A WORLD ASLEEP

A WORLD ASLEEP

A world asleep, under its blanket of fog and pines. An enormous world, asleep, and dreaming - disturbed by the landing of a small space craft, near the foot of a small mountain.

Three figures rushed out of the open bay-doors, sprinting clear of the heat wash from the craft's landing jets. Two were man-sized, and clad in storm coats of deep oxblood and black. The third was a titan, two and a half metres tall and more than twice the width of a man. They cleared the claustrophobic landing zone, and gathered themselves up - checking straps and buttons, securing heavy holsters on their belts. The giant stood between them and their landing vehicle, surveying the conifer forest around them. It was dark, and silent. Terrifyingly so.

This was no place that the Astartes had ever heard of, and whilst it did not bother him to tread on alien soil, part of his conscious was unsettled. This was not a place of war, or even conflict. He had been trained, conditioned, and altered not to fear, and though it wasn't fear that he felt, he was... unbalanced. He couldn't imagine how the two humans felt.

Grenner spat a heavy ball of phlegm at the base of a pine, and snorted, a muffled, thick sound. This was his first time off-world, ever. And he was inwardly terrified. The Arbite had been selected by a council, of bastards, as far as he was concerned, to accompany an Inquisitor by the name of Rengald to this place. His briefing was longwinded, but simple. The dataslate was doubled up by a folder of vellum sheets, detailing his charge. He was to accompany Rengald, and safeguard his person whilst the inquisitor investigated the disappearance of seventeen imperial dignitaries. All of whom were presumed taken to this forsaken land. It wasn't clear how Rengald or his cohorts knew this. The fact that a Space Marine was present seemed to render himself rather obsolete.

The Inquisitor strode past Grenner towards the Astartes - a Novamarine. Grenner spared them a glance, before letting his well-trained eyes wander to the woods enveloping them. He couldn't see a damn thing. It was like this world was created in greyscale - the only hint of any color was in the grass, which reflected a suggestion of green in the moonlight. The Judge-Arbite slid his infamous mask on, taking his time to fit cables snugly into their chest-port jacks and connections. internally, he heard a slight hum as the inbuilt auspex and sensor suite powered up. Faint traces of his warmth vented out of the mask, and drifted away into the deep of the woods. It gave him chills, to watch his breath given form, disappear into that forlorn expanse. It made him feel vulnerable - there may not be another living thing out there. It occured to him, that he wouldn't have such sweaty palms if he believed that.

Rengald had finished speaking with the Novamarine, and returned to Grenner's side. 'You won't be needing that. At least you shouldn't be,' He whispered, gesturing to Grenner's facemask. 'This place... you won't be needing that.' He wrapped his black stormcoat more tightly around himself, and began the hike towards the small peak they had landed near. The Space Marine remained at the landing site, as their craft powered down in the small clearing.

Dense fog coiled around and clung to their boots as they ventured up the hillside. Before long, it became clear that they followed a path. The Judge fiddled with his heavy autogun, switching the weapon to fully automatic, though he maintained his trigger discipline. The fog seemed never ending, though it never rose above ankle height - he wondered at this. It should have left them behind in the woods.

The pair looked up suddenly, to see the mouth of a cave yawning out from the mountainside. The terrain reminded Rengald of the highlands he used to explore as a child. Decades, more than decades ago. Pulling him from his glamour, he felt Grenner pat his right shoulder with two fingers. Turning, he saw the Judge panning the treeline behind them with his rifle, zeroing in on something that had caught his hound-like senses.

And there it was. A man, in appearance, standing among the treeline. He looked so much like just another tree, grey and rigid. Even from this distance, the men could see that some damage had been visited upon the thing's body. It stood, watching them, and Rengald knew that his research had steered them true. Grenner hadn't spoken, but the inquisitor knew that violence was about to be made. 'Stand down, Judge. No need for that,' he spoke quietly.

Eyes still on the thing in the trees, Grenner spoke, 'Excuse me, sir. But you've told me I won't be needing my helmet, and now my weapon. What purpose do you have for me?'

'Grenner. I requested your accompaniment here today for one reason. Well, perhaps two in an adjacent sort of way. My compatriots and I have been searching long for souls such as yourself - Blunts. You were far from the first that we'd found, however you were the most capable.' At this, Rengald took a deep breath.

