4 Meeting the Great Spirit

The Immaterium, The Silver Desert.

Slagar stumbled out of the portal and fell face-first into the silver sand underneath. The portal's door closed seconds after his exit, leaving him to listen to Gregorian chant-like echoes of the Immaterium around him. The sounds were layered and ordered in a beautiful manner, invoking a sense of patience and peace. Slagar guessed these beautiful hymns must be coming from the resonance between the high energy states of the Immaterium.

Before he could continue pondering about the reason for the hymns of this place he was thrown into the air by a tall silver sand wave. His body was scratched and eroded by each strand of Immaterium energy that slashed into his body. He crashed back into the sand sea with his body filled with scratches and injuries. Drops of his blue blood stained the originally pure silver sands below him. He stared out at the massive water-like sea of sand ahead of him and then back down at his feet planted in that same sand.

He was surprised he didn't die here immediately, as there shouldn't be any material matter in the energy realm of the Immaterium. From what he and the Great Counsel had concluded, this place should have been a place of pure energy. But obviously, this was not the case, considering he was very clearly standing on some kind of silver desert. He tried to steady himself on the moving sands, only to be thrown back into the air every few minutes when a large enough wave pushed past him.

*Huff Huff*

Slagar panted tiredly after only 30 minutes of time here. He now regretted his moment of desperation when he threw himself into here. Questions burned in his mind, like: Why did he jump through the portal so rashly? Is honor really so important to die for? And other such deep questions.

To be fair to Slagar, it's not really a fault of his own and more of the culture his race and the Great Counsel had formed for their society. Honor was a spiritual aspect that could be manipulated through the Immaterium and it was used to bestow the title technology they had developed. But all these things needed to be the focal of many psychic energies of the entirety of thier race. As a result, the younger generation of Old Ones are taught since birth about the importance of Honor, Glory, and the Great Counsel. To provide to the few, near god-like power, influence, and agelessness, the entire race must make sacrifices in these early stages of their history.

It is the Great Counsel's plan that in the future, all Old Ones will be granted the effects of the title technology. They only need their early generations to provide the psychic energy to support future generations. It was also the reason why Slagar was denied his title of Honored One despite his achievements. Simply put, there wasn't enough psychic energy condensed yet for a new Honored One. The Great Counsel was being strangled by politics and the current limited resources and opportunities to grant young Old Ones a title.

Luckily, Slagar was about to meet someone who would be kind enough to save him.

...

(Arlow POV)

Arlow had been keeping a close watch on Slagar since his first arrival in the Immaterium. He was the one who was constantly supplying him with the air necessary for him to breathe, and also prevent the majority of the warp winds from tearing him apart. He had been watching the growth of the Old Ones since they had just emerged and he was quite proud of them. Their technology was far more advanced than one might think, enough that they discovered the Immaterium dimension and began to utilize it.

The title technology their Honored One, Gorvor, developed inspired some new ideas for him. And he had enough of being alone. He wanted to introduce himself to this freshly budding race and befriend them. He didn't really want anything from them other than company.

Arlow decided to appear in front of Slagar the moment he needed him. He had used some psyker techniques to divine future deviations, a relatively advanced application of psychic arts. So he waited patiently, till Slagar finished questioning his decisions and came to the conclusion of his foolishness.

...

Another 15 minutes passed before Slagar finally seemed to give up struggling. He slouched to the ground and let the sand waves slowly bury him alive. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes looked much clearer now.

"I am a fool," Slagar muttered quietly.

"Maybe, but I don't mind the company of fools." A melodic voice sounded from behind him, but he could turn to face the creature that spoke.

"I'm hearing things?" Slagar stated, confused.

"I would hope so, considering I am speaking to be heard." The voice said again with a teasing tone.

Slagar still assumed this voice was not real and that he was delirious when facing his own approaching death. So he answered as if he was talking to his conscience.

"Well, I hear you. What have you come to say? Are you going to mock me? The fool who died for nothing?" Slagar spat out angrily.

"Not really." The voice answered.

Slagar finally realized he was not hallucinating as a bright 3-meter tall humanoid silver coming into his view. The first thought that Slagar had when he saw it was 'Beautiful', it looked like condensed silver starlight in human form. The Gregorian-chant-like hymns came heavily from around it, bringing a sense of patience and peace.

He could sense from just looking at this being he was not only looking at him physically but looking at him intellectually. It was like looking at a person's character directly, knowing what is allowed by those who see them, to know. He instinctively knew, there could be no falsehoods in this method, it was a revealing of a true self. And just as he was looking at this being, this being could 'see' himself in the same way. It was a two-way connection.

This being was a spirit, no Slagar could only use the term Great Spirit to describe it. It was old, far older than him or his race. The exact age was not known to him or perhaps to even the spirit. And it was patient, oh how horrifyingly beautiful the patience in this Spirit was. Slagar shivered, this being was beyond his comprehension in its patience. It could wait for as long as it wanted, endure what it needed, and it would never break from it's goal.

Slagar tried to open his mouth and say something, but the words eluded him about what he should say. Thankfully, he didn't have to speak first.

"Would you like some help?" The Great Spirit asked him.

"Yes! *hiss*" Slagar answered while hissing from embarrassment.

With but a wave of The Great Spirit's arm, the sand underneath me rose into a throne like the ones the Honored Ones have, and with a wave of his other hand, the churning sands calmed down. The Great Spirit created a throne of his own out of sand, and a table in between the two of them.

Slagar hissed in nervousness but still composed himself. Despite him ending up here out of desperation and pursuit of honor, he was utterly captivated by the being in front of him. He forgot his Old One noble etiquette, he forgot the important scientific questions he always wanted to solve, and he forgot about almost dying mere minutes before. Now only one question was on his mind.

"Who are you?" he asked.