The Darkest of Heresies

The Death of Macrian

For your soul's sake, Don't die on dusk.

The Death of Macrian

(The following happens at the end of Session Dusk part.2)

(PS. Press “I Await” to hear song, for best effect open in “ny fane” and continue reading. Enjoy)

Lelouche and Macrian jumped over the palisades and ran towards their friends who had inexplicably appeared outside the now dead camp. Macrian saw Khorrl standing up and looking at him. There was this strange unfamiliar look on his face, but it disappeared as soon as he saw it. It was replaced by the good old-fashioned Gunmetall-City look with his little smiling grin. Khorrl opened his arms for a embrace and said “I’m so glad to see you!” Macrian was glad to see that they were all ok and ran to meet them. He hugged Khorrl and started saying “It’s so good to see you guys, you have to check out the town, there is a…” More couldn’t he say, because the air in his lungs was seeping out on his side instead of through his mouth.

Everything went in slow-motion as he had a flashback to his grandfather’s funeral, back on his homeworld Taalos Rubeus. He remembered the old song of sorrow that his people had passed down the generations. The song’s name was I await . The song’s meaning had forever been a mystery, but he knew the words were of great importance for the one entering the void. It had been sung in honor to the ones who had done greatness, but died in vain. Macrian had always wondered when it would be sung for him.

He looked down and saw three metal spikes protruding out from the left side of his chest. Macrian Touched his side and felt a familiar sensation as his hand got covered in warm blood, slowly but surely. He didn’t feel pain, only a great sense of shock that enveloped his mind as he sensed an aura of hate emanating from Khorrl.

He felt his body struggling against the obviously poisoned spikes, as he felt his entire body rebelling against him. Macrian tried to defend himself, but Khorrl’s “hug” had turned from a happy embrace to a death-trap. Before Macrian was able to do anything, he heard a click coming from Khorrl’s leg. He felt a sharp pain across his chest and neck as a blade slashed across his body. He felt warm and sticky blood gushing over his skin and clothing as fear gripped him. He was about to die, and worst of all, the mortal strike had come from where he had least expected it. From one of his trusted companions he sheared the most with, Khorrl.

Macrian felt his legs failing him as the muscles didn’t get the oxygen they sorely needed. His arms stopped reacting to his commands and fell limply to his sides. Before his knees failed him, he tried to say something. None of the others heard him because there was no air to pass through his vocal cords, but Khorrl’s lip reading abilities made him realize Macrian’s final word,… Why?…

Blackness ensued. Macrian felt like he was in some kind of dream-state, like his paralyzed body floated in some kind of liquid inside an endless void. His vision flared in all kinds of colors and patterns as he suddenly heard a voice. No, several voices. They were coming from all directions. Outside and inside of his head. An incoherent choir of a billion screams of eternal torment. It kept on building until Macrian thought the sound would overwhelm his sense of reality if it didn’t stop. Then came the earth-shattering silence.

He was back on Dusk again and his companions were all around him. It must have been a nightmare, thought Macrian and started walking towards them just to realize his legs started to fall apart. “Help me! I am dying, please help me!” He reached for his friends only to see his fingers and hands fall off like they were made of wet paper. Helplessly he watched his fellow compatriots, his friends, turn their back on him. They walked away, leaving him crumbling in the mud only to be consumed by flesh-eating insects and the like.

Again he woke. Macrian was starting to lose track of fantasy and reality. Now he was stretched in a way that made his body resembled an X. He was apparently just hanging in thin air, unable to move and unable to think straight as dark thoughts clouded his consciousness. Two creatures approached from either side of him. It became apparent that those were not human. The one coming from the right was enormous. It had blood-red skin, huge bat-like wings, reversed kneecaps, hooves instead of feet and two horns protruding from its skull. The one coming from the left resembled a smaller creature, but with a more purple hue to its skin. It had an extra set of arms and had both male and female reproductive organs. It had tree long purple tongues that fluttered about in unison and six horns forming a symmetrical pattern. The tongues looked like they could pierce flesh as easily as a powersword. Then they both grabbed one arm and leg and started pulling.

