32. Humanity

-Oh, who might you be, little girl, a new older Holder of the Key or a Prophet of the Fall?-

The little girl froze, eyes widening and body trembling, heart racing, and breathing quickly and irregularly, falling into hyperventilation. But all of a sudden, a sensation of calm and peace washed over her soul, and she felt herself come back from her fall.

"Wh-what? W-who are you…? Where ar-are you?" She asked, her eyes darting all around, looking for the being speaking to her, a being she instinctively felt from deep in her soul was above all that she knew. The voice was merely an addition.

-The ring young human. It's through it that I'm communicating with you. As for me… I'm known by many names and titles, but you can call me Shahar, the One who Guide the Lost Souls in the Darkness, the Lord of the Dawn. And you, what is your name, or have you one?- The voice, now named Shahar, said, and there was a long moment for the human girl to find her words.

"Yes! In-Inanna daugh-ter of Ezra and Acantha." Inanna half squealed, half stuttered, the latter seemingly disappearing; the more words flowed, the clearer they were, as if her mind was lulled into a zen state.

-Then Inanna, let's begin our journey back to them.- He said softly, and she stood up, dusting the sand off her legs, and did as the divine voice asked, the idea of never refusing once gracing her mind.

The same was true for the understanding of words and abstract concepts no one of her status and times could or should understand, the knowledge silently seeping into her mind by the will of Shahar. That wouldn't do if he were to speak and his audience hearing from one ear and the information slipping from the other, would it?

"What-at do you desire from me, Oh Great Lord?" Inanna tentatively asked, fear flashing in her eyes as if the mere fact of doing this was a reason to punish her and all she held precious to her heart.

-There is no reason to be afraid, young human. I will not smite you. As for what do I desire from a mortal? To heed my words, for cataclysm awaits us all, and I wish for your people to survive.- He intoned with a grave tone that made the girl's heart rate increase.

-Though do not panic; the Fall is for a time of which you would have turned to dust upon the winds unless you prove to be worthy of perpetuity.- He added with a light chuckle as if the prospect of immortality was nothing of value, not that Inanna understood it. She was too young.

"Ah, okay." She said there was too much information and little personal knowledge to say more than this. Even with her filling with new understanding, it was all nebulous.

And so, with the godly artifact held between careful hands, Inanna began the journey back to the village. While doing so, at some point, she started to ask questions about the knowledge she was gaining and her natural curiosity. Each time, she was getting more comfortable.

"How tall is tall?"

"What keeps the big fire in the sky burning?"

"Who fills and empties the sea?"

"Why do Ma and Da sometimes make loud, happy noises with clap-clap when it's dark?"

"When is where?"

"Is heaven made of meat? Can I share it with my little brother and eat it together?"

And these types of questions, most random and senseless, with some minutely more interesting than others. Half ended without an answer, and the other with varying responses from Shahar.

-Silence.- At this, the human girl obeyed. This was not as soft as before. It was an order, and her mouth shut down, and as she was going to ask, Shahar stopped her.

-You can think, and I will hear you. There is no necessity to speak. Put the ring on and follow my instructions. There is something prancing around here. Something that would happily feast on your entrail and beating heart.- Were his words followed the next instant by her mentally agreeing in confused fright.

Then she clumsily put her hand into an odd praying position, tips of thumbs, index and pinky fingers touching one another while the middle and ring finger folded for both to connect by their middle phalanx.

A prayer that the Khrave knew, but here it was pretty different in what it could with the Key of the Flask, a fragment of a God, and through miracles become a reality. Minor in the cosmos but immense for mortals.

Her eyes rolled back, and her mouth opened as she entered a trancelike state. The voice that left her lips was hers, yet not. It was distorted both high-pitched and deep with words of a language unknown to this planet, Anoqeyån. The language of magic itself. As each verse ended, the incantation became faster, soon reaching speed beyond what was biologically possible.

