Zander
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Chapter 64: The First to Fall
🕑 Added 2025-04-13 23:07:14 +0000 UTC
In the quiet reaches of the galaxy, far from Earth and the rising glory of Terra, there was a world called Threxis-Var.
Its skies shimmered with soft blue light from its twin moons. Its cities stretched across the clouds like silver bridges and crystalline towers. The people of Threxis-Var the Kairakh, were a race of thinkers. They knew no war. They had no gods. They sought knowledge, peace, and understanding.
For thousands of years, their world flourished. Disease was cured. Hunger ended. They sent ships to nearby stars, not with weapons, but with art and science. They believed they were alone in the universe, and they believed that was a gift.
But then, the dreams began.
At first, it was subtle. A scientist would wake up trembling, remembering a voice that promised to show her the secret to bending time. A musician would play a song that made people cry for days, but he couldn’t remember how he wrote it. A painter would create a portrait of a creature no one had ever seen, but all felt afraid of.
The Kairakh didn’t know it yet, but the veil between the physical world and the Warp, the Immaterium, had grown thin above their skies.
And something was watching.
It whispered.
It tempted.
It waited.
Over time, more and more of the Kairakh fell under its influence. The scientists started building machines that didn’t follow the laws of physics. The artists painted scenes of madness. Philosophers began preaching about "the four voices behind the stars."
Some resisted. They called for calm. For reason. But their words fell on deaf ears.
The people no longer cared about peace or knowledge. They wanted more. More power. More feeling. More meaning, even if it meant pain.
Then the real horrors began.
Towers became temples. Music turned into screams. The skies turned red. Oceans boiled. The Kairakh, once so proud of their reason, surrendered to chaos. Entire cities held mass sacrifices. Children were offered to things that no one could see, but everyone could feel.
And from the center of this madness stood a man, Emlarek Vesh. Once the greatest mind of his world, he now stood twisted and changed, his body pulsing like it breathed on its own. His eyes glowed with unholy light.
He spoke to the broken crowd:
> “We searched for truth. And we found it. The universe is not made of logic, it is made of hunger. Of desire. Of gods. And now we belong to them.”
Behind him, thousands screamed in joy and agony.
The Kairakh were no more.
They had become something else. Something monstrous.
Servants of the Warp.
In orbit, a scout ship from a nearby alien race watched in horror. They recorded what they saw, rituals, twisted machines, cities covered in symbols that bled. When the scout ship returned to their home, only one of the crew had survived. His hair had turned white. His hands shook.
“the-they are corrupted by evil gods” he said. “And they are already among us.”
***
Across the stars, darkness spread.
And on Earth, now called Terra, the Emperor of Mankind stood in silent thought. He had felt the shift. He had felt the change. The Warp stirred. It had begun to hunt.
He stood on the balcony of his palace, looking out over the golden city of Rome, now transformed into the heart of a growing empire. Below, Space Marines trained. Ships launched into orbit. People lived in peace for the first time in generations.
But above the stars, something waited.
The Emperor clenched his fist.
> “The galaxy is not empty,” he said to himself. “And it will not remain silent.”
He turned away.
> “They must be warned. And we must be ready.”
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