Imperium Ascendant

Book II: The Great Crusade

Chapter Twenty-Three: On Silver Wings

Location: Bel-Haust, Capital hive of Hossak.

Date: 890.M30

The Entrance into the Hive-Spire was a gaping maw, easily large enough to fit a Land Raider. Sunlight seemed to end the moment it crossed the threshold, forming a wall of impenetrable darkness. Without fear, Dante and his guard marched forward. The sixteen Astares of the Ophanim chosen by Azkaellon formed a ring of steel around the Primarch with Azkaellon himself at its head, always ready to fight and die for his Primarch.

The Darkness seemed almost solid, a substance that swallowed light. Leaving the IX Legion elite blind outside the aura of Radiance coming from there Primarch. Dante reached out with his spiritual senses and examined the darkness. It was a product of Alien warp-craft. A Miasma designed to give the Khrave the wretched Darkness they so loved. While capable of braving natural and artificial light the Khrave are naturally beings of the shadows. This pall of shadows would not do. He was the Emperor's Archangel and where Dante went, illumination followed.

Dante could feel the impure presence of the Khrave slithering in the darkness. Insectoid eyes and Xeno witch sight locked upon the Primarch. Umbric creatures assessing the Angels that had cut through there kindred. Strands of psychic energy reached out from the Khrave, looking for any weakness or crack in the Angels psyche. Some flaw or insecurity they could exploit. Such psychic arts made the hunt easier and the prey sweeter. The Primarch felt this web of alien intellect weaving around him. Unable to touch his light, but coveting him all the same. The Khrave consumed the mind and soul of their victim. Growing in psychic power with each meal. Devouring a Primarch would elevate even the lowliest Khrave to the elite of the Rangda Empire. Dane let the Xenos observe him as he analyzed them. In his earlier fight he had sensed something amiss.

The incredible psychic senses of the Archangel picked up "blindspots" woven through the Khrave. Gossamer holes in the warp, lines traced through the Xeno flesh that Dante was blind to. "Blanks" muttered the Primarch, it was like the Khrave had a singular organ system that was warp-neutral. Every sentient organism registered Warp positive as a Psyker. Neutral as a blank or negative as a Pariah. A being could lie anywhere on the scale but not at two places at the same time. And yet, the Khrave seemed to be part Blank. Like some separate organism infested its worm-body. It seemed the parasites had parasites of their own. No matter, the Adepts of Mars would pull the secrets from the Khrave once their stronghold fell.

Ending his observation the Primarch gathered his spiritual power, wrapping his body with an aurora of psychic light. Drawing the attention of the Khrave within the Hive-Spire entrance to him. If the first mistake the Xenos made was not running the moment the Emperor's Angels arrived, this would be their last. Dante let loose a blast of light. A psychic wave of warp-energy and photons brighter than an Atomic Weapon and more Divine than a million miracles. The Khrave screamed, screeching in agony in every way they could. Filling the air with a cacophony of Xeno screeches, warning pheromones and psychic discharges. The Light blinded them, rupturing unprotected insectoid eyes, scarring stolen ocular tissue and driving the Xenos warp tendrils back.

The Illumination drove back the darkness and revealed the chamber and its occupants. It was a great atrium and dockyard. Arched and ribbed like ancient Cathedrals and the bones of long-dead monsters. Hundreds of Khrave had hidden in the shadows. Shied away from the Primarchs light and looking to strike. Now they grasped at ruined photo-receptors and fled blindly deeper into the Spire. The Xenos had little time to suffer. The Steel of the IX Legion cut them down by the dozen. The Astartes did not suffer in the light of Dante. Instead, they were renewed, the power within their Geneseed invigorated by its source. The Primarch and his sons spread out, cutting down the blinded Xenos with calm precision. A tide of Astartes joined the Ophanim and Dante. An army of transhuman Angels eager to spill Xeno ichor.

Each squad of Astartes fought as one, forming whirling storms of death. Wings, swords and claws mowing down the Khrave. Some of the more capable Xenos started to react, summoning blades and shields of Psychic energy. These Warp-Glamours, as the Khrave called them, were adaptable and powerful. Capable of slicing through power-armor and violating any tissue it touched. Inflicting excruciating pain and requiring excision of effected tissue for any healing to occur. These weapons would not save the Khrave. Where each of the Xenos on average was stronger than an Astartes they could not face down the IX Legion elite as they worked in concert. Even though they were Angels the IX fought like every Legion was meant to, a wolfpack acting in unison to tear their enemies to pieces.

Dante led the charge, each of his blades batting aside Khrave like a sharpened wind. The twin blades of white and black along with the Primarch's wings slashed Xeno warriors apart. Each blow was supersonic, cleaving Dante's foes apart and blasting the pieces with the raw kinetic force within the strikes. The Khrave farthest from the Primarchs psychic blast were charging into the fray. Quickly regrowing damaged eyes and shaking off the traumatic surge of light. It was then the second wave of Astartes arrived, the heavier transports had followed behind the Primarchs flight and were now discharging their cargo. A new noise was added to the song of battle. The Khrave screeches, Astartes battle cries, and clash of steel was joined by the thunder of guns. Angels of the Bull-Host in Terminator Armor accompanied by Brimstone-Hosts with their Volkite Cannons and Boltguns had arrived.

As unstoppable as an asteroid impact, the Terminators marched forward. Armed with mighty Thunder Hammers, Storm Shields and boltguns mounted upon their armored wings. Marked with the Winged-Bull sigil of the IX Legion's second branch they smashed through the Khrave. The Brimstone-Host in turn fanned out, finding gaps in the battle to fire their awesome weapons. Where the Bull-Host had wings of thick metal with weapon mounts capable of acting as shields and turrets. The Brimstone-Host lacked true wings, instead advanced mechadendrites armed with heavy weapons were faceted to the pseudo-limb projecting from their back.

