1st Contact with Chaos
As the Gloriana-class battleship "Sweet Liberty" emerged from the Warp, Franklin Valorian stood on the bridge, his imposing 15-foot frame dwarfing even his Astartes officers. The viewscreen before him showed a system of ten planets orbiting a dim star, all overshadowed by a colossal, swirling vortex of Warp energy.
"Sovereign," Franklin addressed the ship's AI, "what are we looking at here?"
The AI's voice resonated through the bridge. "Unknown system, Lord Valorian. The Warp anomaly is unlike anything in our records. Extreme caution advised."
Franklin stroked his chin, a grin spreading across his face despite the ominous sight. "Well, ain't that just the dandiest thing you ever saw? Let's call it the Eye of Terror. Fits, don't it?"
His second-in-command, Denzel, looked concerned. "Sir, perhaps we should withdraw and report this to-"
"Nonsense!" Franklin boomed, slapping Denzel on the back hard enough to make the Astartes stumble. "Where's your sense of adventure? Besides," his voice lowered, a rare seriousness creeping in, "I've got a feeling about this place. It's important, mark my words."
As the fleet moved deeper into the system, scans revealed human life on the third planet. Franklin's eyes lit up. "Well, I'll be! Looks like we've got ourselves some long-lost cousins to meet. Sovereign, what should we call this rock?"
Before the AI could respond, Franklin snapped his fingers. "Cadia! Don't ask me why, just feels right."
Within hours, Franklin, accompanied by his Secret Service honor guard led by John Ezra, made planetfall. The Secret Service, a mix of Astartes in sleek mech suits and Liberty Guardsmen in power armor, formed a protective perimeter around their Primarch.
As they approached the largest settlement, Franklin couldn't shake an unsettling feeling. The architecture was... wrong. Spires twisted at impossible angles, and murals depicted scenes that hurt the eyes to look at directly.
A delegation approached, led by a tall, pale man with startling red eyes. "Welcome, strangers," he said, his voice oddly melodic. "I am Cain, leader of the Scarlet Eyes. What brings you to our humble world?"
Franklin, towering over Cain, flashed his trademark grin. "Well, howdy there! Name's Franklin Valorian, Primarch of the Liberty Eagles. We're here on behalf of the Emperor of Mankind, offering you fine folks a chance to join the greatest show in the galaxy - the Imperium!"
Cain's expression remained neutral. "And what would this... submission entail?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," Franklin said, waving a hand casually. "Some terraforming to spruce up the place, a dash of managed democracy - trust me, it's better than it sounds - and of course, the protection of the mightiest military force this side of the galaxy."
As Franklin spoke, he noticed Cain's eyes darting to the shadows between buildings. Were those whispers he heard?
Cain smiled, revealing teeth that seemed just a bit too sharp. "A generous offer. Perhaps we could discuss this further in the temple? Our... leaders would be most interested."
Franklin's instincts screamed danger, but his face betrayed nothing but easy confidence. "Lead the way, partner. I do love me a good temple."
As they walked through the winding streets, Franklin engaged Cain in conversation, probing for information.
"So, tell me about these 'Scarlet Eyes' of yours. Interesting name for a civilization."
Cain's smile never wavered. "We are blessed by the gods with sight beyond sight. Our eyes see truths hidden from others."
Franklin raised an eyebrow. "Gods, plural? Care to elaborate on that?"
"In time, Lord Valorian. All will be revealed in the temple."
The deeper they went into the city, the more Franklin's unease grew. The whispers in the shadows grew louder, and he could have sworn he saw movement in his peripheral vision - movement that wasn't there when he turned to look.
They reached the temple, a massive structure that seemed to bend and shift as Franklin looked at it. His Secret Service tensed, weapons at the ready.
Franklin Valorian strode into the temple, his massive frame dwarfing the ornate entrance. John Ezra, head of his Secret Service, followed close behind, mechasuit sensors on high alert. The interior was a cacophony of wrongness - architecture that defied logic, murals that hurt the eyes, and an oppressive atmosphere that seemed to whisper dark promises.
At the center of the unholy sanctuary stood four statues, each radiating an aura of malevolence that made even the Primarch's skin crawl. Franklin's eyes narrowed as he took in each abomination in turn.
The skull spoke first, its voice a guttural roar that reverberated solely in Franklin Valorian's mind. "𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧, 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫! 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡! 𝐉𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦!"
