Chapter-1 the Avenging Widow

There once was a man, a man born in a forgotten time. Created by a force of unknown origin. He would cross the ages knowing his one purpose, to lead humanity as the greatest Empire in the Galaxy, the Imperium of Man. In this time he would be known only by one name, The Emperor of Mankind.

The Imperium of man consists of the Planets, systems, and forces throughout the Galaxy. Which contain Imperial citizens and their derivatives, not all humans are universally members of the Imperium, though and as you would expect there are Rogue Traders and those who choose to live on the legal fringes of the society. The single most important figure within the Imperium is the aforementioned founder, Savior, and ruler of this Empire known as the Emperor of Mankind. He formed the Imperium some 10,000 years previous to the current established date in the universe of Warhammer 40,000, at the end of the 30th millennium. This occurred following an especially brutal period of societal disintegration during the last days of the age of strife.

The Emperor of Man sits as an extremely powerful figure within the Imperium, make no mistake he is the center of humanity, in the 41st Millennium. So powerful humanoid he was arguably barely human to begin with and he continues to protect mankind, after his mortal wounding during the final battles of a period known as, the Gremorian Heresy. What not for his ever-present psychic voice reaching out, searching, protecting, and planning then the Imperium of man would undoubtedly fall back into dark Oblivion, and perhaps the light would be extinguished permanently. the Emperor was injured so badly after the heresy, that he now exists only as a husk of a man within a stasis chamber called The Golden Throne. This allows him to live on eternally as he has done for some past ten thousand years, whilst continually guiding Mankind through psychic whispers, the only catch with this is thousands of Psykers are sacrificed every day using their Essence and psychic power to keep him alive. As he is heavily protected and attended to, back on the ancient Homeworld of Legend, Terra or old Earth.

The Imperium of Man in the wider galaxy now consists of many systems planets and Quintillions of citizens, all the while the Imperial military and the many administrators of mankind, are all of whom swear allegiance to the Emperor, all stand together against the nightmares of the Galaxy. To form what is humanity in the darkest of futures.

The origins of the Emperor are complicated and unknown, some say he was born from the merged souls of psychic power wielding Shamans. Others believe that the Emperor was born a normal man and simply gained his powers by random occurrence. One man believes that the Emperor was created by an ancient psychic race known simply as the Old Ones with the remaining sole survivor of the dying race, creating the Emperor for a future yet to come. Some say the Emperor was created during Humanity's zenith of technological prowess. Who can know for certain, perhaps we shall never know for the Emperor is a very secretive man, and refuses to let anyone take a peek behind the curtain. Those that do find out the true nature of the Master of Mankind are swiftly dealt with. Names, faces, histories, all disintegrated against the weathering sands of time and select record purging.

So what do we know about the Emperor? For starters we do know that he has been around for a long time, since the neolithic period of human history, where it was said that he himself discovered the use of fire in the middle-east of the old earth. He traveled through history often being in the background, not really being active, but rather as a side character. He has played many different roles, as an advisor, a doctor, a general, or even a basic French pastry man who(accidentally)started a war. He's seen it all and knows the future as well or rather paths to the future, the Master Of Man knows and chooses his options carefully, every action, every letter, all of it thought out and planned carefully to a fine print.

But he isn't infallible, he has his flaws, one glaring example is his arrogance, something that much like other arrogant people, it came back to bite him in the ass. But for all his gloating and grandeur he is a very delicate man, and a man carrying the burden of saving and guiding race, that he himself is enslaved to. He is forced to help humanity in some way shape or form, for should he not he shall cease to exist, his soul ripping itself to pieces. For one time he decided to retreat in the wilderness of Holy Ancient Terra and live a life of peace and isolation. But his psyche would not have it, forcing him to reunite with his people.

In the far off time that has now come. The universe has descended into madness, a mighty empire now only a shell of its original design, and while one of the Emperor's mighty Primarchs have Returned, Weiss Schnee, she is barely enough to hold off the ever present threats to humanity, from Aliens, Mutants, Heretics, and far... far worse. To be a man in such times is to be amongst untold trillions it is to live in the bloodiest regime imaginable.

To say it has been rough is an understatement of the millennium. The Imperium of Man has been split into two chunks caused by the fall of Cadia and the widening of the Eye of Terror. All caused by Traitorous Ex Gremory, the first born son of Rias Gremory, he has gone on a total of thirteen Black Crusades in the hope of destroying the Imperium and killing his father, but following some visions he received from his cursed gods. He saw that his Aunt, Weiss Schnee would be resurrected, and put an end to his plans, but thanks to him being the Warmaster of Chaos undivided. He rallied the traitor legions to attack the planet of Remnant.

