Chapter Twenty-Three: On Silver Wings (Part VI)

Dante led the charge, each of his blades batting aside Khrave like a sharpened wind. The twin blades of white and black along with the Primarch's wings slashed Xeno warriors apart. Each blow was supersonic, cleaving Dante's foes apart and blasting the pieces with the raw kinetic force within the strikes. The Khrave farthest from the Primarchs psychic blast were charging into the fray. Quickly regrowing damaged eyes and shaking off the traumatic surge of light. It was then the second wave of Astartes arrived, the heavier transports had followed behind the Primarchs flight and were now discharging their cargo. A new noise was added to the song of battle. The Khrave screeches, Astartes battle cries, and clash of steel was joined by the thunder of guns. Angels of the Bull-Host in Terminator Armor accompanied by Brimstone-Hosts with their Volkite Cannons and Boltguns had arrived.

As unstoppable as an asteroid impact, the Terminators marched forward. Armed with mighty Thunder Hammers, Storm Shields and boltguns mounted upon their armored wings. Marked with the Winged-Bull sigil of the IX Legion's second branch they smashed through the Khrave. The Brimstone-Host in turn fanned out, finding gaps in the battle to fire their awesome weapons. Where the Bull-Host had wings of thick metal with weapon mounts capable of acting as shields and turrets. The Brimstone-Host lacked true wings, instead advanced mechadendrites armed with heavy weapons were faceted to the pseudo-limb projecting from their back.

The IX Legion advanced into the Spire, following the Archangel and destroying any resistance. The Primarch had increased his psychic aura to a shining sphere of light that burnt away the Warp-darkness the Khrave produced. As steady as the sun's rising Dante led his legion into the Hive. His wings restless to fly the Primarch charged forward. Mowing through Khrave and traitor infantry with ease. Dante knew the goal ahead of them. The massive central transport at the Spire's heart. Wrapped around the Hives core was a system of lifts and vertical railways that formed the main form of transportation within Bel-Haust. It would be heavily defended. Yet susceptible from attacks from higher levels. The defenses were designed against invasion or insurrection starting at the Hives-base. That was not the way Angels fought, they did not slog through sieges and grind their enemies to dust. They struck from the heavens and cast their foes down.

Through all of the chaos of the battlefield, Dante kept in contact with the fleet. A mixture of Vox and telepathic communication allowing the Primarch to lead the ground battle and oversee the orbital and aerial combat. Tank columns both of Astartes and Auxilia had landed around the Hive. Smashing through any and all resistance in the Hives outskirts. Rapidly approaching its base. With the Stormbirds and Interceptors harassing the Hive top, the Armored forces attacking the bottom and the deep striking host attacking the tower from within. The Khrave and Bel defenses were stretched thin. The sight of the Angels attacking across Bel-Haust had stunned and shocked its human occupants. With the less indoctrinated citizens and soldiers of the Hive turning on their overlords in frantic attempts to earn the forgiveness of the invading Legion.

Through all of this, the Primarch prepared himself. His foresight had shown him the defenses of Hossak in their near entirety. Including the one thing upon this infested world that could threaten the Imperial offense. The true guardian of Hossak. From the moment the IX Legion entered the orbit of the planet, Dante could feel it. An inscrutable alien presence slumbering within Bel-Haust hive. From an outside perspective, it seemed Hossak was only moderately defended. It was a Rangda farming world at the edge of their controlled space. Something of reasonable tactical importance, yet not defended by more than a Khrave occupation and traitor humans. This seeming weakness was a trap. A trap the Imperial Archangel had sprung with full awareness of it. Hossak was rich in natural resources aside from the "livestock" for the Rangda. It would be the perfect bait for any rising galactic civilization. Attacking Hossak would demonstrate the civilization that fell for the bait was powerful enough to do so. New prey presenting itself to the Rangda Empire. A healthy rising galactic power, perfect fodder for the Halo Stars' masters.

Attacking Hossak tied down an invading force in a siege. Giving the Rangda time to gather their forces and seek out the new prey. If the attackers were powerful enough, however. They would activate a surprise the Rangda left on Hossak. A weapon that would not only break the offense upon Hossak but traumatize the invaders, making them easy for Rangda consumption. That weapon now awoke, the trap had been sprung and the first calls to war were starting deep in the Galactic North. Now it fell to Dante to destroy the weapon and claim Hossak before the Rangda could be fully roused. As the IX Legion descended into the Hive, the Rangda weapon opened its un-eyes and watched the Primarch. Soon it would come for the Emperor's son.

