The Seeker

The Ragefang had been evading pursuit by the Red Corsairs and the Imperium.

Now, this Fierce Angels strike cruiser was hiding in an uninhabited star system.

Carly carried a meal to the Navigator's Sanctuary and gently knocked on the hatch.

When it opened, the pale-faced Onaas stepped out and looked up at Carly.

"Time to eat." Carly handed her the tray, only letting go once Onaas had a firm hold of it. "You've navigated so many times... Can you still keep going?"

Onaas took several dazed minutes to answer. "I can."

The repeated navigations needed to evade their pursuers had left Onaas utterly exhausted.

"The crew aren't planning to run anymore," Carly said. "They're going back. Even if they can only give the Chapter one orbital strike before they die... Or, if they make it in time, use the relic device to teleport them aboard... Anyway, we can't keep running like this. Sooner or later, they'll catch us, and then we'll be dead."

Onaas nodded. "I'll be ready."

They parted, and the hatch closed.

Onaas put the tray on the table, then lay down in a corner to recover.

A sudden smacking sound reached her ears.

Onaas whipped around and saw a robed man sitting beside the table, chewing on a biscuit.

Judging by his build, he was an Astartes.

Onaas had no idea when he had appeared.

It was one thing for the guy to show up out of nowhere, and another to eat without permission... But he was smacking his lips, too.

Onaas was about to ask who he was when her memory suddenly returned.

She recalled that this man had appeared before and given her a book he had written. He had also sealed away her memory of their meeting.

"This food and its flavor are so familiar."

The man stared at the food, lost in thought.

Only after a long while did he look at Onaas.

"Sorry. I was born into a noble family. I know my table manners."

"But smacking my lips lets me feel like I'm still alive, like I still have a body."

"Who made this food?"

Onaas eyed him warily, but answered his last question. "My big sister Carly made it. She's good at making all kinds of food. My ancestors were Achaemenid, so I'm used to Achaemenid cuisine. She takes my habits into account when she cooks for me."

"Oh, that explains it." The man nodded. "I'm Achaemenid, too. A member of the royal family, in fact."

Onaas frowned.

The Achaemenid Empire had vanished long ago. During the War of Unification on humanity's homeworld of Terra, the empire had surrendered to the Emperor.

"What's your name?" Onaas asked, nerving herself to sit down at the table.

"Ahriman," the man replied. He stuffed a biscuit into his mouth, chewed it noisily, then went back to writing.

Onaas realized that he was recording the Battle of Manros.

"I can do two things at once. Don't worry about bothering me. Keep me company and chat with me," Ahriman said.

"What are you?"

"I'm a learned man."

"How did you get aboard this ship?"

"I can appear wherever I want. Space and distance are shackles to fools, but tools to me."

Ahriman's pen suddenly stopped as he recalled what had happened before.

He had intended to use the Fierce Angels as ritual material to summon a Daemon, so he had captured them along with the Cunning Hounds Clan.

But at the final step of the ritual...

Ahriman recalled that he had been floating in the air when he suddenly felt the Blood God's gaze fall upon him. He had turned to tell the Greater Daemon of Tzeentch he had summoned, Karlos, "Go and get the Changer of Ways to block the Blood God!"

He had been struck down before he could finish.

Then he had resurrected and performed another ritual, summoning only Karlos to serve as Huron's advisor. After completing the task, he had stayed aboard the Ragefang to observe Lu Jin.

And he had remained there ever since.

"..."

Onaas asked no more questions.

Ahriman closed his book and looked at Onaas, eating the food Carly had made for her.

"Smack, smack, smack, smack..."

Onaas's brow furrowed, and a vein stood out on her forehead.

"You said you're a member of the Achaemenid Empire's royal family? Given your build, and the fact that you're a Space Marine, I assume you joined the Thousand Sons Legion?"

"Smack..."

Ahriman put down the biscuit he had just picked up. After two seconds of silence, he gave a satisfied, approving "Hmm," then nodded repeatedly. "You know a lot."

"Since I know a lot, tell me what you're really doing aboard the Ragefang."

"Nothing."

Onaas glared at Ahriman.

Ahriman waved a hand. "Don't look at me so rudely. By blood, you're the thousandth-generation descendant of my brother. You should call me Grandpa."

Onaas didn't care about any of that.

The Achaemenid Empire was long gone, and her Navigator family had gradually fallen into decline. Who could say whether Ahriman was telling the truth?

But his next words made Onaas's expression change drastically.

"I can take this ship back to the Manros system. The Fierce Angels have a grudge against the Mercy Emissaries and a certain Inquisitor. While I help this ship withstand their attacks, you can use the relic device to teleport the Chapter's people aboard the Imperial flagship. Then you can settle your scores."

"Really, Grandpa Ahriman?"

"I can do it, but that doesn't mean I want to."

Ahriman pushed the empty tray aside and stared at Onaas.

He fixed his gaze on Onaas's third eye, then thought of a secret place, little known even in the real universe... This girl could be used to enter the Black Library.

Onaas's expression changed again. "So you're just messing with me? I could say I can destroy both fleets and save everyone."

"Make me happy, and I'll do it," Ahriman said.

Onaas lowered her head and began to think... recalling Ahriman's words, which had revealed how much he valued knowledge.

Then she knew what she had to do.

Onaas suddenly thought of a question. "The Thousand Sons... why were you so obsessed with the Warp?"

