I sat on a black throne of skulls, staring into a sea of endless stars. Dressed in a black uniform with a red cape and an eyepatch over my right eye—an eye I might not have even had. Because when I closed the other, I saw the world differently. Darker. More sinister. At my side, sheathed, was something I knew all too well: the Gravity Saber. Slowly, I began to grasp what was happening as a strange bird landed on my shoulder and began to squawk.
I slowly and carelessly rose from the throne, pushing myself up with the armrests. I walked with measured steps to the helm. My hands gently brushed the wooden spokes, as if greeting the ship. Then I grabbed them firmly and looked around the dark, ominous bridge of the vessel, where here and there crimson-lit monitors flickered—monitors that should have been operated by a crew. But now, they remained on the edge of solitude.
"Not long now," I whispered.
"ARCADIA," I said louder, and the growl of ancient extraterrestrial technology stirred the ship. The engines vibrated and flared red, shaking off dust. Dimensional cannons began to rotate around the ship, seeking a target that wasn't there. Around the ship, thick, heavy black fog began to spread, slowly cloaking the hull.
"Full speed ahead," I added, and the engines burst into flames, accelerating the ship violently, leaving the black fog behind. One by one, the ship's systems began to awaken. The pirate flag started to flutter. More cannons roused from their long sleep. Screens began to glow in different colors, each symbolizing something different. The air on the bridge stirred as another device activated. My brown hair fell over my eye as I gazed into the beauty of the endless night.
I glanced at a nearby screen and, with a few clicks, activated a holographic map of the galaxy—clusters of planets, solar systems, nebulas, and much more. I searched for the first nearby inhabited planet. I wanted to find a crew before trouble found me. I set course for the planet Calth. The name meant something to me, but I couldn't quite remember what.
I set the course, and the ship—as if it had a mind of its own—began to turn to starboard. The engines spewed flames behind us, tearing a hole through the dense black fog. I sat back on the throne as the ship entered faster-than-light speed, observing my body. I felt strange—this body was different. Somehow, I felt like I could face an entire army on my own and not even break a sweat. My gaze drifted to the flashes beyond the panoramic glass. They appeared and vanished in fractions of a second—stars, according to the computer, passing by at an unimaginable speed.
I closed my eyes and felt it—an entity that wanted me to follow. It tempted me with power. But the moment I opened my eyes, black mist hung around me, cutting me off from the presence and hiding me beneath its shroud. Whatever it was, it was not friendly. The ship, sensing my unease, released more fog, hiding itself even further. It now resembled a black cloud traveling at unquantifiable speed. According to the computer, we would reach the planet in 20 minutes. I looked at my hand, around which the mist was forming.
"Dark Matter," I whispered under my breath, playing with the cloud around my hand.
Suddenly, I felt a presence. With a swiftness I never knew I had, I drew a pistol from a holster on my other side and aimed it at my "companion's" head. I stood from the throne and looked at my guest. Was it Miime? No. It was a woman from the Nibelung race—short green hair, a long greenish coat or maybe a dress, and the same large, empty eyes. She tilted her head, as if to study me from the side. Seeing her, I understood she was responsible for my engines. I holstered the pistol and sat back down. She stood by my side, gazing into the stars. The speed gradually slowed, and space outside the window began to reform. The stars slowed and froze in place, planets formed and revealed their beauty.
We entered the system—but it was not a peaceful arrival. There was battle, fire, blood, and death. Above Calth, a massacre raged, slaughtering one side. I stood and walked to the helm as I watched the fight. The dimensional cannons started to spin, the barrels glowing red-hot. The flag on the ship suddenly came alive again, the Jolly Roger whipping in the solar wind.
"Can I count on you?" I asked the Nibelung.
She answered with a smile and dissolved into the air.
"Full speed ahead!"
I growled, and the engines hurled me into the heart of the conflict. As I approached, it hit me where I knew the name Calth from, where I recognized these ships—I now knew where I was. I had arrived in a very unfriendly galaxy. The blue ones were my allies, for now, and the gray and ashen ones were traitors.
The cannons began to rotate on their own, targeting enemy ships and opening up with continuous plasma fire. Enemy shields couldn't withstand the close-range attacks—those further away were luckier. As soon as I started attacking, the enemy ships locked onto me. Their weak plasma weapons did nothing to my ship. And even if they did, the mist gathered at the damaged spots, and when it cleared, the damage was gone. I jerked the wheel sharply to the right, aiming the ship on a collision course with the enemy. My skull-shaped prow smashed into a battleship, cleaving it in two. The ship released a fog screen, and inside it, we became invisible. From above the enemy, I attacked again, emerging from the mist and unleashing another volley. The Imperial ships were built for broadside combat, making them completely at my mercy. My cannons moved along rails around the ship, giving them 360-degree attack range.
"Fire," I commanded, my voice taking the lives of hundreds—maybe thousands—of heretics.
My attacks finally drew the enemy fleet's attention away from the Smurf fleet. Maneuvering between the two fleets and the wreckage, I found Papa Smurf dodging artillery and torpedoes, jumping from wreck to wreck. I flew a few hundred meters from him, but I could see him—and he could see me. I nodded and turned the wheel left to get closer. Taking the hits, I gave him time to assess and decide whether to accept my help. He finally grabbed one of the cannons. Seeing him hold on, I quickly located the largest ship in the battle and tilted my ship 90 degrees, exposing the belly to the enemy. The turn was so sharp even Papa Smurf looked like Superman flying. I twisted and turned, dodging between ships and wrecks. I felt his ominous gaze on me, as if to say I should fly more gently, but a direct hit to the port side shook the whole ship. I had destroyed maybe 60 enemy ships, but there were hundreds, if not thousands, more. I kept checking if my passenger was still hanging on, and clearly, his strength wasn't just for show.
Honor of Macragge was under boarding assault. I lowered the ship's nose steeply, almost diving at an 80-degree angle. I aimed at the enemy ship, and my engines roared again, accelerating. Fear etched itself on Roboute's face. Seeing what I was doing, I'm sure that when we meet again, he'll yell at me. We crashed into the ship—its size and mass slowed us. That was the moment the blue one had a chance to return to his ship—and he took it. As soon as he jumped into the hole from which he might have come, Arcadia's guns began to bombard the enemy ship, trying to break free from its grip.
Arcadia was piercing the enemy ship while other enemy ships fired at us. I darted left and right.
"ALL POWER TO ENGINES!" I ordered. The guns ceased, and the energy from "Dark Matter" focused on the drive. Like an arrow, we shot through the enemy ship's hull.
"Cloak," I said, and the ship was shrouded in a dark veil of black fog.
"We're running low on 'Dark Matter'," said the Nibelung, materializing beside me.
I frowned. The Smurf fleet—even though Roboute had returned to his ship faster—was still in its infancy. He was surely now fighting his way through enemies on board. I had drawn part of the enemy fleet's attention, giving them time to regroup and launch a counteroffensive. Without a pest like me, the Word Bearers could launch another full-force assault on the Ultramarines.
I looked around and steered toward a comet orbiting the planet. Completely hidden, I landed the ship on the comet and observed as the battle continued. The Ultramarines were resisting more fiercely, but not noticeably more than I expected. The loss of those 60 ships clearly didn't even faze the traitors. Their minds, infected by Chaos, likely didn't care how many forces they lost.
I sat down, crossed my arms, and calmly watched. My face showed almost no emotion, as if I were stripped of them. I knew I was killing heretics and cultists, but they were still my first kills. And yet I felt nothing. I felt indifferent toward those people.