Fighting With Faith- Thirty-Fifth Entry


A rapid, light staccato of footsteps sounded its way down along the dim and dark corridors of the warehouse. Cultist Alken, forehead creased into a deep frown, worked his way through the tight corridors lit only by sparse lightings to the end of it, where it ended in a broad, low ceiling rounded auditorium. Several other robed figures were also striding purposefully along the corridors, all wearing a facial expression that betrayed no form of fear or cowardice. The atmosphere in the central command centre of the warehouse was tense, everyone well aware of the marshalling Imperial forces across the plains on all sides.

Its walls were plain, rusted, corroded metal of ages past, its inhabitants long ago driven out of this structure from unknown reasons. The air held a tinge of blood and perspiring creatures of alien odour

Only the commander in charge, Master Cultist Barnel and his assistant Kaweit stood at the central pulpit, calmly issuing orders and receiving reports. Both stood at heights towering above everyone else, their two additional limbs on the sides of their body long ago been blessed by the Hive Mother with serrated blades grown from it and clamping, powerful pincers protruding from their torsos.

They still maintained a rather humanoid head, however their eyes taking a menacing, Genestealer like aspect. Their noses had also been flattened, only two narrow slits remaining at where their nostrils should have been.

Regardless of all these benefactions, rewards of their great victories from previous engagements, they still speak perfect Gothic, to Alken’s relief. He was not well associated yet with the guttural and tail-flicking way the Tyranid creatures communicated in.

“Greetings, fellow Alken, what report do you bring?” Barnel slurred as he turned his head to face Alken. He then shifted his body to fully face Alken, pivoting his waist and turning.

For a briefest moment, Alken was fascinated by Master Cultist Barnel’s state of manifestation. How Alken wished he was blessed too with such enhancements, maybe with even more. He is so close to perfection!

Behind Master Barnel, Alken could vaguely make out the brutish and hulking form of Master Barnel’s assistant, Kaweit. Assitant-Cultist Master Kaweit seemed deep in conversation with another cultist at the base of the pulpit, of which Alken could not recognise.

It had been rumoured amongst the lower echelons of the Tyranid insurgent army that Assistant-Cultist Master Kaweit was not an assistant to Master Cultist Barnel at all, but a personal bodyguard in a much elaborated charade. Some even insinuate the rank of overseer of the entire army, but only under the disguise of assistant Master Cultist for safety and security intentions.

Barnel seemed to sense Alken’s thoughts as he began to reflexively flare his nose slits, making audible hissing sounds.

Alken, suddenly aware of Master Barnel’s attention on him, immediately snapped out of his reverence and cleared his throat.

“Master Barnel, the enemy is sighted within periphery visual. At the current moment there are ten sighted enemy main insertion points, all mainly coming in from the mountain ranges. Enemy troops are estimated in the thousands.” Alken said, trying to keep his voice calm and confident regardless of the even more urgent news he was about to unfold.

Master Barnel took in the information with surprising grace. He gave a curt nod, gently tilting his head to a side as he exquisitely tapped a long finger blade on his chin, as he did whenever he was deep in contemplation. After a few moments, his gaze fell upon Alken again and he straightened back his head, as though unhappy with Alken’s pleading look still on him.

“What is it?” He snapped, eyes glinting impedingly towards Alken.

“Master, pardon my lack of pre-emptive knowledge... A Titan is amongst them.” Alken barely said it.

Barnel’s gaze turned into a scowl, which soon turned into a murderous, venomous glare which further cowered Alken, already visibly shaking under the forceful glance from Kaweit, who cast his look on him after his conference with the cultist ended upon hearing what Alken had just uttered.

“It seems the situation has been escalated. Alken, the brood of Biovores is at your wardship. Your main objective now is to protect the Biovores that are to eradicate the threat of the Titan. By hook or by crook.” Master Barnel commanded, his voice low and powerful.

“Yes...yes Master! I will see to it.” Alken uttered, awed and shocked by the sudden weight of responsibility upon him.

Biovores...mighty, hulking creatures capable of rendering armies to writhing, pulsating corpses. One of the many spore mines nurtured within it is as deadly as a hundred explosions, its shrapnel produced as fatal as a virus bomb being unleashed.

Alken turned and began walking out of the auditorium, his heart still fluttering wildly.
“Alken?” Master Barnel called back.

Alken stopped in his tracks, turned and faced Barnel. Alken couldn’t help but notice Kaweit looming behind Master Barnel, eyes narrowed into threatening slits.

“Yes, Master Cultist?”

“Do not fail me.” Barnel hissed, revealing needlelike teeth and a fork-shaped tongue. His eyes were narrowed into a baleful, malicious squint, piercing Alken to the bone.