Vergil returned to Titan after passing through the teleportarium, his last mission against the Daemons of Tzeentch completed. Although the Grey Knights are known for their mental immunity to the corruption of the Warp, their bodies can still feel fatigue. The weight of the Terminator armor was enough to make Vergil uncomfortable, especially with the heavy Nemesis Force Spear.
As his footsteps echoed through the corridors of the fortress-monastery, Vergil's mind wandered back to the battle he had just fought. Every swing of his spear had banished the horrors of Tzeentch's minions, but each strike also left its mark on his body, both physically and mentally. As a Justicar, Vergil had faced countless terrors, yet each time he returned stronger—more determined to protect the Imperium from threats both within and without.
However, the journey back to Titan did not provide the peace he had hoped for. The whispers that dominated the battlefield still echoed in his ears, the lingering voices of the Warp continuing to disturb his peace. Vergil knew that only time would heal these wounds, but the next mission was always waiting—there is no respite in the eternal war against the forces of darkness.
Justicar Avallon's voice echoed through the comms, a stern command cutting through the silence of the aftermath.
"All Terminators, return to your quarters and rest. We must be prepared for the next deployment."
Vergil acknowledged the order with a curt nod, his body heavy with exhaustion as he made his way back to his quarters. The halls of the fortress-monastery on Titan were dimly lit, the cold stone walls resonating with a silence that seemed almost sacred. Every step he took was a reminder of the grueling battle he had just survived. The weight of his Nemesis Force Spear and the burden of his Terminator armor pressed down on him like a tangible force.
Upon entering his chamber, Vergil was greeted by the whirring sound of a Skull Servo, its red optic glowing as it hovered near. The Tech Priest, Dante, was already there, his mechanical limbs clicking as he approached. Without a word, the two worked together to remove the massive armor. Each piece clanked heavily as it was detached, revealing the scarred and bruised flesh beneath. Vergil's body bore the marks of countless battles—his skin a tapestry of pain and perseverance.
Finally freed from the cumbersome armor, Vergil felt a wave of relief wash over him. The cool air of the chamber was a stark contrast to the oppressive heat he had endured inside the suit. With a grunt, he lowered himself onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. His muscles ached, and every bone in his body seemed to cry out for rest. He allowed himself to sink into the bed, his eyes heavy with fatigue.
Vergil began to dream, finding himself standing on a vast, barren landscape under a sky filled with swirling dark clouds. The atmosphere was heavy with an ominous silence, yet there was a sense of purpose, a pull toward something greater. As he looked around, a figure emerged from the shadows—majestic, radiant, and awe-inspiring. It was the Emperor of Mankind, His golden armor gleaming with an ethereal light that banished the surrounding darkness.
The Emperor approached Vergil, His presence both comforting and overwhelming. Without a word, He placed a hand on Vergil's shoulder, the touch filling him with a profound sense of warmth and strength. The Emperor's eyes, filled with infinite wisdom and compassion, met Vergil's, and then He turned, pointing toward a distant cave. The cave bore the unmistakable symbol of the Imperial Aquila, etched into the stone above its entrance. Though the location was remote, Vergil could still see the towering silhouette of the Citadel of Titan on the horizon, a constant reminder of his duty and the weight of the responsibility he carried.
Compelled by the Emperor's silent command, Vergil moved toward the cave, each step echoing with purpose. As he approached, the air around him seemed to change, charged with a potent energy that resonated deep within his soul. Upon entering the cave, Vergil's eyes were drawn to the center, where a spear lay resting on a stone pedestal. The weapon appeared ancient, its surface rough like stone, yet it exuded an undeniable power, as if it had been forged by the hands of the Emperor Himself.
The spear seemed to be asleep, waiting for its rightful owner to awaken it from its long slumber. Vergil could feel the raw, untamed Psychic energy radiating from the weapon, pure and untainted by the corrupting influence of Chaos. It was as if the spear was a beacon of light in the darkness, a weapon of unimaginable power that had been hidden away, preserved for a time of great need.
Drawn to it, Vergil reached out, his hand hovering just above the spear. He could feel the energy coursing through him, the connection between the weapon and his own Psychic abilities growing stronger with each passing moment. The cave around him seemed to fade, and all that remained was the spear and the promise it held—a promise of strength, purity, and the power to vanquish the darkest of foes.
Vergil awoke with a start, the memory of the dream vivid in his mind. He could still feel the echo of the Emperor's touch on his shoulder, the presence of the spear calling to him from the depths of his subconscious. He knew that this was no ordinary dream—it was a vision, a sign of what was to come.
Suddenly, Vergil became aware of a presence at his door. Standing in the dim light was Grand Master Caddon Varn, his imposing figure casting a long shadow into the room. Vergil's heart skipped a beat as he quickly sat up, his instincts honed from years of service making him instantly alert.
Grand Master Caddon Varn was a legend among the Grey Knights, a warrior whose wisdom and strength had guided countless battles against the forces of Chaos. His mere presence commanded respect, and his piercing gaze seemed to see through both armor and soul. As he stood there, Vergil noticed something unusual—Grand Master Varn's expression was not one of anger or suspicion, but of curiosity and contemplation.
Vergil could sense that the Grand Master was detecting something—a surge in Psychic energy that had been triggered by the dream. However, this energy was unlike the tainted, malevolent force of Chaos that they were trained to hunt and destroy. It was different, pure, and unfamiliar, yet undeniably powerful.
The silence hung in the air for a moment, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Vergil, still shaken by the vividness of his dream, struggled to find the right words. But before he could speak, Grand Master Varn stepped into the room, his gaze never leaving Vergil's.
"I felt a disturbance," Varn said, his voice deep and measured. "A spike in Psychic energy, yet it bears no trace of the Warp's corruption. Tell me, Vergil, what have you seen?"
"Emperor come to my dream, he pat my shoulder." Vergil said.
"Emperor... ah sorry i forget.... when you arrive here send by Custodes, they said it was Emperor order to trained you, your training and Gene-Seed implantation is astonishing. Maybe Emperor considering you as his friend. Tell me more..." Grand Master Caddon Varn said.
Vergil took a deep breath, recounting the details of his dream—the appearance of the Emperor, the cave with the Imperial Aquila, and the ancient spear radiating pure Psychic power. As he spoke, he could see the Grand Master's expression shift from curiosity to something akin to understanding, as if Varn had anticipated this moment.
When Vergil finished, Grand Master Varn remained silent for a few moments, his eyes narrowing in thought. "
The Emperor's will guides us in mysterious ways, Vergil," he finally said, his tone thoughtful. "This vision… it may be a sign, a call to a greater purpose. The spear you described could be a relic of immense importance, one that has been hidden from even our knowledge."
"What i must do next?" Vergil ask.
"Do what Emperor want you to do and come back save, i will handle this Psychic spike matter with other Grand Master" Caddon Varn said and he standing and leaving Vergil.