The question was far too simple and naive for Ahriman. He wouldn't have bothered answering if anyone else had asked it.

But ten thousand years after the Thousand Sons had been all but wiped out, a young girl asking such a question made Ahriman look at Onaas in a new light.

Onaas was very young, but her mind wasn't filled with glittering jewels and games. She was thinking about things that people many times her age never would.

That quality mattered a great deal to Ahriman.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm very interested in history from ten thousand years ago, so I've studied your past. If someone else were here today—say, a Primarch or a Space Marine left over from the Legion era—I'd ask different questions."

"That's a good question."

Ahriman pondered, then slowly answered.

"Actually, the question applies to anyone. For example, why is the Human Species obsessed with the Warp?"

"Because the real universe is too cruel, too cold."

"Do you know what a light cone is?"

Of course Onaas knew what a light cone was. To put it as simply as possible, a light cone encompassed every region of spacetime that an event could affect.

From the light cone came the concept known as Light Cone Isolation.

In ancient times, humans believed they were the only intelligent species in space, forever unable to leave the Solar System and doomed to eternal solitude.

Faster-than-light travel was considered immensely difficult, though perhaps possible.

Since information could never travel faster than light, faster-than-light communication was considered impossible.

Ahriman saw that Onaas had thought of light cones, Light Cone Isolation, and the hardships of humanity's exploration of space, so he continued.

"But the Warp allowed humanity to leave Earth."

"Warp Engines are faster than faster-than-light travel."

"Astropathic communication gave information a way to travel faster than light."

"In ancient times, the first Scholar to study the Warp had a famous saying: 'After I die, I'll enter the Warp and tell Einstein's soul: I studied relativity for a hundred and twenty years, but just ten years of studying the Warp gave humanity faster-than-light travel and communication.'"

"So you should understand why the Thousand Sons were obsessed with the Warp."

With that, Ahriman watched Onaas.

Onaas understood immediately.

The Thousand Sons were like ancient humanity. When they had despaired at the restrictions and loneliness of the real universe, they had discovered the wondrous Warp and used it to accomplish things they had once never dared to imagine.

The Thousand Sons must have been just as thrilled by discovering the Warp as ancient humanity had been.

"So, Onaas, how do you think you should regard the Warp?" Ahriman asked with a smile.

"Of course I should be wary of it. Your excessive study of the Warp already caused disaster. I can't go and make the same mistake, can I?" Onaas said.

Ahriman didn't agree. He believed sacrifice was necessary; everything came at a cost.

But he didn't force his opinion on Onaas or tell her she was wrong.

Ultimately, studying the Warp and studying how to use it while remaining wary of it could be seen as different philosophies, different schools of thought.

The learned should respect one another, rather than take sides against each other like fools.

"You've made me realize you're an unusual child." Ahriman slowly rose. "I'm proud to have a descendant like you."

Onaas thought Ahriman was about to leave.

But he merely stood before the large viewport in the Navigator's Sanctuary.

"I can do what I'm capable of."

"I'll show you our power... and what it can do!"

As Ahriman raised his hands,

the space around the Ragefang began to fold and tear. At last, the entire ship entered the Warp.

It had entered the Warp without activating its Warp Engine.

The Gellar Field hadn't been raised, either. But Ahriman's Psionic Power protected the entire ship. The horrors within the Warp weren't kept out; they were crushed by his psychic power.

The mortal crew stood motionless, their consciousness frozen forever at the moment before entering the Warp.

Onaas stared in astonishment.

The power Ahriman displayed filled her with fear and wonder.

This Psionic Power was almost godlike.

Ahriman gently pushed with his right hand, and the ship shot through the Warp and into the real universe.

They emerged in the Manros system.

The frozen crew suddenly returned to normal. In the blink of an eye, they found that the Ragefang had somehow entered the Manros system.

Ahriman had already teleported every crew member to the station they should have been manning when disaster struck.

The ship's Void Shields came online.

The Imperial and Red Corsairs fleets, already engaged in battle, immediately opened fire on the unexpected arrival.

The Void Shields held for only a short ten minutes or so.

But before the ship could be destroyed by the raging fire, the psychic barrier Ahriman had raised held off the attacks that followed.

Even Ahriman was somewhat surprised by his own power. He soon found the reason: they were near a Warp Rift, and the powerful emotional resonance on Manros was weakening reality.

"This is the power you'll be able to use once you've grown."

"This power is purer and stronger than firearms, which even monkeys can use. And only one kind of person can wield it—the learned. Savage fools can only steal a fraction of this power for their own use, then kneel and tremble before the learned when they wield it, crying out that a god has descended!"

Ahriman lowered his arms and turned to face Onaas.

The Navigator was stunned.

When Ahriman slowly raised his left hand, the entire ship instantly crossed several light-seconds and appeared beyond Manros's orbit.

"Will I be able to do that someday...?" Onaas asked, trembling.

"Yes. I'll teach you."

"Just to spread knowledge?"

"Mm..."

Ahriman had done what he could.

The ship was now beyond Manros's orbit. Besides sending supplies to the Fierce Angels, it could also carry out a plan using the teleportation device, one of the Chapter's three sacred relics.

Onaas looked toward the Imperial flagship beyond the viewport.

Her third eye saw that the Inquisitor with a blood feud against her and the entire Chapter was aboard that ship.