing blue eyes, and clad in resplendent Royal Power Armor, stood before his creators. They gathered in regal assembly, each bearing the weight of eons in their immortal existence.
Asuryan, the Phoenix King, addressed the assembly with words that shifted from luminous to blasphemous, catching the Aetherian kings off guard. "Young Deity, what can we do for you?" inquired King Azurian, seeking understanding from their prodigious creation.
In a tone that belied reverence, Asuryan spoke, "Well, Creators, the Imperium is close at hand. All I'm saying is that you all will have to die here."
The audacity of Asuryan's words rippled through the gathering. Shock and disbelief painted the expressions of the Aetherian kings. King Drak'mar, in particular, retorted angrily, "Impudent! You are our creation. What makes you think you can kill us?"
The Aetherian kings, shocked and angered by Asuryani's revelation, attempted to unleash their formidable powers, only to find themselves impotent. Horror and confusion painted their immortal faces as the realization of their vulnerability dawned upon them. Sealed within his resplendent power armor, Asuryani's face remained hidden, an inscrutable expression beneath the polished exterior.
With a touch of smugness in his tone, Asuryani enlightened his brethren, "Are you baffled on why you can't use your powers? Frankly, I might die if you still had your powers, but you old fellows refused to even study Imperium tech, which led to your demise."
King Zal'Tharian, the intellectual among them, muttered, "The Honkai Pylons!" A smirk played on Asuryani's lips as he responded, "Close, but I've got a better name for it—Aether Pylons. Crafted to counter the Imperial Honkai Pylons, specifically designed to nullify your abilities. Die in peace, knowing that we, the Eldranthii, will carry on your will as the last race, the last perfect race. The Korrks are irrelevant, mere warmongering beasts despite their intelligence."
However, King Yar'zoth, displaying an unexpected amusement, burst into laughter, earning a skeptical gaze from Asuryani. "Why are you laughing, you senile old fool?" questioned the Phoenix King as he approached Yar'Zoth, seizing him by the neck.
Yar'Zoth, amidst his laughter, responded with cryptic insight, "I'm laughing because you simply don't know the height of the Imperium's power. Do you wonder why we are losing? As the oldest civilization in this universe, why have we fallen against the young Imperium? Have you ever questioned the whereabouts of our deities? As a supreme civilization, by the time a civilization ascends to a Type 4, one must have a pantheon of deities to protect it from foreign gods. Do you ever wonder where they are now?"
His laughter echoed in the cavernous hall, leaving a chilling revelation hanging in the air.
In the solemn chamber where the remaining Aetherian kings faced their impending demise, Asuryani, the Phoenix King, issued an ultimatum. "You will tell me, or shall I massacre the remaining Aetherians in this planet," he declared. King Thessarian, undeterred by the Phoenix King's imposing demeanor, calmly responded, "Pompous, proud, hedonistic, foolish—these traits will not work, more likely hinder you, Phoenix King. Nevertheless, we will die, but it is perhaps an eternal rest in our immortal lives. It's about time that we left the cosmic tapestry. The Imperium will always keep a record of us, and that is enough. But let me answer that question, Phoenix King."
As the Phoenix King hesitated, King Thessarian continued, "The Imperium, or Imperium Dominus, rose around 500 years ago, during what they call the Era of the Old. At that time, the Imperium was barely even a civilization. The turning point came with the birth of a person—Fafnir Augustus Aurelius. His birth marked the discovery of Honkai energy, a critical force harnessed by the Imperium. This person, later known as the God-Emperor of his people, held titles such as The Dragon, The Human, The Crown, and The Phoenix."
Noting the Phoenix King's visible annoyance at one of the titles, King Thessarian pressed on, "These titles held different meanings for the divine humans, the Dominians. Fafnir Augustus Aurelius singlehandedly united the humans, and under his guidance, within 30 years, they ascended into a Type 1 civilization, successfully conquering their planetary systems. In a mere 200 years, they skyrocketed to Type 2 and Type 3, achieving Type 4 status. By the time we discovered the God-Emperor, his powers surpassed anything we had ever seen, placing him among the peak of God-Kings, equal to the God-King of the Aetherian Pantheon, Valorath."