After nearly an hour of fighting into the Hive-Spire, Dante and the IX Legion reached the nearest part of the transport core. A great chainhauler that formed a line of building-sized palettes being cycled from the bottom of the hive to its very top. Even as the battle raged around it the chainlift continued its movement. Rotating the massive palettes through the hive. Stopping as they connected with each section of the hive. Giving absent workers time to move cargo. Dante approached the nearest cargo container. The Primarch knew what was in each of the boxes. He had known when he first peered into the future of this battle. Still, he hoped he would be wrong. That just maybe this time was one of those times his visions failed him. Sheathing his silver sword Dante pulled one of the boxes from its setting and ripped its top off with one even motion. The container gave easily under the Primarch's grip. Icy slime started to ooze from the box, pooling onto the floor, filling the Primarch's nostrils with the scent of industrial coolant that did little to hide the other smell coming from the container. That of frozen flesh.

With an armored hand Dante wiped away layers of the slime, until the box's content was visible. It was a human body. That of a child, probably thirteen at the oldest. Shaved of all hair and emaciated. It took Dante a moment to realize he was looking at a girl. Her flesh was distorted by growth stimulants, inadequate sustenance, and a short lifetime of hardship. Her eyes stared up blankly, the terror of her death captured in a rictus. A series of brands marked her abdomen. Some long healed and stretched by years of growth, others inflicted after her death. All markings in the Rangda tongue, serial numbers. With surprising gentleness from a transhuman warlord, Dante stroked the child's face with a single, hulking digit. With a motion, he shut the girl's eyes. Pulling away from the murdered child Dante whispered words of power and summoned golden flames, turning the body before him to ash.

Faster than even his honor guard could react, Dante grabbed another coffin from the stack and stared down at another dead child. Alien chemicals had swollen these children to the size of adults, increasing the development of bones, neural tissue and other organic matter the Rangda Empire hungered for. Repeating his earlier actions, the Primarch cremated the remains and moved onto another coffin. Then another and another. At that moment, Dante hated his transhuman genius. From just a glance around him, he automatically calculated how many bodies were on the palette. ten thousand human children were boxed as food upon the massive palette. A million for every cycle of the chainlift. The product of hundreds of city-farms across Hossak. All being transported up into the void to feed a ravenous Empire of monsters.

Igniting the entire palette with a wave of his hand, Dante stepped away from it. The IX Legion were spreading out across the hive. The Bull-Host were smashing their way into the upper hive's more fortified sections. Khrave resistance was fierces but barely able to slow down the Astartes. The Hayyoth and other Legion high command were performing excellently. Reports of entire cities across Hossak falling were trickling back. The outer perimeter of Bel-Haust had fallen. The Imperial Armor cracking the walls under sheer power of ordinance. Scouts were observing the first retreats. Both Khrave defenders and Bel traitors were feeling the pressure. The Khrave were not a warrior-breed. They were meant to find and control food sources for their Masters. The Bel, in turn, had lived more than a century engaging in the worst crimes mankind could commit. No matter how much propaganda or Xeno taint they swallowed, something inside them knew what they were doing was wrong. Not even out of a sense of morality, but a fear of punishment once held accountable.

Reaching out telepathically, Dante spoke to the Hayyoth and gave operational command to them. The force within the Hive would locate the shield generators and destroy them. He trusted his eldest sons to perform admirably. They were creatures of war, designed to fight and win even the worst conflicts. The Primarch was different, more than just a tool of war. He was an ancient divinity given flesh. Power reclaimed on Moloch, clad in physical form crafted by mankind's genius. Dante was the Angel of Mankind. Born to watch, to protect, and to destroy. Since the earliest days of human history, the greatest of crimes were believed to be punished by divine retribution. Angels of Death, Destroying Angels, Wrath of Gods, Heavenly Judgement, Divine Watchers, Tool of Smiting. So many terms for that primal idea. The idea that powers beyond anything that primitive man could imagine would protect the weak and punish the wicked.

Dante was that idea, and many more. He surrendered the burden of command to his sons and embraced his truest nature. Plunging his silver and black swords into the hive floor with such strength it did not just pierce the metal but cracked it in twenty meters around him, Dante spread his wings wide and roared a challenge to the Hive of the Damned. "FACE ME!"

