Suffer Not The Radiant

Chapter 50: Suffer Not

Ranesk moved through the dimly lit corridors of the Valorant headquarters with heavy, echoing steps. The state of the facility was far from what it once had been. Once a bustling hub of activity, it now resembled a war-torn relic of its former self. Broken lights flickered above him, casting eerie shadows along the walls, and the air was thick with a sense of desolation.

As he traversed the hallways, Ranesk passed by clusters of civilians who had sought refuge within the facility. Their faces were etched with weariness and fear as they caught sight of the massive Space Marine. They shivered in awe, their gazes fixed upon him as if he were a guardian angel in the midst of their despair. Some whispered prayers, while others simply stared, their eyes wide with wonder.

Ranesk paid them no mind, his focus unwavering. He had seen too much to be concerned with the reactions of the people. He was a warrior, a symbol of unwavering strength, and he had a mission to fulfill.

Turning a corner, Ranesk's steps brought him face to face with a group of Radiants. Their presence was a bitter reminder of the conflict that had torn the world apart. Their eyes held an unease as they watched the Space Marine approach, unaware of the hatred he bore for their kind.

Ranesk chose to ignore them. Pulling every hateful insult he had to the back of his head. He had no time for petty confrontations. His mind was set on a singular purpose—to cleanse the world of the Radiant threat. Whether or not he would have Radiants on his side is not of his concern for now. It would come after the war.

As he continued his solitary patrol, Ranesk couldn't help but reflect on the events that had brought the world to this dire state. The Radiants were not many, but they had powers that could rival the greatest psykers within the warp.

The memories of battles fought alongside the Radiant agents now haunted Ranesk. He recalled the camaraderie they had once shared, the unity in their purpose. But those days were long gone. The Radiants had chosen their path, and it was one of darkness and destruction. And he would answer with the same.

Despite his immense hatred for them, Ranesk couldn't afford to let personal vendettas cloud his judgment. The world was in chaos, and humanity needed him more than ever. He had a duty to protect the innocent, even if the Imperium was not present.

As he rounded another corner, the extent of the headquarters' decay became even more apparent. Cracked walls, shattered windows, and marks marred the once pristine corridors. The facility had become a grim reflection of the world outside—a world torn apart by conflict and despair.

Ranesk's thoughts were interrupted as he caught sight of a group of Radiants up ahead. They wore tattered clothing and bore expressions of uncertainty..

Despite the burning hatred that coursed through him, Ranesk chose to walk past them without a word. Engaging in confrontation would only serve to distract him from his mission. He knew that he couldn't save them; they had made their choices, and those choices had consequences.

As he continued his patrol, Ranesk couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope left for the world. The Radiants had plunged it into ruin, and the path to redemption seemed bleak.

—--------------------------

Tyberos, as was his custom, stood motionless as a statue amidst the bustling activity within the building. He found amusement in the peculiar contrast of this world's pace compared to the Imperium's relentless urgency. While he maintained his unwavering composure, he allowed Ranesk to navigate the intricacies of this alien realm, for it was a terrain he knew far better.

The absence of the warp, that unpredictable and perilous sea that defined their Imperium, was a curiosity that Tyberos could not help but find amusing.

In the midst of his contemplations, a diminutive figure, no taller than his knee, ventured forth and gazed up at him with wide-eyed wonder. To the child, he must have appeared as a monumental statue, reminiscent of a revered action figure. In an attempt to be less imposing, Tyberos lowered his gaze, and the young one flinched in response.