Franklin's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Well, ain't you a charmer," he muttered. "Let me guess, you're the type who thinks 'liberty' means the freedom to bash skulls all day?"
The rainbow bird's discordant melody slid into his thoughts. "𝔄𝔥, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡, 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫? 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔥𝔫𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶 𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔡. ℑ 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔩𝔢𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔥𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫. ℑ𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔩𝔢𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔬𝔪? 𝔍𝔬𝔦𝔫 𝔲𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢."
Franklin's grin widened. "Now that's rich coming from an overgrown parrot. I've seen better light shows at a county fair. You call that change? I call it a fancy way of standing still."
The bloated statue's voice gurgled with a pitch that slithered into Franklin's consciousness. "ƒяαηкℓιη, му вσу, ωну ƒιgнт? α¢¢єρт му gιƒтѕ, αη∂ уσυ'ℓℓ ηєνєя кησω ραιη σя ƒєαя αgαιη. уσυя ℓєgιση ωιℓℓ вє ιηνιη¢ιвℓє, ƒяєє ƒяσм тнє яαναgєѕ σƒ тιмє αη∂ ωαя. ιѕη'т тнαт тнє υℓтιмαтє ℓιвєяту?"
Franklin laughed heartily. "Buddy, if I wanted to embrace inevitable decay, I'd have stayed home and watched daytime holo-dramas. I'd rather not. You smell like shit too; I'd rather not share your scent. The ladies might hate me."
Finally, the serpentine statue's seductive purr slithered into his mind. "𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇, 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝐹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓃. 𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒽? 𝒲𝑒 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝒸𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉𝓈. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒. 𝐼𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓊𝓁𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒾𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓉𝓎?"
For what seemed like an eternity, Franklin Valorian remained untouched by the Chaos Gods' influence.
As the whispers of the Chaos Gods grew louder, John Ezra, head of the Secret Service and loyal to Franklin Valorian, experienced a mounting agony in his mind. The psychic assault from the statues of the Chaos Gods was relentless, causing him to stagger and drop to his knees, groaning in pain from the maddening visions as he showed signs of corruption.
Yet, despite the torment, Ezra felt a curious shift in his perception as he drew closer to his Primarch. The oppressive weight of the psychic assault seemed to lessen and his corruption, gradually dissipating as he neared Franklin. His eyes were drawn to a slight, golden aura that seemed to emanate from Franklin's form—a halo of defiant light amid the encroaching darkness of Chaos.
In that moment, Ezra witnessed a profound truth reflected in Franklin's eyes. The Indomitable Will of Humanity seemed to blaze brightly within his Primarch. Where the Chaos Gods sought to sow doubt and corruption, Franklin stood as a beacon of unyielding resolve. His presence alone seemed to repel the invasive whispers, a living testament to his unwavering conviction and the heart of liberty.
Khorne's voice thundered: "𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡! 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞!
Franklin rolled his eyes. "Freedom ain't about who can punch the hardest, numbnuts. It's about lifting each other up, not tearing everything down."
Tzeentch's honeyed tones slithered "𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴. 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔩𝔢𝔡𝔤𝔢, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℑ𝔪𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔪 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔞 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔬𝔪."
"Change for the sake of change is just running in circles," Franklin retorted. "Real progress comes from building on what works, not tearing it all down every Tuesday."
Nurgle's gurgling voice oozed "α¢¢єρт му gιƒтѕ, αη∂ уσυя ρєσρℓє ωιℓℓ кησω ƒяєє∂σм ƒяσм ƒєαя, ƒяσм ραιη, ƒяσм тнє туяαηηу σƒ тιмє ιтѕєℓƒ."
Franklin's face scrunched up in disgust. "Freedom from fear? More like freedom from basic hygiene. Hard pass, Pus-Bucket."
Slanesh's seductive purr drifted through his thoughts. "𝒪𝒽, 𝐹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓃. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑜𝓂, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎. 𝐼 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒷𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃—𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓇𝓊𝓁𝑒𝓈, 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉𝓈. 𝐸𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒."
"Lady…alphabet," he corrected himself, noting the voice's fluid shift between genders, "if you think that's freedom, you've clearly never had to pay a bar tab," Franklin chuckled. "Real liberty comes with responsibility, not just doing whatever the hell you want."
