[center][h1][u][b]The Field of Fates[/b][/u][/h1]
-After the Meeting with the Emperor-[/center]
[hr]
Primarch Aeternus grimly observed the fields of the Urshic North. Whatever had remained of the rustic beauty that was Terra’s eurasian continent was now a vast, bloody battleground. Trenches had been dug from the Xeric Tribes to the south and from the fallen city of Sanctii to the west. More were being dug to the east, fortified by those that hadn’t engaged in the siege of Hongol. Each was like a pulsing vein, filled to the brim with vitae as red as freshly spilled ichor. It was a suitable analogy for the ever-expanding body that was His Imperium.

The Fortress of Bastion lay several days behind him, yet it still loomed over him like a wary guardian. Aeternus knew for certain that He was still there. Fighting some secret battle unknown to him, or mustering the Custodes for a valiant push on Kalagann. It mattered little to the Thunder Primarch. His purpose was to pave the way with the Legio Cataegis.

With what little remained of us, he thought. He turned his attention away from the fields to the Thunder Legions. It had been nearly a century since they last fought across Terra as a single mass. By decree of the Emperor, they had all flocked to Ursh to push Unification where the Legio Astartes and the Excertus Imperialis could not. The words of his king rang through his mind as Aeternus witnessed the last vestiges of a forgotten age. [b]I cannot achieve our great purpose without regret and sacrifice[/b], the Emperor had said. How true those words were as Ursh awaited them.

Their forward outpost was ramshackle at worst and adequately fortified at best; however, the raw number of genewarriors easily offset the inadequacies. A behemoth horde of armored transports formed a superfluous ring around the encampment. Each was decorated and honored in the campaign colors of the twenty Legio Cataegis. Their numbers ran rampant around the camp in varying hues, yet the Raptor remained evident on all of their plated forms. It would be their final push against Kalagann’s fortress. [b]The Spearhead of Unification[/b].

Urshic wind threatened to chill his eyes as he picked out each of the Cataegis hundreds of meters below him. He’d never forget their colors or their names for as long as he lived. The green warriors of the Second – the [b]Verdant Raiders[/b]. The teal giants of the Third – the [b]Storm Blades[/b]. The dour titans of the Fourth – the [b]Steel Lords[/b]. The half-plated black-red knights of the Fifth – the [b]Annihilators[/b]. The blue behemoths of the Sixth – the [b]Cobalt Phantoms[/b]. The dusken raiders of the Seventh – the [b]Ashen Marauders[/b]. The valiant lancers of the Eighth – the [b]Titan Scythes[/b]. The duelists of the Ninth – the [b]Dawnhunters[/b]. The barbarians of the Tenth – the [b]Infernal Phoenixes[/b]. Though they were considerably less compared to a hundred years ago, the Legio Cataegis stood strong.

His vision switched to the other side of the campus. Fresh hues from arriving Thunder Warriors caught his attention. The white phantoms of the Eleventh – the [b]Raptor’s Claws[/b]. The dark knights of the Twelfth – the [b]Umbra Paladins[/b]. The midnight clad of the Thirteenth – the [b]Obsidian Crows[/b]. The marauders of the Fourteenth – the [b]Tempest Callers[/b]. The crimson hounds of the Fifteenth – the [b]Caged Dogs[/b]. The lilac praetors of the Sixteenth – the [b]Amethyst Tridents[/b]. The sullen giants of the Seventeenth – the [b]Emperor’s Axes[/b]. The berserkers of the Eighteenth – the [b]Nightbringers[/b]. The maroon blades of the Nineteenth – the [b]Red Knights[/b]. The laughing storms of the Twentieth – the [b]Radiant Spears[/b]. Seeing their numbers arrive at the eleventh hour brought pride to his soul.

What troubled him more than their vastly reduced size, however, was the lack of their Primarchs. He could feel their absence keenly as if a thread had been snipped from a quilted canvas. Reports between the Legio Cataegis had been few and far between. Their losses had not been conveyed in the Logio reports. [i]Possibly by design[/i], Aeternus ruminated as different silhouettes began to coalesce in the encampments. To simply label them as shadows was a stain on their image, yet their presence was anticipated. The Custodes, plated in the fresh gold of the Terrawatt’s finest materials, strode through the war camp with watchful eyes. A small number of the more mortal Sigilites accompanied them, no doubt acting on behalf of Malcador.

The remainder of the encampment were those Excertus Imperialis regiments that had warred alongside the Cataegis. They were the earliest of His warriors, simple genesoldiers that paled in comparison to the Cataegis, Custodes, and Astartes. Each had a place, though, for their pride wasn’t in strength but discipline and virtue. Aeternus recalled with a smile that Malcador placed heavy emphasis on the human part of humanity. 

