Getting Warhammered [WH 40k Fanfic]

133 – Play Stupid Games …

“Who are you?” I asked, trembling in fury as livid arcs of power jumped over my skin. “And what have you done to Selene?”

My aura was flaring and I could tell everyone on the ship with even a nick of psychic potential could feel it. The … thing in front of me was Selene. Every cell of her body fit, every strand of hair, even the expressions, the way she liked to half-smirk and let her eyelids fall halfway when she teased me. Everything was hers.

But it stank. And I couldn’t tell why … the link. Of course. How could I be so stupid? I had a damned Telepathic Bond with her, and it was missing. 

No. Not missing. It’s still there, but not linking me to this fake. I calmed down instantly as I felt Selene, the real Selene’s shock at my outburst from somewhere above me. A flush of embarrassment ran up my cheeks, then I huffed out a breath as I glared at the stupid fucking thing. 

That was all the warning it got before I lashed out. It danced out of the way, but a blast of furious energy tore off its shoulder and then I was on it. My fingers closed around its neck in vice as I moved faster than ever before even as my Custodian-grade muscles tore from the strain and mended themselves a moment after.

“You are going to pay for that scare.” I tightened my grip and flooded its body with the most painful electricity possible. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

It screamed, eerily still sounding like Selene as it did and I couldn’t help the shudder that rushed down my spine from that. Even just a fake mimicking its voice, imagining the real her being made to scream like that tore at my heart.

Then it started giggling, transforming into a full-blown cackle even as I was running a whole-ass industrial generator’s worth of electricity frying its nerves. What, the, fuck. 

“What a bust.” It croaked out between giggles. “What gave it away? Hey, tell me? Can’t just be that your love wouldn’t have said what I said? I know it wasn’t. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.” 

“Daemon.” I said, my eyes widening for a moment and I saw glee in the thing’s eyes as it saw my surprise. Then it must have seen the cruel glint flash behind my eye as its grin fell away. 

I didn’t say anything. I just infused the electricity with Smite.

I thought it was screaming before, but that was merely an imitation. This stupid thing mimicking a human’s reactions. Now, though? Now the Daemon was screaming from the depths of its infernal soul as my energy tore into it and annihilated it part by part. Slowly. Oh, I went slow and enjoyed the sheer agony in its eyes as it tried to twist itself out of my grasp.

It was like a hundred people screaming as one. Like a hundred pigs getting slaughtered, a concerto of chalk screeching on a hundred blackboards. The voices fluctuated from young to old, human to alien.

It went slack, bones melting, flesh softening and skin turning liquid in my grasp, but I wrapped the whole disgusting goop up in a psychic barrier and squeezed it into a ball and continued to ever so slowly fry its soul.

“Echidna?” 

I turned my head to her. I could tell this Selene was the real one, I felt our Bond as clearly as a physical thread wrapping around my throat. She must have rushed down here after she felt my outburst, maybe even Blinking. Did she learn how to Blink in my one month of being a shut-in? Or was it Val who teleported her down? “Yes?”

“What are you doing? What’s up? I felt-”

“I know.” I set my jaw, returning a seething glare at the shrill daemon goop. I wrapped a field of soundproofing shield around the already existing Barrier. “This … thing. Dared to impersonate you. It- I’m going to kill it. Slowly.”

“Oh,” she just stared for a second, lips pulled into a thin line as she watched the churning goop as it formed hands to claw at my shields, nails digging in surprisingly deep, but tearing off as I tugged at the shields just so. “Wh- What did it do? I mean- the-”

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “It just … spouted the typical Daemonic bullshit. Wanted me to become some monster and ‘shed off my facade of humanity’. Well, I’m curious how much of a human it thinks I still am right now.”

“You are … torturing it.” 

“I am,” I said, only realising what she was meaning. “We agreed I can torture when it has some goal. I have to make this damned thing pay. Or we are going to have a bunch of these shits running around and tormenting us. They never learn. Only oblivion makes them feel true fear and that is what I am going to give this thing.”

“I … see.” She gulped. Our gazes locked together and I saw worry in her eyes, and a hint of fear. I paused. What. No. No. That was bad. Really, really fucking bad. She shouldn’t have to fear anything, least of all me. “Could you … get it over with? For me? Kill that thing quickly, don’t play with it. Please?”

My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my flesh and drawing blood. I took a deep breath. Then another. 

I pulled my hand out of the orb-like barrier and stopped electrifying the goop, which instantly calmed down and went into overdrive. Frantically trying to break out, but I was not holding back anything. Flesh was peeling back on my fingers from the amount of soul-energy flowing through my bones and powering that barrier. Not even Guilliman could have clawed his way out of that prison without his fancy sword.

Though it was exorbitantly costly on my reserves. I really should get it over with.

“Alright,” I said, focusing on Selene to keep my emotions under some measure of control and calm. “Alright. Okay. Sure.”

I turned back to the goop orb. “Well, it was most certainly not a pleasure knowing you, whoever the fuck you are. I hope your fellows heard your screams and learn their place lest they end up like you.”

My barrier shuddered and I could tell it was screaming again, cursing me and swearing up and down how my soul will be torn to shreds when ‘the rest find me’. I let myself smile at that. They’ll learn. Sooner or later. Though I’d still have to avoid Greater Daemons as much as I can. I’ll have to wrap my base up in as many anti-daemon sigils and wards as physically possible. Anything short of drenching it all in Sisters of Battle blood like those Grey Knights did their weapons. I don’t want any other surprises like this.

Smite-infused soul energy jumped to my fingers, flowing through my bones unimpeded and gathering in my fist in more and more potent density with every passing moment. 

