[center][color=f7941d][h1][u][b]Visions of Dusk[/b][/u][/h1][/color] -Enroute to the Jade Palace- [hr] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9Y8NjXt.jpeg[/img][/center] [hr] The interior of the Dunesong, a Raider assault tank, rumbled around me. Eleven other of my brothers were seated around , their bronze-black armored bodies held by tight restraints. Each was a member of my personal retinue, warriors that had seen everything from their smallest skirmish to the Siege of Ouran. Their warplate was decorated with trinkets, chains, and other baubles that were rightfully won, as was their right. They are my Black Blades, noted by their sword-like sigils on their livery and their obsidian powerswords of Nabatae. Zameel would be among them were it not for our Legion growing so rapidly. My eyes scanned the display reflecting from my helmet. A consistent auspex ping allowed me to see everything nearby the Dunesong. My status as Legion Master, however, allowed access to the command auger. I would never cease to grow prideful at the size of the Thirteenth, our numbers rising beyond several thousand active Scorpions. My Legion easily made up the bulk of Astartes enroute to the Jade Palace of Hongol; however, I’ve noticed several other legions beginning to grow quickly. I was certain that there would be a time they rivaled our current strength or surpassed it as the First did. The battlegroup outside of our Raider was visible to me. Hundreds of vehicles made a powerful convoy over what used to be Terra's Eurasian continent. I already knew most of the Astartes vehicles were manned by the Thirteenth, though I was aware that most of the newly acquired tanks had been gifted to the Third. In particular, I felt that the superheavy was squandered. Newblood with a powerful vehicle. A chronometer at the top left of my view confirmed our estimated time of arrival. Fifteen hours until the Imperial Army would arrive on the outskirts of the Jade Palace. Everything from our current point to the fringe territory of Narthan Dume was the work of the newbloods. My Astartes were tasked for a different role and were allowed some amount of time to rest. It infuriated me. There was much more that we could be contributing to right now. My Scorpions could’ve been deployed by Stormbird, dropped behind the enemy lines, and infiltrating their command bunkers. The Thirteenth could’ve laid the foundations for the invasion of the Jade Palace, scouting forward and butchering the opponent before they’d notice. Our Astartes would’ve been able to fling the gates of Hongol open, welcoming our comrades with blood soaked claws and ichor drenched blades. We were told to simply wait, by order of the Sigilite. I felt my indoctrination and augmentations kicking in, dampening the emotions that I should’ve felt. It was a raw feeling, knowing what I should be experiencing and then observing my body repulse it. I wasn’t surprised, my humanity had always fought through the augmentations even when I became the first to accept the Thirteenth’s geneseed. A day that I’d never forget for as long as I lived. My anger and frustration was replaced with serenity and clairvoyance. I was one of His finest weapons - a Space Marine - such thoughts were beyond my station. I relaxed into my restraints, though externally my body barely moved. Mental exhaustion had built up in my mind as a foul plague. It required purging. +’[b]Artoris[/b].’+ I spoke into a private vox, garnering the attention of my lieutenant. A hooded helmet with a laurel beneath turned towards me, crimson lenses catching my own gaze. We shared a look, myriad words passing between us in wordless dialogue. +’Understood, Legion Master.’+ Artoris responded in private, returning his gaze back to the Raider’s hull. He was a warrior of some humor. I was glad that he decided against the joke that bubbled up in his gullet. I closed my eyes for the first time in several weeks, passing nearly into the next month. I steepled my armored fingers together in a loose clasp. My breathing slowed to a dangerous rate for a mortal. Both of my hearts started to beat lower and lower as I engaged one of my many augments. It was one of the few things that I found only the Thirteenth could harness. With a thought, my organs adjusted as one of my augmentations deactivated, allowing another to activate in its place. My body lightly shuddered beneath the power armor as I felt the fatigue of several campaigns suddenly wash over my mind. Fresh hormones spilled into my system to account for the adjustment. It mattered little as I entered a period of mental hibernation. And I found myself in the deserts that I had dreamed of since the moment of my rebirth. The sky was an endless dusk that crossed the horizon, sparsely interrupted by storming clouds and whirlwinds of sand. The warmth of an arid land washed over his body in bliss. It reminded me of my home before I had travelled to the Himalazians