The blazing, multicolored psychic flames rushed towards him. Sanchez, raised his hands.
His crimson flames, compressed by his spirituality into searing white, rose in an instant.
Sanchez spun his arms. The white-hot flame spiraled outwards.
The spiral vortex spun, rushing headlong into the psychic flames.
Boom!
The colored flames slammed into the "Conspirer's" white-hot vortex. The vortex came alive.
It split into a thousand streams of white fire. They took a thousand forms: crows, serpents, and more.
A thousand streams of flame moved simultaneously, striking the psychic fire from every direction.
White-hot lances crashed head-on into the psychic flames, dissolving in a series of bursts, but each strike dulled the psychic fire's brilliance.
White-hot arrows spiraled into the psychic flames from the sides, dimming the multicolored glow with each strike.
The psychic flames surged forward, but the white-hot fire from all sides continually weakened them. Their light grew ever dimmer.
Captain Thibault of the 1st Company, Captain Stevens of the 5th, Captain Porti of the 7th, and the other "Conspirer" Captains looked up in awe at Sanchez's command of fire.
They, too, were Court members, all Viscounts of the Lord, all having received four bestowals.
But their mastery and development of their father's gifts varied greatly. Time and effort did not solely determine their ability to command flame.
Lord Sanchez's talent and ability to control fire far surpassed theirs. No one else could wield it like magic.
He had single-handedly held off the Khrave Progenitor's psychic fire.
As Thibault and the others looked on, they raised their hands, unleashing their own white-hot flames to support their Lord.
Porti poured his spirituality into as many streams of flame as possible.
Eight hundred and forty streams of flame shot skyward, rushing to meet the rolling blaze.
His fiery streams, though not as brilliant as Sanchez's, were noticeably more powerful than those of the other "Conspirer" Captains.
Boom, boom, boom...
The collision of flames sent up flashes of light, like bursting fireworks.
"I witnessed the birth of the Aeldari, but few have matched your command of fire."
Planetary Governor Yerson stepped forward. His human form was covered in black veins. The psychic flames blazing in his hands were blinding.
Though it was praise, it was honey laced with a poisoned barb, an attempt to breach the Shadows of Order's mental defenses.
"I have witnessed the rise and fall of countless stellar empires, the birth and death of gods."
The Khrave Progenitor's tone was lofty, an ancient being of tens of millions of years, further assaulting their defenses.
"Your Imperium, your father, all are just dust in the stream of time."
The Captains, maintaining the Third Level of the Thelema midstate, remained unshaken by the xenos' mental assault.
"He is called Nareth, isn't he?"
The "Conspirer" had known from the Black Emperor's data that the Khrave Progenitor predated the Aeldari, that they had witnessed the War in Heaven and the fall of the C'tan.
They were not shaken by its immense age, but they were all enraged by its insult to their father.
But their spirituality was fully committed to controlling the white-hot flames, leaving them no strength to even shout in anger.
"Heretic!" Porti and Thibault, who still had some energy, shouted their fury. The blasphemy against the Black Emperor enraged them.
The "Provoker," Sanchez, recalled the Black Emperor's words: the Khrave Progenitor on Indra-Sul was the oldest surviving, already aging, the weakest.
"You're just a decrepit old thing, clinging to life!"
The "Provocation" struck the distant mind of the Khrave Progenitor. Fury blazed in its eyes, and it unleashed its power without reserve.
"Die!"
Suddenly, the world changed in Sanchez's obsidian eyes. He saw the battlefield from a higher perspective.
He saw the psychic tendrils wrapped around Yerson, extending beyond the material world, into the distant, unknown void.
He saw where the tendrils were anchored.
Sanchez snatched his right hand back, drawing the Krakenmaw from his belt.
The heavy chainsword, its motor roaring, was fashioned from the fang of the same Fenrisian Kraken that had provided Russ's own Krakenmaw.
The Fenrisian runes, etched by the Iron Priests of Fenris, flared. A raging storm-force surged into the psychic flames.
The brutal storm of Fenris tore through the psychic flames, clearing a path to Yerson.