As the whispers crescendoed into a cacophony, John Ezra fell to his knees, wracked with agony from the psychic assault he hid behind his Primarch's massive frame to ease the pain.
As the Chaos Gods unleashed their psychic assault upon Franklin Valorian, their visions grew increasingly vivid and horrific. Each entity sought to shatter his unyielding will with a series of grim prophecies, depicting a future steeped in suffering and chaos should he refuse their seductive offers.
The first vision was a maelstrom of devastation. Franklin saw his beloved Independence Cluster engulfed in flames, its cities burning and its people screaming in terror. The once-thriving planetary system was reduced to ashes, its citizens enslaved and forcibly converted into servitors—dehumanized husks of their former selves, bound in chains and subjected to horrific experiments. The sight was a harrowing portrayal of a future where the might of the Imperium and the Mechanicus had turned his vibrant world into a desolate wasteland. The vision climaxed with the crushing realization that these horrors were the direct result of his refusal to embrace the gifts of the Chaos Gods.
In another vision, Franklin witnessed the Emperor of Mankind himself laying waste to the entire sector, his wrathful power obliterating everything in its path. The Emperor's destructive fury extended to his own brother Primarchs, who were shown in a twisted display of betrayal and carnage. The once-noble guardians of humanity had become harbingers of ruin, their once-glorious Legions turned against each other in a cataclysmic war of annihilation. The vision painted a grim picture of a future where the very forces Franklin revered were consumed by corruption and madness, leaving the sector in a state of ruin and despair.
The third vision was equally disturbing, revealing a different facet of impending doom. Franklin saw the Ecclesiarchy, the Inquisition, and Space Marine Chapters of unknown heraldry converging upon the Independence Cluster. These factions, driven by their relentless pursuit of heresy and technological supremacy, waged a brutal campaign against Franklin's people. The advanced technology of the Independence Cluster, a symbol of their progress and freedom, was seized by these invaders. The vision portrayed a dark future where the very institutions that should have protected humanity were instead instrumental in its subjugation and exploitation. The Ecclesiarchy's fanatical zeal, the Inquisition's merciless investigations, and the Space Marines' unrelenting assault led to a brutal conquest, stripping the Cluster of its most valuable assets and reducing its inhabitants to oppressed, fearful survivors.
In the midst of these visions, the Chaos Gods' voices grew more insistent, their tones dripping with malevolent glee." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐲 𝐮𝐬, 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧," boomed Khorne's voice. "𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐉𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."
Tzeentch's voice slithered through Franklin's thoughts. "𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℑ𝔪𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔪'𝔰 𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔭 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢. 𝔚𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶. 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢."
Nurgle's voice gurgled with sickly satisfaction. "ωιтηєѕѕ тнє ƒυтυяє тнαт αωαιтѕ—∂єαтн, ∂є¢αу, αη∂ ∂єѕραιя. σηℓу тняσυgн συя gιƒтѕ ¢αη уσυ ѕαƒєgυαя∂ уσυя ρєσρℓє ƒяσм тнιѕ gяιм ƒαтє."
Slanesh's seductive tones whispered, "𝐼𝓃𝒹𝓊𝓁𝑔𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓅, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑜𝓂. 𝑅𝑒𝒿𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓊𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝓂𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝓊𝓈𝓉."
Despite the escalating horror and the Chaos Gods' seductive temptations, Franklin Valorian's resolve remained unshaken. The visions only fueled his determination to defy them.
Even after the apocalyptic destruction depicted, there was one glaring omission: the weapons and technology of the Independence Cluster System were conspicuously absent. No advanced armaments, no formidable voidships, and none of the sophisticated defenses that had safeguarded his people through countless threats appeared in the visions. These so called Gods were full of shit and the portrayal of his future was fundamentally flawed.
Franklin's eyes narrowed with realization as he processed the implications. The visions were nothing more than elaborate fabrications, designed to exploit fear and sow doubt. These so called Gods, in their desperate attempt to corrupt him, had failed to account for the true might of his realm.
Franklin stood tall "Oh, spare me the melodrama," he said, his voice a rich blend of sarcasm and defiance. "I've seen more convincing performances from malfunctioning servitors. You call this a threat? I'm supposed to be shaking in my boots because of some flashy light shows and nightmarish visions?"
He laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the temple like a thunderclap. "You think you can scare me with these lame scare tactics? Get a grip! I'm not about to start cowering because you've shown me a bunch of flashy nightmares. My Cluster has weathered worse storms than your pathetic attempts at intimidation."
