Kratos5627
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The Imprint
🕑 Added 2025-04-09 03:30:01 +0000 UTC
The Warpstorm howled above, rattling the ruins and moaning through the broken streets. Cassian knelt behind a crumbling pillar, eyes shut tight, teeth clenched. The storm’s psychic pressure gnawed at his mind, like claws raking across his thoughts. Sweat ran down his brow, cold against his skin.
“Again,” Faeveleth whispered. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the storm’s fury. “Your walls are still weak. Do it again.”
Cassian drew a slow breath, fighting to steady his mind. He rebuilt his defenses brick by brick, trying to remember her teachings — the way she spoke of psychic barriers like fortress walls, thoughts like soldiers on the battlements. The pressure pressed harder. The whispers of the Warpstorm slithered against his mind, cold and insidious.
He focused. Each breath steady and calm, forging his will into a shield. He pushed the whispers back, his mind settling into a tense silence.
When he opened his eyes, Faeveleth was watching him with just quiet expectation. She turned away, her attention shifting back to the ruins.
“Come. We move.”
They slipped through the city’s decaying corpse, the storm crackling above but it had quited down. The deeper they went, the heavier the air grew. Cassian followed close, boots careful on broken stone.
They passed what might’ve once been a marketplace. Stalls lay overturned, long-rotted goods scattered across the stone. The bones of civilians huddled together in corners, frozen in their final moments. Cassian averted his gaze.
“Your kind built this place,” Faeveleth muttered, eyes scanning the darkness. “Your Imperium. And look at it now.”
Cassian said nothing. No point arguing.
They moved deeper. The ruins grew darker, colder. The stone beneath their feet felt slick, as if soaked in old blood. Cassian’s grip tightened on his bolt pistol.
Then he felt something.
A presence.
Cold. Old. Hungry.
Cassian froze. Faeveleth stopped as well, head tilting. She whispered a word he didn’t understand, and the air grew colder.
“What is that?” Cassian breathed.
She didn’t answer. She moved forward, steps slow. Cassian followed, readying himself for any dangers. They passed through a shattered archway, into a vast, open chamber. The air shifted.
The floor was blackened, scorched in places, the stone cracked and broken. Along the walls, psychic imprint glimmered faintly, pulsing with a sickly light. At the chamber’s heart, the air shimmered — a faint, ghostly presence, pulsing like a heartbeat long stopped.
Faeveleth stopped dead. Her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat.
“No…” she whispered.
Cassian glanced at her. “What?”
She stepped forward, slowly, like a woman in a dream. Her hand hovered over the scorched stone. The psychic imprint flickered. The air grew colder.
“It’s him,” she whispered. “He was here.”
“Who?” Cassian asked, but she didn’t answer.
She knelt, pressing her palm against the stone. The psychic imprint flared to life. Cassian felt the pressure shift — the air tightening with something.
The vision struck.
Cassian gasped as his mind was pulled into the past. The chamber darkened, shadows swirling. A figure stood at the heart of the room, tall and proud, clad in ancient armor that shimmered with alien grace. His spear burned with cold fire, every movement was without any imperfections. Across from him stood another figure — twisted, corrupted, its armor dark and slick with unnatural filth. Their blades met, each clash shook the space as they battled for supremacy.
Cassian felt the warrior’s rage. His grief. His determination.
Then the twisted figure struck.
It borrowed power from its dark masters, overpowering him. The warrior faltered. The darkness surged forward, engulfing him. There was a scream — of pain and defiance. And then silence.
The vision shattered.
Cassian gasped, stumbling back. The chamber spun, darkness curling at the edges of his vision. He blinked, breath ragged, trying to steady himself.
Faeveleth remained frozen, staring at the scorched stone. Her hands trembled. Breathing heavily.
“He fought here,” she whispered. “My mentor.”
Cassian swallowed. “Your Phoenix Lord?”
She didn’t answer. Her hands curled into fists. The air crackled around her, from her psychic pressure and volatile emotions.
She breathed deeply as she whispered. “This imprint contains both my corrupted mentor and the asuryan sent to hunt him down.”