Remnant was a complete and utter mess, the Grimm ran rampant and all the smaller more nomadic villages had been all but destroyed. The Imperium had sent forces, but the Grimm were simply too tough and were corrupted even further with the power of Chaos, so that the Huntsmen and Huntresses struggled with the empowered grimm. The only bastion of human civilization was in the far north in the kingdom of Atlas where the stasis-locked Primarch lay bound to a throne not too dissimilar of her Husband's. Attacking Atlas proved to be difficult, attempts to set up a base of operations was made harder with the grimm attacks and an all out assault of Atlas proper was near impossible. Heavy emphasis on the 'near' part of that sentence, because despite the impossibility of such a task, the Warmaster of Chaos went through with it. The fighting had been devastating on the Imperium's side, defeat after defeat. The loyalist forces were being pushed back, thousands of soldiers and civilians were being captured and often subjected to the most brutal torture imaginable. It was so bad that women were encouraged to save themselves by committing...you know what... to save themselves from... you know what... the Chaos forces were know for this kinda thing especially with the traitorous 'Emperor's Shrine Maidens' on the field.

All the negative emotion called the Grimm into the area, forcing the battle to switch from a 1v1 to a 1v1v1 free-for-all, but hope would have it when the traitorous forces finally broke in the the entombed Primach's shrine. With help from Aelderi Ynnead and the technological wonder brought by Belisarius Cawl. Weiss Schnee would be brought back from the brink of death leading to an absolute victory and a devastating defeat for the Warmaster, who was sent screaming into the warp and into the hands of his dark masters, and who punished him accordingly for his failure.

Following Primarch Weiss Schnee's resurrection she gathered her Sons and went on a mighty race towards Terra to reunite and speak with her Husband. On her way there Ravel Phoenix Attacked the Primarch with a surprise assault with a horde of Daemons and her own sons the 'Order of the Phoenix' attacking Weiss just as she landed on Luna(Earth's moon).

Weiss got burned by Phoenix-fire and got a building thrown at her, but thanks to the Emperor's Blade, the reforged holy sword cut through Deamons and Traitor marines like butter not just killing them but completely erasing their existence. She ended up wounding and banishing Ravel to her wretched master Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways, before finally making it to Holy Terra, the resting place of the God-Emperor and the birthplace of humanity. After speaking with the Emperor of Mankind, she received his blessing to go out and save what they had built together. First, Terra itself was cleansed of all its corruption like dusting the rust of an old machine. Second, Terra was attacked by a Khornite invasion, but the Queen of Atlas took it down no problem, even going so far to impress the Emperor's personal Bodyguards. Third, Terra was purged of corrupt high officials who had actually tried to either kill or scam Weiss, but the giant Weiss Queen was not having it. Those who tried to backstab her were either stripped of their status and power, or were outright executed. Fourth she replaced those ineffective leaders with more capable one's to manage the more bureaucratic side of ruling the Empire. Finally she sent out a call for all Imperial Guard regiments to fall back to the cradle of Mankind along with all Space Marine chapters. With the exception of those who were fighting winning battles on distant planets. Those facing losing battles were told to retreat and regroup, after all planets can be retaken and rebuilt, human lives and their equipment cannot. And those winning battles were told to keep going, and Weiss would reunite with them shortly. After all the preparation was said and done, Weiss had amassed a great armada of Warships made of 10 whole fleets. Every fleet was sent out in a fork-like formation to provide Primaris renforcement to any Space Marine chapter that needed it, but to also reclaim lost worlds and purge them of corruption. Things were going smoothly, proving how even just one of the Primarchs are capable of turning a losing war around, but the stress of managing such a thing was on a level you can not begin to imagine.

'Another war...Another victory. Another blip on the map, freed from terror and anarchy... for now' thought the Queen of Atlas. She was currently traveling in the refurbished 'Mantle's Honor', the flagship of the Atlesian Guard during the Great Crusade back when the Emperor walked among Humanity. Her armor riddled with bullet holes, the master crafted armor's beauty ruined by the damage from her recent battle. She stood on the command deck of the ancient battle ship, in front of her were holograms displaying a map of the milky-way galaxy.

