NationStates Jolt Archive

Sameul sat, in front of the crowds before him. He stood, bare chest, wearing only the long skirt like robe. He held before him the cup, which had the orange liquid of Melange spice. He nodded, as the priests spoke words he no longer listened to. The tarot had clouded the sight, which ment the doseage of Melange had to be higher now to atain a vision. He was about to embark on the largest dose of Pure Melange he had ever tested, he raised the cups to his lips, and Drank.

The Spice flowed through him, and he felt the visions begin to overtake him. What did he see? He saw the various futures, he saw his empire streching across a thousand stars, he standing at the right hand of...a shadow, he could not make out the face, but its power was great. And behind him? There where four of them, Instincts, Blood, Plesure, Decay and Change. And then he knew...something had joined him here...

A great mind had been touched by prescient vision; sought across the cold void of space, and now attained. Marcus De Drakan's daemonic conciousness surged forth across the connection; bellowing with boundless power and anger.
Who dares to disturb me? Who dares seek the mind De Drakan!? Who would challenge the true servant of the Gods?

He tasted this ones mind; rich and powerful, alive with substance that seemed to make reality ripple about him with its scent; tasting it across the telepathic interchange and shuddering at its warm embrace.

I am Marcus De Drakan, Lord and emperor of the Chronosian Imperium. Speak mortal; my time is short; my patience shorter...

Samuel shook, looking at the form before him. He was disoriented, was this what would happen or what was happening? He thought, considered, before nodding. Nothing from what WOULD happen could speak to him HERE. Thus he considered.

"Chronosia...I recignize your name, but I do not know you well. You are of my time, I ask this, for the Water of Life has brought me into confusion" unconsiously, his head began to pulse, a great power...surely a prize to chaos to try and take.

Voices whirled about him like a whirlwind of accusers and seducers; worlds seemed to burn before his eyes, so real he could reach out and touch them; ships blacked out the stars; darkening the night. The warp fires blazed about him as though he were struggling in the depths of the Eye of Terror; as the shadow split the dancing hypnotic flames asunder; an immense being, armored and destructive; strangely beautiful and decadant in its dark splendor.

I am of now, past, present and future; and ever shall be. The Powers have promised me immortality and glory. I am the darkness behind stars; I am the fire within souls. Now; who are you; seeking the future through potions and ungents; strange drugs that burn the senses....

Samuel Shivered, the voices, he heard them. He head Melawin before the Purifacation of Ix, he heard his children, he could feel the pain of the acursed one entering his mind of his own violation. As memories spread through him, he found himself caught up, unable to resist the man who spoke before him.

"I am Muad'Dib, I am the Kwisatz Hadreach, I am the Messiah and Emperor of Naggeroth, Samuel Coote II, Husband of those who are dead, Father to those who are dead, forever lost in a sea of my own Agony. I only drink the Water of Life to push past the Confounded Tarot that they put up to block me, to denie me my Knowlage." He looked up. "And what are the powers to promise you what they have?" The question came from no where.

By blood and sacrifice we see the faces of the future. By Tarot, divination, runes and entrails; we glimpse the strands of Tzeenthcian fate. We offer Chaos; power beyond imagining. The power to consume worlds; the power to enslave systems; to rule the stars themselves. We are the Children of the true Gods. We shall not be denied Marcus was intrigued by this 'supreme being'; this tormented Emperor and Savior who walked the perilous path, and truely, utterly made such a malleable and interesting speciman.

A pawn for future plans; or perhaps a worthy ally at last. The Imperium neded strong allies; not weak half-hearted pawns at its side...

The Emperor was paused, his mind filled with voices. He still heard the voices of the millions, he still heard the thousands that had died, he felt the souls of millions. Those who had been lost in Tsurani, those who had been killed when he a Jihad had been declared in his name. He felt the blood of millions, but there where a number he felt most of all.

Melawin, her hair the colour of copper gold, the smell of flowers that seemed to follow her. The mind that he could spar with, who he routinly challanged, who an arguement was never hostile, mearly a thing to challange ones mind.

Tomas and Lilly, the twins, his children. They had never even known what life was before their death, killed at the age of two. He smiled, his thoughts delving into the realm of blood, he had extracted his revenge.

Then he looked forward, his mind shaped words, Could they bring back the dead? Could such a power exist that would be worth the sacrifice?

"What is this, what do you do, bathe in blood? Where is humanity? Where is culture? Such things...their so...wrong, how can you justify them" The argument was weak, comming from one such as he, one who had killed millions in his quest, which was what? The thought struck Samuel, what WAS he trying to now achive? Everything he had tried to move forward from was now gone, his family, his First Empire, thousands walked apon his mind. "What am I here?" He muttered, within the temple.

How can you? The voice retorted, mocking him; mocking his lack of knowledge, his doubt; his fear. There is much culture to be found in Barbarism. There is civilisation to be found in Chaos. There is power beyond the stars! There is darkness within every sentient being that consumes light more than the infinite void of the Cosmos. Laughter now; mocking, cruel and arrogant.

Death is a transcience between life and the Warp. The power you seek is yours to take; yours to claim. You need only prove yourself strong enough to take it; to seize it from the galaxy. Prove your power; prove your worth

Melange Clouded his mind, he knew not what he was doing, did this thing before him offer a Perpous? A Reason to exist? He looked up, and stood, drawing himself to power.

What of the dead? Can this power bring back those that have been lain to rest? Could i bring back the three That fell because of my arrogence? Could I have another chance?

Then the moment appered, a deciding point on the mind of the Emperor. His very body was dependant on this one answer, the fate of Billions could hinged apon these words.

Power over life and death; good and evil, right and wrong; all await you in the Immaterium. You will rise like a benighted star; you shall burn the stars from wakefulness; you shall inherit more than you could possibly know; expand, conquer, save...Think of all who shall live because of you, your actions. This is the path to salvation...

And the Path was Darkness. The Emperor's mind took a turn. Immidietly things that the Tarot had concealed where gone. His mind saw the power his empire would one day, weather it be today or in a billion years, weild. He saw Legions of Black Clad Warriors, their Bodies Decorated with the spikes. He saw Fremen and Sardukar going under the knife to become a new form of superior.

But most of all, he saw where he would go. To the Eye of Terror, Where thousands where still damned, he would walk. He saw a glimpse of what would have been, then shrugged. It was no longer a consiquence.

My mind eye is now clear, I belive you have made several Ventures into the Eye of Terror? I have seen the path, I can take you to the very heart. To the Tomb Of Abaddon The Despoiler, to the place where he lay The Body Of Horus. He smiled The largest Irony I would be that Abaddon spent so much trying to convince himself that he Hated Horus, the Legions buried him next to the warrior he so despised. With that, his mind left the presance of the room.

A new age had dawned.

He thinks he knows so much. But when the Eye is mine, and each Daemon world bows before me; when the power of Abaddon and Horus is attained, nay, surpassed by my Legions! Marcus growled, energy involuntarily crackling about him.

I shall not be outdone by some upstart Emperor; not on the eve of my great venture; not at the cusp of my triumph