Jump 045: Warhammer 40k - Black Crusade

Jump 045: Warhammer 40k - Black Crusade

Location: Mars, Segmentum Solar
Age: 29
Identity: Human
Drawbacks: [-1700] Golden Light, Full Attention, Nobility, Rage of the Primarch

[Free]      Imperial Voice
[Free]      Stylish Brooding
[Free]      Sound Of Silence
[Free]      Beginner's Luck
[100/2700]  Heresy Detector
[300/2700]  Gothic Eternity
[400/2700]  Dominant Dedication
[500/2700]  Aesthetical Integrity
[600/2700]  Mechanicus Aide
[700/2700]  Psyker Surprise
[900/2700]  Artificer
[1200/2700] Ode To Mankind
[Free]      Mankind's Hope
[Free]      Suffer Not
[Free]      Golden Army
[Free]      Strength of the People
[Free]      Strength of the Self
[Free]      Strength of the Future
[1250/2700] Loyal And Pure
[1300/2700] Divine Purpose
[1400/2700] Guiding Sword
[1600/2700] Cleansing Rounds
[1800/2700] Cleansing Act

[1800/3200] Item Stipend (+500)
[Free]      Carapace Armor
[1850/3200] Archaeoseed
[1900/3200] Omnishield Helm
[2000/3200] C'tan Phase Sword
[2200/3200] Melee Upgrade: C'tan Phase Sword (Nemesis Force)
[2300/3200] Displacer Field
[Free]      Legacy of the Aquila
[Free]      Badge of Office
[Free]      Imperial Cloth

(0/1000)    Psyker Stipend (+1000 PP)
[3200/3200] More Power: 900 CP to PP
(600/1900)  Psyker Level: Alpha
(Free)      Discipline: Telekinesis
(900/1900)  Discipline: Telepathy
(1100/1900) Strength of Sense
(1300/1900) Psionic Vampirism
(1500/1900) Theosophany
(1700/1900) Divine Pronouncement
(1900/1900) Divine Power

Grafting Stipend (+1000 GP)
(50/1000)   Bionic Senses: Right Eye
(100/1000)  Expanded Spectrum: UV to Gamma
(150/1000)  Expanded Spectrum: IR to Radio
(250/1000)  +Necrodermis (Eye)
[Free]      Potentia Coil
(350/1000)  Skinplants
(400/1000)  Interface Port
(600/1000)  Embedded Auspex
(1000/1000) Psi Booster

Armor Stipend (+1000 AP)
(Free)      Import Armor
(Free)      STC Print
(50/1000)   Material Donation: Adamantium
(100/1000)  Material Donation: Auramite
(200/1000)  Tau Fio’Tak Principles
(400/1000)  Immaterium-Treated Armor
(700/1000)  Aegis Upgrade
(1000/1000) Lathe-Wrought

Weapon Stipend (+500 WP)
Power Charging: Living Saint (+500 WP)
(Free)      Weapon Reformation
(Free)      Purifying Flame
(Free)      Endowed Light
(100/1000)  Protective Wards
(200/1000)  Audible
(400/1000)  Spell Focus
(700/1000)  Decay Of Time
(1000/1000) Impossibly Sharp

Fortress Stipend (+1000BP)
(Free)      Original Fortress
(Free)      Autocannon Turrets
(Free)      Sabre Gun Platforms
(Free)      Basilisk Artillery Units
(Free)      Manticore Platforms
(Free)      Heavy Arachnus Blaze Cannons
(Free)      Trenches
(Free)      Mines
(Free)      Armor Plating - Material Import: Auramite
(Free)      Pillboxes
(Free)      Death Traps: Hidden Turrets
(150/1000)  Force Fields: Void Shield Arrays
(Free)      Blessed Furnace
(Free)      Purified Wards
(Free)      Barracks
(Free)      Water Filtration
(Free)      Hydroponics
(Free)      Monotask Servitors
(Free)      Hangar Bays/Landing Pads
(200/1000)  Shadowblind Bays
(Free)      Medicae Station
(Free)      Vox Chambers
(250/1000)  Vox Jammers/Interceptors
(300/1000)  Choir Chambers
(350/1000)  Extended Supply Vaults
(400/1000)  Augur Arrays
(500/1000)  Teleportarium
(600/1000)  Manufactorum
(700/1000)  Orbital Defenses
(800/1000)  Consecrated Temple
(1000/1000) Orbital Shipyards

