Glimmer of Akros

Aionos surveyed the desolate landscape, a silent question hanging heavy in the air. 'How long has it been?' Time had become a meaningless concept in this broken world. The once-vibrant cities were reduced to skeletal remains, silent testaments to a civilization eradicated. The vastness stretched before him, not a single soul stirring in the wasteland.

A hollow victory. Aionos, the last survivor, had driven back the Tyranid swarm, purging the planet of the monstrous invaders. Yet, staring at the ruins of his world, a crushing emptiness gnawed at him. He had saved the planet, but at what cost?

A bitter truth echoed in Aionos' mind: "Vengeance leaves only an empty echo." The saying, once scoffed at, now resonated with a soul-crushing clarity. He had purged the Tyranids, liberated the planet, yet the victory felt hollow. He was surrounded by the ruins of his world, the silence broken only by his own ragged sigh.

The air, though breathable, lacked the sweetness of pure oxygen, mirroring the emptiness that gnawed at him. Aionos, the last survivor, stood alone in a world saved, but utterly devoid of life.

A flicker of movement sliced through the oppressive silence. Aionos' head snapped upwards, his gaze locking onto a speck in the distance that grew rapidly larger. It was an aircraft, unlike any he'd ever seen, sleek and purposeful with markings he didn't recognize. Adrenaline surged, replacing the numbing emptiness with a jolt of alertness. He raised his legendary blade, the weight a comfort in the face of the unknown.

The craft descended with an unsettling quiet, settling onto the ruined ground with a puff of displaced dust.

A hatch hissed open, and a figure emerged, bathed in the harsh sunlight. A gasp escaped Aionos' lips. Clad in golden armor that gleamed like a captured star, the figure radiated an otherworldly power. Long, flowing black hair streamed behind him, and his eyes, even from afar, glowed a powerful light. Psychic energy crackled around him, a tangible presence that sent shivers down Aionos' spine. This was no mere warrior; this was a being of legend, a deity amongst men.

"An unfortunate fate, this planet had." boomed a voice that resonated with power, emanating from the armored figure. The Emperor of Mankind, a being spoken of only in praise and hushed reverence, had arrived.

The Emperor's voice, though powerful, held a warmth that surprised Aionos. "My child," it rumbled, the words echoing across the ruins, "I have come to take you back." A millennium had passed since Aionos' disappearance, a millennium the Emperor had spent searching. Now, standing before the husk of a world, he finally found his lost son. A smile, the kind that could shift the fate of the Imperium, graced the Emperor's face.

This wasn't just a reunion, it was the rediscovery of a masterpiece, a son forged in the fires of war and shaped into humanity's ultimate weapon. Aionos, however, remained a cipher. The hero, hardened by solitude and haunted by victory, would have to decide if this golden figure offered salvation or a new kind of war.

Aionos' lips twitched, a hint of a smile that never quite reached his eyes. A scoff rumbled from his chest. 'Ha,' it echoed, a single, humorless sound. 'To think that fragile human would become...' His gaze flicked across the Emperor's imposing form, taking in the golden armor and the psychic energy that crackled around him. A grudging respect flickered within him. '...this.'

The memory surfaced, sharp and clear: the Emperor, a figure radiating hope in a galaxy drowning in darkness. Back then, Aionos had scoffed at the man's ambition, seeing him as naive and limited. Millennia, it seemed, had brought a different kind of change.

The Emperor was no longer the man Aionos remembered, but something more. A god amongst mortals, perhaps. The question hung heavy in the ruined air – was this a reunion, or a confrontation between relics of a bygone era?

"You don't need to address me as your child, Emperor of Mankind. I still have my memories." Aionos walked towards the emperor.

"So it seems, you've worked hard, defending this planet." The Emperor patted his shoulder.

Aionos didn't know how to feel about the Emperor displaying this kind of closeness, it was unusual. He didn't paint him to be the type of person to be affectionate.

A curt exchange, more of a nod than a conversation, and Aionos followed the Emperor towards the aircraft. As it rose, a tremor ran through him, a final goodbye. He cast one last, lingering look at the ruined sprawl that was Eldengard. Each cratered building, each twisted shard of metal, held a memory: a fierce battle won, a shared laugh with a comrade, a stolen moment of tenderness with Lily. He reached up, his fingers brushing the worn leather cord around his neck. Lily's necklace, a simple silver pendant engraved with a single blooming flower, was cool against his skin. It would be the last tangible reminder of Eldengard, of the humans who had called it home.

The alien craft skimmed through the atmosphere, breaching the ravaged world's thin barrier into the inky vastness of space. A million stars, a sight long forgotten, greeted him. In the distance, a colossal starship, dwarfing the Emperor's vessel, shimmered with an artificial light. As they docked, a wave of unease washed over Aionos.

This gleaming behemoth, a testament to the Imperium's might, was a far cry from the world he remembered. A world saved, yes, but at what cost? As he stepped onto the vast deck of the starship, the weight of his past, the emptiness of his victory, and the uncertainty of his future pressed down upon him, heavier than his own blade.

As the damaged blue marble of Akros dwindled into a distant speck, Aionos heaved a ragged breath. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, a flicker of steel in his gaze that belied the Emperor's warmth. His vengeance might be sated for the Tyranids, but a new fire ignited within him.

Gripping his legendary blade tighter, he swore a silent oath. He would return. Time was meaningless now, a concept lost in the desolate years. But return he would, to this world that held the ghosts of his past and the embers of a future he now dared to dream of.

Akros, once a testament to despair, now became a beacon of hope. He envisioned a world reborn, the choked skies replaced with the brilliant azure he remembered. Lush greenery, once trampled by war, would return, a canvas for his weary feet to tread. He craved nights unblemished by pollution, a sky ablaze with a million stars, a sight he'd almost forgotten.

The eradication of the Tyranids was just the first chapter. Aionos, the last son of Akros, now carried the weight of a new purpose – to become not just a warrior, but a redeemer. The galaxy might have a new Emperor, but Eldengard would have its own legend, a legend whispered on the wind, a legend who promised a sky blue once more.

———[Chapter End]———

Dang 6 days since the last update. Sorry about that I was engrossed in reading a d doing other stuff.

I've got a month till summer break is over so I'll try and focus on both of novels.