'Your mind is a vault, and not simply because you've trained it to be so. The smallest percentage of births produce a mind, a soul, that is unreachable by psychic force or probing. You appear to be one such being.'

Grenner lowered his weapon with a snort. He dearly wished that he was back on Medusa, hell-hole that it is. He was a reasonably educated man, but he couldn't even form a question in response to the information. His warrior conditioning kept his mind razor sharp, however - and with a nod, he continued up the slope on the heels of the Inquisitor. There would be plenty of time for questions later, and ale. Quite a lot of ale.

The Cave opening loomed ahead of them, and Rengald gestured to indicate weapons ready. With a chuckle, Grenner hefted his weapon and took some solace in it - finally, a situation that he might understand. The pair paused at the entrance, just long enough for the Inquisitor to whisper some sort of scripture and make ready his own heavy snub-pistol. Turning to his muscle, he sighed, 'Something is kept in this cave, something that I did not put there. In fact, we don't know what put it there. Despite the danger, it possesses knowledge that I - that the Inquisition, seeks. Stay close to me, as we continue.'

Beneath his mask, the judge sucked his teeth and wondered why the Novamarine wasn't here in his place. Pressing on into the depths of the cavern, claustrophobia would have crushed a weaker mind. There was no sound beyond the soft crunch of their heavy booted tread, and the fog that still clung at ankle height muffled even that. A half kilometre into the cave, the walls constricted and the passage shrunk into a sort of natural gateway. The stone was dark, nearly black, and craggy. The chamber beyond appeared naturally formed.

Through the half-light could be seen statues, sixteen of them - all bronze, knelt down as if in worship. Rengald's breath caught short, and with effort the man forced his gaze upward, to the cage suspended at the far end of the cavern.

'Do you hear that, Inquisitor? A thrum. The statues, perhaps?'

'No, Judge. A heartbeat. We must be going now, right away. We quit this place, and return to our sentinel at the landing zone,'

Grenner took a step backward, wheeling round on his heel, 'Is your information not here? What of these statues?'

'Last I was here, this cavern was empty, and the cage was not. Haste now, man'

The pair took up a swift march out of the cave, and down the slope toward their craft. Grenner noted that there was now a second figure amongst the treeline as they approached, standing on the far-side of the path they followed.

Instinctively, Grenner raised his heavy-calibre autogun and squeezed the trigger twice, slamming the first body into the tree behind it, leaving it crumpled in the dirt. Panning to his left and still running, he let off two more rounds directly where the other thing had stood. It had gone, though, and the bullets flew into the woods, splintering low boughs as they went. Those four door-slam bangs rang out, threatening to wake the world with their intrusion.

'Damn and blast, they're nothing man - we're quitting this world while the quitting's good, and I don't think bothering these watchers will aid us,' Rengald scolded, but he was glad the forms were dispatched. He presumed that they were vessels, giving sight to something sightless. But at this moment, all of his theories were second chair to thoughts of survival.

Short moments later and they approached the landing zone, still guarded by their giant companion. 'Shots fired, Arbite? I detect no threat,'

'Something is amiss, and we go now. Something else is out there, something I did not consider. The thing in the night, it must not escape with us.'

The Inquisitor hailed their pilot, and the trio bolted back into the Space Cutter. Once inside, the men sat in the crew bay, belting and strapping themselves in for the acceleration. The Novamarine stood - stooped, really - and regarded them. 'What went wrong, Inquisitor,'

'Was unforseeable, Brother Ranial.'

The titan shifted, 'Unforseeable, perhaps. Preventable, certainly. Knowledge of any entity otherworldly and sinister should have been followed by purgation. I defer to your wisdom, but in this I am uneasy.'

While the two continued their debating, Grenner sat, still wearing his mask. Part of him was afraid to remove it and bare his face to the Astartes. He needed a moment to compose himself, and the mask gave him cover. He had no idea where he was, or what his party had sought here. He didn't know what he had shot in the woods, or even why. And beyond that, the knowledge that he was Blunt. A Blunt, the Blunt? What did he know. Letting his head rest back in the cradle, he sighed long and deep.

He couldn't wait to find a good strong ale.