Cassian shifted uncomfortably. “What does this mean for us then?”
She turned, eyes cold. “It means we are getting close.”
Her gaze lingered on the psychic imprint, jaw tight. Then she stood, her expression hardening. “Come. We are not alone.”
Cassian glanced into the shadows. He felt it too.
---
They moved in silence, shadows stretching long under the dim, sickly glow bleeding through the roiling clouds above. Cassian kept his steps light, ears straining for any hint of noise. Faeveleth glided ahead of him, each movement soundless, her eyes constantly sweeping the ruins around them.
As they crept past the rusted husk of an Imperial transport, Cassian caught a glimpse of something — faint lines of alien script, barely visible beneath centuries of grime. He squinted, the markings faintly familiar. A rune. The same sigils he’d glimpsed earlier in the city.
Cassian slowed. "These symbols. They're Eldari, aren’t they?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper.
Faeveleth halted. Her head turned slightly, violet eyes catching his in the gloom. "You are more perceptive than I gave you credit for, mon-kleigh," she said, her tone laced with disdain. "Yes. They mark old paths, remnants of a time when my kind walked these worlds unchallenged. Before your kind settled here it used to be a craftworld, a safe haven before her awakening.”
She had a sad look in her face as she narrated her race’s downfall. Before her mask went back in place.
Cassian frowned as he gave her time to adjust her mood, before asking. "You mentioned Paths. Paths to where?"
She hesitated, eyes narrowing. "The Webway."
Cassian knew about the Webway from his past life, but he kept quiet. Revealing that now would only invite suspicion.
Faeveleth let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "The Webway — a labyrinth of hidden paths and tunnels that spans the galaxy. It allows my people to travel vast distances in the blink of an eye. This place…" She gestured to the ruins. "It once held a gate. A path to safety, perhaps. Or death.”
She turned away, continuing down the ruined street. Cassian followed.
They moved quietly for a time before he spoke again. “I need to leave this planet.”
Faeveleth laughed — cold, bitter. “And what makes you think you could use the Webway that is barely functioning?”
“I can’t. Not without help and I do not have many choices.” He glanced at her.
She stopped. Her head turned slowly, violeteyes glimmering in the gloom. “And you expect me to simply hand over my technology to you?”
“No,” Cassian said, his voice low. “But you want to kill your fallen mentor. You’re strong — I’ve seen that — but you can’t be everywhere at once. You need a distraction. You need someone expendable.” He gestured to himself. “That’s me.”
Her gaze lingered on him, sharp and cold. “You overestimate your worth.”
“Maybe,” Cassian allowed. “But I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to use me.”
Another pause. Then, slowly, Faeveleth reached into the folds of her armor and withdrew a slender, rune-covered pendant. It glimmered faintly in the dim light.
“The gate won’t open for you,” she said, her voice sharp. “Not without guidance. This will show you the way. But if you betray me…” Her eyes flashed with cold fire. “I will ensure your death is slow.”
Cassian took the pendant carefully, the weight of it cold against his palm. Before, returning it to her. He met her gaze, nodding once.
“Deal.”
They moved on, the silence heavier than before.
---
Cassian stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the towering ruins ahead. The oppressive atmosphere of the Chaos-tainted world pressed down on his body but he has already gotten used to it. Beside him, Faevleth moved with the kind of grace only the Eldar possessed — silent, light. Cassian shifted uneasily, feeling more like an intruder than an ally. Not that they were allies. Not really.
They stopped beneath the jagged remains of what might’ve once been a statue, now twisted and broken, its features long devoured by corruption. Faevleth scanned the area, her gaze unyielding. Cassian could feel the tension in the air, thick and stifling, but he broke the silence first.
“So, this is where we part,” Cassian said quietly. He tried to sound neutral, but the words came out more relieved than intended.
Faevleth scoffed, a soft, sharp sound. “Do not mistake this for trust, mon-kleigh. Our paths diverge because it serves me. Not because I believe you capable.” Her violet eyes narrowed, flickering faintly in the dim light. “If you die, it changes nothing.”
Cassian clenched his jaw. The urge to snap back was strong, but he swallowed it down. “I’ll manage.”
