Welcome one and all, to the Theatre of Illogic. Here is where you will find the compiled ramblings of one of the least sane writers to ever walk the savage land of Terra. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you...Rabbit!

I'm sure you all know how it works - brain goes in, writing comes out, public reads and enjoys (or not) and then leaves comments if they feel so inclined. Just as a little caveat, most of the writing I do is science fiction and set in the popular Warhammer 40,000 universe. I'm an avid fan of the game and the background behind it. Anyway, it can be a little dark and depraved at times, or at the very least a little confusing if you're not familiar with the source material. I ask that you bear with me, dear reader.

And now begins the ouverture!

Beacon, Part the First

Ash. That was the only thing remaining of what was once a peaceful village of Emperor-fearing citizens on Volres, fourth planet in the Arvandis system. They hadn't wanted it to end in bloodshed but the people of the village had resisted and so they were given no quarter as befitted enemy combatants in battle. As the Enlightened One taught, heresy begets retribution in the same way that fire begets ash, so it was only fitting that the gaunt, armoured warriors now securing these ruins were surrounded by it. Through the smouldering fires of battle (if one could call it such, for it was a mockery of a battle) and pre-dawn glow, an observer would likely be able to pick out faint details, traces of battles across hundreds of worlds in the thousands of years of life they had experienced. A little closer and they may have been able to pick out the standard, a daemonic maw superimposed over an eight-pointed star.

Any closer and they would be dead.

Not that their lives had any true meaning, thought the Allegiant Letheis as he trudged through the centre of the once peaceful village. He knew, as did every other member of the Word Bearers Legion of Chaos Space Marines, that the only life with any true siginficance was one lived in the service of Chaos, fighting for honour, glory, and to prove one's strength and worth. Even in the days of the Blind Crusade that had been the only life and Letheis had embraced it with reckless abandon. He was a mere battle brother then, barely worthy of being considered an allegiant of the faith. Now he returned to the realm of the blind a powerful captain in service of his Primarch, his ancient red power armour glistening oddly as he held his hand over the pedestal situated in the centre of the village square.

Removing his gauntlet gingerly and with reverence, Letheis produced an ornate combat knife from its sheath at his waist and slit his palm open in a swift and practiced motion. Even as the jolt of discomfort shot up his arm, a mere few drops of blood spilled onto the stone edifice as the wound began to close. Nothing happened at first, but as the seconds ticked by, words began to appear on the stone in an ancient and powerful language, written with the symbolic element of life. Their significance was powerful to the Allegiant.

Only the Blood of the Enlightened, the script read and he repeated the words aloud for the other Chaos Marines to hear. They dropped into full battle readiness immediately, closing ranks and forming a perimeter around the pedestal as a deep rumble issued forth from the depths of the world. The ground cracked and groaned as the stone seemed to drag itself aside, compelled by a will not entirely its own. While it moaned in protest at this unnatural desecration the Chaos Marines stood unmoved, ever watchful for the arrival of enemies. As distressing as it was, there were those in the universe who did not have the heart or the mind to comprehed the grandeur of the Word Bearers' vision and many heretics sought to undo their work or turn their knowledge and secrets to selfish purposes.

Finally, the groaning and shaking subsided. The stone pedestal had moved aside to reveal a passage leading underground, just as the old texts had claimed (though old was relative in the warp/realspace overlay of the Maelstrom). Taking a good look at the rising sun, Letheis conveyed a single swift gesture to the other Word Bearers and they disappeared in unison into the darkness below.

Beacon, Part the Second

"Word Bearers, take up positions! All squads fan out and block our flanks! Defensive formation! ALL PRAISES!"

In unison, the sharp report of around thirteen bolters filled the air and shattered the silence of the cavern. The creatures that had tried to assailed the Word Bearers' strike force were forced to cover their eyes and ears as the deafening noise and blinding light reverberated throughout such an enclosed space. The Chaos Marines had no such limitation, their genetically enhanced eyes and ears compensating, and exploded into action. The first squad scattered and formed two distinct combat groups, their bolters trained on the temporarily stunned creatures while a second squad stood on standby in the center of the vast cavern. When their assailants recovered and saw only a group of five Chaos Marines standing without any visible weapons, their fear turned to foolish bravado and they charged on, goaded by the lashes of the slavemasters at their back.

Allegiant Letheis simply smiled. It was time to see how powerful these creatures really were.