A shockwave blasted through the hive like the Trumpet of Revelations, shattering glass and cracking stone for miles in every direction. Thousands upon thousands of Bel throughout the Hive-Spire were deafened instantly. Khrave were brought low by the psychic detonation. The Primarch's challenge was shouted into both sides of existence. Rippling through the Warp and the Hive's atmosphere equally. Dante wanted to call out the Weapon the Rangda left. Let the Archangel face a monster worthy of his wrath. It was more than willing.

The entire Hive of Bel-Haust felt something shift.. Across the billions of mortals inhabiting the Hive, a vague sense of vertigo spread. A feeling that some cavernous pit had been opened. An abyss widening to swallow them all. The fear and tension from the battle boiled over. Weak willed traitors had their minds snapped by an Angels Wrath and an abominations awakening. The screaming started across the hive. Thousands leapt willingly to their deaths, weeping and laughing as they went. Riots broke out as entire Hab-blocks descended into mob-frenzy.

All while something primordial rose from below the Hive. Every soul-bearing creature within fifty kilometers could feel it. The Imperial Auxilia were rattled, but quickly recovered. They had been trained for worse. Fighting alongside Angels, the Auxilia pushed through the pain and fought on. From the Hive's deepest core something slithered higher and higher. Feeling it coming closer, Dante was reminded of a well rapidly filling with putrid water. A rising tide of evil that flowed upwards through the hive's central channels. After a long moment, the presence rose up to the level Dante stood upon. Slowly the Primarch raised his swords and changed stance. He could feel an ugly intelligence pressing against his soul.

"Come monster, face your judgment."Dante spat, igniting psychic flames and power-fields upon his weapons. A thunderous crash of ripping metal and breaking stone was the xeno's response. The Rangda safeguard had pulled itself up from its nest through the thermal exchange tunnel at the Hives center. Now it barreled through the structure of Bel-Haust to reach its target. The local hive shook with impact after impact as the monster smashed through the superstructure. Not caring for obstacles or path of least resistance. It simply charged a straight line forward. Hive-Quakes started to rattle through the acrology from the damage inflicted. Dante paid them no head. His mind and body focused on whatever was coming for him.

With nightmarish force, the monster smashed through its final obstacle. Entering the Dockyard the Primarch and his honor guard stood within. It was fast, too fast even for Astartes. Smashing Azkellion and his Brothers away with a lash of power the monster reached its target. Limb/Blade/Things came down upon Dante's crossed blades with the force of artillery. The Primarch did not move, but the steel beneath him buckled slightly from the blow. Staring at his foe Dante felt its name upon his lips. A name that would be the last frantic scream of millions of Imperial soldiers in the years to come. The title was given to the most powerful of the Rangda War-Breeds. One earned through impossible actions and nightmarish power. "Theophage, God-Eater."

In the coming years, the Imperium would learn the truth of the Rangda. How they were naturally Blanks. Protected from the dangers of the warp, and yet still capable of using its power through accursed methods. When a Rangda infests a host body, it devours it fully. The Xeno consumed their soul and used it as fuel for Psychic Arts. The Khrave and some other vassal-breeds were designed to be naturally psychic and capable of gaining bits of power from what they consumed. Yet they were still weak to the threats of the Warp. True Rangda however, were different. Long ago they had altered there very connection to the Warp. Becoming a species of Blanks, protected from Chaos and many dangers of the Warp. Still, these parasites were unwilling to give up the powers of the immaterium. They learned the art of feeding on souls as well as flesh. Using the broken fragments of there victims warp-presence to power biological sorcery. Devouring sentient beings and fueling alien rituals and warp-craft. The ultimate defilement and consumption of there prey.

Strong Warbreeds of Rangda could take this dread parasitism to its next level. Taking a host claimed by another power for themselves. Infecting and devouring Daemons of Chaos. Capturing Daemonhosts and manifested Neverborn and consuming them entirely. This required a force of will and power beyond most any mortal breed is capable. And yet, it was not the pinnacle of these warp-eating arts. The greatest of the greatest Rangda hunted the chosen of the Dark Gods. Daemon Princes, Greater Daemons, Heralds and other servants/pieces of the Four. That is a Theophage. A predator of Greater Daemons, chaos itself enslaved and devoured by Rangda might. No longer fueling its power with scraps of souls but the digested remains of the Dark Gods chosen.