All their leaders and representatives would eventually come to him soon. A structure – the only stable one present – rose up behind him as a pillar of strength. It was a tower, possibly once a smaller spire from a hive long forgotten. A squat, flat-topped fortress with a parapet roof. Inside of it, he had instructed the interior to be furnished with hololiths and glowglobes for the planning phase. The First Primarch knew it had been completed hours ago, yet his attention was drawn to the largest gathering of Cataegis in a hundred years. None could fault him, save for one soul that preyed upon him with predatory eyes.

The Black Hawk had been circling for what seemed to be ages, only occasionally joined by another of her cadre. For all the time that her form had been circling, Aeternus understood that the Custodian had been glaring at him. They had not seen each other in some time now. 

Not since the fall of Sanctii had the two spoken. Not since the fall of Sanctii had Amalasuntha pressed the Cataegis about their gene-flaws. Her absence, while a relief for some, could have been taken as the Emperor trending towards the dismissal of this outdated and unstable force. Yet now, there she was, that dreaded black form that continued to hold to the old colors of the Custodians - she had been watching for hours.

There was some time before inevitably, the Emperor’s old enforcer descended to meet Aeternus. She landed close, the roar of her jump pack dying to low hum as her eyes looked over the encampment of Thunder Warriors just as he did. Amalasuntha was characteristically silent, but hate no longer radiated from her form - he could see it in her body language. Instead, where once there was hate for the view of the Cataegis, there was a subtle [i]pity[/i].

“It reminds me of the old days,” Aeternus spoke as if Amalasuntha had been there the entire time. After all the time that had elapsed, the First Primarch still felt a warmth around the cold Black Hawk. He didn’t turn his unhelmeted head to regard her, but Rex shifted his stance to welcome her presence. Apocrypha, the former greatsword of Akkad’s Great King, shuffled on his back, just as his helmet rattled by his waist.

“Back when we descended from our Master’s keep on the Lines, down into the Himalazian Tribes and into Akkad. The Thunder Warriors were plentiful then. About as many as there are Astartes now,” the Thunder Primarch reminisced, closing his eyes to witness the scene within. If much had changed with the famed Black Hawk, then so too had the Godslayer. He replied with a light heart, having accepted the fate bestowed upon him. Aeternus knew how he would die and allowed it.

“You were different then, Amalasuntha, much more ready to lop my head off then listen to me prattle about our most glorious days,” he concluded with a short, ugly smirk.

The Hawk craned her head, slightly, taking in the words of the honoured Primarch before allowing a single forced huff. It was an insincere laugh towards Aeternus’ notion of how she was before [i]everything[/i]. She adjusted her stance, remarking, “It was a unique age. Far more blood was shed in those early days, imperfection could not be forgiven when His plan was at its most tumultuous.”

Amalasuntha, too, seemed to become lost in remembrance before fully tuning to the Emperor’s last Primarch. The Custodian’s hands moved and she took off her helm, allowing the wisps of her dark hair to flow with the passing winds. Scars marred a single side of her face, scars Aeternus would never know the cause of despite the history together. She stared deeply into the Godslayer, a blank expression upon her face.

“Alas, our purposes always change, Aeternus,” she spoke with an uncharacteristic softness.

He regarded her. It’d been the first time that he’d ever graced the Black Hawk with anything more than admiration as a companion of the Emperor or judgement as an executioner of the Cataegis. The Primarch recognized it as fondness. The emotion that Rex felt made him believe that perhaps, in a different lifetime, they could’ve been friends or something more. Their purposes, however, led them down a path paved only by Him. That was the correct path. The only destination for those such as them.

“There will be more bloodshed in the future for certain. Our purpose changes, Amalasuntha, but our [b]dutie[/b]s remain.” He responded, appreciating the manner with which the Black Hawk had changed. The Primarch couldn’t imagine what hell she had been through to achieve such a transformation.

“I spoke with Him at the Fortress of Bastion.  Everything that I had suspected to be true was correct. Perhaps He had anticipated as such when He crafted me. I cannot claim to fully know His will. We were crafted to die, Amalasuntha, not from the battlefield but from within. Except for His [i]Godslayer[/i],” Aeternus replied, his purpose lingering on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t doubt that the Custodes already knew of the fate of the Cataegis. “I will watch the last of my brethren die before I eventually perish. That is the fate that the Emperor has made for me.”

Amalasuntha was silent for a few moments, her blank stare barely shifting to an emotion none could understand - especially not even Aeternus. There was more that could be said in the matter, more that should be said. However, she knew it was not her place to speak of the nature of the fate of the Thunder Warriors. Her dark form looked back to the Cataegis that they had been watching over. The Black Hawk saw each and every of the remaining Godslayers, seeing how little truly stood by this point. Her breath pierced the cold air.