The IX Legion advanced into the Spire, following the Archangel and destroying any resistance. The Primarch had increased his psychic aura to a shining sphere of light that burnt away the Warp-darkness the Khrave produced. As steady as the sun's rising Dante led his legion into the Hive. His wings restless to fly the Primarch charged forward. Mowing through Khrave and traitor infantry with ease. Dante knew the goal ahead of them. The massive central transport at the Spire's heart. Wrapped around the Hives core was a system of lifts and vertical railways that formed the main form of transportation within Bel-Haust. It would be heavily defended. Yet susceptible from attacks from higher levels. The defenses were designed against invasion or insurrection starting at the Hives-base. That was not the way Angels fought, they did not slog through sieges and grind their enemies to dust. They struck from the heavens and cast their foes down.

Through all of the chaos of the battlefield, Dante kept in contact with the fleet. A mixture of Vox and telepathic communication allowing the Primarch to lead the ground battle and oversee the orbital and aerial combat. Tank columns both of Astartes and Auxilia had landed around the Hive. Smashing through any and all resistance in the Hives outskirts. Rapidly approaching its base. With the Stormbirds and Interceptors harassing the Hive top, the Armored forces attacking the bottom and the deep striking host attacking the tower from within. The Khrave and Bel defenses were stretched thin. The sight of the Angels attacking across Bel-Haust had stunned and shocked its human occupants. With the less indoctrinated citizens and soldiers of the Hive turning on their overlords in frantic attempts to earn the forgiveness of the invading Legion.

Through all of this, the Primarch prepared himself. His foresight had shown him the defenses of Hossak in their near entirety. Including the one thing upon this infested world that could threaten the Imperial offense. The true guardian of Hossak. From the moment the IX Legion entered the orbit of the planet, Dante could feel it. An inscrutable alien presence slumbering within Bel-Haust hive. From an outside perspective, it seemed Hossak was only moderately defended. It was a Rangda farming world at the edge of their controlled space. Something of reasonable tactical importance, yet not defended by more than a Khrave occupation and traitor humans. This seeming weakness was a trap. A trap the Imperial Archangel had sprung with full awareness of it. Hossak was rich in natural resources aside from the "livestock" for the Rangda. It would be the perfect bait for any rising galactic civilization. Attacking Hossak would demonstrate the civilization that fell for the bait was powerful enough to do so. New prey presenting itself to the Rangda Empire. A healthy rising galactic power, perfect fodder for the Halo Stars' masters.

Attacking Hossak tied down an invading force in a siege. Giving the Rangda time to gather their forces and seek out the new prey. If the attackers were powerful enough, however. They would activate a surprise the Rangda left on Hossak. A weapon that would not only break the offense upon Hossak but traumatize the invaders, making them easy for Rangda consumption. That weapon now awoke, the trap had been sprung and the first calls to war were starting deep in the Galactic North. Now it fell to Dante to destroy the weapon and claim Hossak before the Rangda could be fully roused. As the IX Legion descended into the Hive, the Rangda weapon opened its un-eyes and watched the Primarch. Soon it would come for the Emperor's son.

After nearly an hour of fighting into the Hive-Spire, Dante and the IX Legion reached the nearest part of the transport core. A great chainhauler that formed a line of building-sized palettes being cycled from the bottom of the hive to its very top. Even as the battle raged around it the chainlift continued its movement. Rotating the massive palettes through the hive. Stopping as they connected with each section of the hive. Giving absent workers time to move cargo. Dante approached the nearest cargo container. The Primarch knew what was in each of the boxes. He had known when he first peered into the future of this battle. Still, he hoped he would be wrong. That just maybe this time was one of those times his visions failed him. Sheathing his silver sword Dante pulled one of the boxes from its setting and ripped its top off with one even motion. The container gave easily under the Primarch's grip. Icy slime started to ooze from the box, pooling onto the floor, filling the Primarch's nostrils with the scent of industrial coolant that did little to hide the other smell coming from the container. That of frozen flesh.

With an armored hand Dante wiped away layers of the slime, until the box's content was visible. It was a human body. That of a child, probably thirteen at the oldest. Shaved of all hair and emaciated. It took Dante a moment to realize he was looking at a girl. Her flesh was distorted by growth stimulants, inadequate sustenance, and a short lifetime of hardship. Her eyes stared up blankly, the terror of her death captured in a rictus. A series of brands marked her abdomen. Some long healed and stretched by years of growth, others inflicted after her death. All markings in the Rangda tongue, serial numbers. With surprising gentleness from a transhuman warlord, Dante stroked the child's face with a single, hulking digit. With a motion, he shut the girl's eyes. Pulling away from the murdered child Dante whispered words of power and summoned golden flames, turning the body before him to ash.

Faster than even his honor guard could react, Dante grabbed another coffin from the stack and stared down at another dead child. Alien chemicals had swollen these children to the size of adults, increasing the development of bones, neural tissue and other organic matter the Rangda Empire hungered for. Repeating his earlier actions, the Primarch cremated the remains and moved onto another coffin. Then another and another. At that moment, Dante hated his transhuman genius. From just a glance around him, he automatically calculated how many bodies were on the palette. ten thousand human children were boxed as food upon the massive palette. A million for every cycle of the chainlift. The product of hundreds of city-farms across Hossak. All being transported up into the void to feed a ravenous Empire of monsters.