to serve the Master of the Line. Yet, this place was different. The sand was as black as charcoal with a texture closer to ash than sedimentary grit. My body felt light as a feather. The air tasted humid with chemicals unknown, though it smelled vaguely of cinnamon and salt. The mixture was acrid in my nose, but it was a comforting scent. I could see pools of black-green, sparkling liquid nearby where I would’ve expected oases of tainted water. Unseen things slithered by, ethereal as ghosts and as dark as obsidian. Overhead, I could see stars shining through a distance belt of asteroids and debris. Between myself and the space beyond were hovering structures that clung to the sky on technology unknown to me. They wouldn’t have appeared out of place in the Achaemenid Empire, save for engines that kept them afloat. Gigantic rocks, arcing with purple electricity sporadically hung in the sky as if tossed by a demigod's invisible hand. It was a beautiful place, one that I had spent a lot of time envisioning. Even on the battlefield, I saw visions of this desert beneath my eyes. The pleasure of witnessing such a wonderful landscape was not my reason for coming here. Something else drew me here to teach me another lesson in a tongue unknown. A language that I heard, spoke, and referenced frequently, yet I had never been able to fully comprehend it. It was a wonderful, flowery language that came off raspy on the tongues of the speakers. I had found myself tempted to speak with the Sigilite on it, but I determined whatever was happening was within the realm of possibilities that Malcador had seen. A being entered my view, clad in a shroud of midnight hue and a bodyglove that looked closer to powered armor. A pair of orange eyes with serpentine slits poked out beneath a hood. A strange respirator covered their mouth, tubes sinking down into the suit attached to their body. I determined it was some kind of recycling system. A strange, long-barreled weapon with a large, spherical capacitor was carried in both of their hands. Another piece of wargear swayed at their hip, a blade that curved twice-over in a scale-patterned sheath. A sense of recognition passed over me. It was an emotion that no longer surprised me in this environment for my body was not truly my own. I watched this world through the eyes of another. Whoever I watched through, I had long ago reasoned that they were extraordinarily tall. They towered over the oncoming figure, who seemed the correct size for a baseline human. I decided that this being that I observed from was even larger than an Astartes. The figure grew closer and I realized that they were, once again, human beneath the shroud. My hand moved out, linking arms with the person who approached. Kinship. I felt it as a raw emotion. Whoever this person was, they were either a close friend, a comrade, or a family member. I mulled over the emotion and lingered closer on a family member. They spoke at a speed natural for their tongue. It dizzied me hearing their speech patterns, but I caught some words that had been repeated in previous visions. Sands, serpents, houses, lakes, oceans. They were often mentioned with a numerical value to them, but I hadn’t fully learned what that meant. The feeling of having said them brought an emotion that spoke of friendship, joy, and slyness. Once again, I had yet to learn the names of anything here. It was as if the visions blocked out the words intentionally. The two separated after a short embrace, running off into the black sands of the strange world. I was infinitely faster and stronger than the other one, however I felt that my host intentionally slowed themselves for their comrade. My vision turned to the person behind me, now joined by others in the same attire. I waved a hand to them, fingertips wrapped in thin metallic claws from the knuckle down. My form bent over in a swift bow before falling backwards off of a ledge. My body automatically prepared to react to the oncoming vertigo of freefall; however, it never came. My host sailed through the air. I had long ago learned that gravity didn’t flow the same here as it did on Terra. A canyon of streaming sand and floating rock met my view as I fell. Those that followed behind me dived down towards the ground with practiced skill. It was if they had done it a thousand times over and will continue to do so. [color=f7941d]A thousand and one grains of black sand[/color] crunched beneath my boots as I raced across the canyon. I sprinted oddly with my form slightly hunched and my limbs outstretched. Whatever the reason, I realized it allowed my host to maneuver better in this strange atmosphere. I further understood that I was hunting. My body was tensing, adrenaline shot through my nerves, and excitement funneled into my mind. The hunt was on and my host was hungry. Time seemed to flow strangely in these visions. I had grown used to bouncing between different scenes in