Sanchez, inheriting his gene-father's Warp Insight, saw Yerson's weakness.
The Thunderwolf King surged forward, charging straight at Yerson.
Catachan wolves howled, following the Thunderwolf King.
Yerson threw back his head, unleashing a piercing psychic shriek.
Two figures burst from the shadows. They raised their black-veined arms.
A telekinetic shockwave descended, crushing one "Conspirer" to the ground.
It tore through the personal energy shield, pulverizing the Cataphractii-pattern Terminator, the "Conspirer," and his Catachan wolf into black sand.
He roared, raising his hand at Stevens.
Bang!
Stevens, struggling to control seven hundred and twenty streams of flame, faltered. A dark memory surfaced.
He had been a member of the Honour Guard then, facing the lethal threat of Wolf Lord Amlodhi Skarssen Skarssensson of the Space Wolves' 5th Great Company.
"No!" Stevens's obsidian eyes blazed. Time seemed to stop.
In his Warp Insight, the Khrave host's movements slowed.
"No enemy will ever decide my fate again!" the "Conspirer" said coldly.
He was no longer that weakling. His gene-father had granted him power.
As a "Provoker," he had even used a trap to defeat Lucius, who was now Captain of the 13th Company of the Emperor's Children and a renowned swordsman among the Astartes.
Stevens snatched a Catachan fang from his belt and hurled it.
Whoosh!
The blade, coated in the venom of dozens of Catachan creatures, struck the Khrave host.
Pfft!
Colors spread across the host's body. Its black veins constricted. Its skin cracked.
Bang!
In his Warp Insight, the tendrils shattered. The host collapsed.
Stevens felt his own power. Visions swirled in his obsidian eyes; the fallen form before him seemed to have Scarsen's savage face.
His vision slowly returned to normal. He saw Porti casually swing his blade, severing the Khrave parasite's head.
'I must keep striving. Improve my command of fire.'
'Even if I can't match the Chapter Master, I must catch up to Porti.'
Stevens resolved, looking ahead. The Thunderwolf's shadow was already upon Yerson.
"Damn it!" The Khrave Progenitor's eyes were cold. Nareth's sons were more troublesome than he had expected.
He raised his arm. Black veins bulged, covering it entirely.
Bang!
A telekinetic shockwave, like a great hand, slammed down on Sanchez's back.
The cloak of the Great Wolf's black mane billowed, rippling.
"Hmm?" In Yerson's moment of shock, the Kraken's sharp fang bit into his body.
Blood sprayed. Yerson's left arm exploded.
Black veins suddenly covered his entire face and neck.
"Begone!"
Yerson roared, his fist slamming into Sanchez's right arm.
His arm was as thin as a normal man's, but the force it packed surpassed any Astartes or Custodes.
Bang!
The personal energy shield shattered. The Cataphractii-pattern Terminator armor broke.
Sanchez's right arm was twisted by the blow. The Krakenmaw flew from his grasp.
His obsidian eyes showed no emotion. His left hand shot up, plunging the black blade, a gift from the Black Emperor, into Yerson's chest.
"What?" Yerson shrieked, looking down at the black blade, etched with patterns, embedded in his body.
The air around them shuddered. A million shrieks filled the air.
The waves of sound beat against him, one after another.
His flesh took on a thick, grey-green hue, withering away.
The Khrave Progenitor withdrew, as if in flight.
Beyond the material world, in a special dimension of the Warp, the Khrave's source domain.
The ancient Master let out an enraged shriek. Its tendrils were stained with an irremovable grey-green.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Four tendrils fell.
"My Lord!" a thousand Khrave cried out in grief. For the first time, they saw their master wounded.
At the same time, Sanchez silently gathered two piles of ash and a patch of black sand with his left hand.
They pulsed and contracted like hearts, tiny, almost invisible pores on their surface spewing crimson flames.
They were remnants of the Black Emperor's gifts, persisting even after the recipient's death.
"Find every xenos host body," Sanchez commanded. He would perform the offering ritual.
He would offer the Black Emperor's gifts, along with the Khrave hosts, to the Black Emperor.
The others immediately set to work, gathering the bodies marked by black veins.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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