Igniting the entire palette with a wave of his hand, Dante stepped away from it. The IX Legion were spreading out across the hive. The Bull-Host were smashing their way into the upper hive's more fortified sections. Khrave resistance was fierces but barely able to slow down the Astartes. The Hayyoth and other Legion high command were performing excellently. Reports of entire cities across Hossak falling were trickling back. The outer perimeter of Bel-Haust had fallen. The Imperial Armor cracking the walls under sheer power of ordinance. Scouts were observing the first retreats. Both Khrave defenders and Bel traitors were feeling the pressure. The Khrave were not a warrior-breed. They were meant to find and control food sources for their Masters. The Bel, in turn, had lived more than a century engaging in the worst crimes mankind could commit. No matter how much propaganda or Xeno taint they swallowed, something inside them knew what they were doing was wrong. Not even out of a sense of morality, but a fear of punishment once held accountable.

Reaching out telepathically, Dante spoke to the Hayyoth and gave operational command to them. The force within the Hive would locate the shield generators and destroy them. He trusted his eldest sons to perform admirably. They were creatures of war, designed to fight and win even the worst conflicts. The Primarch was different, more than just a tool of war. He was an ancient divinity given flesh. Power reclaimed on Moloch, clad in physical form crafted by mankind's genius. Dante was the Angel of Mankind. Born to watch, to protect, and to destroy. Since the earliest days of human history, the greatest of crimes were believed to be punished by divine retribution. Angels of Death, Destroying Angels, Wrath of Gods, Heavenly Judgement, Divine Watchers, Tool of Smiting. So many terms for that primal idea. The idea that powers beyond anything that primitive man could imagine would protect the weak and punish the wicked.

Dante was that idea, and many more. He surrendered the burden of command to his sons and embraced his truest nature. Plunging his silver and black swords into the hive floor with such strength it did not just pierce the metal but cracked it in twenty meters around him, Dante spread his wings wide and roared a challenge to the Hive of the Damned. "FACE ME!"

A shockwave blasted through the hive like the Trumpet of Revelations, shattering glass and cracking stone for miles in every direction. Thousands upon thousands of Bel throughout the Hive-Spire were deafened instantly. Khrave were brought low by the psychic detonation. The Primarch's challenge was shouted into both sides of existence. Rippling through the Warp and the Hive's atmosphere equally. Dante wanted to call out the Weapon the Rangda left. Let the Archangel face a monster worthy of his wrath. It was more than willing.

The entire Hive of Bel-Haust felt something shift.. Across the billions of mortals inhabiting the Hive, a vague sense of vertigo spread. A feeling that some cavernous pit had been opened. An abyss widening to swallow them all. The fear and tension from the battle boiled over. Weak willed traitors had their minds snapped by an Angels Wrath and an abominations awakening. The screaming started across the hive. Thousands leapt willingly to their deaths, weeping and laughing as they went. Riots broke out as entire Hab-blocks descended into mob-frenzy.

All while something primordial rose from below the Hive. Every soul-bearing creature within fifty kilometers could feel it. The Imperial Auxilia were rattled, but quickly recovered. They had been trained for worse. Fighting alongside Angels, the Auxilia pushed through the pain and fought on. From the Hive's deepest core something slithered higher and higher. Feeling it coming closer, Dante was reminded of a well rapidly filling with putrid water. A rising tide of evil that flowed upwards through the hive's central channels. After a long moment, the presence rose up to the level Dante stood upon. Slowly the Primarch raised his swords and changed stance. He could feel an ugly intelligence pressing against his soul.

"Come monster, face your judgment."Dante spat, igniting psychic flames and power-fields upon his weapons. A thunderous crash of ripping metal and breaking stone was the xeno's response. The Rangda safeguard had pulled itself up from its nest through the thermal exchange tunnel at the Hives center. Now it barreled through the structure of Bel-Haust to reach its target. The local hive shook with impact after impact as the monster smashed through the superstructure. Not caring for obstacles or path of least resistance. It simply charged a straight line forward. Hive-Quakes started to rattle through the acrology from the damage inflicted. Dante paid them no head. His mind and body focused on whatever was coming for him.

With nightmarish force, the monster smashed through its final obstacle. Entering the Dockyard the Primarch and his honor guard stood within. It was fast, too fast even for Astartes. Smashing Azkellion and his Brothers away with a lash of power the monster reached its target. Limb/Blade/Things came down upon Dante's crossed blades with the force of artillery. The Primarch did not move, but the steel beneath him buckled slightly from the blow. Staring at his foe Dante felt its name upon his lips. A name that would be the last frantic scream of millions of Imperial soldiers in the years to come. The title was given to the most powerful of the Rangda War-Breeds. One earned through impossible actions and nightmarish power. "Theophage, God-Eater."

In the coming years, the Imperium would learn the truth of the Rangda. How they were naturally Blanks. Protected from the dangers of the warp, and yet still capable of using its power through accursed methods. When a Rangda infests a host body, it devours it fully. The Xeno consumed their soul and used it as fuel for Psychic Arts. The Khrave and some other vassal-breeds were designed to be naturally psychic and capable of gaining bits of power from what they consumed. Yet they were still weak to the threats of the Warp. True Rangda however, were different. Long ago they had altered there very connection to the Warp. Becoming a species of Blanks, protected from Chaos and many dangers of the Warp. Still, these parasites were unwilling to give up the powers of the immaterium. They learned the art of feeding on souls as well as flesh. Using the broken fragments of there victims warp-presence to power biological sorcery. Devouring sentient beings and fueling alien rituals and warp-craft. The ultimate defilement and consumption of there prey.