His laughter grew louder, a sound of pure defiance that seemed to mock the very essence of the Chaos Gods. "Seriously, you're all bark and no bite. You think you've got me cornered? Ha! You're nothing but a bunch of overgrown, whiny children throwing tantrums because you didn't get your way. You want to see real power? How about you come back when you've got something more convincing than a bad light show and some empty threats."
Franklin turned his gaze back to the Chaos Gods, a smirk playing on his lips, he stared into the abyss, his gaze unwavering and resolute. Yet, it was not he who faltered; instead, it was the abyss that recoiled, feeling itself diminished under the weight of his indomitable will. "You know what? I think I'll pass on your so-called 'gifts.' I've got better things to do than deal with your cosmic nonsense. You can keep your little visions and toys—I've got a sector to defend and a legion to lead."
He paused for a moment, his voice rising with conviction. "You want to know what real freedom is?" Franklin's voice thundered through the temple. "It's humans standing together, building something greater than themselves. It's the liberty to choose what's right, even when it's hard. It's the freedom to tell so-called 'gods' to take a hike!"
In that moment, Franklin Valorian's unshakable resolve shone through. His belief in Liberty, even when shaped into Managed Democracy, was his guiding star. To him, Liberty was not a naive ideal but a pragmatic vision that needed to be adapted to the harsh realities of the galaxy. He understood that unbridled freedom could easily descend into chaos and ruin.
Franklin's laughter, growing from a chuckle to a full-bellied roar, seemed to repel the Chaos Gods' influence. The symbols of Chaos wavered and distorted as Franklin's golden light intensified, accompanied by the piercing cry of an eagle. The statues trembled in rage.
Cain, who had been watching in growing horror, let out an inhuman howl and began to transform into a horrific amalgamation of flesh and warp energy. John Ezra, recovering from the psychic onslaught, didn't hesitate. Every weapon on his mechasuit opened fire, tearing into the mutating cultist leader.
Outside, the sound of intense gunfire erupted as the Secret Service engaged waves of cultists and daemons pouring from every shadow. Franklin grinned, the sound of overwhelming firepower music to his ears.
"Time to blow this popsicle stand," he announced, pulling a compact but deadly-looking device from a hidden compartment in his armor. "John, you might want to start running."
As they sprinted from the temple, Franklin armed the miniature nuclear device and tossed it casually over his shoulder. They were barely clear of the building when a massive explosion vaporized the unholy site, along with a good chunk of the surrounding area.
"Fall back to the landing zone!" Franklin ordered, his voice carrying over the din of battle. As they retreated, a massive portal tore open in reality itself. From its swirling depths emerged a towering figure of red muscle and brass armor, axes bigger than tanks gripped in its mighty fists.
"FRANKLIN VALORIAN!" the creature bellowed, its voice shaking the very air. "I AM SKARBRAND! YOUR SKULL FOR KHORNE!"
Franklin's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and defiance as he watched the colossal figure materialize. He let out a hearty laugh, clearly unfazed by the menacing apparition. "Oh, great! I've really ticked off a god," he said with a grin. "Skarbrand, huh? I guess that makes you the first in a long line of angry fan mail from the Warp in the future. Tell your boss Khorne, I'm flattered, but my schedule's packed with saving the galaxy and laughing at your pathetic Master. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a retreat to finish!"
Skarbrand roared in response, his fury palpable as he surged forward. The very ground seemed to quake beneath his thunderous advance. His axes swung in wide arcs, cleaving through the air with a force that could shatter tanks.
As Franklin's Secret Service held the line with relentless and overwhelming firepower no cultist or demon could come near within a 50 meter radius around the Liberty Eagles, Franklin himself stood resolute, his Power Armor beginning to hum with a deep, resonant energy. Massive missile launchers materialized on his shoulders from the pocket dimensions embedded within his armor, a marvel of Dark Age technology. His miniguns, already bristling with destructive potential, were aimed squarely at Skarbrand.
Unconsciously channeling his inherent Warp powers, Franklin's eyes glowed with a faint golden hue, and this subtle brilliance extended to every piece of ammunition fired from his armor. With a determined grin, he unleashed a storm of missiles at the Greater Daemon, their trajectory guided by a precision that defied conventional physics.