'Even still, more calls for aid. The cold ruthlessness of space, unrelenting. During these times, I find myself at peace. Numb from all the horrors availing us. My grim purpose is so clear. But when I find myself alone, the sounds of war, a distant melody... doubt, fear, seeps into my mind' the Primarch lets out an exhausted sigh, the stress of her role weighing on her heavily. So much so that she has been superficially aged. Her hair still remains braided and tied to the back of her head, had it not been already been a bleached white, it would've most likely been. Her face on the other hand did age much more apparently, her skin now paler than ever, had stretches and wrinkles, her once Shining eyes now faded into a glossy, dull gray-blue. Half her face was scar tissue for, during the Heresy, Primarch of the Sun Dragons, Yang Xiao-Long had struck her in the face, with such force that her jaw had completely become unhinged and dangled off the left side of her face. Thankfully the apothecaries were able to reattach her jaw. But now it made an annoying click that only she could hear when it opened and closed. On top of that it left a hideous scar... well at least she thought it was.

'No matter how much we fight, no matter how much of myself I pour into this carcass of an Empire, there's always more on the horizon. To the eastern fringes the Tau expand their borders. Eldar corsairs raiding and pillaging our supply transports. The Orks, one unifying force away from drowning everything in a tide of green. The Tyranids hunger unrelenting...Chaos...' the Primarch took a deep breath before slumping her shoulders and collapsing into her chair.

'If only I could be everywhere at once, if only...I keep searching for them...my brothers and sisters. In times like these I miss their silly little council...Throne I miss them...' she thinks back to a gift she made for her adoptive family, a great table made of the finest Atlesian pine trees she could find. She had personally carved it in the hope that one day they may all be seated as a true family... She then looks over to a statue of none other than the Emperor of Mankind. As she stared she couldn't help but to begin speaking to it.

"Why do I still live?" She snarled, rising from her chair, she steps closer to the wretched statue. "What more do you want from me? I gave everything I had to you, to them. Look what they've made of our dream." She then holds her arms out and does a quick spin, as she continues speaking. "This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not by reason and hope but by fear, hate and ignorance. Better that we had all burned in the fires of Rias's ambition than live to see this." Her fury finally settled down. She looks at the unchanged statue once more. This time with a look of sadness and despair.

"Why...Why did it have to be me? Is this punishment for my failure to arrive in time? A cruel joke? I'm so tired..." She then turns away from the statue, but even then she could still feel its piercing gaze, as it glared into the back of her armor and into her skull. "But I must keep going. Everything, everyone is counting on me. I must push these feelings away and keep my head up high..."

She then turned back to the statue once more. And simply stared... And stared... And stared...

After what felt like hours she finally broke...like a Dam opening its flood gates, she weeped practically collapsing at the feet of her husband's statue.

"Dallas, Winter, Whitley, anyone, help me..." she cried for those she held dearest. More for none other than Dallas Supremo the man she and many others fell in love with, not that abominable thing shackled to the Golden Throne. She could only think when she had talked to her Husband for the first time since her reawakening and after the subsequent battle with her former best friend.

She was in the dust of a corpse-king's court, she was before a resplendent Emperor for all the ages. "Darling?" she said and when she said that word, it was the last time she meant it.

"Darling, I have returned" Weiss forced herself to look up into the pillar of light, the screaming of souls, the empty eyed skull, the impassive god, the old man, yesterday's savior.

"What must I do? Help me Darling, help me save them." In the present, in the past she felt Ruby's wordless presence at her side and felt her fallen Team leader's horror. They looked up at the Emperor of Mankind and could not see, too much, too bright, too powerful. The unreality of the being before her, shook her down to her core. A hundred different impressions, all false and all true raced through her mind; she could not remember what her Husband had looked like before, and Weiss Schnee never forgot anything.

And then that thing, that terrible, awful thing upon the throne saw her...

'My wife' it said.

'Thirteenth' it said.

'Queen of Atlas. Savior. Hope. Failure. Disappointment. Lair. Thief. Betrayer.'

'Weiss...'

She heard all of these at once, she did not hear them at all, the Emperor spoke and did not speak, the very idea of words seemed ridiculous, the concept of them grievous harm against the equilibrium of time and being.

'Weiss... Schnee.' The raging tempest spoke her name, and it was as violent as a dying sun reigns upon its worlds.

