Warhammer 40k: I Refuse to Be a Slaanesh Marine Chapter 17 17: The Genestealer Whisperer (Part II)

It was, without question, a psychic artifact.

The crystal lay nestled on its velvet cushion, the etched patterns within glowing with a soft, pulsing rhythm. Faint frost began to bloom on its surface, lending the stone a lethal, ethereal beauty.

I was careless, Enkidu thought. I shouldn't have co down here alone.

He surged backward in a single blur of motion, putting distance between himself and the stone. The invisible ripples in the air continued to swirl through his mind, attempting to wash away his anxiety and his focus, whispering and singing in the back of his skull.

He should have brought his battle-brothers. He should have leveled this entire enclave with lta-charges. Instead, he was trapped in a room with this woman and her stone.

He snatched up a heavy iron table and hurled it at the woman. Mid-flight, the solid tal erupted into a thousand jagged shards, redirected by an invisible force.

"Lord Astartes, resistance is beneath you."

The woman stepped through the debris with predatory confidence. She raised a hand, and Enkidu felt his own combat knife rattle in its sheath, pinned by telekinetic force. A violent psychic flare erupted from the crystal, slamming into his mind like a physical blow.

Cease.

She projected the command directly into his consciousness. She felt a massive resistance, like trying to pin down a leviathan in deep water—slippery, powerful, and prone to violent snapping.

Enkidu's fra jerked, but his feet didn't stop moving.

Damn it, the Magus cursed inwardly. Which "genius" on the council had suggested they could control an Astartes this easily? They wanted to use him as a puppet to infiltrate the upper decks, but an Astartes' ntal fortitude was leagues beyond a common mortal.

Enkidu felt the whispers becoming a torrent, a rushing river of alien will. But the impact wasn't as devastating as she hoped. Deep within the core of his soul, a dormant power was stirring, snarling at the intrusion. As he stared at the woman, her "beauty" began to peel away like wet paper. The soft, pale skin dissolved into a tough, lavender-hued hide. The elegant tiara on her brow couldn't hide the ridge of xenos bone beneath.

The long, flowing hair was nothing but a wig.

The truth was laid bare.

The Bronze Cog wasn't a hive-clan or a sanctuary for rogue tech-priests. They were exactly like the Star Children—a nest of Genestealers. One worshipped the Four-Ard Emperor; the other worshipped a predatory "Blade-Omnissiah."

Their goal was simple: isolate an Astartes and use a high-level psychic unit to turn him into a sleeper agent.

Unfortunately for them, Enkidu was also a "psychic unit."

Enkidu plunged his consciousness into the depths of his mind, imagining a vast, dark vault. In the corner lay the psychic potential he had deliberately ignored. He brushed the dust from the crate and cracked the lid.

Invisible power flooded every tendon and every drop of blood. He suppressed the light, keeping it contained, and reached out to touch the Magus's invading probe.

For a heartbeat, the physical world vanished. He saw the ship as a web of silver threads. Faint lines clustered around the plasma reactors and reclamation hubs—an inconspicuous spiderweb. Bright, pulsing threads gathered in the abandoned vaults and ventilation shafts.

He followed the threads upward, searching for the source. At the terminus of the entire network, he glimpsed a shadow—a gargantuan, many-limbed monster that defied the laws of the universe.

!!!

Enkidu recoiled instantly, pulling his mind back to the room. As he fought her off, he tried to "stain" the Magus's connection with his own energy. He failed to infect her, but he managed to wrap a subtle psychic screen around her threads.

Hm?

The Magus shuddered. She felt as if sothing had just looked at her, but no matter how she pushed the crystal, she couldn't find the source. However, the Astartes before her was finally slowing down. His movents beca sluggish.

A surge of triumph washed over her.

Avatar of the Omnissiah, the Astartes is under my sway.

Excellent. Continue. We need him to open the way to the spires.

The Elder's response was cold and clinical, but the Magus felt emboldened. Her work was bearing fruit.

"Noble Angel, stay your hand. We an no harm," she said aloud, her voice infused with a hypnotic, "sacred" charm. "This is not a battle. This is an act of worship. You are the holy guardian of the Omnissiah, and we are but followers of His Great Work. This stone is our humble gift to you."

She raised the crystal. Its facets pulsed with a light that clouded the senses.

Obey my command. Beco my thrall.

Enkidu stared at the stone, his mind flashing back for half a second to the tragic history of Fulgrim and the Laer blade. He wasn't about to serve a xenos, but a daring idea took root in his mind.

"Pathetic." The "controlled" Astartes let out a cold, sharp laugh. The killing intent was gone, replaced by a sneering, insufferable arrogance that was perfectly in character for a son of the Third Legion. "Do you know who you are speaking to, slave?"

"What?" The Magus's smile nearly faltered. "You dare—"

A shard of the broken table whistled through the air, embedding itself in the floor an inch from her foot.

"Watch your tone when addressing your master, scum," Enkidu spat. "If you stare at with those vacant eyes again, I will make you regret drawing breath."

The Magus trembled with suppressed rage. But after a mont, she slowly lowered her body, prostrating herself alongside the dazed workers.

"That is the proper stance." Enkidu ceased his physical aggression, shifting into a cold, transactional interrogation. "As a master of this vessel, everything within it belongs to and my brothers. Now, you attempt to bribe with my own property to achieve your petty ends?"

The Magus felt like she might actually faint from fury. But the mission had to succeed. The mind-control (she thought) was holding. She had to endure.

"No... no, my Lord," she said through gritted teeth. "We were rely expressing our devotion."

"Devotion? With a piece of glass that looks like industrial scrap? In my quarters, such stones are only fit to be crushed into floor-grout."

"If this stone could even be the dust beneath your feet, it would be its greatest honor, my master," the Magus said quickly. "You know our clan has always been loyal."

The stone is definitely a tracking or monitoring device, Enkidu realized. If I don't take it, she'll know the spell failed. I'll have to take it and dump it in a lead box later.

Enkidu looked at the crystal with a deep, inscrutable gaze.

"Compared to the junk you scavenge, only your ager loyalty is worth noting," he mocked. He held out his hand, gesturing for her to continue. "If you only ant to show 'devotion,' we are done. If you want to beg a favor from , this pittance is far from enough."

"Of course, Lord Angel. We have many more gifts to present. Please... wait just a mont."

She replied sweetly, though the sound of her teeth grinding was audible to his Astartes ears.