Army Stipend (+100 Tokens)
Complication: Rage of the Primarch: Magnus the Red (+10 Tokens)
(7/110)     Primarch: Sanguinius
(14/110)    Primarch: Magnus the Red
(Free)      Emperor Angelic
(19/110)    Erda
(Free)      Army Import: II Legion
(Free)      Everlasting Armies
(Free)      Rise Of Dreadfang
(Free)      Custodes Detachment
(Free)      Golden Army
(Free)      10,000 Operators
(Free)      10,000 Guardsmen
(Free)      2,500 Techpriests
(89/110)    35,000 Adeptus Astartes (II Legion)
(104/110)   5,000 Well-Equipped Adeptus Astartes (II Legion)
(107/110)   1,000 Well-Equipped Adeptus Astartes (Lamenters)
(110/110)   1,000 Well-Equipped Adeptus Astartes (Thousand Sons)
(Free)      1,000 Aquila Manifestations

Scenario rewards:
Dark Age Colonization Tools
Celestial World
Astronomicon/Golden Webway
Sainthood

Sainthood Stipend (+1000 IP)
(Free)      Impressive Form
(Free)      Being of Souls
(Free)      Immaterial Constitution
(Free)      Immaterial Power
(Free)      From Beyond
(Free)      Stuff Of Nightmares
(Free)      Psychic Boon
(50/1000)   Powerful Armor
(100/1000)  Lord of Lies
(200/1000)  Psychic Suffocation
(400/1000)  Touched Weapon
(500/1000)  Potent Strikes
(Free)      Aura Of Purity
(700/1000)  Immeasurable Combat
(Free)      Purifying Flame
(1000/1000) Anchored Presence
(Free)      Second Chance

So... it all comes down to this, doesn't it? After that fever dream of what the Imperium would be like if the Emperor were confined to the Golden Throne forever, a shell of himself, while everything fell apart around him... certainly the Imperium isn't as one would hope it to be, but it's not the apocalyptic hellscape that it was there, if nothing else.

The greater threats to the Imperium are far from united, unlike Mankind itself. The Sigilite's machinations are ever in action, seeking to preserve humanity and the human spirit. The Adeptus Mechanicus sees to the health of the Imperium's body in both the figurative and literal sense, while the Ecclesiarchy sees to its soul - when one has an immortal God-Emperor upon the throne, worship is inevitable even if trying to promote belief in reason over all other things. And the Adeptus Astartes and Astra Militarum see to its safety.

The only way any of Mankind's enemies can prevail is by splitting apart the Imperium itself.

As the 41st millennium of human civilization drew to a close, it had been concerning to note the rise of cultists in far-flung locations. Nothing that couldn't be managed, true, but worrying nontheless. Between putting down such rebellions across the galaxy and dealing with larger threats such as the awakening Necrons and the Tyranid incursions, the manpower of the Imperium had been spread thin.

In hindsight, the Imperium being caught off its guard by the Thirteenth Black Crusade - the final Black Crusade - was not as great a surprise as it might have been. The Cadians had been holding the line against the occasional incursions for quite some time, but seeing a fleet of hulks and warships pour out of the Eye of Terror and converge upon the planet was simply more than could be resisted. No matter how skilled or brave the Imperium's warriors were, the fate of Cadia came down to the simple calculus of logistics. Eventually this became apparent and the Imperial forces committed to a fighting retreat, but Chaos' intentions were far more cruel than simply cracking and annihilating Cadia. The pylons, nigh-indestrucible towers that seemed immobile, were extracted from the planet's surface one by one. Abaddon the Despoiler was not the only one leading the forces of this Black Crusade - the daemon primarch Magnus the Red contribued his forces and his unique talents, and in a foul ritual that ensnared the souls of those countless millions who hadn't been able to evacuate from the surface of the planet with the rest of the Imperium's forces, the planet itself was brought to heel by Chaos.