Her expression was unreadable, a flicker of amusement dancing across her features. “Will you?” She tilted her head. “You stumble through this world like a blind child, fumbling at powers you barely comprehend. You’re fragile. If not for the storm, the daemons would’ve torn your mind apart.”
“I’m still alive,” Cassian muttered.
“For now.” She stepped closer, the air between them taut. “Do not mistake endurance for skill. You survived because the greater powers haven’t turned their gaze fully upon you. Not yet.”
Cassian inhaled sharply but said nothing. She was right. He knew just enough to avoid immediate death, but that wouldn’t last forever. The Warp was patient. It always waited.
Faevleth turned her back on him, her movements predatory. “When the time comes, do not hesitate. Or you’ll be consumed.”
He watched her for a long moment. “I’ll find my own way.”
She chuckled softly, the sound cold and distant. “Of course you will.”
Without another word, Faevleth tossed a spirit stone communicator and vanished into the shadows, her form melting into the darkness like a ghost. Cassian stood alone, the silence pressing in around him. He tightened his grip on the spirit stone and started toward the distant silhouette of the ship.
The journey back felt longer than before. Shapes twisted and shifted in the darkness — some real, some imagined. He moved quickly, footsteps quiet against the cracked stone. Every sound felt louder here.
When the ship finally came into view, Cassian felt only relief. The battered hull stood out against the desolation, its metal form weathered but enduring. As he approached, the ship’s automated defenses clicked softly, scanning him before disengaging. The doors hissed open, and Cassian stepped inside, the stale air washing over him like a familiar weight.
The interior was dark, illuminated only by the flickering glow of the consoles. Cassian moved through the narrow corridors, each step echoing faintly. When he reached the central chamber, he found Magos Farron hunched over a console, the red glow of his optics flickering in the dim light.
“Magos,” Cassian greeted. His voice felt small in the silence.
Farron turned slowly, mechanical limbs whirring softly. “Initiate Vale.” The Tech-Priest’s voice was a metallic rasp, modulated and cold. “You return.”
Cassian exhaled, leaning against the wall. “I found someone.”
Farron’s optics clicked softly. “An ally?”
“Hardly.” Cassian shook his head. “An Eldar. She’s… hunting someone.” He hesitated. “A Phoenix Lord.”
The Tech-Priest’s movements stilled. “Curious.” Farron turned back to the console, metal fingers tapping against the surface. “And what of your purpose?”
Cassian hesitated. “We’re leaving.”
Farron paused. “Leaving?”
“There’s a Webway Gate on this planet,” Cassian said quietly.
The Tech-Priest regarded him silently, the red glow of his optics unwavering. “It will be dangerous.”
“Less dangerous than staying here.” Cassian pushed off the wall, stepping closer. “We can’t survive on this planet. You know that.”
Farron tilted his head slightly. “You trust her?”
“No,” Cassian said flatly. “But I trust that she wants to get off this world as much as we do. And if she dies in the process, that’s one less problem.”
The Tech-Priest was silent for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Logical.”
Cassian exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll need your help. Whatever’s waiting for us out there… we’re not surviving it alone.”
Farron regarded him quietly before turning back to his work. “Understood.”
Cassian watched the Tech-Priest for a moment before stepping back. He leaned against the cold metal wall, eyes closing for a brief moment. The journey wasn’t over. But the path is much clear now.
And one way or another, he was getting off this world.
---
Comments
Siva Chandan Chakka
Great chapter, I was curious how he was gonna leave this place and now I have the answer
Dan Isl
Her kind wet-dreamed the Devouring Matriarch of Sloots into existence and she has the gall to show contempt for some run-down furniture... truly the Eldar have eyes but cannot see Mt. Tai
ShadowKnight
Especially when they were so…..eccentric that they made slannesh, like we are bad but not THAT bad well maybe the men of iron….but hey it’s not warp related…yet
IgnisPrimus
“Your kind built this place,” Faeveleth muttered, eyes scanning the darkness. “Your Imperium. And look at it now.” Coming from an Eldar, that just sounds like projecting.