“You will be the last of them to die, Aeternus. Not just of their gene-sires, but of the Thunder Warriors as an entity. Your death will come in battle just as your progeny and it shall be a most glorious death… in His name,” Amalasuntha said, proceeding to look past the gathering of the Cataegis and onto the horizon - onto war.

The Primarch of the First Legion followed her gaze out into the fields of Ursh. Even from their standing point, the pair could see the tips of the spires of Kalagann’s Fortress as it scrapped the skies. Dark, elongated fingers of twisted, black metal that carved reality as much as it did cloud and cumulus. Chaos reigned beyond the looming towers in the trenches, where skirmishes with monstrosities were out of their sight. The visceral war that was waged beckoned to him, stirring his blood as much as it did his heart. He was calmed by the presence of the Legio Cataegis in their entirety and the Black Hawk simultaneously.

“A glorious death it’ll be. Hopefully with an enemy that is befitting.” Aeternus responded with a grim smile, his scars stretching as his lips curled. Her words warmed him, despite their morbid insinuations. He’d had time to think of such a foe, yet each time it brought him back to warriors such as the Black Hawk, Valdor, or Aristagorus.

“The Godslayers will lead the charge on Kalagann’s Fortress. A final push to victory. One last enemy before Unity. The Thunder Warriors will be a cracked spear to their black heart. [b]It is His will[/b],” the Lord of the First announced. The plan had previously been discussed in the confines of the Bastion just prior to departure. None truly knew besides himself that he’d granted this last honor to the First Legio. A final, selfish wish that would assure their victory. 

The Primarch’s gaze returned to her. He held a black gauntlet out to Amalasuntha. It was a first for them both. Neither had deigned to offer the other this type of comradery. To the Custodes, he’d imagine it was barbaric to associate as such with his warriors. He cared little for the stigmata now more than ever. If he is fated to die, then he shall do so alongside those he has trusted for a century.

The Black Hawk’s eyes looked down at the hand, almost calculating as to whether she should embrace the gesture. Her eyes seemed to dart between his hand and his face before, in the end, turning her face away and gently pushing the hand back towards Aeternus. For her, it was not a question of whether the Slayer of Gods had earned it, but that she could not afford to allow him the attachment. Without hesitation, Amalasuntha would, instead, unbuckle the small blade that all Custodians held. She held out her misericordia, nought but a knife to the form of Aeternus.

“Save your gesture for when the true time to die has come, Aeternus. Only then shall you receive it. Take my misericordia as promise  for the time being, so that I will be reminded to uphold that promise when the time comes,” she said, for once offering a small smile to the Primarch of the First Legio. To the Primarch, it was sunlight on a dark day. It had been the first and only time that he had seen a smile so genuine of his companion.

“Then it shall be so,” Aeternus said with gratitude, claiming the misericordia in his open palm. The Godslayer removed his silvered dagger from it's sheath, replacing it with Amalasuntha’s prized blade. The dagger, wielded now in his free palm, was cursed with the fate of unfathomable amounts of Thunder Warriors. He offered it now to the Black Hawk. He continued to speak, “but you will not escape without an equal parting gift.”

“It is the very same that I've used since our early years. The one that has seen the beginning and will see the end of the Cataegis. It has exacted mercy on all of my fallen Godslayers. I will no longer require it, but it will be a good replacement for your misericordia.” The Primarch of the First explained. There was more that could be said about the dagger and more about it's particular purpose. He could've mentioned her the meaning of granting it to their self-imposed executioner-turned-arbiter. Rex revealed none of this. 

“Then so it shall be,” Amalasuntha noted with a small nod, allowing the unnatural smile to quickly fade as she placed the dagger where her misericordia had been. The custodian turned on her heel, not allowing herself to look at Aeternus after the exchange. Were she not of the Emperor’s chosen, she would have said more - she would have done more for the Primarch. Their fates, however, had been laid long ago before they had even charged through the mountains of Himalazia, before either had even been created. 

Her breath caught the air with a slow, measured exhale. Her hands brought her helm over her head once more, donning the visage of the Black Hawk again as she surveyed the Cataegis. She spoke back in her normal, harsh tone, “Ursh awaits, Aeternus. Break them only in the manner a [i]Godslayer[/i] can.”

“[b]Raptor Imperialis[/b], Amalasuntha,” Aeternus replied with a warm smile, unholstering his winged helmet and sealing it over his head. The Primarch of the First turned away from the Black Hawk as the representatives began to arrive. His heavy footsteps brought him back into the tower, where a battle to decide the fate of the Imperium would be organized.