Strong Warbreeds of Rangda could take this dread parasitism to its next level. Taking a host claimed by another power for themselves. Infecting and devouring Daemons of Chaos. Capturing Daemonhosts and manifested Neverborn and consuming them entirely. This required a force of will and power beyond most any mortal breed is capable. And yet, it was not the pinnacle of these warp-eating arts. The greatest of the greatest Rangda hunted the chosen of the Dark Gods. Daemon Princes, Greater Daemons, Heralds and other servants/pieces of the Four. That is a Theophage. A predator of Greater Daemons, chaos itself enslaved and devoured by Rangda might. No longer fueling its power with scraps of souls but the digested remains of the Dark Gods chosen.

Hossak lacked the usual swarm of Neverborn found at places of great atrocity. Not because of the broken nature of the discarded soul-stuff. Because they feared a predator greater than themselves. Now that monster faced down the IX Primarch. The Theophage of Hossak, hungering to taste the Anathema's child.

Greater Daemons in the material are masses of Warp-Power wrapped around a host body, given context and form by the Daemon's nature. Soul-Bearers saw the Daemon through the lens of its story. A being made of massacre and bloodshed appeared as winged hulks with horns and a greatsword. The product of pandemics appeared as a bloated rotten corpse carried by swarms of vermin. Theophages had no such context. They were not the result of emotions or events within the Warp. They were all that power consumed by an Alien mind, forged into a living weapon. The Theophage before the Primarch looked like a hole. A gap in reality that shifted and moved like an animal. Inverted space shaped in a vaguely humanoid form. Flashes of light, sound, and emotion flickered across/through/into the Theophages body. If the Primarch focused he could make out a vague shape underneath the "unshape of its body" A nightmarish visage of human and alien features together and marred by ancient battle-scars.

The Theophage spoke, not telepathically or by any conventional means. It sucked air into itself creating some inversion of speech. Speaking in a vacuum staccato of phrases plucked from humans it devoured. "Hibernating-Rock-Valuable-Now. Punishment-Guard-Complete. Wake-Spawn-Unleash-Death-Feed-FEED-FEED-Enemy-God-Ours."

Dante responded with a snarl and slashed his swords at the Theophage. It created tendril/limbs similar to Khrave Warp-Glamours to block his blows. Blades made of flickering madness lashed out at the Primarch. Imperial metal and Rangda Warp-flesh clashing faster than the human eye could react. Dante deflected a blow aiming for his head and the Theophage spun its body with the force of its blow. Redirecting the impact at a nearby Ophanim guard. Reducing the Astartes to a bloody smear upon the ground. Cursing himself Dante charged forward. Catching the Theophages arm-blades with his Wings. The Primarch thrust his twin blades through the monster's shoulders. Twisting his blades in deeper, Dante pushed off the ground with tremendous force. Launching himself and the Theophage hundreds of feet upward. Crashing them into the vaulted ceiling of the Dockyard.

Letting go of his swords Dante wrapped his armored hands around what he thought was the Theophages throat. The impact into the ceiling had freed Dantes wings and let him put them to full use. Transhuman muscle and incredible telekinetic force combined to propel Primarch and Theophage towards the Dockyard's gate. With each mighty downthrust of the Archangels wings the duo flew faster and faster. The swords lodged in the Theophages body burned its unflesh, making it flicker and twitch like a weak vox transmission. Gripping its throat seared Dantes hands. The caustic, broken nature of the Theophage rot/melted the auramite of the Primarchs gauntlets, forcing the Primarch to grip the barely contained Warp-Stuff of the Theophage with his bare skin. The pain of what was tantamount to sticking his hands into the Warp itself was nothing to Dante compared to his sons and subjects dying from his failures. He dragged the Theophage out of the dockyard and into the open sky of Hossak, blasting past entire Astartes squads before they could react.

As the soot-filled sky of Hossak surrounded the pair Dante let go. Ripping his swords from the Theophage and landing an armored kick to the monster's torso before disengaging. Flying up with a flap of his wings Dante watched the Theophage fall. Sending a telepathic message to Azkellon and the other Ophanim. Dante ordered them to assist in the destruction of the Bel-Haust shields. Turning his attention back to the falling Theophage. Dante felt disgust as he watched the new form it had taken. While still a gap in reality roughly shaped into a humanoid shape. It now flew up to challenge him in a twisted way. The Theophage's body seemed to undulate, swell and deflate like a Terran cephalopod, letting it move through the air like those ancient creatures do through water.

The Theophages arms stretched into long sinuous tendrils that reached out towards the Primarch. The air shimmered close to the Theophage as if the atmosphere itself wanted to move away from this Warp-wrapped creature. Dante could feel the Theophage's hunger boiling in the Warp. The creature made no attempt to disguise or hide its alien thoughts, broadcasting a palpable desire to crack open the Primarchs skull and devour his brain and nervous system. Even clad in an exoskeleton of stolen Warp-Power the Rangda was still a Cerabvore. Its tendrils lashed out at Dante and the Primarch easily dodged the blow. The Theophage seemed to pause for a moment and extend its senses outward feeling the losing battle across the Hive. Even as its ravening hunger for powerful flesh and souls gnawed away at it. The Theophage was no stupid beast. Quite the opposite in fact. It was of the highest pedigree of Rangda war-breeds. Cultivated in the flesh of a Vargheist host and trained from hatching to hunt Neverborn. Much like the Primarch it faced, the Theophage was more than a supremely powerful combatant. It was also a commander and force multiplier.

In an echoing vocalization that swept through the Warp and atmosphere, the Theophage reached out to the defenders of Bel-Haust, giving an order in the language of Rangda. Human tongues lack the ability to adequately describe the meaning of the order. The closest one could come is a proclamation meaning "Hatch-Rise-Awake-Rebirth-Claim-Defend-Unleash". As the command echoed through the Hive of Bel-Haust something started to change. A shift in the Khrave and human traitor armies fighting against Imperium. For unbeknownst to the Imperium the Rangda word for Farm or Agriculture has another simultaneous meaning. Nest and Nursery. Hossak was far more than a simple agrarian world meant to raise human cattle to slaughter. It was a breeding ground for the children of Rangda.