Cadia, the most critical point of resistance against the Eye of Terror, was converted into a daemon world. Through this breach, the Eye of Terror opened and the Great Rift began to spread across the galaxy, eventually meeting the Maelstrom tens of thousands of light years away.

By this point of time it was known (to those whose business it was to know these things) that the II Legion had come unhinged in time in the era of the Great Crusade and the Heresy, and had been appearing in different places and times since. Only rarely would they would appear in full force with their Primarch, instead more often in smaller numbers - sometimes a fleet of ships as in the destruction of Hive Fleet Kraken, sometimes fielding forces the size of more modern chapters for great battles as in Armageddon, sometimes a handful simply appearing on the battlefield - always fighting the Imperium's foes and disappearing just as mysteriously. Some called it the Lost Legion, just as their founder was the Lost Primarch - contrasting with the Eleventh, erased even from Imperial history as the arch-traitor he had been, his actions anathemical even to the Imperium's enemies.

Thus it was less of a surprise than might be assumed by the lay person that the entirety of the II Legion reappeared as the Despoiler's forces marched across the stars.

It may have seemed more perplexing when the Legion's forces scattered across the stars instead of presenting a united front, but then it was seen that any available Imperial forces were also being diverted to intercept the forces of Chaos everywhere that they could - where they could not, the scattered Legion did. The Emperor himself sat upon his Golden Throne, ensuring the brightness of the light throughout the warp, his actions there doing more good than directly taking the field ever could have.

Through it all, Magnus' splinter of the Crusade departed from the main forces, doing its best to burn the worlds in its wake as it sought out the Lost Primarch, who had seemingly disappeared from his greater forces. Yet when it engaged with them, their firepower was superior to what it should have been. They wore armor that was unfamiliar to the daemon primarch, and were a full two feet taller than they seemingly should have been. A fact that amused him to no end, as this made the marines taller than he knew their own primarch to be. But he did not know they were Primaris - such should not even have existed, yet were very present thanks to the Legion being unstuck in time. Tzeentch gave him no hints - only that he would be given blessing equal to Abaddon's should he succeed in his mission to meet the Lost Primarch in single combat.

Magnus did, eventually, pick up the scent of the Lost Primarch in the Koronus Expanse. He'd seemingly left behind his Legion, and should have been alone, but the reports he'd been able to locate indicated otherwise. Against all odds, he had indeed arrived alone, but was picking up allies at a rapid pace. A rogue trader. Lost chapters of Astartes. Military forces, honed to fight the wars of Mankind on the ground. Scattered ships enough to build a ragtag fleet, though surely not enough to match what the Thousand Sons brought on the great hunt. And while the Lost Primarch seemed to somehow stay one step ahead of them at every turn, the margin between them grew smaller and smaller, and he knew in time Magnus would bring the loyalist to heel and break him.

Naturally, the bastard of a primarch had left behind traps, of a sort. Orks who were promised a good fight. ("The red 'umie goes fasta!" "...Wot?" "WAAAAAAAGH!" "Bloody hell.") UM-307 and hundreds of Iron Men, loyal to humanity against all odds, throwing themselves in his way. ("We are who we choose to be." "Wot?" "Superman..." "Oh, bollocks..!") Automated defense systems orbiting a dead world. ("Your presence has been catalogued." "Wot?!" "Defenses activated. I am the monument of your pride." "BLOODY FUCKING 'ELL!") And with every such encounter, Magnus' ire grew even as his forces began to feel the pain of attrition.