'Weiss... Weiss... Weiss' The name echoed down the wind of eternity, never ceasing, never reaching its intended point. The sensation of many minds reaching out to Weiss violating her senses as they tried to commune, but then one mind seemed to come out from the many a raw unbounded power and gave wordless commands to go out and save what they built together, to destroy what they made, to save her sisters, to kill them. Contradictory impulses all impossible to disobey all the same, all different, futures many and terrible raced through her mind. The results of all of these things should she do any? all? or none of them?

'Dallas!' she cried, as thoughts battered her.

'A wife. Not a Wife. A Thing. A Name. Not A Name. A Number. A Tool. A Product.'

A grand plan in ruins an ambition unrealized. Information, too much information coursed through Weiss. Stars and galaxies, entire universes, races older than time, things too terrifying to be real, eroded her being like a storm in full spate carves knife-edged gullies into badlands.

"Please... My husband make sense to me!' She begged.

'Husband. Not A Husband. Thing. Thing. Thing...' the minds said.

'Apotheosis. Victory. Defeat... Choose...' it said.

'Fate. Future. Past. Renewal. Despair... Decay...'

And then it had seemed to be focusing, as if a great will was exerting itself, not for the final time but nearly for the final time. A sense of strength failing, a sense of ending. Far away she heard arcane machines whine and screech, close to collapse, the clamor of screams, of dying psykers that underpinned everything in that horrific throne room, rising higher in pitch and intensity.

'Weiss Schnee' the voices overlaid over lapped, became almost one and Weiss had a fleeting memory of a sad face that had seen too much, and a burden it could barely countenance.

'Weiss... Hear Me. My Last Loyal Primarch. My Pride. My Greatest Triumph.'

How those words burned her, worse than the poisons and toxins of Ruby Rose, worse than the sting of failure, they were not a lie, not entirely, it was worse than that, they were conditional.

'My Last Tool... My Last Hope...'

A final drawing in of power, a thought expelled like a dying breath.

'WEISSSSsssss...'

Shaking away that awful memory she thought back to how she awoke in this Dark Millennium, when her home kingdom had come under attack by the traitorous son of Rias Gremory and his black legion.

The Inquisitor swore again as she saw Cawl hunched, spider-like, over the controls of his auto-reliquary. The Magos' metallic fingers danced across runic keys, his mechadendrites slithering from one socket-port to another while the Ynnari and Skitarii stood guard over him. Beside them stood the Atlesian Guard Chief Librarian, Warren Schnee, Warp light glowing from his eyes and weaving around his skull topped stave.

As Greyfax watched, several frothing Berserkers charged at Warren. The Librarian barked a string of syllables that caused the Khorne-worshippers to implode in a crumpled mass of flesh and metal. Greyfax's psyocculum burbled confused readings as the life energies of the three Berzerkers left their bodies but did not vanish altogether. Ghost returns flickered around the two Ynnari, and Greyfax's suspicions of the Eldar deepened as she realized that they had in some fashion that she did not yet comprehend being empowered by the stolen animus.

Greyfax pushed herself to her feet again, intending to dash across the open ground and command Cawl to cease in the name of the Holy Ordos. At that moment, a stitching line of autocannon fire marched along the top of the pew. Explosions of fire and shrapnel burst around the Inquisitor, hurling her from her feet. Greyfax fired back at her attackers, lashing out with her telepathic powers as she did so, but she was for the moment pinned in place.

Chapter Master Wilhelm Schnee swung his right gauntlet in a punishing arc, hammering it up through his enemy's guard and catching a Chaos Terminator square under the jaw. His enemy's helm disappeared in a blizzard of metal and blood, his corpse slamming down onto its back with bone-breaking force. Before the traitor even hit the ground, Wilhelm was already turning on the spot, both gauntlets held out from his body and bolters thundering. The Chapter Master revolved in a half circle, blazing rounds into the Black Legionnaires on every side and eviscerating another of them with explosive shells. Blocking the return swipe of a crackling power mace,Wilhelm prepared to swing another titanic blow into his enemies. Then he caught sight of movement at the base of Weiss's throne, and cold horror clenched in his chest.

Wilhelm saw the Martian priest step back from his auto-reliquary with the air of one completing a satisfying task. The dome-shaped device hummed forward, unfurling like the petals of some huge, carnivorous flower. The watching Chapter Master was at the wrong angle to see inside the machine, but he had a fleeting impression of glowing energies, unfurling mechadendrites, clamping pincer-limbs and whirring bone-drills that filled him with revulsion. The auto-reliquary was rising and stretching out, enfolding the Primarch's form in its metallic embrace. At the same moment, the xenos witch-priestess lunged with preternatural grace, evading whistling bolt shells as she raised her blade high.