The Khrave were created in ages past by the Rangda to travel the stars, searching for sentient species to consume. Yet that was not all they were born to do. The word Khrave itself translates into Gothic as "Scavenging-Womb." Born as parasitic worms that infest stolen flesh. The Khrave find populations to conquer and devour then. Once the food source is secured and the first shipments of Brains, Bone and Bodies flow to the Core Worlds of Rangda. The Great House of the Empire that owned the Khrave conquerors would bless them with their seed. The viral life form known as the Rangda wound infect the Khrave and their host bodies. Infesting the jubilant Khrave. Slowly turning both Khrave-Worm and augmented host-body into the body of a Rangda Clan-Member.

The Rangda infection can spread rapidly, taking over entire worlds. Subverting entire populations from the inside out as they devour their nervous systems. However, that method was not the preferred. Saved for the lower castes and times of trouble. Rangda of higher pedigree were nurtured by their sire-Houses. Slowly gestating inside selected host-bodies for years or decades. Before emerging stronger and smarter. The Khrave were created to aid this process. Stealing useful bodies for their Masters and protecting them while enhancing the flesh. Waiting for the Rangda infection to spread into their own nervous system. Ending the life-cycle of the Khrave and starting that of the Rangda.

The Khrave worm even provides a valuable distraction for any enemies. They will rip out the worm and leave the seemingly dead husk behind. Not knowing a Rangdan Cerebivore or Osseivore grew within. Leaving the Rangda to survive another day. Or be awakened prematurely if needed, along with all its other kin. And that's precisely what the Theophage intended to do. Awaken the hundreds of thousands of Rangda growing within the Khrave, living or dead. At first, nothing seemed to happen. The battle continued as it had with Astartes cutting through the Khrave with methodical ease. Then the Khrave stopped dying. Bolt shells would rip the head off a Khrave warrior and it would keep coming. Melta fire turned its torso into burning sludge and the Xenos limbs kept operating there weapons. Across the Hive, the Astartes and Auxilia were caught off guard. Champion duelists turned away from bisected enemies to the newest foe. Then catch a blade into their armored ribs from the awakened Rangda.

Khrave bodies left to rot suddenly started to stir. Sparks of Warp-Energy channeled through cyborganic sorcery knitting bone, tissue and plastic back together. The IX Legion no longer faced a Khrave occupation force. Instead a newborn generation of Rangda. Sentient viral colonies that had slumbered now awoke and took command of the bodies prepared for them. Knowledge and skills woven into these spawns of the Rangda Clans and Houses kicked in. The primitive Warp-Glamours of the Khrave were cast aside. Flesh and metal impregnated with Warp Energy filtered through alien minds was unsheathed. Gouts of Necrotizing light that turned limbs to rotten stumps flashed. Horrible spikes of steel coated in a film of infected mucus extended from healing limbs.

Within Bel-Haust, Azkaellon led a force of Astartes through the darkened halls of the Upper Hive. They had followed the Primarchs orders and cut their way towards the nexus of the Hives peak and left a trail of broken corpses in their wake. The leader of the Primarch's Honor Guard flashed his blades as his company of Heroes was surrounded. Fallen Khrave from behind them rose up as Rangda and defenders before them awoke devastating power. Azkaellon hacked through an attacking Rangda Cerebvore as four of its comrades latched onto a Bull-Host terminator. Even through the thick ceramite shell of the armor, Azkaellon could hear the dying screams of fury and pain from his battle-brother. The Rangda had peeled the Terminators helmet off with lacerating tentacle-swords. Now the largest of the Four Xenos shoved cruel feeder limbs into the Astartes brain. Devouring him as he thrashed in his death throes.

Roaring in fury Azkaellon brandished his wings. Transhuman muscle and archotech metal throwing Rangda war-forms aside with ease. The Herald of the Primarch drew his bolt pistol and took aim at the feeding Xeno. Switching to Inferno rounds, the Captain-Commander of the Ophanim opened fire. A storm of gyro-jets burning hot enough to melt steel pounded into the Rangda, knocking the Xeno off its victim and letting Azkaellon pour more bolts into it. It still thrashed and attempted to stand even as the burning Bolts tore through its flesh. Yet as it burned it grew slower and more sluggish. The Rangda virus acting as a nervous system dying from the heat. As the last round of the Bolt-Pistol exited the magazine Azkaellon drove his blade into the Rangda's body. Hacking it to pieces with merciless efficiency. Ripped to burning shreds the scraps of the Rangda showed no sign of life. Ordering his force to switch to energy or superheated projectiles Azkaellon rallied the Angels and they fought forwards. Burning and ripping the Rangda as they went.

Back outside the Hive, Dante realized what had just occurred. The Theophage had rallied his army to match the Astartes Legion. This secret weapon the Rangda left behind to ensure control of Hossak needed to be stopped. As Archangel and God-Eater clashed in the sky, the Primarch gritted himself. He intended to end this duel and this battle as soon as possible. He would burn a message into the Rangda, a message of wrath and ruin. Showing them what was to come. Rangda wear the stolen flesh of their victims as bodies. No difference for the Theophage. Its true form was wrapped in an exoskeleton of Warp-Stuff. Taken from dozens of Greater Daemons it devoured over the centuries. A feat that made it one of the mightiest combatants in the galaxy. Few if any Astartes champions would be able to match a Theophage in single combat. Even mighty Abaddon or stoic Sigismund would fare poorly against this monster.