Instead of bracing themselves and waiting for the charge to hit home as some warriors may have done, the five Marines stationed in the center of the cavern released an utterly inhuman roar and charged the enemy, running full tilt towards the oncoming mob. To the shock of the slavemasters they cut through warriors with relative ease as they ran past. One grabbed a creature and split it in twain with a single chop before supping from this impromptu goblet. Another leaped into the air and pounced on a group of spear-wielding creatures, raking them with talons slick with both human and alien blood.

The Marines who had taken up flanking positions reacted instantly and their bolters issued another sharp report as they began to take pieces out of the oncoming enemies that flowed around their counterattacking comrades. In the strobe lights of bolter fire, Letheis could pick out the mutated features of the sorry creatures. A face split in twain, a feathered body, ruined wings that would never fly, a useless third leg, flippers and gills that inexplicably breathed air, and those were the least of the Chaos blessings. All had been human once, perhaps, or any number of other Xeno creatures but now all were unified in their service to Chaos. Or at least, what they thought was Chaos. The truth is, these unfortunates had been punished for their weakness of blood and of character. In the grand order of the Dark Gods, there were none higher than the Word Bearers (save perhaps the Greater Daemons and Daemon Princes, of course) and it was by virtue of their enlightened status that they purged the armies of the Dark Gods of all weakness. This was one such weakness; these creatures had lost their minds and could no longer tell friend from foe. They had lost their cohesion, their ability to fight alongside others and this made them utterly useless.

Almost of their own accord, the lightning claws built into Letheis' power armour slid from their sheaths. He fancied that they were responding to their master's ire as the familiar glow of the incandescent power fields filled the chamber. With remarkable speed, he charged into the fray, becoming a tempest of crimson armour and deadly talons that killed with every stroke. Ironically, his arrival came not a moment too soon as his "specially enhanced" Assault Marines were in danger of being overrun. Superior though they may be, there were still too many of the mutants to make good their escape towards the real objective. Slowly his eyes turned towards the leaders of the ragtag band of mutants, the biggest of the lot, who served as slavemasters controlling the smaller ones. They were large and heavily muscled, sporting all manner of tusks and tentacles that they used to whip the others and urge them forwards. Letheis simply pointed towards them and the Marines seemed to understand, growling some sort of inhuman acknowledgement as they began to plough through the melee towards the end of the lines and the leader beasts that lay beyond.

The Allegiant wanted to join them. He wanted to earn his share of the Dark Gods' approval and feel the visceral joy that came from ending the lives of these pitiful excuses for faithful, dragging their screaming souls into the Warp to be judged. But he knew also that he was a commander and that he could not afford to take unnecessary risks. Not when his goal was close at hand and the dream he had cherished for so long was about to be fulfilled. Letheis was forced to content himself with slaughtering these pitiful minions in an attempt to bleed the mutant forces enough to clear the way for his Marines to slay their foes. As his lightning claws danced back and forth, raking the bodies of the mutants as they came at him, he could not help but smile in anticipation of greater things to come.

Soon, he thought, I shall be whole again.

Beacon, Part the Third

Laughter filled the caverns as the Word Bearers prepared to mop up the last remaining mutants, silencing them with shots to the head or slicing through them with chainswords as they turned to save their own sorry skins. It was harsh and yet childish at the same time, the air of innocence that filled the laughter only served to enrage Letheis even more. Such impudence! Who dared to mock a member of the greatest of the Chaos Legions, who had braved the perils of the Warp time and time again and emerged victorious? He entertained the fancy of sending the Possessed Marines after the source of his displeasure but they seemed mysteriously quiet and subdued, as if the desire for slaughter had suddenly left them. They seemed very human, as it were.

“Oh, I wouldn’t consider it if I were you”, echoed a voice in his head.

“Indeed not, sister”, chimed another, “we would certainly not want to be forced to turn your pets against you, especially since they are one of your most valued allies.”

“Besides”, added the third, “you would not be able to stomach the power we have to offer you if you could not prove yourself in the fires of battle, He-who-is-not-yet-feared.”

It wasn’t so much the nature of the implied insult (Letheis had heard worse leveled at him in his very-long lifetime) that bothered him but the air of childish innocence that the three continued to use. He looked around swiftly for the source of the telepathic intrusion, knowing that anyone who could broadcast a message so potent would certainly be aware of his next question.

“Oh, of course, where are our manners”, replied an entirely different voice to the unspoken question, “we’re right behind you.”