"NO!"bellowed Wilhelm, finding his voice. "I command you to stop! In the Emperor's name, Brother Warren!, stop them!" The Chapter Master's dismay rose to new heights, as Wilhelm looked straight at him, and shook his head. "Do it." shouted the Chief Librarian, blazing psychic energies into the foe that pressed close all around. "And may the Emperor condemn me if you have played me wrong, xenos."

In desperation, Wilhelm raised his bolters and prepared to fire at the Eldar witch, but Yvraine's blade fell lightning fast, hacking through the cabling that fed power to Weiss's stasis field. Energies flared, and from within the closing arms of the auto-reliquary, Wilhelm heard a rattling sigh that would haunt him until his dying day.

"What have you done?!" he roared, despair and fury blazing through him like a firestorm. Fists clenched, Wilhelm turned upon the traitors that had forced this terrible tragedy to come to pass, and waded back into the fight with unstoppable fury.

The auto-reliquary engulfed Weiss Schnee and her throne entirely, runic designators and auto-lumen flickering in mesmerizing patterns across its surface. As though spurred by the sight, the Black Legionnaires redoubled the intensity of their attack.

The foremost Black Legionnaires were mere yards away from the foot of  Weiss's throne when the rune-panels on Cawl's auto-reliquary flickered from red to green. A single chime sounded, a clear, pure note that cut through the clangor like a knife. The Archmagos himself, fighting back to back with the Ynnari and Chief Librarian Warren, emitted an uncharacteristic blurt of binharic triumph. The next moment, the outstretched armatures of the auto-reliquary folded back with a gaseous hiss to reveal a sight of breathtaking splendor.

Where before Weiss Schnee had sat, a pale, stasis-locked revenant, now the Primarch stood awake, alert and very much alive.

Her presence was immense, dominant as a thunderhead suddenly filling the shrine with its crushing pressure. Weiss was clad in a magnificent new suit of armor, an ornate masterwork that had traveled all the way from the forges of Mars within Cawl's auto-reliquary. On one hand the Atlesian Guard's Primarch held the blade of the Emperor, lit now from hilt to tip with leaping flames, and in her eyes was a look of such murderous intensity that even her own sons within the shrine quailed to see it.

It was as though a spell had settled over the shrine. Though outside the din of war thundered on, within that echoing chamber friend and foe alike stared awestruck at the legendary figure reborn in their midst. An incoherent scream of rage shattered the silence, a single Khorne Berzerker charging headlong through the stunned combatants to launch himself in a flying leap at the Primarch. Weiss moved with such blistering speed that the Ynnari themselves would have struggled to match it. Her burning blade drew a pyrotechnic arc through the air as it swung, bisecting the Khorne Berzerker at the waist and hurling his severed halves to the ground.

As the Chaos worshiper's armored corpse crashed to the floor, the spell was broken. With a great howl of hate, the Black Legion warriors surged towards Weiss Schnee. Wordlessly, the noble Goddess strode to meet them, and the carnage truly began.

First to die was the Sorcerer whose powers had shaken the temple to its foundations. Weiss raised her mighty gauntlet, a gift from the Master of Mankind, the Hand of Dominion, and a storm of armor-piercing fire erupted from beneath it to rip the tainted psyker to pieces. Next to fall were the remaining Black Legion Berserkers. Following their comrade's example, they flung themselves screaming at the reborn Primarch. Like their fellow soldiers, they were reduced to so much armored meat, smashed from the air with terrifying speed.

Weiss was running now, storming forward through the hail of bolts and shells unleashed by the Black Legionnaires. Rounds exploded against the Primarch's armor, but none could pierce its inviolable plates. As she crashed into the front ranks of Black Legionnaires, Weiss let out a building roar of pure, undiluted fury. The Primarch's first blow threw a Black Legionnaire high into the air, blood streaming behind the corpse in a red trail. Her second strike smashed a traitor Terminator into a bronze and marble column with enough force to drive the Chaos worshiper clean through it, and out the other side. A spiked power fist swung for Weiss's breastplate, only to be lopped from its wielder's arm before the blow could land. Weiss's return swing separated his attacker's head from his shoulders, cauterizing the stump of the traitor's neck as the body crumpled to the floor. On it went, the Primarch moving with such speed that even the heretics' superhuman reactions couldn't save them. None could match Weiss. None could even come close, and the few opponents that landed lucky blows found their weapons turned aside by the Primarch's masterwork armor.

