Webway, Ilmarin
134.M32
Sanguinius
Sanguinius truly marvelled at how something so vast could exist hidden from the eyes of the Aeldari, who had ruled the Webway for over 60 million years.
The Inner Sanctum and its vestibule alone were enormous, but the ancient fortress of the Old Ones made his pride as a human and the accomplishments of his species incredibly muted.
The place was huge, probably able to hold an entire planet, and a large one at that. The prophet even commented that Sanguinius would have to fly for weeks to reach from one end of it to the other.
It was the Old Ones main stronghold in the Webway during the War in Heaven. It was from here that their forces were commanded and transferred to various fronts, and in the last days of the war, it had been hidden from both enemies and the races serving this ancient race.
He called it a fortress, even though it looked more like a hexagonal cube studded with needles, each one several tens of thousands of kilometres long.
It could probably fit an entire densely populated human system. Maybe even Ultramar. Just imagining what this place looked like at the height of its power made him feel an inner sadness, even pain, that he had not been able to see this sight and probably never would.
The gleaming white walls, illuminated by the glow of lights powered by the Immaterium, remained deafeningly empty, even though the structure itself glowed as if bathed in sunlight. The fortress should be visible halfway across the Webway but hidden from view.
Mind supposedly explained it to him during one of their first lessons. It was such a complex manipulation of the energies of the Immaterium, locked in a network of overlapping psionic arrays, that even the Aeldari at the height of their power probably could not recreate it. And those clever bastards had created, among other things, the Blackstone Fortresses.
The last year and a half he had spent here had focused mainly on the development of his psionic powers. The techniques and abilities he learnt would probably make all human psykers, including Magnus and his father, jealous. And according to his mentor, they were the basic set taught to young Aeldari right after their creation.
Compared to human ones, which focused more on raw power and crude application, they were more sophisticated while requiring much less energy. In addition, they allowed him too do mind-blowing and crazy things, such as trapping thousands of shards of divine beings and drawing energy from them to power probably the most powerful weapon in the galaxy.
With a few flaps of his wings, he flew up to a several-metre-high oval structure, inside which was a shimmering mirror of multi-coloured energy. Flying into the portal, he found himself in another place in Ilmarin, several thousand kilometres away.
The entire fortress was connected by hundreds of them, making it much easier to move around when you weren't a ball of energy like the three fragments of the Old Ones.
Another technology that the Imperium would give up at least a few systems for. However, the thought of the Imperium of Man immediately made his thoughts darken.
His father, or rather his corpse, was chained to the Golden Throne, while the presence in the Immaterium continued to power the Astronomicon. His brothers were dead or missing, his sons condemned to deal with both Black Rage and Red Thirst, and the empire was ruled by the fucking lords, the ecclesiarchy and the Mechanicus, and he couldn't even decide which were the worst.
He had hoped that with their father gone, Guilliman might be able to stabilise the empire and become the new emperor, but everything had gone to hell. His brother was as good as dead, held in stasis, wounded by that damn traitor Fulgrim.
Although whether it was truly the primarch of the 3rd Legion or a daemon that had taken over his body was a question, and not even the three ancient Old Ones knew the answer.
Flying through the empty corridors, he headed towards the forge and armoury complex hidden deep within the main structure of the fortress, where he would meet with some of the few remaining residents of Ilmarin.
Orain Droh, Arhyon Firesoul, Tarvas Eldial, and Melyth Dawnlance were four ancient Aeldari who had served his mentors since the War in Heaven. The only downside was that they could not leave the fortress, as their life force was bound to it.
That did not change the fact that their knowledge was in many ways equal to that of their masters. And Orain and Melyth were the most magnificent warriors he had ever faced or seen in action. Over 60 million years of honing their skills had not been wasted.
Arhyon and Tarvas, on the other hand, taught him alongside Mind about the Immaterium and its dangers, as well as the Webway. The former even claimed that their knowledge of chaos was equal to that contained in the Black Library of Cegorach, the Laughing God of the Eldar.
All four Eldar were also incredible craftsmen, grandmasters in their craft, who had been crafting weapons and armour, as well as vehicles, for millions of years. Ilmarin had thousands of armouries and hangars filled with equipment, much of which dated back to the War in Heaven, but the rest had been made by them.
He had also expected them to treat him with contempt, or at least look down on him, but Orain's first words shocked him, turning his entire vision of what he had become a part of upside down.
"For now, like our creators, we are your teachers, while you are our apprentice, but if our plan succeeds, you will become a master and lord to us and them."
He also had to admit that, contrary to appearances, when talking to the Aeldari, or at least these ones, he had much more in common than he had with other humans, even Fulgrim. They talked for hours about art, culture, architecture, technology, and religion. The topics were endless when he was dealing with walking encyclopaedias.
He got along great with all four of them, but he especially liked Tarvas, who had a surprisingly positive and easygoing personality for such an old man – although, of course, he didn't look it.
