Curze's Curse

Fear is but a tool

The Strategirium was reeling of fear, the lords of Phantine's greatest hive complex shivered in anticipation of these man ́s words. They could see the man beside him, taller than all of them, stronger than all of them. He wasn't as tall as the monster who had spoken and terrified them in the council room, but he was no less unnatural. The lord protector of the world knew what he was, he had to know. An Astartes, and the other man was nothing more than a naval officer. His uniform millenia old by his reckoning.

The naval officer had a large smile before speaking.

"Your fear is respected, lords of Phantine." He said jokingly.

"What do you want?" The military man said, shivering. It was clear there was still some fire in him.

"Oh, there is someone with fire in them. I guess my lord will have to deal with that later. Don't you think Rushal?" He replied, playing with the only man besides him who would speak.

The man's voice cracked at this.

"Don't worry, I will tell you what we want. A military man to another..." His fake smile casting a shadow of irony over his conversation. "We want ammunition, promethium and fuel, crews and void fighter contingents. That is what we want." He threw a dataslate to the only man who understood and could comprehend their demands fully. "We also want you to repair our ships."

The lord admiral flowns. "Thramas didn't leave the Nightfall in good shape after all."

"Who are you to demand this? This is more than the entire world produces in years." The lord militant responded in anger.

The lord admiral smashes his hands on the table. "Well, then better start pumping the production numbers. The 8th Legion Astartes and his Primarch are not known for their patience, lord militant."

"8th legion?!" Another of the men spoke stupefied. This one was more connected and knew some truths the general populace didn't know about the heresy. As such he had an appropriate response of "DIE TRAITORS!" and lunged at Lord Admiral Shang.

Shang was not impressed. He took his laspistol from his holster and put a single round into the fanatic's head. His body was left to lay on top of the Strategirium's table for the remainder of the meeting.

"You will live, if you think before acting." Rushal spoke, he had remained silent in his dark unadorned armor. "Your colleague here will serve as a reminder. We don't like excess bloodshed, but my men can do it far better than you think." His voice was hard and solemn.

The remaining men nodded in understanding.

"Good, now that we are all up to date. You can all go do your jobs making these numbers a reality." The Lord Admiral concluded.

"I see death." A voice spoke just before anyone had risen from their seats. The voice of someone that should not be there. "I see a Hydra being killed by a bolt." She continued to speak.

Colthatror was not supposed to be there, hell she was supposed to be asleep. The doors of the Strategirium did not once open after all of them entered and yet she was there. Her white raven hair and pale skin contrasting against what should have been her golden like cat eyes, and yet they were not golden in that moment. They were pitch black like the eyes of the Nostraman born.

"I see a bug eating a golden hawk." She continued. "I see the bug dying against lightning. I see an abacus... I see nothing." She ended. Her eyes suddenly returned to gold as she collapsed on the floor.

"Rushal, go get Curze! He needs to hear of this!" He spoke in Nostraman as he got out of the chair and rushed to her side.

"EVERYONE OUT!" He shouted to everyone else in high gothic. The former council sprinted out of the Strategium as fast as they felt their blood being pumped into their veins.

Rushal did indeed go to Curze, although it took him quite a while to find him as the Nigthhunter was a master of shadows.It took a long time before Rushal found Curze. Well long until he heard the screams of the unfortunate servant. When he heard them it was easy to find the Primarch of the 8th. He was still there, with the servant half dead tied to the wall in an X. His left arm had been bleeding long, it was easy to see. The skin damage in that area and the blood on the ground were hard evidences of the torture the Nighthunter subject him through. It was amazing that this mortal was still alive. Well amazing if this had not been the wishes of his Primarch.