At last, it became clear what the Second Primarch's goal was: following in the footsteps of the Emperor himself, all those forgotten millennia ago. It was a world with dubious history - Magnus was privy to knowledge that most weren't. It was the world where the Emperor gained the knowledge to create the Primarchs, only to renege on the terms promised. It was the world where Horus petitioned Chaos, and became more than merely the Warmaster, but instead the Arch-Heretic. And with the Lost Primarch seeking it out... whatever he intended could not be allowed, for who could know what a loyalist would bring about?

>The answer is tea.
>Crux is sitting down for tea.
>Suddenly Sanguinius falls through the ceiling onto the couch, half past dead.
>Crux stares at him blankly. Opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. Pours him a cup of tea.
>Sanguinius, confused as anything, keyed up on adrenaline, takes the cup with bemusement and forces himself to sit up. Oddly, he feels his body suffused with energy and his wounds begin to close.
>Crux shouts into the other room, "Mom, Red, we have company!"
>From down the hall comes a shout, "I told you to stop calling me that!"
>A reply, "I will as soon as you stop calling me a midget!"
>Sanguinius stares at his tea. Then looks up as his brother as a woman enters the room. "Could you please explain why I hear the voice of a traitor in the other room, how you're still breathing, and ..." He falters, and continues weakly, "I... I know you. How do I know you?"
>With a sigh, Crux pours three more cups of tea; one for himself, one for Erda, and one for the red-skinned primarch that enters the room. "Little brother, let me tell you the story of my life. Picture if you will, the great city of Uruk. The greatest of mankind's early cities, now dust and buried under sand and the cities of Holy Terra... when I was called Gilgamesh, fifty thousand years ago. The first true king of Mankind."

With the Lost Primarch's goal confirmed, Magnus' priorities changed. Instead of sallying forth to get long-denied vengeance, he instead realized he needed to deny him his objective at all costs. And with a few choice sacrifices and profane rituals, he reached out to Abaddon and explained it; whether or not anything truly could be done there, the Lost Primarch couldn't be permitted to make the attempt. And so the Black Crusade split from its objective, all of its forces now concentrating on a single place: the world of Molech. And when Abaddon reached out to his patrons, whispered words returned, ordering the slaying of what they now called the Lesser Anathema with urgency.

Magnus' fleet engaged the II Legion's light years distant from their objective, and found itself outgunned - but rather than engaging, they fled to the system that contained Moloch itself. The planet had been conquered by Horus and his traitorous kin, and then "liberated" during the Great Scouring - if liberation is indeed an accurate word. At this late date, it was largely overgrown with wildlife that would be as home on Cadia as here, kept at bay by the Knight Houses and a garrison of Blood Angels.

The Thousand Sons' fleet charged toward the planet unheeding the massive volume of fire being sent their way - were they successful, Magnus would claim the planet for Chaos, or at least enlist the aid of the reinforcements that Abaddon was sending his way. Surely Abaddon had his own designs, but they at least had a common goal. On their approach to the planet, they certainly they took a notable percentage of the ships down, but that's sadly irrelevant when the objective is to bulldoze through the defenses rather than destroy them. Those few captains who refused the blatantly suicidal orders of Magnus the Red were swiftly eliminted and replaced with those willing to obey.

The ruins of Lupercalia thus became the final resting place of dozens of Chaos' voidships. They weren't designed to make planetary entry. They weren't designed to set down safely. And, enraged, Magnus screamed orders to proceed full speed ahead to the city. As the fleet streaked through the skies to its final destination it disgorged every drop pod it had, massive pillars of fire spitting embers across the planet's surface. Some ships managed to remain intact, if damaged. Some burned partially on entry to the atmosphere. The Scion of Prospero itself landed undamaged, prow buried straight into the planetary surface, its weapons serving to act to deny outsiders entry into the ruins. And finally, Magnus had teleported himself and a small army of Thousand Sons onto the surface, through the crackling warp storms that surrounded the planet.

