Warhammer : Machinist and The Exile

The shattered plains of Luna fell eerily silent as the warp rift flickered. Deprived of the sorcerous anchors that had fed its instability, the gaping wound in reality faltered, its coruscating light spasming.

Daemons shrieked as their forms destabilized, limbs turning to mist and ichor as the material realm rejected them. Pink Horrors, Flamers and other tzeentchian daemon melted away in howling agony, their howls fading as they were wrenched back into the Immaterium.

Thousand Sons sorcerers, recognizing the shift, gave swift, curt orders to their surviving brothers.

"Fall back to the warp! Leave the flesh-bound to delay them!" barked a Warpcaller before vanishing into shimmering ether.

The remaining cultists and warp-mutated stragglers fought on in suicidal defiance, desperate to delay Imperial wrath. But the counterattack had already begun.

A vox burst cut across Imperial channels.

[All Imperial forces — press the assault! The enemy falters! Wipe them out!]

On the front lines, a Zaku II pilot, unwilling to be left behind in the vengeful charge, surged forward. His towering mobile suit hefted a humming power axe, charging to a towering Defiler daemon engine. The Defiler's cannon spat a shell — but it failed to breach the Zaku's shimmering energy shield.

With a bounding leap, the Zaku cleaved the warp-spawned machine in half, sending its parts crashing in a twisted heap. Cheers erupted from nearby Guardsmen, who quickly rallied and began hunting down any surviving cultists and Traitor Astartes.

Battle Shinobi CTGs broke into squads of five, each team ghosting through the ruins of battlefield, dispatching lingering enemies with monomolecular blades and silenced shots. A precise, lethal clean-up.

Surrounded by dead traitor astartes, Marius Almarich watched the field with a grim smile, the tide turning decisively.

Guilliman strode toward the rift's edge, his sword still in hand, face unreadable.

"The rift remains. It must be closed — or it will remain a fatal wound to the Imperium."

Grand Master Voldrus, his warhammer at rest, stepped beside him.

"Without Magnus, it may be possible, my lord. But we must act swiftly."

Before either could decide, Seiji dropped down beside them, landing in a crouch.

The Honor Guard instinctively braced — but lowered their weapons at Guilliman's small nod.

"Leave it to us," Seiji offered, gesturing toward the now-flickering warp rift.

Guilliman studied him for a long moment.

"Can you do it?"

"Yes," Seiji said, calm confidence in his tone. "Give us one minute to prepare."

"Then do it," Guilliman answered, stepping aside.

Voldrus exchanged a glance with the Primarch but said nothing.

Even the Grey Knights, keepers of Imperial purity, could not deny the results these exiles had achieved.

Within moments, a fresh HVL descended near the rift, its engines kicking up clouds of dust and ash. From it, a platoon of Zakus formed up, each unit hefting a long, unfamiliar weapon — a lance-like device tethered to the HVL by thick energy cables.

The HVL's hull hummed with increasing pitch, its capacitors charging.

[Sealing weapon ready, Commander,] the lead Zaku turns to Seiji as he voxed through his mobile suit's loudspeaker.

Seiji glanced to Guilliman, who gave a short, decisive nod. Seiji answered with a thumbs-up.

"Area clear. Prepare to fire in 3…2…1… FIRE!"

The Zakus' weapons unleashed beams of viridian light, crackling arcs of anti-warp energy lancing into the rift. The green light struck home and the warp rift recoiled, its edges contracting violently.

Guilliman's sharp eyes widened.

"By the Throne… it's working." Grandmaster Voldrus murmurs in disbelieve.

Seiji stepped up beside him.

"Experimental weapon, still in testing period. Inspired by the cadian pylon. We weren't sure it would hold against a full rift."

On the Solar flagship bridge, officers stared at the hololith projection.

"Sir — unknown energy pattern detected. Resealing the breach."

"Throne, it's… it's closing it!" an astropath gasped.

[Emperor's mercy… what in His name is that?] a senior vox officer whispered, watching the tactical hololith show the rift's rapid collapse.

The admiral's throat worked as he struggled for words.

"Maintain observation. Record everything."

The admiral leaned forward. "Keep all sensors locked. And get me an arch magos, now!"

Down on the field, Mechanicus units scrambled.

"Adjust auspex filters! Track those frequencies!" a Tech-Priest shouted.

Magos Lurien's servo-skulls fed data into his cogitator faster than human sight could follow. The readings made no sense.

"Not possible. This pattern… these weapon harmonics is almost at perfect synchronication. It… matches no sanctioned variant." His mechadendrites froze mid-air. An encrypted binharic cant rattled from his vox-bead.

Aboard the orbiting Imperial Navy flagship, the bridge fell into stunned silence.

On the rear lines, the Mechanicus contingent erupted into binharic chatter, tech-priests scrambling to comprehend what they were seeing. Servo-skulls transmitted data furiously.

"Unidentified technomantic pattern! Not listed in any Martian archive!" one Magos barked.

"Source unknown — energy signature inconsistent with Mechanicus-approved plasma or graviton technology!" an adept added.

Archmagos Lurien glared at the fading rift.

"Prepare to approach them. No salvage rights granted, but we must secure a specimen. Ready blessed electro-goads and envoy protocols. If nothing else, we learn what ancient heresy begot this… marvel."

"Yes, Archmagos."

Back at the front, the rift shuddered, its energy dispersing in a final pulse before collapsing entirely. Where once reality had been torn open, only charred rock and silent ash remained.

Seiji's comm crackled.

"Rift sealed. No anomalies detected."

Guilliman let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Well done."

"Begin clean-up. No tech left behind. No fallen unaccounted for." Seiji wasted no time he immediately give the order.

Exile Army, shinobi and intelligence department field agents swept the battlefield, policing every exiled corpse and scrap of equipment.

Stasis fields were erected for the wounded and dead, and no trace of their presence would remain on Luna.

Ninja medics moved swiftly, tending to the exhausted Sealing Corps and stabilizing injuries among the Shinobi.

The battle was over, but the consequences would echo long after.

On the other side of the veil, within the shimmering madness of the Immaterium, Fateweaver screeched in fury.

"Anomaly!" his left head spat. "One in one hundred and twenty-four million, and it comes to pass."

His right head chuckled bitterly, eyes narrowing as future strands frayed and snapped.

"The pattern is marred. This is not the fate Tzeentch desired."

He let out a long, croaking sigh and vanished deeper into the warp.

"Best I be absent from what comes next."