11 Order

The child, finally free from his terrified stupor, scurried out from behind Jek's legs. He approached me with a hesitant curiosity, his eyes wide and searching. For a fleeting moment, a spark of hope ignited in my chest. Perhaps, in this child, there was still some semblance of innocence left in this war-torn world.

But the hope died as quickly as it flared. "Where's mama?" he asked, his voice a heartbreaking tremor in the heavy silence.

My non-existent heart clenched. Jek, his face etched with a grief too raw to express, closed his eyes and looked away.

I knelt before the child, the weight of his question a crushing burden. "She's with the Emperor's heroes," I rasped, my voice heavy with a newfound empathy.

He didn't cry, not yet. Instead, he stared at the dusty ground, his small hand clenching and unclenching. Then, he looked back up at me, his eyes filled with a confusion that mirrored my own fractured soul.

"What about me?" he whispered, his voice barely a squeak. "Why didn't mama bring me?"

"Because it's not your time yet," I lied, the words bitter on my tongue. But what else could I say?

With a sigh, I willed the scythe back into the warp, the tendrils of darkness vanishing with a faint hum. Then, I reached out and scooped the child into my arms.

He flinched at the touch, his small hand reaching out to brush against the ceramite of my arm. "Your arm is cold," he observed, tracing the smooth surface with a frown.

A strange warmth, foreign yet comforting, bloomed in my chest. "It's how heroes are," I said, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. "We fight the darkness so others can stay warm."

He snuggled closer, his tiny hand burrowing into the fabric of my robe. "Mama used to say that too," he mumbled, his voice muffled against my chest. "She used to hold me like this when I was scared."

I held him tighter, the echo of his mother's warmth a phantom sensation against my cold flesh. A single tear, hot and unexpected, traced a path down my cheek. In this broken child, in his innocent trust, I saw a glimmer of humanity, a fragile shard of light in the encroaching darkness.

Jek, having finally exhausted his lasgun ammo, tossed the useless weapon aside. His only remaining option hung from his belt – a trio of frag grenades, their pins an unsettling reminder of the violence that still awaited us.

"We need to move," I said, my voice gruff but laced with a newfound determination. Survival, for this child at least, was now a priority.

Jek nodded, his face a mask of grief and grim resolve. Together, we turned away from the ruined city, the weight of the dead and the horror we had witnessed a heavy burden to carry. But the child, nestled in my arms, was alive. And for him, we would fight on. The path ahead was shrouded in darkness, but for the first time since my rebirth, I felt a flicker of purpose, a reason to push forward in this war-torn world. We were the hunters now, and the darkness… the darkness would soon learn to fear the night.

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"Hold up, Sir," Jek stammered, halting behind me for the first time. My smooth stride faltered as I came to a stop. "Are we really diving into dessert without a strategy?"

He was right. We definitely needed a plan, otherwise both those little ones would be toast from dehydration. "Hmm," I muttered, furrowing my brow in thought. Deciding it was time to act, I handed the child to Jek and closed my eyes, channeling my powers.

A wave of darkness engulfed me. Within my mind's eye, I envisioned a shadowy blob, like smoke coalescing. With each attempt, I molded it, the gaseous form proving obstinate at first, refusing to hold its shape. But after a few tries, I persevered.

The gas condensed into tiny canine shapes. I opened my eyes, a wisp of darkness curling from my fingertips as it solidified around me. The inky tendrils sculpted themselves, birthing seven adorable little puppies.

"Woof!" The puppies yipped excitedly, their shadowy forms flitting around me in a whirlwind of playful barks. Jek and the child watched with a mix of apprehension and wonder, the flickering orange glow of the hounds' eyes casting eerie shadows on their faces.

With a raised hand, I brought the playful pups to heel. They hovered in the air before me, their loyalty chillingly absolute. "Find us the nearest living person," I commanded, my voice laced with newfound authority.

The hounds yipped in unison, a sound like wind whistling through skeletal trees. Then, with a burst of speed that left blurry trails in their wake, they shot off in different directions, disappearing over the desolate horizon. Yeah, this might take a while.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The silence, broken only by the desolate wind moaning through the ruins, was thick with tension. Jek held the child close, whispering comforting words that I couldn't quite make out. The weight of responsibility pressed down on me, a tangible thing pushing the air from my lungs.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I spotted movement in the distance. Seven dark shapes, the hounds, materialized from the gloom, coalescing back into their puppy forms around me.

They didn't bark this time. Instead, their glowing eyes locked on me, their bodies turned slightly to the left. Following their gaze, I felt a sliver of hope pierce through the bleakness. It wasn't perfect – whatever awaited us in that direction could be just as dangerous as the desolate wasteland. But it was a chance, and that was all we had.

"Thank you," I murmured, a genuine sense of gratitude washing over me. I reached down and gently stroked the head of one of the hounds, its shadowy form rippling under my touch. It responded with a wag of its non-existent tail, its loyalty unwavering.

These creatures, born from the darkness within me, might represent a twisted bargain, but for now, they were our lifeline. With a new name bubbling up in my mind - Shadow – I mentally christened the first hound. The others would have to wait. There was more pressing business at hand.

Turning to Jek and the child, I beckoned them to follow. "Let's go see what our furry friends found," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. We began walking towards the direction the Shadowhounds indicated, a cautious hope flickering within me like a fragile flame.

We trudged across the unforgiving desert landscape. The city, a crumbling monument to a fallen world, had long since vanished from sight. The relentless sun beat down, turning the sand into a shimmering furnace. My throat felt like sandpaper, and my vision began to blur at the edges. Yet, we pressed on, driven by the flickering hope the Shadowhounds had unearthed.