Warren released a thunderous barrage of psychic energies, thumping tectonic shock waves that hurled Heretic Astartes from their feet and shattered their armor like porcelain. The Chief Librarian felt his mother's gaze upon him then, for just a heartbeat. The Primarch's appraising stare seemed to strip Warren down to his soul. Then Weiss stormed on through the enemy ranks. With every blow, the Primarch of the Atlesian Guard sent mutated corpses tumbling through the air. Her expression was graven granite and frozen hate, a mask of vengeful anger that had endured millennia.

For Weiss, her last memory was a desperate battle against her tainted Battle Sister, a fraternal contest of godlike strength and barbed, hateful taunts then poison and pain beyond endurance. Now she found herself in strange surroundings, facing a twisted horde of creatures that were nightmarish parodies of the Adeptus Astartes ideal. Not that his apparent allies struck Weiss as much more familiar, but she could at least detect who in this vast sepulcher was tainted by Chaos and who was not. For now, that was enough. The Primarch compartmentalized her questions for later, and concentrated solely on the battle at hand.

With another heavy sigh she picked herself off the floor and dusted herself off. Just as she was about to return to her seat and begin working again a loud prominent knock rang out.

"Come in." She sharply ordered as she wiped her tears hurriedly.  It was Whitley Schnee the Third, the former captain of the second company of the Atlesian Guard, now Commander of her Victrix Honor Guard. He was here to relay a message.

"My glorious Primarch, you have received a message from holy Terra and I, Whitley Schnee the 3rd, have come to deliver it to you!" Weiss turned to the door and saw her Son. He stood at the now wide open door with his helmet tucked under his right arm and in his left he held an envelope. How Weiss hated her son's voice despite being relatively old, he still had the high pitched screeches of a 10 year old just beginning to enter puberty.

While originally bullied for it he learned to quickly silence those that mocked him, by doing one-on-one honor duels. Quickly rising through the ranks of the Atlesian Guard earning many titles in his years of faithful service. His titles included 'Master of the Watch,' 'Knight Champion of Atlas,' 'Grand Duke of Talassar,' and 'High Suzerain of Atlas'.

"Yes... thank you Whitley, I shall read it as soon as possible, just leave it on my desk here." She said walking back to her desk and plopping down with a mighty thump, the ancient chair creaked and groaned upon receiving the Primarchs enormous weight. Weiss could only mentally groan, much like the chair, at its sound. She hated how large The Emperor had made her and the other Primarchs. For she alone stood at nearly nine feet in height and weighed close to a ton. Whitley approached her desk and left her an envelope with a purity seal, so commonly found on various things in the Imperium.

Sheaves of blueprints were scattered across the desk in front of her. She reached for the envelope Whitley had left for her on the left side of her desk atop of various other papers, reports, statistics, Etc. Gritting her teeth against the purring of her armor, she always reached with her left hand as she was left handed much like her former team leader Ruby.

With a resounding huff she shook away the memory of her traitorous Sister once more, no matter what she did she could never really let go of her former teammates Ruby, Blake, Yang, throne how she missed them. The integration points of the hand of dominion on her right made picking anything up nigh-impossible. Even with the over gauntlet and its underslung bolter removed, day-to-day tasks such as this were a struggle, her armored fingers pushed at the plastic ceramite skidded across the various papers knocking them to the ground in a wafting flutter.

"Oh for the love of-'' she grumbled. As she stood from her desk, the chair let out a squeak as it skated across the marble flooring of the ship. She walked over to the envelope and the other papers. Whitley had moved to pick them up for her but she waved him off, she bent awkwardly to pick them up.

The Armor of fate was bulky as its waist joints prevented her from flexing her spine and reaching the floor, she had to kneel. She reached for the scattered documents and fingertips failed to grasp the sheets, sending them fleeing in small armadas over the polished floor; she growled in frustration, abandoned her task and stood gaining a curious look from Whitley.

"I have the manual dexterity of a Legio Cybernetica Battle Automaton" Weiss said. "Created by the lord of all Mankind, Master of the greatest armies in the imperium and I cannot pick up an envelope." she glared at the offending articles "My greatest enemy..." There was thoughtful silence. "You are joking.... My lady?" said Whitley. Weiss looked at her Whitley, she had to turn all the way around to do so; the pauldrons, ornamental wings, and large halo mounted on her back made it impossible for her to see over her shoulders, at least she had stopped bumping into things, there was that at least.

