Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

"Insolent mortal!"

The blue data-stream before him flared with unmistakable fury. Its code pulsed and writhed, then coalesced into the traditional iconographic form of a Tzeentchian Greater Daemon — a vaguely humanoid figure with a lizard's head and broad avian wings.

It beat those wings and circled above Lin, sneering down at him. "Even that Techmarine never dared speak to me in such a manner. What gives you, a mere mortal, the audacity to address me so?"

"He was polite to you because he had no idea what you actually were."

Lin pointed out the truth without a shred of tact. "What's the matter — trapped here for a thousand years and not even trying to escape? Playing house with a Techmarine who didn't know the difference between a daemon and a machine spirit? And you call that a scheme? If this is the best you can manage, I'd say you're an embarrassment to that bird-headed master of yours."

Unlike the daemon-infested era of the Great Heresy, during the Age of the Great Crusade — before the great shift in the order of things — even Primarchs rarely had any concrete knowledge of the Warp or its denizens. The Imperium was still promoting the Imperial Truth, and daemons were officially held not to exist.

The occasional daemonic incursion into realspace was simply filed away as xenos activity and forgotten. It was no surprise at all that Sergeant Heipa had mistaken this daemon for a machine spirit. What Lin found more interesting was why this particular daemon was here in the first place.

His words had their intended effect. The Greater Daemon's wings thrashed as it shrieked at him in outrage. "Mortal! What could you possibly understand of my master's designs?! My master's plans interlock perfectly — every piece fits every other piece without flaw! My presence here is equally part of my master's grand design! The depth of meaning behind it is far beyond the comprehension of a worm like you!"

It circled Lin, undisguised hunger gleaming in its eyes. "As it happens, I have been confined here for a full thousand years. A thousand years of surviving on nothing but the cold, dead energy fed in from outside — utterly unsatisfying. Today I shall treat myself. I will devour your soul, you presumptuous little mortal!"

With that, the Tzeentchian Greater Daemon impatiently seized control of its own data-streams and coiled them around Lin, attempting to trace backwards along his code and force its way into his body through the data-lines. Lin, for his part, couldn't be bothered to resist. He let the daemon do as it pleased — and even proactively opened his access permissions.

The Greater Daemon plunged in eagerly. It went in fast, and came back out faster. In the very next second it came screaming back out of Lin's body.

Smoking from head to foot, the Greater Daemon stared at Lin with an expression equal parts fury and raw terror.

"You're a Blank?!" it shrieked at him. "Why didn't you say so?!"

"I figured you'd ask."

Now it was Lin's turn to press forward. The Greater Daemon retreated in a panic, step by frantic step. "What happened to all that swagger? You're supposed to be a Tzeentchian Greater Daemon — master of fate and destiny. Don't tell me you have no idea what's coming next for yourself?"

The Greater Daemon steeled itself. It closed its eyes, straightened its neck, and struck a posture of dignified resignation — chin raised, throat bared. "Kill me then. We daemons cannot truly die! Mark my words, mortal — I will return for you someday!"

Lin raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. He hadn't expected a Tzeentchian Greater Daemon to have quite that much backbone.

Though, thinking about it — this daemon's physical form in realspace had almost certainly been destroyed by the veteran now entombed in the Dreadnought, which was presumably what had forced it to take refuge inside the machine as a digital ghost. From the daemon's perspective, the Dreadnought was less a hiding place and more a prison cell.

Sergeant Heipa had presumably never had the power to be possessed. And Lin, as a Blank, was entirely beyond its reach. Lin suspected the daemon had been desperately waiting for an excuse to get back to the Warp and respawn for quite some time now.

Under any other circumstances, Lin would not have let a daemon off so easily. Unfortunately, he had neither Mechanicus exorcism incense on hand, nor a specially modified Servitor looping Omnissian prayers through a vox-horn at full blast.

With no means to put the Greater Daemon through the proper ritual torment, Lin simply wrote a quick antivirus program. Time was short — he'd just send this Tzeentchian on its way directly.

But the instant Lin's antivirus program made contact with the Greater Daemon, the daemon shot into the air like a startled cat.

"No no no!" it shrieked, scrambling away. Lin stared after it, thoroughly baffled.

"Weren't you just asking me to kill you? Why are you running?"

"W-was I?" The Greater Daemon still seemed uncertain. It crept carefully forward and prodded the antivirus program with one claw — then immediately went screaming back across the room. "No no no!"

Lin watched its bizarre behaviour for a moment, then made a decision. He swapped out his custom-written antivirus program for the standard generic version common to the Forge Worlds.

The Greater Daemon immediately lit up. "Yes yes yes!" Riding a surge of dramatic, all-or-nothing resolve, it broke into a dead sprint toward the generic antivirus program, apparently intent on hurling itself headlong into oblivion.

That confirmed it. Lin immediately swapped the generic version back for his own.

The abrupt change made the Greater Daemon scream. It fought with every ounce of its strength to kill the momentum it had built up, and barely managed to screech to a halt right in front of Lin's custom program.

It stared at Lin with a look of profound suspicion and dread. "Are you a servant of the Corpse-God, or a lackey of the Star-Gods? What sin could I possibly have committed to deserve crossing paths with something like you?!"

Lin latched onto those words immediately. He regarded the daemon with keen interest. "So? The cost of returning to the Warp is more than you can pay?"

"It's worse than that!" the Greater Daemon wailed — but then quickly dropped its voice and adopted a more conciliatory tone. "How about this: let me go, and before I leave I will answer nine questions for you. Anything I know, I will tell you freely."

"Why nine questions?"

"It is the rule of the Architect of Fate," the Greater Daemon said, pulling a pained face. "If I break that rule, then unless the Architect of Fate himself grants a personal exception, even if I return to the Warp, he will not resurrect me."

"Fair enough. Then tell me why you refuse to let me kill you."

"That one I cannot answer!" the Greater Daemon shrieked again.

"Then tell me the true name of the Architect of Fate."

"You..." The daemon was beginning to seethe. "You never intended to let me go at all!"

"I am asking questions, am I not?" Lin spread his hands. "If you keep ruling things out on your end, there's not much I can do."

"Schemes! I can tell you what schemes my master has laid against the Primarchs! I can tell you my true name — bind me to you forever so I can never betray you! Or you could forge me into a weapon and I will serve you from within it!"

The Greater Daemon pleaded desperately. "Just let me go, and I will — ah, ah — I CURSE YOU, Blank! I curse you with my very life, an eternal curse that will follow you forever!"

"Relax, it'll only sting for a moment. Count the water stains on the ceiling — it'll be over before you know it."

Lin activated his custom antivirus program and offered a consoling smile. "Look on the bright side — maybe your death is part of the plan too."