Asuryani's thoughts played across his face, prompting King Thessarian to elucidate, "I know what you are thinking—why didn't we nip him in the bud? The answer is simple: we couldn't see. We never truly discovered his ascension to godhood, nor did his fate appear in the lines of fate. He was an enigma. When he appeared, he was already immensely powerful." The weight of inevitability hung in the air as the story of the God-Emperor unfolded from King Thessarian's lips.
"Why is he relevant?...Why is the God-Emperor Relevant?" Asuryani inquired, his gaze piercing through the shadows of revelation. King Azurian, one of the 9 Aetherian kings, stepped forward to answer the query that hung in the air like an impending storm. "Because he is the Father of the 18 Primarchs and the main reason why our pantheon is godless. Just recently, Valorath ascended to the divine realm to face the God-Emperor, to buy us time. They knew and saw their futures, foretelling their demise at the hands of the God-Emperor and his Empress. There was no chance of winning against the God-Emperor. He is an anomaly. When you kill us, you will face this powerhouse alone. It does not matter if you forge your own pantheon from our corpses; the Eldranthii pantheon will always lack the power to defeat the Imperial pantheon. We saw it all—threads of fate, threads of time—all foretell that the Imperium will always be victorious because the God-Emperor exists."
Asuryani's divine countenance contorted in disbelief and rage. "Impossible! There is no entity that is unbeatable!" he vehemently declared. King Uldrex, the seer amongst the 9 kings, raised his blinded eyes that glowed and bled, ignoring the pain to impart his wisdom. "How foolish, young deity. There is always a sky above the sky. Once ascending the universe, you will find that someone is already holding the reins of the multiverse, and that being is the God-Emperor. You may begin your foolish plan."
With those words, the 9 kings, architects of the Eldranthii race, turned to ash, leaving Asuryani in a state of disbelief and seething anger. Despite his divine status as the God-King of the Eldranthii, his pride was wounded by the words of his creators. This event came to be known as the Genesis, marking the birth of the Eldranthii Pantheon. Despite the betrayal of the Eldranthii, the 9 kings provided the Phoenix King with the tools to create his pantheon of Eldranthii gods.
As the last Aetherian king, King Vael'Tor, turned to ash, he left a final message that left Asuryani seething in anger. "You will lose, but the question is, how long until then?" Another message, penned by King Thessarian, added salt to the wounds. "You should read more books, young one, instead of wasting away in your so-called hedonistic practices. I suggest starting with the books of Archibald Chronos." The echoes of wisdom and mockery lingered in the void left by the departed kings.
69.3 Isolde The Herrscher of Light
In the cosmic expanse near the Center of the Universe, Isolde, the Saintess Primarch of the Word Bearers, engaged in a relentless clash with Vortigan, the Star God shrouded in an impenetrable darkness. Isolde's ashen-colored combat skin emitted a visible halo of light, signifying her divine identity, while the photons of light constantly radiating from her formed a striking contrast to the void of space.
Isolde's attacks, manifesting as flashes of blinding light, seemed to be absorbed by Vortigan, drawing a confident chuckle from the cosmic entity. "It's useless, Primarch. Light will always be consumed by a black hole, nor can it escape," Vortigan taunted. In response, Isolde heightened the brilliance of her attacks, unleashing a torrent of holy light that burned fiercely. The Star God, however, absorbed the divine energy without suffering any damage. No ordinary being could withstand the onslaught of such intense divine power unscathed.
Undeterred, Isolde questioned, "A black hole? What about holy light?" Her luminous assault intensified, creating a radiant inferno that could scorch even the heavens. Vortigan, unfazed, revealed his identity with a sense of pride. "I am Vortigan, Devourer of Galaxies! Small burns don't mean much, Primarch!"