Then, a glint in the distance caught my eye. Squinting, I focused my gaze. There, a speck on the horizon, was something almost unbelievable – a metal behemoth, its shape unmistakable. A surge of adrenaline shot through me. Could it be?

"Jek, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" I rasped, my voice hoarse from thirst.

Jek squinted in the direction I pointed. "Desert sir?" he said wearily, his voice barely above a whisper. He held the child close, his grip tight, a silent testament to his exhaustion.

Wait, right! My eagle eye! Searing frustration momentarily eclipsed the hope that had bloomed in my chest. How could I forget such a crucial ability in this desperate situation?

"Follow me," I commanded, a new urgency fueling my steps. I broke into a run, the sand swirling around my boots as I pressed forward. Jek, despite his fatigue, stumbled after me, the child clinging to him for dear life.

Reaching a small, wind-battered dune, I used it as cover. Crouching low, I channeled my power, the darkness within me stirring in response. With a mental command, I activated my eagle eye.

The world sharpened around me, details blooming into vivid clarity. There, in the distance, was no mirage. It was indeed a convoy – a Chimera, its armored hull reflecting the harsh sunlight, followed by a lumbering Leman Russ tank. Relief washed over me in a wave, so intense it almost made me stagger.

"Jek," I whispered, a genuine smile splitting my face for the first time since awakening. "Salvation."

But before we could formulate a plan, a primal instinct flared within me. The Chimera, the lead vehicle, was slowing down. Through my eagle eye, I saw figures emerging from its hatches, weapons raised. They weren't advancing towards us, but they were definitely suspicious.

"Hold tight," I grunted to Jek, surprise flashing across his face. Before he could react, I scooped him up in one arm, the child still nestled safely in his.

With another surge of power, I propelled myself forward, a blur of darkness cutting through the shimmering desert heat.

The desert wind whipped around us, carrying the metallic rasp of the Chimera's engines as it pivoted, its turret swiveling to lock onto me. The guardsmen, a motley crew of tired faces and worn flak armor, poured out of the vehicle, their lasguns leveled at us with practiced efficiency. Even the lumbering Leman Russ tanks, five in total, shifted their massive cannons in our direction, their silence somehow more ominous than the growl of their engines.

Despite the hail of aimed weaponry, I held my ground, gently lowering Jek and the child to the sand. Fear, a primal and unwelcome feeling, gnawed at the edges of my newfound confidence. But I pushed it down, replacing it with a steely resolve.

"Hold your fire," I commanded, my voice ringing out over the tense silence. It wasn't a request, it was an order laced with a subtle power that resonated from the darkness within me. Whether they sensed it or not, the guardsmen hesitated, their fingers hovering over lasgun triggers.

The commander, a grizzled veteran with a cybernetic eye glinting in the sunlight, stepped forward from the Chimera. His face was a mask of suspicion, his voice gruff as he barked out, "Identify yourselves!"

I met his gaze head-on, my voice steady despite the hammering of my heart. "I am one of the Emperor's Angels," I declared, the words heavy with a truth that was both a lie and a promise. Technically, I wasn't one of the legendary Astartes yet, but the weight of my newfound power and the darkness it whispered of felt strangely akin to their legendary stoicism. Besides, a little embellishment wouldn't hurt in this situation.

A collective scoff rippled through the ranks of guardsmen. They clearly didn't believe me. One of them, a young private with a face far too young for war, piped up, "Emperor's Angel, huh? More like a demon's spawn with those… things around you." He gestured nervously towards the Shadowhounds, who had silently materialized back at my side, their glowing eyes fixed on the guardsmen.

The commander silenced the chatter with a wave of his hand. His gaze flickered between me, the child nestled safely in Jek's arms, and the shadowy hounds. His cybernetic eye seemed to scan me, searching for some sign of my allegiance, of the truth behind my words.

The commander's words, "Prove yourself," hung heavy in the air. Without hesitation, I reached into the darkness within. A surge of power, raw and untamed, coursed through me. I channeled it outward, not with violence, but with a subtle, crushing pressure.

The effect was instantaneous. A collective gasp ripped through the ranks of guardsmen. Their faces contorted in surprise, their bodies slumping as an invisible weight pressed down upon them. Lasguns clattered uselessly to the sand.

Even the commander, a veteran hardened by countless battles, fought against the pressure valiantly. His face contorted in a snarl, his cybernetic eye flickering erratically. But even iron will couldn't resist entirely. He stumbled back a step, his grip tightening on his sidearm.

With a flick of my will, I released the pressure. The guardsmen gasped for breath, scrambling back to their feet, eyes wide with fear and confusion. They looked at me, not with hostility anymore, but with a raw terror.

"You see," I said, my voice calm despite the churning emotions within, "I'm quite different from the Astartes." An understatement, to be sure. The Astartes were legendary warriors, their bodies augmented by forbidden technology, their minds honed to a razor's edge. I was a fledgling, a creature of shadows and bargains struck with the warp. But for now, the distinction was irrelevant.

The guardsmen watched me warily, their weapons hanging limply at their sides. The commander, his cybernetic eye seeming to bore a hole into me, slowly straightened up. A flicker of something – perhaps grudging respect? – flickered in his gaze.

"Have I proven myself?" I asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

He held my gaze for a long, tense moment. Then, with a curt nod, he finally spoke. "You have," he rasped, his voice rough with exertion. "Welcome to the 12th Cadian. Seems we've picked up an interesting… passenger."