these visions; however, this was not one of those periods. My body moved faster than a human, faster than an Astartes, and faster than any vehicle that I had seen. Raamiz had once described the sensation of his abilities to me. It perfectly complemented exactly how I felt, moving as swift and suddenly as lightning. My host had evidently forgotten about our comrades. The object of my hunt appeared out of black sands some three hundred meters away. It was a pitch black serpent with shining scales and an ethereal appearance to it. It gave me the impression of a giant snake or eel from Terra’s older histories. The creature had frills with charcoal membranes that coursed along its spine. It had orange, slitted eyes just like the other inhabitants of this place. These serpents I had seen before and wondered to this day if the two were linked. I did not wait long for the thing to appear before attacking it. My mouth moved to speak words, yet I could hear nothing come of it. It soon dawned on me why that was as the serpent refused to move, seemingly hanging in the air by unseen strings. My host had commanded it to stop in a strange language or by using the wyrd. My talon-tipped fingers pierced the scales of the creature, tearing the heart out in a single swipe. I had pooled my strength into a single point and thrusted, stabbing through even the hardest substance in this world. My strength astounded me. It was only a fraction of what we could do. I caught the carcass of the serpent in my hand as it fell limp from the sky. As if it were cut from those same unseen strings. Our comrades arrived soon after, hooting and hollering in a tongue that I had grown fond of. My body moved to embrace these warriors, exchanging a sensation of victory and celebration for a successful hunt. The emotions elicited a warm reaction in my body. This type of comradery would be worthy of the Bronze Scorpions. Perhaps they had already seen this scene before just as I had experienced the same visions. My vision swam as the black sands, strange warriors, and serpentine carcass disappeared into darkness. I understood quickly that another place would soon form, a different type of illusion conjuring from the unknown. These were things that happened frequently in my hibernation, yet I had become accustomed to the sickening sensation of the transition. Pinholes of light began to expand at the corners of my vision, enlightening a new scene for me to witness. The black sands of the yonder world were gone, replaced by austere walls that lightly crackled with dormant lightning. Stone tiles, carefully cut and engraved with desert motif, replaced the ground beneath my feet. Glowglobes as ancient as the vessels that sailed the Great Ocean illuminated the interior overhead. Statues of serpents, skull-faced warriors, and other unknown caricatures stood vigilant at the corners of this wide room. I realized that grains of sand still remained, yet they were scattered with infinite care. The taste of the air was sterile, the smell of strange machines lingered, and a faint coarseness rubbed against my skin. I didn’t have time to fully investigate my surroundings as I evaded an attack. It was a strike meant to decapitate, yet my body moved in a practised manner. Before I could register the attacker, my host moved in a strange, peculiar dance that felt natural. A training sword of feeble metal sliced out from my hand, testing the attacker’s defenses before I lashed out with my other hand. The speed, the strength, and the ease of switching stances reminded me of another clade of warriors. It felt like I was attempting to copy the guardians of the Emperor, yet each attack was exaggerated greatly by my host’s latent abilities. The attacker reared back like a viper ready to bite. They emitted an aura of wisdom, strength, and patience that I had only seen in men like the Sigilite. A skull shaped mask fully covered the man’s facial features, a dark hood pulled over his head to complete a macabre look. They wore simple robes of the same fabric I had seen before, though they wielded a simple metal cane against my host. As I squared off with the robed man, I felt my host’s emotions vividly as if they were a tempest of the strange liquid outside. It was a feeling that I had not felt in many, many years. Storge. Familial love. The robed warrior was either a parent or a grandparent of my host as far as I could understand. I felt my lips spread in a toothy grin as I plunged back into the fray with the metal implement in my left hand. I could tell that the man was disappointed, but my host had a plan. At the last second, I twisted my body in an unnatural way with the practice weapon swinging low and then upwards. It felt slow as I watched it, yet it was as quick as a bolt of lightning. The man had anticipated as much, deflecting my armament before I swiped the cane from him with my right hand. I felt my body begin to cackle in response to