Yet the Theophage found itself facing no Astartes, Phareon, Warboss, Chaos Champion or other masters of War that stalk the Galaxy. It faced a Primarch. The Theophage was created as a rival to hunt Greater Daemons. A tool that could parasitize power from even the Dark Gods. At best a rival predator to the chosen of Chaos. A Primarch was different, they were not meant to be rivals or even hunters of Daemons or Xeno Champions. They are there extinction made flesh. The Rangda Champion that faced Dante, Lord of the IX called itself a God-Eater. In truth, it was simply the grandest of Parasites. Dante, by contrast, was an Archangel. No, he was THE Archangel.

For in distant days within the Imperial Palace the Emperor revealed a hidden truth to his Ninth Son. The Son who was given wings to teach Mankind to fly held another secret. Another mystery beside his wings, his visions, and his wrath. When the Primarchs were born many years ago on Ancient Terra the Emperor gave them each a name. A true-name. Unlike the petty shifting things of mortals or the binding curse of Daemons. The true-names of the Primarchs were static things of power and dignity. You could strip a Daemon of agency by proclaiming its name. Just as you rob a lie of its power by telling the truth. Speaking a Primarchs true-name simply carved their legend deeper into the universe. So all of the Primarchs were known by the mighty name their father gave them. Except one. One whose name had already been carved so deeply and so purely into the universe. That to even speak it with knowledge of what it entailed could shake mountains. The original Angel of the IX had become a story so great and so noble that it echoed through history and timelines. From the moment the Great Angel held the Eternity Gate and fell upon the Vengeful Spirit. Mankind dreamed of flight. Just as the Chaos Gods existed as soon as they were born. The Angel existed the moment he died. A figure of mercy and wrath stretched across space/time. Inspiring the first legends of divine watchers and giving courage to the Golden Warrior standing before a tomb of a Throne at the end of days.

This figure would have countless names and countless roles. Taking his final form and greatest actions when it combined with the greatest son of the greatest son. In another timeline, Dante the Master of the Blood Angels would achieve apotheosis with the Herald of his Primarch. Joining with the Black Angel and its Red Clad Champion to be reborn at the end of the God-Emperor's Imperium. Dante the Primarch was not known to the galaxy by his true name. He wore a golden mask meant to honor his greatest son and hide his true power. Now facing the Theophage and a world infested with nightmares the IX Primarch dropped the mask. Speaking a name he hoped to be eventually worthy of using and letting Dante finally sleep how he wished too. The Primarch proclaimed his true name for the first time and the darkness across the galaxy trembled

"I am Sanguinius, Archangel of Mankind. You have invited my Wrath, and there shall be no Mercy."

In the material, world, nothing seemed to change. The Primarch flew towards the Theophage with his blades aloft. Ready to strike the killing blow. In the Immaterium it was like a supernova had erupted. A sector cleansing mass of white light with a silver pulsar called the Sanguinor clutched in one hand, and a blackhole named Mephiston in the other. The power and idea of the Great Angel. In all its forms, focused upon the Theophage. As that power washed over the Rangda weapon its alien mind formed a few final thoughts. Its entire life it had been called a God-Eater. Raised to devour weaker life and hunt the predators of the Warp. Yet in all that time it had never truly seen a god until now. The flickers of the Dark Gods' attention were sickening waves of malice. The crushing presence and intellect of the Great-House-Minds were strong but formed of stolen power. This… Angel before him was something else. Pure, Mighty and divine. The Light of Sanguinius fell over the Theophage like the Firstborn of Gyptus, Chosen of Khorne, Ravening Hive-Fleets and Armies of the Damned before it. Snuffing it from existence like a mote of dust caught in a solar eruption.

As quickly as it happened it was over. The burned empty husk of the Theophage fell from Hossak's sky, unworthy to share the Heavens with the Archangel. Its cloak of stolen warp-stuff stripped away and its body broken by the swords of the Primarch. Across the Warp the mightiest of Psykers and Warp-Predators noticed what occurred. Far away on the Bucephalus, the Master of Mankind let a small smile slip. The Angel had taken to the skies once again. Upon some distant Craftworld a prodigy ended his meditation with a shock. Feeling the future change in a storm of golden fire and silver wings. A green-skinned behemoth took a moment to pause as it throttled a rival and sniffed the air. Some ancient bestial instinct told him a fight was coming. The Chaos Gods paused the clash within the Warp, only to peer into the Materium and observe the one they coveted above all. The best of the Emperor and Mankind they so hoped to despoil. Something that defied classification as flesh or machine peered out from the Halo Stars. Tissue so old it seemed fossilized, moved according to an ancient intellect. A threat was registered by this primordial beast and a warning sent to Rangda worlds beyond the galactic edge.

Across Hossak, a shadow of a memory of the Great Angels power flowed through his Geneseed. Pushing power and wrath into the flesh and souls of the Astartes. A ghost of the Black Rage filled the hearts of the IX Legion. letting them fight faster and stronger than before. Ripping apart Rangda spawns with righteous madness. Leaping into the fray with an Angels Wrath tamed by his Mercy coursing through them. They were not lost in the vengeful delusion of the Black Rage nor the blood-hungry Red Thirst that had cursed the original sons of Sanguinius. Instead, they came alight like the Angels they were always meant to be. In the Materium, they were pushed to transhuman heights by the blessed blood of the Angel flowing in their veins. In the Warp, each of their souls blazed. Clad in the gold and crimson light of the Primarch. Blinding the Witch-Sight of any Xeno that dared look upon them.