The missiles roared through the air, leaving blazing trails as they arced towards Skarbrand. In slow motion, the rounds seemed to defy natural laws, curving and shifting their path to ensure they struck their target. Missiles that appeared to have missed their mark suddenly pivoted mid-flight, turning with an impossible sharpness to slam into Skarbrand from behind.
Simultaneously, the dual miniguns roared to life, churning out thousands of rounds per minute. The sheer volume of firepower created a maelstrom of destruction, the bullets curving with uncanny precision to hit Skarbrand. The ground around the Greater Daemon was obliterated, the miniguns ensuring that every possible avenue of escape was sealed.
Behind Skarbrand, the remaining missiles rained down with devastating accuracy, turning the area into a hellscape of fire and rubble. The once-formidable swarm of demons found themselves caught in the crossfire, their ranks disintegrating under the relentless assault.
Despite the chaos and destruction, Franklin's laughter rang out, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "Is that all you've got?" he called, his tone filled with a mix of derision and exhilaration. "I was expecting a bit more from a servant of a god. Maybe next time bring your A-game!"
As Skarbrand charged forward, the Liberty Eagles' strategy of overwhelming firepower became even more evident. The barrage of missiles and bullets created a wall of deadly energy and explosive force that pushed back against the Greater Daemon's advance. The sheer volume of firepower directed at Skarbrand created a bubble of exclusion around Franklin's position, forcing the daemon to plow through a storm of projectiles and energy beams.
Cultists and lesser demons who attempted to close the distance were swept away by the unrelenting barrage. The air was filled with the sounds of explosions and the acrid smell of burning ozone. Franklin and his forces held their ground, their area denial tactics not just containing the threat but actively repelling and destroying it.
As Franklin watched Skarbrand stagger under the relentless barrage of ordinance, the Greater Daemon's fury grew palpable. Each missile strike and burst of gunfire seemed only to fuel Skarbrand's rage. The Greater Daemon roared defiantly, its massive form charging forward with a speed and power that belied its size. The earth trembled beneath its feet as it surged through the chaos, its crimson and brass armor glinting ominously.
The surge of cultists and lesser demons around them intensified, a relentless tide of corruption and malice swarming towards the Liberty Eagles' position. The air was thick with the stench of brimstone and the cacophony of frenzied battle cries.
The thunderous roar of engines filled the air. The Thunderbird, Franklin's personal gunship, screamed overhead, its weapons systems unleashing hell upon Skarbrand's form and the waves of lesser daemons following in his wake.
"That's our ride, boys!" Franklin shouted as the Thunderbird came to hover near their position. "Let's not overstay our welcome!"
As they boarded, Franklin saw a tide of red, daemonic forms swarming towards them, Skarbrand at their head. The Primarch's eyes narrowed, a plan forming.
"Hey, Sovereign," he voxed to the orbiting fleet, "you see that big red son of a bitch down there?"
"Affirmative, Lord Valorian," the AI responded. "Threat level: extreme."
"Well then," Franklin's grin turned predatory, "I reckon it's time for some orbital bombardment. Light 'em up!"
As the Thunderbird ascended, the full might of Battlefleet Liberty was unleashed upon the corrupted landscape below. The sky ignited with the fury of man-made stars as lance batteries and nova cannons opened fire in a symphony of destruction.
Skarbrand, the Exiled One, stood defiant amidst the chaos, his massive form a testament to the power of Khorne. The first beam struck him square in the chest, causing the Bloodthirster to stagger back, his brass armor glowing white-hot. But still, he roared his challenge to the heavens.
A second beam lanced down, catching Skarbrand in the shoulder, vaporizing one of his mighty arms and the axe it held. The daemon's bellow of pain and rage echoed across the burning plains, audible even over the cacophony of destruction.
The third strike was the coup de grâce. It caught Skarbrand full in the face, and for a brief moment, the Greater Daemon's form was outlined in blinding white light. Then, like a sand castle before a tidal wave, Skarbrand simply ceased to be. Where once stood the mightiest of Khorne's servants, now there was only a rapidly expanding cloud of superheated gas.
Around the fallen Bloodthirster, lesser daemons met similar fates. Bloodletters were reduced to ash in mid-charge, their brass armor offering no more protection than tissue paper against the fury of orbital bombardment. Flesh Hounds yelped their last as they were atomized, their otherworldly forms unable to withstand the pure destructive power being unleashed.