From the wreckage of the ships, the surprisingly large numbers of chaos cultists poured forth. Magnus was happy to let the cannon fodder clear the ruins of the wildlife that had overgrown it in the centuries since Horus had levelled it - rather lighter than expected in fact - but he had his goals set further afield. At the appointed time that Tzeentch had whispered to him, hours after his arrival, his opponent's forces took to the field. A portal was opened, though in its haste it was not one that could be enlarged, only provide reinforcements from Abaddon's fleet as it arrived... reinforcements sorely needed.

While Abaddon's fleet exchanged fire with the Lost Legion in orbit as it too came to the battlefield, the Lost Legion took to the field with more allies than Magnus could have imagined. Felinids. Holy knights. Korvikemo. Imperial Guard. Sisters of Battle. Sisters of Silence. Custodes. Astartes from no less than three chapters, and the Lost Legion itself. A microcosm of what the Imperium's forces could be, working together in almost disturbing harmony in battle. Steadily pushing Chaos' forces back, even with more desperate reinforcements and warp horrors coming through Chaos' portals, steadily chipping away at their defenses and the ships' armaments, against all odds.

The fated moment arrived soon enough, and Cyclopean Magnus met the Lost Primarch in combat. Neither bothered with a helmet, neither truly needed it, though the Lost Primarch was not as he unexpected. His armor was the matte gray and gold of adamantium and auramite, but not in any recognizable style. The weapons wielded, one hand consistently held a blade, an impossibly augmented C'Tan phase sword, the other constantly switching weapons without seeming to take them out or put them away. One eye a black cybernetic, a burning neon green iris watching his every move. And as they fought amidst the battlefield, blades and psionics and weapons flashing, they spoke to one another.

>"Still coming up short, Number Two? I thought you'd finally be taller by now but it's good to see you've grown into your armor! You always were an excellent artificer."
"Thanks! I'll have to get you something nice for your birthday. You know, if you ever stop wanting to kill dad."
>"Flippant as ever, /Clark/," the name hissed like an expletive. "You would keep the most /common/ of human names."
"We were meant to guard humanity, never conquer it! We are men! We are meant to help one another, lift each other up! Not drag each other down like crabs in a bucket! We were supposed to make the galaxy a better place!"
>"Pretty words from a petty despot, that saw you cast into exile, saw our sons dead! Saw our brothers dead! Saw the best two among us struck down by each other..."
"A heresy may have been inevitable, but not eternal war, damn you, Magnus. Had we pacified the galaxy, had we stayed the course, we all would have had our own places."
>"Under his heel!"
"As warrior-kings under an Emperor! Besides, only Horus fell aboard that barge. Sanguinius yet lives."
>"Impossible."
"He lives, as shall you, brother. Behold."

The Lost Primarch lifted his weapon and took a step back, indicating to Magnus' right, an unspoken cease-fire for just a handful of moments. And in those moments he beheld an unbelievable sight. Not only Sanguinius, thought slain ten thousand years hence but instead brought forward through a hole in the Warp, but... himself. A mirror image, blinded in one eye, but the opposite of himself. Magnus blinked, rubbed his face and reached out with the slightest tendril of the warp, blinked again with the confirmation, then turned back to his opponent.

"I know not what trickery you are using, nor what you intend to do here, but I shall not permit it," Magnus said as he gritted his teeth.

The Lost Primarch looked slightly puzzled, then bemused. "Do? I'm not a storybook villain. Do you seriously think I'd meet you on the field of battle if there remained the slightest chance of being stopped?"

Magnus' face paled. "No," he breathed.

"I did it thirty-five hours ago," he continued. He motioned to the side, where the other Magnus and Sanguinius had fought through to the area cleared around the two Primarchs' fight; they held weapons at the ready, but did not engage. And around them the battle continued, steadily continuing to turn in the Lost Legion's favor.