As the Angels of Death fought across the Hive and Azkellon led his Battle-Brothers to the height of Bel-Haust a vague sense filled the IX Legion. Clad in transhuman flesh and bonded to their Primarch, they were meant to fight the wars of the Materium. Yet that might not always be the case. As the radiance of a demigod filled them the Emperor's Angels wondered that in some far distant age they might be called to fight other Wars. When the Legions of Light march upon the Strongholds of Chaos they would do so as beings of spiritual power. What they felt now as the Primarch touched his true nature, was a hint of what was to come.

Silver flames flared from the Astartes' Wings and enchanted flames coated their weapons. Letting them cut through Rangda and Bel Soldiers possessed by cyborganic weapons and armor. The Space Marines wept tears of red gold as the power of their Primarch filled them. The love and power of the Emperor's greatest son was a thing of wonders. At the very peak of Bel-Haust, the force led by the Primarchs Herald found the massive shield generator complex. Techmarines hurried to commune with the apostate technology as their Battle-Brothers protected them from the last defenders. The Brothers of the Amber-Host, the deployed tech-marines castigated the cursed machines of the Rangda and Bel. Casting out the heretek and breaking the Shield Generators with binaric exorcism.

As the Great Shields of the Hive fell the final stage of the battle started. The full wrath of the Imperial fleet opened fire upon Bel-Haust Hive. Lance strikes tore apart entire Hive-Spires. Bombardment Cannons turned the defenses of Bel-Haust to molten slag. Storms of dropships unhampered by anti-aircraft fire thundered from orbit. The Theophage lay dead and the Rangda realized the battle was lost. Across the hive, the Cerebivores and Ossivores fled. Retreating into the darkened squalor beneath the hive. Hounded by Astartes the entire time they fled. As the defenders of the Hive were crushed by the Imperiums might a shining Archangel flew across the Hive. A guiding star to his sons and soldiers.

Hidden behind psychic luminescence, the Primarch had suffered. His feathers were burnt and frayed at some places. His face was gaunt, as if he had not eaten in days. The normally flawless skin of Dante was sallow and marked with healing burns. Communing and channeling the power of Sanguinius had been incredibly challenging for the Primarch. Each of his brothers was tasked to create a legend of themselves that could echo through the Warp. Dante was faced with an opposite problem. His legend existed, he needed to prove himself worthy of it. The sheer exhaustion and pain the Primarch felt were firm reminders he was not yet worthy. Dante could tap into a power none of his brothers could rival, at the cost of himself. His father's gift had been that power, and warning of how to handle it. The Primarch had hoped he had grown in his decades of Crusading enough to use it. While he had not burned or been possessed by the Gold or Black Angel. He had still flown far too close to the Sun like Icaros before him. Taking a deep steadying breath as he glided past the main Bel-Haust spire Dante reminded himself that in time he would master this power. He just hoped the demonstration of it had been an adequate threat to bluff the Rangda into being more cautious.

Returning to the Seraphim and resting the Primarch commanded the rest of the battle from his Flagship. His trusted sons capable of taking the lead. After a month of fighting Hossak was fully compliant. The remaining Rangda was deeply entrenched under Bel-Haust and the last traitor-human defenders had surrendered. Soon the first detailed reports of the Farms across Bel-Haust were coming in. Of country-sized concentration camps were millions of deformed vat-bred and stolen children were raised as livestock. The Rangda fed on neural tissue and needed rich sources of it. So the human livestock were not the degenerated husks or meat-hulks seen on Orkish or other Xeno worlds. They were bred to be intelligent and quick-witted. With constant streams of basic logic and mathematical problems blasted into their holding-pens. Correct answers earned more food. The Rangda realized the threat of intelligent livestock, so they made slight modifications to their food. Shortly after birth, every child was lobotomized with Xeno industrial equipment. Stunting the development of fine motor control and social development. Creating millions of damaged children and teenagers with the dexterity of toddlers. Penned together and farmed for Alien monsters.

The liberating forces had tried to help them. They livestock-children could only moan and scream. Thrashing at each other and the Imperials with unnaturally elongated limbs. Some were taken from there factory-farms and screamed at the sight of the Sun and sky. Such impossible concepts had them howling until they passed out. Others were even worse. Filth covered and meuling for nutrient gruel for answering questions projected on large holo-tablets. Imperial Churgions inspected the human livestock and found entire colonies of alien bacterium inside them. Regulating and controlling agents that replaced some of the biological functions that could not survive the horrors of the farms. As Dante read report after report he felt his twin hearts grow numb. He had seen some of these horrors in his visions but he had hoped they were just another illusion born of Chaos twisting the threads of fate. Each report ended with the same solum recommendation. The Emperor's Peace would be the only salvation.

Feeling the rage boil within him Dante felt the Dataslate in his hands turn to a fine powder under his grip. He looked down in slight befuddlement, he had not realized he had been holding the glass tablet so tightly. Shutting his blue eyes Dante felt the red of his hate dye his pupils crimson. The Primarch wished he could deliver a thousand deaths on the Rangda for there crimes. He would have to settle for one extermination. From his command throne, Dante gave the orders for dealing with surviving humans across Hossak. The freefolk who had survived as wild game for the Rangda would be indoctrinated as Imperial citizens. The Bel Empire and all its people would die in fire. They had betrayed mankind and committed great evil. May they find absolution in the Astronomicon's light. For the billions of broken humans across Hossak, cruel mercy was prepared.

A tool of ethunanzia was decanted. Amanita-Finis, as it was called, was unleashed across thousands of farms. Designed to be easily inoculated against by Imperial technology. When an unprotected human was exposed they died painlessly and near instantly. The ease of treatment made it an ineffective bioweapon but perfect for this role. As clouds of pale smoke fell across the world. Dante felt the billions of dead enter into the warp. The confused and lost souls entering the soul-net of his Father's power. As the deaths across Hossak ended. A final matter was at hand. The remaining Rangda must be dealt with.