"By the throne, why am I expected to be serious at all times? Yes Captain Whitley I am making light of my predicament. During the Great Crusade I was known to make the occasional jest even after Terra fell and my husband, your Emperor, was entombed. I did not spend my entire life writing deep thoughts into little notebooks, but sometimes dared to enjoy myself. I suppose that was not recorded in the hagiographies." She finished with a slight head shake as Whitley looked around awkwardly. "Humor is not something you're renowned for, my Lady." Weiss let out a depressed sigh "My time in this new age has revealed this to me amply... you're free to go." Whitley gave her a sharp nod before clicking his heels together and brought his left hand, clenched into a fist, into his chest and yelled out the chant of the Atlesian Guard. "Courage and Honor!"

Weiss said nothing but watched as her son mechanically left the room. "Courage and Honor..." She echoed, unlike the sons she was familiar with of her time the Atlesian Guard was more robotic and emotionless than- wait no, she was wrong her sons had emotions but only Zealotry and hatred for the enemies of the Imperium. Throne how she missed it all... unsheathing the Emperor's Blade she stared at the unlit blade and down at her chest and ripped the breastplate clean off and stared at her unarmored chest, the Emperor knows how hot it can get in this wretched armor, defense and capability was top priority it seems. She always envied the other girls for their much vuplus figures but she sought comfort knowing she was not the only one with a smaller chest. And just like that she was thinking of the Primarchs again. She growled as she gripped the handle of the sword tighter and thoughts of plunging it deep in the center of her chest flooded her mind, maybe if she got lucky the blade would go through her fused rib cage with ease and sever her two hearts in one plunge.

"Is that really what you want?" A soft voice rang out it was none-other than the ethereal voice of the Emperor of Mankind. Weiss stood up immediately and raised the Sword in an attacking position before realizing who it was. She let out a relieved breath that she didn't even know she was holding in before collapsing into her chair and sheathing the blade. She glared at the spiritual form of her former husband before growling out a reply "What do you want..." he let out a sigh and grabbed a spare chair from the side of the room and brought it to the front of her desk and sat down.

With him now closer she could really see his features better. He was much younger...smaller...cuter. His golden blonde hair was longer than usual and was an unkempt mane that come down only two inches away from his shoulders behind his head was a glowing halo that illuminated the dark room, he wore little clothing, if you could even call it that, they resembled more-so rags wrapped around his boyish body, and his eyes... Unlike hers, they radiated a bright blue color and spoke of power and wisdom. He looked at her with love and adoration, as he bent over the desk and rubbed the scars on the right side of her face. By the Throne... how she missed his touch, his hand was softer than any fabric or fur she had ever felt and gave off such warmth that she couldn't begin to describe it, she closed her eyes and let go of it all. The stresses and worries leaving her mind in her world she wasn't the nine foot tall, Primarch of the Atlesian Guard, Queen of Atlas, Lord regiment of the Imperium of Mankind. No she was simply Weiss, in her mind she saw Dallas Supremo, not the Master of Mankind or the God-Emperor, he was simply a boy and she was simply a girl.

She snapped out of her thoughts and glared at the boy in front of her and pushed his hand away before resuming her work "What do you want..." she snarled "Can't you see I am busy fixing the wreck of your own empire? If you want to speak then speak, do not waste my time..." he merely said nothing but stare. "Cease your silence... Why. Are. You. Here."

"What's wrong, can't I speak to my favorite Primach?"

"Stop toying with me, we both know you had only one favorite and she betrayed you. So I will repeat myself once more, what do you truly want..."

Dallas let out a sigh. "I heard you speaking to the statue of me earlier...and I just wanted to say... I apologize... for everything, the pain and suffering you have had to endure. But just so you know I suffer agonizing torture every second as we speak and I have been doing so for ten-thousand years and I still continue so... it's sad really, sad seeing all these Humans, our people die for something so meaningless in the end."

"I don't want your apology, I want peace"

"And you believe I do not?"

"Oh shut it, you ruthless tyrant, you and I both know that is not true."

"Says the Queen to the Emperor."

Weiss stopped writing and slammed her hands on the desk. "I treated my people fairly and unified Atlas, and its 500 worlds under a peaceful, diplomatic banner. You united all of Terra with the seething beasts you called Thunder Warriors then put them down like the wild dogs they were. So tell me huh? Am I the same as them? A raging beast that would be put down once I have lost my usefulness? Or as you put it am I nothing but, A tool. A product?"