victory, yet I knew that we had yet to win. My thoughts were answered as the old man entered a strange, focused stance with his bare hands outstretched. Between both of our eyes, neither of us could track the old man’s movement as he exploded forward on [color=f7941d]a thousand and one grains of black sand[/color]. An elbow connected with my chin, a knee against my lower thigh, and a palm against my sternum sent me flying backwards. The air was knocked from my enhanced lungs, depleting what I had previously thought was limitless. The old man corrected my assumptions as he stared down at me with glowing, azure eyes. One of his hands reached out and I accepted. My mouth moved once more as I spoke. The old man’s mask tilted up and down slightly as he responded to my host. It felt as if the skull was a permanent fixture against his skin. We shared words though I could not understand them. The message, however, was clear to me. Underestimating an opponent that one has faced a thousand times was akin to death. Swiftness is nothing without power. A battle can change in a single instant. Never believe you are more intelligent than your enemy. All of these feelings passed through me as we spoke with the old man. It felt as if I spoke with the Sigilite himself. It left me with a strange sensation as we parted away from the elder. I parted away from the old man, bringing myself into a bow. The elder responded in kind as the scene began to disappear once more. I felt the shudder of reality course through my form. It felt like a thousand stitches were pulled from my wounds as darkness entered my vision. This sensation was different from the others and I knew that my time in this place was over. They were never finite in their appearances, sometimes conjured up in the middle of a battle or while sneaking to an objective. These visions, however, were weapons just as I am. I felt no shame in using what I learned from these apparitions nor did I fail to impart them on my warriors. We all suffered the same specters, some more lucid than others. It ended all the same though. Darkness consumed my sight in a shroud that my superhuman senses could not penetrate. As reality welcomed me back from hibernation, I caught the scent of cinnamon and ozone. Same as before, I casted my gaze back down into the depths that rushed up to claim me. Thirteen eyes of orange with serpentine pupils stared back. I felt the impossibility of fear for a single second before I shuddered awake. My breathing returned to normal, my hearts steadying back into standard rhythm, and my eyes adjusted to the light pouring in from the Dunesong. I felt my insides shift as my biology adapted to the realm of wakefulness. My talon-tipped fingers uncoupled from their steeple and returned to their standard resting place by my sides. Years seemed to have passed within my unconsciousness, but my chronometer confirmed that two hours had passed in total. It was an invigorating experience brought low by the actual passage of time. I scowled beneath my helmet. It brought the attention of Artoris. +’Excellent timing, Zaid, we just happened to receive new orders from Imperial Command.’+ The younger warrior replied. I could hear the toothy grin that had already formed on his lips. Something akin to irritation threatened to rise up from within, yet my augments stalled the emotion from fully taking form. Our emotions are a distraction, one that I was thankful to be rid of in some moments. +’I am already aware, lieutenant.’+ I responded as I watched the orders repeat themselves over and over across my helmet’s display. The words had slipped into my mind as I had started to wake from my hibernation. What they were ordered to comply with was a welcome distraction from the rest they were forced upon. We were His weapons. We did not require rest. I switched my vox frequency with a blink, transferring instantly from private to interlegionary. +’The Sigilite has rescinded his task, Scorpions, we are no longer to serve as serpents beneath the sand tides. Captains prepare for datapacket transfer. Sergeants begin your squad tally. The Pacificans call for their doom on [b]Macroway 80[/b]. [b]We shall deliver death[/b].’+ I said through the vox, pride filtering through my helmet to the ears of the listener. [color=f7941d]A thousand and one blink-acknowledgements[/color] confirmed that my orders were received. Regardless, the Battlegroup Pacifica was still several hours out from our destination. A new noise turned my attention back to Artoris. “What did you dream of?” The lieutenant asked outside of the private vox. It was an intentional action. He was too smart for his own good. It was why I made him lieutenant over others of the Black Blades. I felt a toothy grin begin to take root over my lips. I leaned forward and my brothers echoed the movement to listen. “[color=f7941d][i]On a strange world, I danced across black sands as a warden of dusk…[/i][/color]”