My flesh further peeled back, but I hardly cared. It’d be back in a minute. After I took care of the Daemon.

I launched my hand without another word, my fingers poised like the tip of a spear and brimming with Smite-infused energy as they lanced right into the goop. Then the energy exploded outwards and burst into the twisting daemon. I could tell it tried to run, to slip out of the orb-like barrier by flowing over my wrist or even invading my body, but it severely underestimated the amount of energy I was willing to waste on getting it dead right then and there as quickly as possible.

Boxed in by the orb, it had nowhere to go and soon the only things that remained inside were my rampaging smite and my near-translucent hand. I dismissed it all, sucking the lingering energy back into my Puddle. 

I don’t feel even a hint of daemonic energy in it. It’s dead as can be. 

“Done,” I said, flicking my messed up hand and having flesh and skin flow back over it. I could have built another damned fake spaceship like the one we were riding out of the bio-energy it took to heal up a single hand of my new Psyker Form. “It’s dead.”

“Dead dead, or back next week dead like demons usually are?”

“It can’t get any more dead than it is right now,” I smirked. “I annihilated it down to the last flick of energy. That thing is most certainly not coming back ever again.”

“What was that thing anyway?” Selene asked, scowling at the floor where the grey goop was not so long ago. “Besides ‘a daemon’. I don’t think I ever heard of daemons like that.”

“Have you heard a lot about daemons?” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought they were pretty much taboo to talk about in the Imperium.”

“Val told me the basics,” she shrugged. “So? What was it?”

“Good question,” I said, rubbing my chin. Then paused as a little snippet of warhammer lore came back to me. “Could it have been that one? But … “

‘The Changeling, also known as the "Trickster of Tzeentch," is a Daemonic Herald of Tzeentch who epitomises the Lord of Change's love of sowing discord and distrust, and his perverse sense of humour. 

Tzeentch long ago bestowed upon the Changeling a doppelganger's ability to assume any shape, from that of the tiniest insect to the largest Greater Daemon.’

“It died pretty easily … hmmmm.” I frowned in confusion. That thing was supposed to be on the level of a Greater Daemon and should have been capable of fooling even the mightiest of beings in existence. I think I remember it being at the council of Nikea, hiding under the nose of the Emperor and half a dozen Primarchs … then there was that time it snuck into Khorne’s throneroom and put a … fartpillow on his throne? Or was that just a silly meme? Hmmmm.

“What are you thinking?” Selene asked, sliding up next to me and wrapping a hand around my waist. She rubbed my side comfortingly, as if trying to calm an angry cat by scratching it behind the ears.

“I’ve heard of a shape-changing daemon before,” I said, leaning into her half-hug. “But this thing died too fast, too easily for it to have been The Changeling.”

“Wait,” Selene said. “‘The’ Changeling? As in, this was supposedly a unique one?”

“As far as I know,” I shrugged. “There are other shape-changers in this galaxy that I know of, but none of them even come close to the perfect mimicry the Changeling supposedly has. Plus, it was a daemon. I’m sure of that, at least.”

“So, hypothetically, what would the consequences be if you really did kill that unique daemon?”

“Nothing much,” I said, my lips curling into a smirk. “I just killed one of Tzeentch’s favourite daemons, he’ll probably laugh his ass off and leave me alone, right?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “‘Oh’, indeed. We might be fucked.”

And here I was, thinking I could avoid them messing with me this early on. I’ll have to speed my plans up. That base outfitted with anti-daemon sigils and more needs to be ready yesterday.

“Worse yet,” I closed my eyes as I felt my little Realm. “I just wasted almost a fifth of my entire Soul Energy reserves.”

“Meaning?” Selene asked, and I could feel her worry spiking. 

“Meaning we have to speed things up if we don’t want to get caught with our pants down,” I said. “With this thing dead, I doubt it’ll take long for a stronger daemon to come after me. Or a horde of them, even. If there is one thing these fuckers fear, it’s oblivion and I just showed them I can make even a daemon as strong as the Changeling face it. They’ll want the threat I pose gone as soon as possible.”

Well. The Greater Daemons will. If I know one thing about Tzeenth, it’s that he enjoys anything that spices up the Great Game and I am a whole fucking bucket of chilli poured right into it. But that just means he won’t put in any personal effort into getting me killed. 

Selene squeezed me tightly, worry flowing into her aura like a riptide. I understood, really. Daemons were the ultimate boogeymen in this galaxy. They warped the mind, never died and their masters were powerful enough to orchestrate the Horus Heresy and put the Emperor himself out of commission. 

“It’ll be fine,” I said, my emotions shown clearly through our Bond. I was worried, true, but I was annoyed more than anything. “We just need to prepare and get ready. Daemons aren’t omnipotent and they can’t just materialise on a thought. We have some time.”

“What do you need me to do?” She asked, staring up at me resolutely.

“Keep up your training,” I said. “And try to pry whatever information you can out of Val. I know there are Daemon wards, sigils and whatnot that obstruct them. I’m not sure if he knows of them, but if he does, I don’t have to hunt down some Imperial Inquisitor to get my hands on them.”

“Okay, sure. What else?”

“Nothing yet.” I shrugged, cracking my neck. “We need to get these fish heads to hurry the hell up. But I’ll handle that. Aside from that … I don’t know yet.”

“Okay,” she said. “If you need me to do anything, just ask.”

“Thank you,” I squeezed her a bit tighter. “You are perfect. We’ll handle this. No need to worry overly much. Worst case scenario, we run and hide under a random Tyranid Hive Fleet’s Shadow.”

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