Dallas stared at her sadly and said nothing but grabbed the envelope and handed it to her "Read it...Please..." she snatched the envelope and looked at it "Why should I-" she looked up to see that he was gone...she looked back down at the envelope and unsheathed 'his' blade once more and brought the tip to the envelopes edge and drew it across. Pulling out the tri-folded paper and began to read.

'It's certainly his handwriting' she thought the Emperor did have a very unique way of writing, it was more a blend of normal print and cursive mashed together.

Dear Weiss Supremo

I have a lot to say to you and not much time. I know of all the pain and suffering I have caused to everyone, including you. I know saying sorry won't fix anything but it does bring some little semblance of peace to my mind. I know what I said to you was cruel, the whole 'Tool, Product' thing but just so you know that wasnt me I know it sounded and kinda looked like me-

'No it didn't, not even a little bit' she snorted, recalling that monster that was on the Golden Throne of Terra.

But I have splintered off. For more than a hundred centuries I have sat motionless on the Golden Throne of Terra, by the will of the gods I am the lord of all Mankind, and rule over a million world by the might of my innumerable armies. I am a half rotting corpse whose unseen agony is prolonged by the arcane devices of the Dark Age of Technology. I am the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man, for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed everyday. Thousands of years of torture and unending pain has shattered my psyche to lunacy, I was, and still am, slowly but surely having my own soul torn apart by the entropy of the warp writhing against the powers of my mind, while my physical body decays in perpetual pain, and I am forced to live every second of it. But please I ask of you one final request, come to me at Terra, there are people waiting for you, and they need some help understanding the new reality. From there on I shall give you all a mission one final time. I understand that you may not love me anymore and you hate me but please come see me. I beg of you.

Love, with much regards and kisses, your Husband, Dallas Supremo.

Weiss put down the letter, and thought. Should she do it? Go and see the man who has caused her so much suffering? 'Yes.' She thought 'If not for him, then for my people.' she then reached on her desk and hit the vox button "Captain Whitley?" she waited for a reply "Yes my lady! It is I, Whitley Schnee The 3rd! How can I help you?" She rolled her eyes at her son's arrogance. Always referring to himself in 'I, Whitley Schnee!'

"Tell the Navigators to set a route to Terra, I must speak with the Emperor."

"Yes my Lady! At once!"

She released the Vox button and laid back in her chair thinking on what to do next, and what to say to the Master of all Mankind. Hours passed before a flash of light and the loud crack thunderclap rang out through out the ancient vessel Weiss, thankfully wasn't blinded due to her wearing her helmet but she saw who it was, it was the Star-Child but before she could chew him out for suddenly invading her space he raced towards her and whispered.

"Okay... change of plans we are not going to Terra, something terrible just happened..."

Weiss stood in shock, completely unprepared by the sudden command. She placed her hands on his shoulders and spoke. "Why? What happened? What's wrong?" She asked, she herself was starting to get worried for she had never ever seen him so terrified. His face was pale, his pupils enlarged, his hands trembled. She could tell something was wrong...very wrong.

"What happened?! She shouted as she grabbed his shoulders. He looked her in the eyes and said.

"I died..."

What did he mean by that? He died? Soon loud banging and screams came from the door. Before Weiss could yell out to see who's there. The Star-Child used his psychic powers to keep her quiet while he barricaded the door.

'They are your sons no longer... they have been taken by him...' was the telepathic message sent by him. The barricade didn't last long as it was smashed to pieces and soon warriors in charred armor burst through and at the front and center Whitley the 3rd stood his form now more ethereal. Weiss looked in horror at what her sons had become, she reached out in vain before the Star-Child wrapped her in a hug and teleported them out the ship and into the warp.

It was dark, full of nothingness. She could feel tendrils wrap around her. They weren't crushing her but rather were in a loose grasp instead and there she floated in a sea of nothingness. Her own thoughts being her only companion. Soon a small candle was lit at the center of her chest, she could feel its warmth throughout her body. She knew what or rather who it was. It was him, The Star-Child and he spoke to her

'Weiss... listen closely, I'll be sending you back in time. Find me, he will-" unfortunately the Star-Child was cut short as the whole void was suddenly covered in a golden light. The soft warmth was replaced by a melting heat. She could feel the heat burn through her armor, through her body and down to her bones. What she saw was indescribable, a being made of pure energy and powered by the ten millennia worth worship and dogmatic zealotry. It was the very thing Dallas Supremo feared he would become... a god...