"No. No!" Magnus shook his head in denial, trying to lash out at his opponent with his powers, finding them muffled, and negated before they could reach him. "Damnation!"

"I am so much more than even you can comprehend, Magnus," he said, voice almost gentle, his weapons having disappeared. "To others, I seem to step through time, my legion carried in my wake. The Empyrean is becalmed at my touch. The Doom of Commorragh moves according to my whim. I set the Necrons on the path against their ancient and degraded enemies, the Orks. I've turned this world into the rock upon which the wave of the Last Black Crusade will break. I moved my retinue months into the past to bring the Gate to proper function. If I desired, I could turn your armies to dust with a snap of my fingers. I have served in every capacity that exists in the armies of Mankind, from Techpriest to Guardsman to Inquisitor to Sister of Battle-"

"Sister of Battle?" the other Magnus asked, a grin on his face.

"-and yes, I can and have shifted my form including into a woman to achieve certain purposes, confirming the existence of the female multiple orgasm among other reasons thank you very much Magnus," he continued without a pause. "I'd like to believe at the core of every person, there is a spark of good in them. It might be faint. It might be pushed down or snuffed out. But that potential is there. Except, in you." With a vague motion toward the other Magnus, he continued, "Your spark of goodness is... right there. Waiting to rejoin you. Willingly surrendered to your patron, without realizing why. Over the years you've shattered yourself, bits and pieces of your essence scattered around the Warp."

Magnus now looked at his doppelganger, truly looked, for the first time. "This is... impossible."

With a grin, the reply came. "Oh, absolutely. And yet there you are. The Anatolian went into the portal first, then the Warlord. But the forces that stir about in the Immaterium like balance, and so a third amused them, and thus a Babylonian entered."

"Babylonian?" Magnus echoed.

"Eh, you'll know after you give yourself a hug. Tzeentch promised you a reward for meeting me on the field of battle, did he not? Your reward awaits. Really, he was an absolute pleasure to parlay with, no matter how contradictory his nature. But I spoke to all of the Four... and I cut a deal with them."

Magnus did a double take. "You... what?"

The grin widened. "Oh, yes. And then I did not. You see, a deal was reached! Making one of their champions whole, in return for returning one of the Emperor's to his side. But I did not say who until they agreed. Sanguinius' tomb contains a dead flash-grown clone - no worries about mutations when the clone never had life to begin with. Of course, each of the Four had different terms, and it was quite an effort to placate them all... well, except Khorn, that guy seems to like me." A shrug, and then he continued, "Of course they expected I was going to pull something similar with Horus, and instead it was you! Oh, the gnashing of teeth, the wailing of Slaanesh... honestly I think she got off on it... but do you have any idea how long I spent searching the Warp for every last bit of you? It was not easy, I tell you. So, I dragged your better half out of the Warp and made the arrangements to have Sanguinius delivered in time for tea. I didn't expect them to take it so literally..."

Magnus looked on, a bit lost. And more than a bit irritated. "Will you get to your thrice-bedamned point?"

"Ah, of course, forgive me," replied the Lost Primarch. "That, of course, was not why I entered the Gate to begin with. There are Imperial Saints, as you well know... but I wanted to know more. Is it possible to become a Saint not in service to a God-Emperor? Well... short answer's no, long answer is it's complicated." A pair of ethereal wings unfolded behind him, flexed briefly, then folded into nonexistence again. "But then, I was only interested in whether it were possible. A Primarch, of his own Talons, with a sliver of his soul entwined with mine? There was never a question as to whether I'd serve him."

With an inclining of the Lost Primarch's head, the second Magnus stepped to the first and clasped his wrist before the two merged in a flash of golden light. Now whole, Magnus looked on with both eyes as the Primarch Ascendant continued, "After all, I've stolen one of his sons back from Chaos to bring him home."

"I've won, Magnus. And so has all humanity. Come home."