On the twenty-third day after Nareth's arrival on Terra, he received a message from Ferrus Manus: the armor he had been forging for him was complete.
Nareth went to Manus' residence to receive it.
Upon entering the courtyard, he found the entire space had been converted into a small forge.
Manus stood before a massive furnace, several attendants by his side, one of whom was a Tech-Priest in rust-red robes.
The moment Nareth stepped in, Manus turned his head. The Tech-Priest also turned, and after identifying the genetic signature of a Primarch, his vox-emitter released a mechanical, synthesized greeting:
[This unit // Tech-Priest // Malevolus / greets the Primarch // Monarch of Votroya // Lord Nareth.]
Nareth gave a nod in return: "Malevolus, your forging craft is admirable."
"To forge armor for you / is this unit's honor."
Before the words had faded, Manus' heavy, leaden voice sounded:
"Malevolus is the finest craftsman of the Imperium. He took part in the making of both your armor and mine."
His silver-coin eyes deepened.
"Even the First Returned Son, Horus, had his armor forged by Malevolus."
Nareth noticed Manus now wore a new suit of armor, already showing the early shadow of what would later become the Armor of the Gorgon.
A towering gorget rose high behind his head, its silver rim lined with rivets. One pauldron bore the sigil of the Iron Hands, hammered from a single block of alloy; the other was draped with a heavy iron-shrouded cloak.
The back of the armor bristled with tools, though no experimental weapons were mounted yet.
The Tech-Priest's vox crackled again, "Lord Manus' mastery is admirable // this unit has gained much // this unit has received the Omnissiah's inspiration / this unit will carry these techniques back to Mars / soon new suits of armor will be born."
Nareth knew the Imperium's Cataphractii Pattern Terminator Armour had its prototype in Manus' own suit; Malevolus had carried its schematics back to Mars for development.
With the Tech-Priest's help, Nareth donned his own armor.
It was entirely black, but unlike Manus's suit, its surface was set with scales from the iron-scaled kraken, and on the chest faintly lingered a shadow-like emblem. Every surface was hand-forged, exquisitely wrought.
Though Malevolus had worked on it, Ferrus Manus' innate metallurgical genius shone in every fitting and curve.
A key difference: space was left on the back for Nareth's golden wings. He tested them, and they folded and spread smoothly.
As requested, Manus had also left a mount for the Dionysian Spear.
Since the wings took up much of the back, Nareth could not carry the same mass of tools as Manus. Instead, the spear rested near his right wing, its shaft jutting over his shoulder.
The moment he slotted it in place, the unsettling pressure that had haunted him eased, his body relaxing.
Then, just as he entered the courtyard, a chorus of phantom voices stirred at his ear.
'It must be Tierney performing a ritual, presenting offerings to me.'
Nareth reached back and gripped the spear, his eyes fixing far away, over ten kilometers distant.
There lay a tract of empty ground, marked out but not yet built upon. With a casual motion, he hurled the spear.
The Dionysian Spear whistled through the sky in a shining arc before plunging into the earth.
With a thunderous crack, a fissure several meters wide ripped open as the weapon buried itself underground.
"Perfectly weighted," Nareth murmured, unconcerned, for the spear would return on its own.
Leaving it behind, he entered his villa and went to his chamber.
In a flash, he stepped into the shadow side of the Kingdom of Disorder. There he saw a phantom gray orb, swelling and shrinking.
Unfurling his spirituality, he reached toward it.
At once, blurred and twisted visions filled his mind, overlain with spectral voices:
"Black Emperor of Shadowed Order,
…
"I beseech Thy gaze."
"Please accept my offering."
…
"O Iron Laws of Monarchs, basis of the Kingdom of Disorder, grant strength to my invocation."
On the altar before him lay offerings, though hazy and insubstantial. Nareth knew his spirit alone could not carry so many items into the Kingdom of Disorder.
He shifted into the Fourth layer, condensed a black phantom, and returned to the shadow side to establish contact with the orb.
From there, his spirituality extended toward Tierney's location, condensing into a black gate.
Kneeling at his altar, Tierney suddenly saw the gate manifest before him.
Boom!
With a half-real, half-illusory creak, the gate slowly opened.
From within the dark, high above the black mists, the Black Emperor gazed down upon him.
Tierney's body trembled uncontrollably, reverence before overwhelming majesty.
Before he could react, a mighty suction burst forth.
Objects upon the altar were seized by invisible force and drawn into the gate.
He dared not raise his head until a commanding voice resounded:
"Well done."
Moments later, items came flying back out, falling onto the altar.
"Make good use of them."
"Praise my Lord, gratitude for thy gifts!" Tierney cried in devotion, watching the black gate vanish and the spiritual storm subside.
Nareth inspected the offerings. Among them, besides the altar's goods, was a dataslate.
Opening it, he found records of the items.
'Tierney has been thoughtful.'
One note stood out: House Komag's chronometer shone with the brightest spiritual light.
'Likely a Sequence 5 potion material of the Error Path… yes, "Dream Stealer."'
The most numerous materials, however, were the crimson prosthetic eyes of "Crimson Striders", the main ingredient for advancing from Sequence 9 "Mystery Pryer" to Sequence 8 "Melee Scholar."
Nareth knew the Crimson Striders were a cabal of psions, gene-scientists, and warlords who had once served the last tyrant of the Age of Strife, creating war machines and biogenetic monstrosities.
There were 109 such eyes, all from a single family.
'They thought quantity would make up for lack of rare quality.'
'But they didn't expect Tierney to be a "Swindler."'
The next day, Nareth awoke to find the Dionysian Spear lying on his chamber's marble floor, as expected.
'The Emperor's craftsmanship is remarkable. This spear is stranger than the Aeldar's singing spears used by their farseers and warlocks.'
'A singing spear returns to its wielder through psychic resonance.'
'But the Dionysian Spear, what power brings it back, when even I cannot sense it? Truly wondrous.'
Descending to the villa's hall, he received his aide's report:
"My Lord, Lewis von Valantius reports: while traveling southward on the galactic map from Vostroya, he encountered a xenos fleet in a nearby system."
"Their warships bore cannons mounted beneath their flanks. By his judgment, they are of the Fra'al xeno."
"The xenos have seized two planets in the system. He requests your fleet's aid."
Nareth inclined his head. "Reply that I shall personally lead a fleet, together with the Tenth Legion's ships, to render aid."
"Issue orders, dispatch the Eleventh Chapter to the system held by the Fra'al."
"Send word to Manus, have the Tenth Legion join us there."
Five days later, with affairs settled, Nareth and Manus boarded the Throne Shadow's Sovereignity The fleet set sail.
.....
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