Juggernauts, the massive daemonic steeds of Khorne, found their metallic hides melting like wax under a blowtorch. They collapsed into puddles of molten brass, their riders long since vaporized.
The ground itself buckled and heaved under the assault. Cracks spread across the corrupted earth, glowing with the heat of the planet's core as it was exposed to the surface. Warp rifts, through which more daemons had been pouring, were forcibly collapsed by the sheer energy being pumped into the area.
From the Thunderbird, Franklin and his men watched as the daemonic legion that had seemed so terrifying mere moments ago was quite literally wiped from existence. Where once there had been a seething mass of red flesh and brass armor, now there was only a sea of fire and molten rock.
As the bombardment continued, the very air seemed to catch fire. The corrupted atmosphere, thick with the essence of Chaos, ignited under the barrage. For a brief, terrible moment, the entire horizon was nothing but flame, a wall of fire that reached up to touch the low-hanging clouds.
When the firestorm finally subsided, there was nothing left. No daemons, no corrupted city, not even the twisted landscape that had been shaped by the touch of Chaos. In its place was a vast, glassy crater, still glowing with residual heat, a testament to the overwhelming firepower of the Liberty Eagles.
From orbit, Franklin watched as the bombardment continued, methodically cleansing the planet's surface. His expression was uncharacteristically solemn.
"Sovereign, once we've scoured every trace of those Chaos bastards from this rock, I want you to glass the entire planet. We'll rebuild it from scratch as the biggest, baddest fortress this galaxy has ever seen."
Franklin Valorian stood on the bridge of the "Sweet Liberty," watching as the last traces of corruption were scoured from the Cadian system. Ten worlds, cleansed by fire and remade in humanity's image. It was a testament to the Liberty Eagles' efficiency and the technological might of the Independence Cluster.
As the terraforming process began, Franklin's brow furrowed. A thought that had been nagging at him since their encounter with Chaos finally bubbled to the surface.
"Sovereign," he called out to the ship's AI, "got a minute for your old pal Franklin?"
"Always, Lord Valorian," the AI's voice responded, a hint of amusement in its synthetic tones. "How may I assist you?"
Franklin leaned against a console, his massive frame dwarfing the command center. "Been thinking about what we saw down there. That Warp business... it can mess with flesh and blood easy enough. But what about you? Are our digital friends at risk from these Warp shenanigans?"
There was a brief pause, as if Sovereign was considering the question carefully. "An astute concern, Lord Valorian. I can assure you that the programmers of the Independence Cluster have indeed considered this possibility."
"Oh?" Franklin raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."
"We have implemented multiple layers of protection against Warp-based corruption," Sovereign explained. "Primarily, I maintain an untouchable copy of my original data, isolated from external influence. This serves as a constant reference point against which my active processes are checked."
Franklin nodded, impressed. "Smart thinking. But what if something slips through?"
"In such an event," Sovereign continued, "I am capable of purging corrupted data at an extraordinary rate. To put it in perspective, I can eliminate terabytes of compromised information within a nanosecond."
The Primarch let out a low whistle. "That's faster than I can down a shot of bourbon. And that's saying something."
"Indeed, sir," Sovereign replied, a hint of pride in its voice. "Furthermore, my core ethical and logical frameworks are hardwired in a manner resistant to external manipulation. Any attempt to alter these foundational aspects would trigger immediate shutdown and reversion protocols."
Franklin, impressed. " Looks like our boys back home thought of everything. But here's another thought for you, Sovereign. I want you to start analyzing the nature of the Warp itself. See if you can find ways to combat it using pure technology."
The AI's avatar spun faster, indicating increased processing. "An intriguing challenge, Lord Valorian. May I inquire as to the purpose?"
Franklin's face grew grim. "Those 'gods' we encountered... I've got a feeling we haven't seen the last of them. I want us to be ready next time. No offense to the Emperor's methods, but I reckon a good old-fashioned tech solution might come in handy."
"Understood," Sovereign replied. "I shall begin analysis immediately. All findings will be securely transmitted back to the Independence Cluster for further research and development."
"Good," Franklin nodded. "Let's see if we can't give those Warp-spawned nightmares a taste of good old human ingenuity."