The world's light grew dimmer, the movement of the air and the leaves abated, and for a breath of time that seemed to stretch for eternity, every sound ceased. Then, in front of Inanna, reality fractured, and all in half, circles exploded into shards of what once were the packs of wolves waiting, exploding into countless fragments of bones and flesh.

She fell to her blood trickling from her eyes, nose, and ears, her hand clutching the forest ground as she breathed heavily.

She lifted her head, and her wide-open eyes stared in shock at the devastating result of her words, for hundreds of meters all but annihilated to pieces of glass. Then she felt like her mind had expanded, connected to something incomprehensibly large, an endless well of energy, and she gazed at one of her hands crackling with blue electricity.

-How do you feel, Inanna? How does it feel to be the first psychic human to walk on this earth?- With this grand, a sensation of calmness washed over her, stopping any strong reaction that could potentially lead her to harm herself by mistake.

"Incredible…" She said breathlessly; the realization of what happened and what it meant was impossible for her to comprehend, but what she understood was that all would change from that day.

-Excellent, let's heal the damage upon your body first, and we should continue. There is a lot for you to discover and experience. Dying so soon would be unpleasant.- Shahar or, more accurately, Hoopa said as he guided the future Mother of Psyker onto her first ritual to heal her wounds.

He had much planned for this species he once was part of, but to enact those plans, he needed to start little, and awakening the latent psychic potential of humans was the beginning.

Of course, all within the freedom of those future individuals, though it would be more than simple hubris from his obsession with that subject tied to his history but also divinities. They were so much more than control over aspects of reality and unreality. They were an integral part of him and reflected in his everything.

Though he was very good at deals and powers came at a price, a price that he counted on to claim in due time in itty-bitty favor.

But then again, it would be for millennia ahead, and at the moment, he would have to play the imaginary, not-so-imaginary friend of a mortal girl.

'A never-ending cycle of masters for me to obey? Is that so, Mother… You need to word your order more precisely, a lesson not even in imminent death you have learned.' He internally chuckled, guiding the first psyker on the correct shape of the pentacle and where the wolves' organs shall be.

Countless light years from there, in the heart of the Labyrinthine Dimension, or Webways as it more commonly came to be called, was an ancient palace of immaculate gold upon white marble, creating a place beyond the realm of art.

And within the center of this palace, the Celestian Enclave, was the Thrones Room. Sitting on the most imposing thrones, one of the molten stars and living flames, was the Phoenix King, Asuryan, and his blazing-eyed shinned staring into the incompressible treacherous waves of the Warp.

Speaking of traitorous…

"The Traitor has awakened." He stated matter of factly with cold fury, hands clutching on the armchair and shattering them as his revelation echoed in the ears of his brothers and sisters.

The first to react was a figure almost parallel to him in appearance if not for the violence and aggressiveness made manifest into physicality. Rage of immensity far superior to Asuryan radiated from his form. It was so bright that it exploded outward, ignoring all barriers and echoing through the veil into the chaotic psychic realm.

Without words but a rageful shriek of hate, Khaine, in a blast of psychic power with the potency dwarfing the largest of supernovas, disappeared, leaving behind his metallic throne little more than molten slag as the Bloody-Handed God.

"Oohh! What a pretty light show! Could have done better on the musical performance, but oh well! Can't have it all." Cegorach exclaimed, clapping his hand happily, earning a glare from his Forgebound brother.

"Silence, buffoon! This is no time for your tomfoolery and senseless humor." Vaul snapped, irritation oozing from his every word.

"Enough!" Asuryan said coolly, then focused on the Crone, "Morai-Heg spoke of what you have seen."

"The Fallen God has awakened from his deathly slumber-" The first head began, "-the Great Motherworld under his rule moved from the Father of Lies' pitiful phantom realm-" and the last finished, "-Freedom he seeks and stops the Hour Demise he desires."

