Chapter: 2.2

Chapter: A Deal

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Part: 2

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The strangely bright cosmic realm convulsed as if reacting to her blatant accusation. The very fabric of reality seemed to ripple as the being that identified itself as the Watcher,' responded with a burst of raw energy that tore through reality itself.

"An accusation? How very amusing! Insignificant one, your perceptions are limited, your understanding feebler than your physical manifestation. I am beyond the simplistic dichotomy of Chaos and Order! I am the FIRST! The weaver of LIFE! An entity BEYOND YOUR NARROW COMPREHENSIONS!"

It bellowed and the heat rose even higher than before.

"You dare liken me to the whimsical trickster of Tzeentch?

The voice reverberated, now carrying an undertone of something alien, something beyond the comprehension of a mortal mind.

"You dare label me with the name of a court jester? Such ignorance! I am the foundation upon which the warp and reality are built. I am the force that predates the concepts of your primitive Chaos Gods AND THEIR VERY CREATIONS!"

The being's voice resonated with power, causing Greybrand to bleed from all Orifices, and her body trembled as she stood amidst the tumultuous energies. 

"Your accusations are but the babblings of an ant before a hurricane. But I find them amusing and intriguing, Insignificant one. It had been so long, so very long indeed since someone accused me of being a trickster."

The cosmic storm subsided, leaving Inquisitor Greybrand in a state of suspended existence once more. The being's voice softened, taking on a contemplative tone.

"You have misunderstood, but your ignorance is forgivable. Now, mortal, consider my offer. Serve as my agent, wield the power to shape your destiny, or return to the limited existence of your so-called life, damned to oblivion by those who call themselves your superior."

Greybrand wondered why all the fuck-ups of this universe were coming at her on the same day, perhaps she did something that warranted this much... turbulence in her quiet, peaceful life. The pain had subsided, but a sense of dread still lingered in the back of her mind.

The being's voice echoed, 

"Consider my offer an insignificant one. The power to transcend your mortal limitations, to shape the currents of destiny. An opportunity that comes once in an eternity."

*Sigh*

Maybe she ought to simply deny this being and get absolutely fucked in the process, her soul being damned to whatever torture it might inflict on her when she finally parted the world. The offer, however, seemed too good to be true, and the consequences of accepting such a pact were unknown.

"Your hesitation is understandable, Insignificant one. Mortals fear the unknown, the uncertainty of what lies beyond the veil of their limited perceptions."

Greybrand hesitated, her thoughts torn between the potential for power and the inherent risks that came with dealing with a being of such cosmic magnitude. She spoke again, with that same jagged tone that threatened to tear open her throat,

"Before I consider your offer, Watcher, I demand answers. Who are you, or rather, What are you? And... what is the price for your powers?' "

The being chuckled,

"Didn't I introduce myself already? I am the Echo of the Celestial Weave! The voice of the Thread. The Father of the Star Gods, the C'tan, the Yngir. When they failed to meet my expectations, I became the Creator of the Old Ones. I am the Shadow of Madness, the Light of Reason! The Eye of Oblivion! This Existence runs according to my whims!"

The being paused, its presence looming in the vastness of the strange realm, and then... it laughed. Its laughter echoed in the cosmic void, a sound that transcended the understanding of Inquisitor Greybrand. It resonated with a mixture of amusement, disdain, and a hint of indifference.

"Insignificant one, the concept of a 'price' is a trivial matter for one who perceives the threads of reality itself. What could you possibly possess that I do not already have or cannot acquire effortlessly? However, for the sake of your limited comprehension, let us entertain this notion."

The being's voice took on a tone of mock contemplation as if humoring Greybrand's attempt to grasp its cosmic nature.

"For what you seek, there must be an exchange, a dance of threads in the cosmic tapestry. In return for the power to shape your destiny, to transcend the boundaries of mortality, I require... entertainment! A fragment of my consciousness will remain with you, witnessing your life and when your end comes I shall have a conversation with you yet again."

Greybrand processed the being's words, her mind grappling with the meaning of its offer. A fragment of the entity's consciousness would witness her life in exchange for transcendent power. It was an offer laced with cosmic significance, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that this being had some sort of hidden agenda.

"You wish for... entertainment?"

Greybrand queried, her voice raspy yet it carried her incredulity,

"What could a mere mortal provide that would amuse an entity such as you?"

The being's laughter echoed once more, a sound that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of the cosmic realm.

"Insignificant one, your existence is an abomination or at least a mosaic of souls and a single consciousness. A single powerful consciousness clinging to the silver of your original soul, resorting to tearing apart other souls and fixing itself. You are somewhat unpredictable, as many of your kind are, but you are more so in a rather... amusing manner."

The being continued, its voice carrying a certain richness to it,

"Your struggles, your triumphs, your despair, and your moments of fleeting joy—they are but threads in the grand tapestry of existence. To observe such intricacies, to witness the unfolding narrative of a mortal life, that is the entertainment I seek."

The Inquisitor paused, weighing each of the being's words carefully. Were there any deceptions in its words? She didn't find any. The being's description of its desire for entertainment sounded both abstract and unsettling. She couldn't help but wonder if there were hidden motives, cosmic machinations beyond her comprehension.

"What assurance do I have that this pact won't lead to unforeseen consequences? What guarantee do I have that your presence won't bring harm or chaos into my life?"

Greybrand questioned, her skepticism evident.

The being's response was contemplative, 

"Assurances are fickle things in the vast expanse of the cosmos. Insignificant one, the unknown is an intrinsic part of existence. What I offer is an opportunity—a gamble, if you will. As for harm or chaos, that depends on your perspective. Life itself is a chaotic dance, and my presence merely adds another layer to the intricate patterns."

It continued,

"Consider this, Inquisitor, as a unique proposition. The chance to wield power beyond mortal comprehension, to shape your destiny, and in return, the cosmic spectatorship of an entity that transcends the boundaries of your understanding."

She remained silent for a moment, the offer was tempting but,

"If I accept this pact, what happens next?"

Greybrand inquired, her gaze—or what remained of it—focused on the cosmic void around her.

The being's response was cryptic yet oddly straightforward,

"If you accept, the threads of fate will weave a gift for you... insignificant one. That gift will be yours to do as you please, which will be, of course, commandeered by a fragment of my consciousness. When the final thread of your tapestry unravels, we shall converse once again."

Greybrand contemplated the cosmic entity's proposition that had been laid before her. The being, which identified itself as the Echo of the Celestial Weave, offered her a chance to wield some sort of unimaginable power! 

Of course, in exchange for being a cosmic spectacle throughout her life.

The storm of raw energy that had surrounded her had subsided for a while now, leaving a sense of surreal calmness that contrasted with the events taking place. 

The being waited for her response and she wondered, how long has it been since she fell unconscious due to the warp demon's attack? Perhaps an hour, maybe two? Maybe the concept of time was distorted in this world, hopefully in favor of her situation.

"If I accept, what exactly will this 'gift' be?"

Greybrand questioned, finally deciding to just get this over with. If the being before her was a demon, then she would, at worst, be forced to slaughter every single human onboard the 'Gauntlet,' but the creature seemed powerful enough to do it without her help so maybe this all was true after all?

.

..

...

Well not really, she still wanted to put a couple of bolter rounds through this being's head, just to check if it was a demon or not. But...

'Where's my Throne damned Bolt Pistol!'

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