This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
Ten weeks had passed since the events at Proticou.
The fortress monastery of the Crimson Fists chapter was built high up within the mountains of Ryan's World. Inside the monastery Grailin stood alone, within the centre of the Chapter Master's throne room. He stood attired only in crimson sackcloth, looking up at the beautiful images of the angels pasted within the pillars that reached high up to the long ceiling above. The floor that Grailin stood upon was made of pure marble, stained with the colour of black.
Whilst Grailin stood alone waiting for the Chapter Master Pedro Kantor to give him his penitence, all one hundred and twenty eight Marines of the First Company stood together in full battle armour, looking on at him. The atmosphere was some what quiet. if a pin were to drop it would be heard throughout the entire throne room.
Grailin looked up at the sound of armoured feet marching from the other-sized doorway at the far wall's centre. Although his head remained tilted down he watched Chaplain Quornas enter, clad in black armour and carrying his Crozius with one hand. His helmet was moulded like that of a human skull, with red beady eyes glowing in the low light. Behind Quornas entered the chapter's Chief of librarians. Both men stood at either side of Pedro's throne.
Then a third figure emerged from the darkness of the doorway, adorned only in crimson sackcloth from his hood to his feet.
Grailin turned towards the throne, watching the figure sit within the golden chair.
There was more ghostly silence for a few more moments.
Then: "Grailin, do you understand why you have been convened here before me?" the man asked.
Grailin raised his head, but only slightly.
"I do, Chapter Master," came his whispered reply.
"Good, then I shall begin," started the Chapter Master.
"You have been brought here before me for the disgrace you have brought upon the chapter." Pedro began to rest both of his hands on each of the golden throne's arm rests.
"It is because of your ignorance of informing me that one of the greatest Captains this chapter has ever had had become stressed with visions of this demonic sphere, which has now led to his death."
"He is not dead," Grailin said, interrupting.
Pedro rose up to his feet.
"As far as we are concerned he is dead. Because of you. We have an entire fleet of Grey Knights orbiting Ryan's world to ensure we do not leave while the Inquisition investigates US."
Grailin stepped back slightly.
"They are even investigating our gene-banks. Not to forget you were returned to me in shackles. We, who are amongst the loyalest within the Imperium, have now been disgraced."
Grailin bowed his head once more. "I am prepared to accept my penitence."
Pedro stepped down from the throne and closer towards Grailin. "It is not that simple. Because of your actions I have lost the entire fifth company, including the battle cruiser Forge Hand and the company captain." Turning his back to Grailin, Pedro began walking back to the throne.
"I have spoken with the Librarians and Librarian Master of Librarian's. It is their decision that you are no longer worthy to wear the light blue armour that they represent. Thus your armour will be painted the traditional dark blue of the chapter." Pedro sat back in his throne, resting his arms again on the arm rests. "Because of this disgrace the only punishment left to give is exile."
Grailin looked up. "I understand, Chapter Master."
"You will atone for what you have done. But it will be alone. I task you with an oath, and that oath is you will fight in the name of the Crimson Fist chapter until the day you are killed or die. Therefore, it is my decision that you may keep the chapter markings. But only so that you will be recognised."
"Your word is law, Chapter Master," Grailin said in an almost silent whisper.
"Understand me when I say this to you Grailin: You will never be allowed to return here to Ryan's world. As of now you are an outcast."
The whole of the throne room echoed from the Crimson Fists First Company turning their backs to Grailin.
Quornas walked over to Grailin, then began to escort him from the fortress monastery. Once both men were clear of the throne room Quornas removed his helmet. Grailin looked into the eyes of the old veteran.
"If by any chance you find Syakotus, and he has good in his heart, maybe you can guide him. I do not know how this tragedy has befallen him."
"We Work In The Dark. We Do What We Can To Battle The Monsters That Would Otherwise Destroy Us... Yet Sometimes the Weight of This Burden Causes Us to Bend and Falter, Allowing Evil To Breach The Fragile Fortress Of Our Mind. Allowing the Monsters Without To Turn Within. And We Are Left alone, staring into the Abyss... into The Laughing Face of Madness," Grailin said, looking back at the long and narrow face of Quornas.
"Though I understand your words that Syakotus may have faltered, I do not believe him a heretic," finished Quornas, before turning his back to Grailin.
"You may take one of the gun cutters," he said, walking away.
Etheane stood motionlessly. There was nothing but total darkness surrounding him and his prisoner, who sat strapped down on a chrome chair. Etheane was adorned in only black sackcloth, wearing a hood that drooped down, cover all of his face from sight.
The prisoner was clad in dark blue ceramite armour, except that one pf his hands was coloured in crimson.
"Where are you from?" asked Etheane, slowly circling the chair.
"I do not know," answered the prisoner.
"How did you get here?"
"I do not know."
"What are you?"
"I do not understand your question."
Etheane stopped circling the chair. "The question is simple. What are you?" he asked again.
The prisoner looked up. "I do not understand your question," he said once more.
"The question is rhetorical. Are you human?"
"I do not know. If my appearance looks human then I guess that I am Human."
"Who made you what you are today? What paths led to you being here before me at this point in time?"
The prisoner looked up at Etheane.
"I...I cannot remember," he answered.
"Do you have any memories?"
"Memories, what are they?"
Etheane began to slowly walk away from his prisoner. "A memory is something from your past. Something historical to you. A place or a time that you see."
"Then I have none."
Etheane left the darkness, leaving the prisoner alone.
Moments later Krupeus entered the darkness of the room, holding a tall staff that helped him to walk. The prisoner watched Krupeus approach from what he could see within the darkness of the room.
Krupeus stood over the prisoner watching him sit motionlessly.
"What is your name?" he asked, watching the prisoner's expressionless face.
"I...do not know," he replied.
Krupeus bent over, looking directly into his face.
"I will tell you your name. Your name is Syakotus. And you were once from the Crimson Fists."
Syakotus looked up, his face still remained expressionless.
"Do you know why you are here?" Krupeus asked, stepping back.
"I do not."
"You are here because you were possessed. But you are not any more," Krupeus explained whilst he unstrapped Syakotus from the chair.
"What happened to make me this way? Why am I no longer possessed?"
"There are some things that I cannot answer."
"What will I do now?"
"You are free to go."
"Go where?"
"You have one last journey to take."
"I...do not understand."
"You will."
Syakotus closed his eye, trying hard to remember something, yet nothing.
"Some of your memories will return to you in time," Krupeus said, turning away from Syakotus to leave.
Syakotus watched Krupeus as he began to disappear from his sight.
"Who are you?" he then asked.
Krupeus turned to answer. "You do not need to know my name. What I will tell you is that, like you, I am cursed."
Krupeus turned away from Syakotus, and began to leave, but stopped.
"I lead the damned," he replied.
The only things that remained of Proticou was the asteroid field that was once the planet. All trace of Proticou had been expunged, as had that of the events of what had happened on Proticou.
Across the darkness of the universe the stars seemed to shine that much more brightly. It was almost as though the stars themselves were mourning the loss of heroes who had given their lives.
Hive World Terra