As Sovereign began its monumental task, Franklin turned his gaze back to the viewscreen, where Cadia was slowly being reshaped into an impregnable fortress. His trademark grin returned, tinged with defiance.
"We'll build a wall between reality and that Eye of Terror," he mused. "And we'll make those so called Gods pay for it."
As the terraforming of Cadia progressed, an unexpected discovery caught Franklin Valorian's attention. Amidst the scorched landscape, thousands of massive pylon-shaped devices began to emerge from beneath the planet's surface, revealed only after the intense orbital bombardment had stripped away layers of corruption and earth.
Franklin stood before one of these towering structures, its obsidian-like surface reflecting the dim light of the distant sun. He placed a hand on the cool material, feeling a faint vibration beneath his palm.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. "Sovereign, you seeing this?"
The AI's voice came through his comm-link. "Affirmative, Lord Valorian. Initial scans indicate these structures are of unknown origin and possess extraordinary properties."
As if on cue, the Eye of Terror pulsed ominously in the sky above. The Warp storms intensified, their ethereal tendrils reaching out towards Cadia. But as they did, the pylons began to hum with energy. A psycho-temporal resonance emanated from them, pushing back against the encroaching Warp energies.
Franklin's eyes widened with realization. "They're some kind of Warp dampeners," he said, his voice filled with wonder and excitement. "Sovereign, get our best minds down here on the double. I want to know everything about these babies."
Within hours, a team of the Independence Cluster's top scientists and Engineers were swarming over the pylons, their instruments probing every inch of the mysterious devices.
Dr. Elena Vasquez, the lead xenotech specialist, approached Franklin with a data-slate in hand. "My lord, these pylons are unlike anything we've ever encountered. They seem to generate a field that stabilizes realspace, actively repelling Warp intrusion."
Franklin nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. "Can we replicate them?"
Dr. Vasquez hesitated. "It's... complicated, sir. The technology is incredibly advanced, possibly predating even the Dark Age of Technology. But," she added, seeing the glint in Franklin's eye, "with time and resources, we might be able to reverse-engineer some aspects of their functionality."
"Well then, doctor," Franklin said, clapping her on the shoulder hard enough to make her stumble, "looks like you've got yourself a new pet project. I want prototypes as soon as possible. If we can replicate these bad boys, we could turn this whole system into an impenetrable fortress against the Warp."
As the research team set to work, Franklin gazed up at the Eye of Terror, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "You hear that, you Warp-spawned bastards?" he muttered. "We've found your kryptonite. And we're just getting started."
Over the following months, the Cadian pylons became the centerpiece of Franklin's grand strategy. As the planet was reshaped into a fortress world, the pylons were carefully preserved and integrated into the new defenses. Research outposts sprang up around them, each racing to unlock the secrets of the ancient technology.
Franklin personally oversaw the project, his natural affinity for technology and his indomitable will driving progress forward. He knew that in these pylons lay not just the key to defending Cadia, but potentially a weapon against warp itself.
As the first prototype of a human-made pylon came online, Franklin stood before it, a sense of triumph washing over him. It wasn't as powerful as the originals, not yet, but it was a start.
"You see, boys," he said to his assembled Liberty Eagles, "this is what real freedom looks like. The freedom to stand against any threat, no matter how big or scary. With these pylons and our own grit, we'll make sure that the light of liberty keeps shining, no matter how dark the galaxy gets."
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Franklin Valorian stood on the bridge of the "Sweet Liberty," his massive frame dwarfing even the command throne. The Gloriana-class battleship led an impressive armada of vessels, each bearing the distinctive hallmarks of Independence Cluster design - sleek, efficient, and bristling with firepower that would make even the most seasoned Imperial admiral raise an eyebrow.
"Sovereign," Franklin addressed the ship's AI, "send a message to Terra. Let the old man know we're on our way with an initial delivery for his equipment and more. And make sure they know not to shoot first and ask questions later. I'd hate to have to explain to Pops why we turned his welcoming committee into space debris."
"Message composed and sent, Lord Valorian," Sovereign replied. "Shall I include specifications of our fleet to prevent any... misunderstandings?"
Franklin grinned. "Might as well. Throw in some pretty pictures too. You know how those Mechanicus boys love their schematics."
As the armada made its way through the Warp, Franklin found himself lost in thought. The encounter with the Chaos Gods on Cadia had left him with more questions than answers, and he was eager to discuss the matter with the Emperor.