Hiding beneath the Bel-Haust Hive the surviving Xenos had burrowed deep. Creating nests and defenses to protect themselves from the Imperium. Auxilia and Astarte's expeditions had been difficult and fruitless. It seemed the Rangda hoped to outlast the invasion fleet and wait for the Imperium to leave. Using the infrastructure and size of the Hive as a shield. The IX Primarch would not stand for that. The Imperium disembarked from the Planet, thousands of drop ships ferried entire armies into orbit. Leaving a world devoid of human life, ready to face mankind's wrath. At the Primarchs command, the Nova-Cannon of the Seraphim fired upon Bel-Haust Hive. A moon cracking ordinance smashed into the Hive. A wave of plasma blanketed a hundred miles in every direction. Punching from the Hives top to the edge of the planet's mantle. Leaving a tectonic plate sized crater of obsidian where the Hive once stood. Mountain ranges worth of ash blanketed the planet. Burying the bodies of billions of innocent victims of the Rangda and the scars upon the world their occupation had made. As the molten glass that once was Bel-Haust started to cool, Hossak was declared cleansed of the Rangda.

Adeptus Umbrex Records- Compiled by Steel Agents Eigen Dierkind and Tatiana Su-Wong

Sample Text of Historical and Tactical Assessment of the Early Rangda Xenocides.

At the Primarch's command, Hossak was to be put under a thousand-year quarantine to ensure the Rangda was gone and honor the human lives lost to the Xenos. Across the fleet, countless great works of art were started. The passion and emotion of the IX Legion channeled into works that would memorialize Hossak. Despite the great military success of the battle. A sense of bitter loss was palpable. They had crushed the Rangda and sent a message but they now knew what the Imperium faced. This had been a border outpost and farming world. Billions of innocent human lives had been ended by the Astartes, giving them the only mercy they could. The scale and unimaginable cruelty of the Rangda Empire dawned upon the IX Crusader Fleet. Suicide among mortal officials and soldiers involved in the liberation and euthanization of the Farms was not unheard of. Iterator and Chaplain efforts to combat this misery were increased.

Physical injuries were also traumatic. Any damage inflicted by Rangda or Khrave weapons was more horrific than initially noticed. Tissue burned by Necrotic Fire refused to heal and in many cases needed to be excised to stop infection and necrosis. Grid-pattern scars of skin and muscle that had to be removed became common across the Astartes and Auxilia of the Fleet. Even worse were those unfortunate enough to make physical contact with a Rangda. The infection of the Xenos spread ruthlessly. Transhuman biology protected the Astartes from the worst of it. Their body naturally quarantining the viral clusters. This still required cauterization, amputation, and painful surgeries. Mortals infected typically had enough time to write some final letters and say goodbye thanks to Imperial medicine. Most took doses of various painkillers or engaged in ritual suicide according to there home culture. Some even challenged Astartes to honor duels for the glory of dying in battle. Those Angels accepted and marked their armor with a black stripe in recognition.

Samples were taken from countless Rangda bodies and weapons acquired by the Mechanicum and Adeptus Umbrex. A grisly discovery was made that even when burned and hacked to bits. Rangda infected tissue was still technically alive and under the control of a much reduced Xeno intelligence. It seemed total disintegration was the only thing that could truly destroy them. Tech-Priests across the Fleets forge-ships got to work designing and manufacturing new munitions and decontamination procedures.

After three months in the Hossak system, the Imperial fleet prepared to push deeper into Rangda space. The IX Legion would begin a campaign of rapid decapitation strikes and purging to harass and threaten the edges of the Xeno Empire. The VIII Legion and its Primarch Konrad Cruze would be joining them soon. Dante and Konrad as the Seer Primarchs would engage in a War of Shock and Terror as the Imperium mobilized. Giving the Forgeworlds and Recruiting Systems much needed time. Psychic foresight allowing them an estimate of the Rangda military's movement. Giving them plenty of opportunities to strike and make the Xenos suffer. The campaign strategy was to continue this tactic until five other Legions could assemble. Letting the full attack on the Rangda start.

In the coming decades of War, the IX Legion would be tested like never before. The noblest of the Legions would fight alongside its most brutal cousins in a grinding hell-war. That would leave trillions dead in the crossfire. In the ensuing centuries and millennia, scholars would debate why the IX Legion was tasked with fighting in the most horrible conflict of the Great Crusade. Some argued it was a simple matter of luck, with the IX being first to attack the Rangda and start the Xenocide war. Others claimed it was a method for the Emperor to battle-forge his Archangel. Guiding Dantes ascension and evolution into Sanguinius. Preparing him for his duel with (REDACTED) during the Great Doom-Tide of the Eastern Fringes.

Assessment based upon classified records and the Emperor's own statements indicates the reason was both of these and one additional. In the darkest days of the Xenocide when the Imperium surrendered so much of its humanity in the name of survival and victory. Dante and the IX Legion were there to remind mankind that the Dawn was coming. To be a living testament to the good within humanity. Dante shined like a guiding star. Helping his brothers, sons, and nephews keep their humanity. Acting as an Angel of Wrath and Mercy who watched and guided the Imperium through the worst of it. Where Eddard Fendragon was the commander of the Xenocide Crusade and Tyric Balderson was its fangs. Dante was its heart. The IX Legion and its Primarch directly saved millions of human lives and protected billions across the galaxy. Demonstrating compassion, honor and crimson fury in the name of Imperator and Imperium. Truly the IX Legion earned the title it still carries to this day. The Dawn Angels, Ninth of the Legio Astartes and Watchers of Mankind.

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