To the onlooker, it was both mesmerizing and horrifying—a fight so close and vicious it blurred the line between combat and self-destruction. Minutes passed, or perhaps centuries. Their movements slowed as exhaustion seeped into their broken forms, but neither stopped.
"Enough!" Slaanesh's voice broke through the chaos. Her tone, once commanding, now carried a desperate edge. "Kayvaan, stop! Please, I beg you. If we go on, we'll both die. Why are you doing this? What has the False Emperor done to make you so insane?"
Kayvaan didn't answer. His actions were mechanical, like a machine. He raised his arm and drove his claws into her again. "Stop, please!" she screamed. "Why are you so stubborn? You're human, Kayvaan! No matter what they turned you into, deep down, you're just a man. You're tired, aren't you? Exhausted! Why not give in and rest?"
He ignored her, lifting his arm with difficulty. The claws plunged into her once more. "Think about it," she gasped. "Eternal happiness, even if false, would feel real. What's more terrifying—being trapped in a dream you never wake from or living in a nightmare you can never escape?"
Kayvaan struggled but forced his arm up again, his claws driving into her body. "Why do this to yourself? Reality is dark, bloody, and full of pain. You've seen it. You've lived it. Don't you want peace?"
Again, he raised his arm, slower this time, and pierced her flesh. "You're insane," she whispered, her voice faltering. "I'm dead, and you can't live either. Your soul is on the brink of dissolving. So tell me—how can you claim victory?"
Across from him, she rose to her feet. The scars across her body were horrific, as if she'd been through a blender. Torn and mangled, yet, shockingly, her wounds were healing at an unnatural speed.
Kayvaan remained calm, unfazed by the grotesque sight. His voice was steady, resolute. "You don't understand. A devil like you could never grasp the essence of an Adeptus Astartes. We give up everything—our ordinary lives, our comforts—for one purpose: to protect humanity. Being Astartes is about dedication. It's about sacrifice, not gain or possession."
She laughed, her smile twisted and eerie. "So you sacrificed yourself to take me down with you?" Her tone was mocking. "And for what? So your pitiful apprentice can inherit your broken body and your legacy, only to keep serving your false emperor?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know about him?"
She tilted her head, her grin widening as if savoring some private joke. "Hahahaha! I told you, everything is going exactly as expected. No exceptions." Her tone grew sharper, yet more amused. "Your poor little apprentice—he's not like you, is he? He's just a regular human. Do you honestly think he can resist all those temptations? Money, indulgence, lust, power, vanity—all those sweet things mortals crave? He'll crumble, Kayvaan. He'll fall sooner or later. Sure, you've won this battle. I'll vanish with you. But the real game? It's only just begun, and you won't be around to see it."
Kayvaan coughed, blood trickling from his mouth, but his gaze remained unwavering. "I believe in him. He is my best apprentice. Flawed, yes, but kind. And as long as he holds onto that kindness, he'll endure."
Her expression twisted into something dark and angry, her voice rising in frustration. "And what did you get from all this, Kayvaan? Yes, you won—but at what cost? What do you have now? Nothing! You're dying, just like me! Why do you humans cling to these ideals, these pointless sacrifices, when you never get anything in return?"
Kayvaan chuckled faintly, his voice soft yet firm. "What have I gained? I've gained exactly what I always wanted. I know my place in the universe. I am one of the Crows, a combat instructor, a soldier. And now, I've achieved the perfect ending. Victory or death—that's our war cry, our creed. And now, I get both. For a Crow, what could be better than that?"
Their forms began to fade, dissolving into the void. The woman turned her gaze to Joe, her demeanor strangely serene. She was Kayvaan's adversary, an incarnation of the Chaos god Slaanesh, yet in this moment, she seemed like something more. Neither regretful nor angry, she smiled as if she had simply been part of a game—a game that had reached its natural conclusion. Winning or losing seemed irrelevant now.
Her voice carried a calmness that was almost holy. "Joe," she said, her smile unwavering. "I will remember you. Your face, your soul. One day, I'll wait for you in the Temple of Joy. There, all your desires can be fulfilled. Eternal happiness, Joe. It's yours for the taking. Unlike your foolish mentor, I believe you'll make the smart choice.
"I could explain it all—how to see this cruel, ugly world for what it really is. But joy is fleeting in a place like this. So, I'll leave you with a gift instead. The darkness will remain, even when I'm gone. Use its power. Don't chain yourself to meaningless ideals. Nothing is more important than your own happiness."
With that, both Kayvaan and the devil vanished, their final words echoing in the collapsing void. The world crumbled into darkness.
The sun shone warmly on Earth, casting a gentle glow across the silver-white plaza. White doves soared overhead, their wings glinting in the light. Fountains sprayed arcs of water into the sky, droplets scattering like diamonds as they fell. Even the sound of water seemed joyful on this tranquil spring day.
The empire had recently celebrated the dawn of the 41st millennium. A grand parade and carnival had been held in the imperial capital, filling the streets with laughter and cheers. Though the festivities had subsided, an air of celebration still lingered.
Nobles from across the galaxy had gathered for the event. Some stayed behind to cultivate connections and secure their positions in the sprawling bureaucracy of the imperial capital. Others, devout believers, visited the cathedrals to sing hymns and pray with tears of fervent faith. But most nobles simply indulged themselves, reveling in the rare chance to enjoy the birthplace of humanity—the heart of the empire.
Earth was not only the political center of the galaxy but also its spiritual core. The Vatican Council of Cardinals, seated here, remained the most revered religious authority in the empire. Though the Vatican Auxiliary Council on Ophelia VII was an equally powerful institution, centuries of tradition ensured that Earth was still seen as the true heart of the Imperial Creed.
After all, the Emperor Himself resided on Earth or it called Terra. Pilgrims and nobles alike flocked to the towering cathedrals and ancient monuments, drawn by the weight of history and faith. For many, standing on this sacred ground was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Cathedrals large enough for interstellar spacecraft to pass through stood like monuments built for ancient giants, their sheer size dwarfing anything else in sight. Just looking at them from afar filled people with awe and a humbling sense of insignificance. Above these magnificent structures, thin, tower-like spires pierced the sky, adorned with intricate sculptures of heroes frozen in victorious poses. Every corner and alley boasted murals and carvings depicting the Empire's storied past, while ancient buildings bore the marks of time's relentless march. Together, they painted a scene unique to Earth—one that no visitor could afford to miss.