The last part caused an added layer of tension in the room; none were ignorant of the future that awaited them, death and destruction, but to whom they remained uncertain. Lileath had sensed the coming destruction, and through deduction, the hypothetical culprits had been chosen: their children, the Aeldari.

This piece of news had sent Khaine into a frenzy on Realspace, murdering and destroying without mercy on their subjects as he did after the betrayal where he annihilated the near totality of Hoopa followers, killing a third of every mortal race in his blind vengeance.

"Does he succeed, sister?" Kurnous questioned inquisitively, his clawed fingers tapping rhythmically on his left muscular arm. There were no readable emotions in his rumbling voice but a sensation of feigning hope.

"Yes." The youngest head said, "No," the middle-aged one contradicted the former, and the oldest finished with dread, "The darkness blind my sight, and so does the False Architect whose eyes are darkened."

"We are in the unknown. Excellent, that's what we needed, then what do we do?" Vaul commented in irritation at their situation. Though there was no particular disrespect aimed at the tricephalic Goddess, he didn't want to be punished, certainly not by her, and he respected her too much to slight her.

"We go and help our dear darkest and favorite little brother of ours, of course!" The Great Harlequin exclaimed as if it was the most evident thing in the world. His self-assured nods show off his pride in his idea.

"Madness!" Vaul violently disagreed, "I knew you were always close, too much, in my opinion! You knew of his treacherous plannhhhg!-"

"Tata~! Keep your opinion to yourself. Would you do me that little favor, broootheeer?" The clown deity sang, invoking a red squeaky ball in the Forgebound's mouth whose anger reached new heights, as did the squeaking noise of the gag.

"Both of you, cease this at once," Asuryan commanded, and with a pout, his most eccentric brother obeyed while the Patron of all Crafts scowled, spitting the ball out with a snarl.

"It greatly pains me to admit, but Cegorach is correct." Lileath's voice echoed, painting many contradictory emotions in the chamber, "It is too late to alter what has begun, and we would need… We would need…"

She stopped feeling the eyes of her King fall on her and, with it, an oppressive pressure.

"Continues, do you wish to say that we lack the strength to fight against the tumors of the Sea of Souls?" He asked, hunching forward, his massive form of pure light casting a shadow on the younger Goddess.

But it wasn't Lileath who answered.

"Yes." Isha intoned with a displeased frown, staring into his flaming eyes unblinkingly with calm defiance, his surprise clear to his audience at the gentle Goddess' action, "Asuryan, we have waned and are but a pale shadow of our glory. Our mistakes will prove our downfall and our children's destruction if we do not act."

"Isolation has not done us good. And as for him… His power is of the most vital nature for us to lighten our dark path. His crimes are secondary to annihilation by those twisted abominations and the death of countless." She declared with a firmness none was used to but her mate Kurnous, though for different reasons that were not here.

"I commend this reunion to be ended. You can proceed to your domain." Asuryan bellowed, teleporting into the First Layer where his chamber lay. An awkward silence took place; this reaction was abnormal and baffling on multiple levels.

"Heh, if that isn't an anticlimactic end." Cegorach chuckled, his head snapped at 360°, and he asked the Crone with a giggle, "Can I, Momo?"

Already knowing, she nodded from her middle head before her body turned to sand wafted by the wind, her pretense unneeded here and destination to where her Consort went. The damages of his rampage would have to be reversed after all.

"What is it?" Vaul, in his ever-present impatience, was the first to demand.

"One simple question to you all: have you ever wondered why our dear wise and all-powerful King isn't lowering the barrier stopping us from righting the past? I mean, our yelling walking butchery is a good point, but we do have the option to take care of that little inconvenience… It's not a matter of wanting but of could." The Great Harlequin trailed off.

"Why has Asuryan not lifted the barrier? Or is it that he can't?" He finished with a chuckle that resonated in the Thrones Room as he melted into a shower of confetti. All were left to ponder upon his words.

*

My P@treon is up to chap 40 if you are interested.

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