Vortigan retaliated with an onslaught of black hole-based attacks. Omni-directional forces tore through space, pillars of black holes manifested, and beams of cosmic destruction emanated from the Star God. Planets and stars succumbed to the voracious appetite of the devourer, reduced to cosmic dust. Meanwhile, Isolde harnessed Divine Speed, a stage just shy of Absolute Speed, resembling a spark in the vast darkness of the void. She launched attacks of infinite weight, each blow capable of erasing Vortigan from existence. However, the cosmic entity regenerated as swiftly as he was obliterated.
The battlefield became a theatre of attrition, with Isolde's attacks piercing through Vortigan's defenses, while the Star God's onslaught defied any conventional means of protection.
Isolde pressed on, closing the distance between herself and Vortigan with astonishing speed. Her attacks in close quarters resonated with divine power, and she exclaimed, "Die, glorified jellyfish!" A blinding flash of light enveloped the Star God, erasing him from existence. Isolde stood in the void, her eyes scanning for any signs of regeneration from Vortigan. Soon enough, her suspicions were confirmed as the cosmic entity reappeared, smirk intact.
"Jellyfish, huh? I bet that took a good chunk of powers from you, Primarch," Vortigan chuckled, taunting Isolde. Undeterred, she questioned the eternal entity, "Why won't you die?" Vortigan responded with nonchalant simplicity, "Simple, really. We are eternal existences; nothing short of a big bang will kill us."
Perceiving the challenge, Isolde calmly declared, "Perhaps you underestimate yourself." With those words, she began a divine incantation, invoking the radiance of the God-Emperor's gaze. "In the divine radiance of the God Emperor's gaze, I declare your existence forfeit. By the luminous mandate of celestial decree, vanish from the tapestry of being. The Emperor wills it, and in his light, thou shall be gone, erased from existence. In the sanctity of his divine will, I, his faithful daughter, command the expulsion of shadows. In his name, I wield the brilliance that scours away all that opposes the celestial order."
As she chanted, Isolde's Herrscher Ascension took hold, enabling her to wield the Absolute Light. Her combat skin merged seamlessly with her Herrscher form, transforming into a saintess garb adorned in the sacred colors of the Church of the God-Emperor — white, gold, and blue. The brilliance of her halo became even more pronounced, signifying the transcendence of her power to a level beyond mortal comprehension. The absolute light she now wielded promised the erasure of all opposition, akin to the cataclysmic force of a cosmic rebirth.
As the cosmic clash reached its zenith, Isolde could feel the immense power coursing through her being. "Five seconds is the duration of my ascension," she murmured, preparing for the imminent unleashing of her newfound might. With a quiet resolve, she addressed Vortigan, "Rejoice, Vortigan. My ascension will be the last thing you will see. Now vanish from existence—both your soul and your concept."
Vortigan retaliated with an onslaught of cosmic forces, conjuring black holes of staggering magnitude that threatened to consume entire planetary systems and neighboring galaxies. Galaxies, vast celestial entities, became mere playthings in this cosmic duel. However, in the face of this cosmic maelstrom, Isolde calmly uttered, "Lumina Divina," and in a fleeting millisecond, the Star God ceased to be.
Silver-06 materialized at the scene. "Milady, it appears that your slumber is near," he informed Isolde. Calista, her wings of light radiant, teleported beside her sister, remarking, "You were hasty, dear sister."
"All for the Imperium, for the ultimate victory," Isolde responded resolutely. At that moment, Magnus's clone appeared. "My apologies, but I can only send a clone to bid my sister a good night. However, you were too hasty, sister; your legions will have no Primarch," Magnus reprimanded.
"Phaeron will be fine," She Knew her First Captain can lead her Legions Well. Isolde asserted as her eyes began to close, signaling the onset of her slumber. Once a Primarch ascends, they gain power beyond measure, but in return, they are forced into a deep slumber.
"Silver-06, you may take it from here," Calista directed, and Silver-06 acknowledged, "Yes, Primarch."
With that, Isolde was teleported to her own tomb world, where she would rest.