The mind numbing pain was unlike anything Macrian’s mind had ever conceived possible as he was slowly being pulled in half. “CHOOSE TO SERVE MY DOMAIN AND THIS PAIN WILL SUBSIDE!” Macrian understood that it was the red demon that had spoken. “I CAN GRANT YOU VENGENCE UPON THOSE WHO HAVE YOU DONE YOU HARM, SO YOU CAN RETAKE YOUR GLORY. I CAN GIVE YOU STRENGTH AND SKILLS YOU HAVE ONLY DREAMT OF”

Macrian was then shoved a vision where he was standing In front of Khorrl who was about to attack him again, but this time Macrian was holding a huge and bizarre sword in his hand. With that sword he swung once and cut both Khorrl’s sword and arm in half and slicing into his stomach spilling his blood and guts on the ground before finally decapitating him as easily as cutting a rotten fruit in half. He finished it by stomping the head just to make it pop like an watermelon and spat on it. Then he saw himself standing gloriously upon a battlefield where he was leading an army that slaughtered his enemies before him and conquered new land in his name.

His vision suddenly aborted by another more seductive voice. “Forget about this world of vengeance and trivial pursuit of glory". It was the four-armed demon who spoke to him, but before continuing it slid its tree tongues underneath his skin like a hot knife through butter. Adding to the pain but also excreting some kind of liquid to enhance his senses. I will grant your deepest desires and wishes. I can let you see loved ones long gone and grant you riches and power beyond your wildest imagination.

This creature showed him a world where his parents had been brought back to life, embracing him with the love only parents could muster. Then he was sitting on a throne made by solid gold and jewels in all the colors of the rainbow. He was wearing the finest power-armor he had ever laid his eyes on, not so different from the armor he had seen the Emperor wearing in stained glass paintings and the like. He was also surrounded by the most beautiful women he had ever seen. In front of him was a buffet of the most delicious food he had ever smelled and the most marvelous drinks he had tasted.

“WHAT WILL IT BE MORTAL? HOW WILL YOU CHOOSE TO SERVE? TO WHOM WILL YOU PLEDGE YOUR ALLEGIANCE FOR ETERNITY?”

Macrian felt every twist and turn the tongues of the purple demon did within him and the fact the red demon had crushed his arm and leg to a smudge didn’t help either. He mustered all of his willpower. He thought of the green planes and beautiful red oceans on Taalos Rubeus. He thought of all the fun and relatively happy moments he had experienced with his comrades in Red Steel. He remembered the good conversations with Zarldar Loothas and the wise words he had to offer in times of need. The tense encounters he had survived only with help of Solomon Demeter and his wits. The black Gard humor of Jethro Tull, that more than ones had lifted Red Steels spirit before entering a particular dangerous situation. Macrian remembered Lelouche Strata’s Wonderful singing and prayers that most certainly had to have raised their worth in the eyes of The Emperor. But most of all he thought of the times he and Khorrl had laughed together, argued together and fought together. He remembered the disgust he had felt for him when they first met and how it had gradually grown into a friendship one should look long after. All this he remembered and a single tear was shed before his mind started to succumb.

In a last effort of resistance, he did the only thing he could do. He fought through the pain and forced himself despite the demonic bindings cast upon his body and whispered a prayer to the one and only father of all, humanities savior, Caesar Imperator, The Emperor of Man.

Pierce my flesh, Break my bones, Take my life
These matters not
In my sacrifice, ye of the Dark Gods shall know Defeat
For even in Death shall we be triumphant in His name.

The Red colored demon responded by tearing of his arm and buried its claws in Macrian’s Stomach, ripping out his intestines. It did this while laughing morbidly at his puny attempt at resisting their soul-harvest.

It was then that a blinding white light entered the area and enveloped all tree in a blazing inferno. The demons screamed as their flesh almost seem to burn from the inside which can only be compared to the damage inflicted with a sanctified multi-melta. Macrian didn’t think he would be able to handle even more pain than he already was, but when the flames reached him they felt cool and soothing, like they were almost trying to comfort him. That’s when he saw it. A huge two-headed eagle with a bright Halo flying towards him. The Eagle wrapped its mighty claws around him and lifted him upwards towards infinitely bright light.

Macrian woke up gasping for breath. He tried to stand, but quickly found out he was tied down to a three. He looked around a saw Loothas staring ominously at him.
“What have you to say for yourselves?” Loothas asked with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Macrian was about to tell everything, but his mind had slowly erased the traumatizing memories to protect itself from going utterly insane. “Was it all just a very bad dream?”

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