The Word Bearer Allegiant turned around to regard three children, no more than 12 standard years old. They were all glassy-eyed with identical faces, as if they had been cast from the same mould. That strange voice that was speaking to him spoke through all three of them, as if they were all of one mind. Even if they were, such unyielding conformity in their voices and mannerisms was unheard of, unless…

“Is this more comfortable for you?”[/i] the daemon mocked, [i]“oh and, yes, I am one being in these three vessels here. You may call me Triad, for we are three.”

“You said you have power to offer me”, replied Letheis, seemingly unperturbed by the revelation, “explain yourself.”

“All in good time, Word Bearer, all in good time. But surely, after having served our dark gods for so long, you know the rules for dealing with our kind? Payment”, the last word was drawn out in a hiss.

“Payment?” Letheis looked incredulous, “you dare to tell me that my standing is insufficient to simply extract the information from these desiccated corporeal bodies of yours?”

“Yes”, replied Triad’s three bodies without a trace of fear, “you are not so powerful yet, Allegiant, that you may threaten me. Were it not for the intercession of…your patrons…on your behalf, do you think you would be even standing here conversing with me? All must pay the price to receive knowledge, even your vaunted Dark Apostles!”

“You will speak of the Apostles with respect, daemon. You are beneath them”, replied Letheis as he turned to leave, “one hundred souls should suffice and the secrets you have to offer had better be worth telling.”

“Worth telling? My dear boy, they are worth killing for. Worth dying for. Worth selling your own soul for, if you take my meaning”. Triad called to the Chaos Marines’ retreating forms, “Oh yes, there’s one thing I forgot. By killing those pesky villagers and opening the door for my escape, I would say you’ve earned ten souls at least!”

Beacon, Part the Fourth

Ninety souls, in exchange for a scrap of information that just might be the first step upon a long and bloody path – it was a steep price by any standard. The villagers the Word Bearers had butchered to reach the daemon oracle might have sufficed, but killing them was a matter of tradition. It was an old rite, dating back to the days of the Crusade that the leader of an invading Host must first sanctify the ground upon which he treads before the campaign can truly begin. Not that a battle group of twenty-four Chaos Space Marines and several bound daemonhosts could truly be considered a Host but Letheis was not one to neglect tradition.

His next priority was to find enough sacrifices and bring them back to the crucible that would receive them. Stealth and secrecy would be necessary as such a small group of Word Bearers could ill afford to attract the attention of the planet’s Imperial rulers. At least, not before the plan had been set in motion. As Letheis stalked through the remains of the village to its center and the sealed well, he noticed the stooped form of one of his Marines over some dead unfortunate. The Word Bearer turned to face his captain, wiping small runnels of blood from his mouth as he rose.

“Well met, Marius, what have you found out?”

“This one’s memories are sharp, Brother Captain”, replied Marius, “mostly of the pain and fear brought by our arrival but I believe I have found the location of the next village. It will be a mere day’s run for us, to the south in the shadow of the peaks.”

“Excellent. Tell the others to make ready, we move at once.”

Marius bowed and departed. One of the three squad leaders attached to his battle group, Letheis benefited much from his experience. After all, Marius had been awake for much longer than he had and knew the ways of the modern age far better than he. Marius had been the third person he had met upon reawakening from stasis two millennia ago, the first two having been the slave who operated the reanimation machines on Sicarius and the man he once knew as Chaplain Skola. Letheis leaned over to check the corpse and, as he had expected, its brain had been extracted. Few Marines that he knew had ever made use of the preomnor that allowed them to extract memories and genetic information by ingesting a creature’s flesh. Marius seemed to delight in doing so, both as a tracker and because he claimed it filled his soul with glorious light. Letheis tolerated his more savage tendencies because none could deny his effectiveness as a tracker or his loyalty as a friend.

Behind him twenty four Chaos Space Marines assembled, their rust-coloured power armour whirring in the silence. The five Possessed Marines sidled in behind them and the battle group was complete. Letheis raised his hand and gestured towards the southern mountain range.

“Move out!”
The response was instantaneous. The sound of thunder preceded the Word Bearers as they broke into a run across the dusty plains. There was little doubt that they would reach the base of the mountains before the next nightfall and, barring any attacks by local militia, they would have little trouble abducting ninety sleeping peasants and dragging them the entire way back. A few times Letheis looked over his shoulder, convinced that a presence was shadowing their movements, moving inhumanly fast. He fully expected to see three identical girls standing in the moon’s light whenever he turned around but that daemon oracle, Triad, was nowhere to be seen. What had he meant by his freedom, if he did not intend to leave those underground tunnels? No, Letheis decided. Triad had to be following.