From hundreds of meters from the armoury, he could hear the sounds of forging and numerous machines, although the noise was not even compared to the factories of the empire. This part of the armoury was a large hall where a walker was currently being assembled.
He landed in front of the small gates leading to Orain's private forge, which slid open before him, allowing him to step inside. Both the armour and the forge were made of the same shiny white material as everything else. The only difference was the numerous machines, each much more advanced than those of the empire. Production was almost completely automated.
In the middle of the forge, with his wraithbone hammer in his hand, stood his teacher, who was rhythmically striking some elongated object placed on an anvil decorated with runes.
With each strike, warp energy flashed, and the air carried the sound of an exceptionally resonant bell.
Not wanting to interrupt his work, he looked around the forge itself, but he had been here so often that he knew it almost by heart. Here and there, several weapons appeared on the walls, both for melee and ranged combat.
Finally, he was torn from admiring their skilful workmanship by the voice of the Eldar.
"Sanguinius, my dear apprentice. You are here at last. Your weapon is ready." The man said in a serene, calm tone, holding out a four-metre yellow-and-white spear, about a metre longer than the primarch himself.
Sanguinius approached him and, taking the weapon in his hands, looked at it carefully. It was made entirely of wraithbone. But the shape seemed oddly familiar to him.
He lifted his head and looked at the Eldar, "It looks just like Aeglos."
Orain nodded, "That's right. In the future, you will wield the Spear of Destiny. This is only a temporary weapon, but it is good for getting used to fighting with a spear of this size."
Sanguinius looked at him in surprise, slightly raising an eyebrow. "You are exceptionally certain of that. It is possible that I will never be able to unlock the seal on Aeglos. It seems practically impossible."
The ancient Aeldari stepped closer and, despite the more than half-metre difference in their height, placed his hand on his shoulder and said in a firm and confident tone. "I admit that when Prophet told us who they had chosen as champion, I was convinced that they were making a mistake."
"I admit that I had hoped and expected that only someone of my race could fulfil this honour. However, I know now that it was impossible, for our race has become too proud and arrogant. But, I do not claim that your race are not any better."
"You, however, are different," he said, and clenching his fist, he lightly hit the primarch's chest with the side of it. "You have a heart that beats not only for yourself but for others. A sense of justice, a desire but also a determination to change this sick galaxy for the better, and you are able to die for it. Or rather, you died for it."
"Thank you, Orain. These words mean a lot to me, really. Coming from someone so wise and experienced, they sound different." Sanguinius replied, feeling the warmth filling him. It was good to have someone who had faith in you.
The Eldar smiled slightly, but after a moment his face turned serious. "Let me finish. As I said. If there is anyone who will ever lift this bloody spear, I believe it will be you. I see greatness in you, the same greatness I once saw in my race, which was squandered."
"The spear is one thing, but your armour is ready as well. I still had to repaint it. The original colour of the wraithbone wouldn't suit you."
The Ancient Armourer led him to one of the walls, where, with a wave of his hand, he pulled back a panel in the wall, revealing an incredibly elaborate golden armour inside. It was clearly a mix of Eldar and human craftsmanship, and unlike his old Primarch armour, it was less massive and bulky.
"Come on, I'll help you put it on," Orain said, walking over and taking the main breastplate in his hands. To Sanguinius' surprise, the armor was exceptionally easy to put on. Less than a minute passed, and everything was in place.
He took a few steps and moved his arms, testing its mobility, and had to admit he was surprised. The armour itself was incredibly light and hugged his body while also being very malleable, hardly restricting his movement.
The Ancient Eldar took a closer look at him, walking around him, nodding as if to himself and muttering something under his breath a few times.
"It'll do for now," he finally concluded.
"For now?" Sanguinius asked in surprise. "This isn't the final version?"
Orain looked at him as if he had insulted him, then with a sigh shook his head in disapproval.
"My boy, if this was the best I could do after millions of years of perfecting my craft, I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror. This is just the first prototype. A reworked Aeldari armour, or rather my version of our armour, without that stupid oblong helmet."
Sanguinius nodded with a smile playing on his lips, "Indeed, those helmets look ridiculous."
"Thank you for the armour and weapons. They'll come in handy on my next hunt," he added a moment later, approaching his new spear leaning against the wall.
Orain looked at him more closely, his expression immediately becoming serious.
"Be careful. In the Immaterium, you never know what you'll encounter. One moment you might be surrounded by nothing but wild energies, and the next you might be looking at a Greater Daemon standing before you, or the God of Chaos himself."
The Primarch shook his head slightly. "Relax. I'm careful. Besides, this is more of a technology hunt. Seeker showed me a place where I could find SCTs from my race's Golden Era Technology."
Orain nodded, "I have to admit that your race had a few, dare I say, really fucked-up technologies at that point, like those planet-sized mechanical serpents or nanoswarms."
"I'd like to see that, although perhaps not as destructive an aspect of this technology." Sanguinius sighed, while sadness filled him at the thought of how much his race had lost.