Bat Sanctuary

Lion El'Jonson For Lion, it is a wound to his pride, and one that he is going to take some time to recover from. However, he still praises you and is very grateful for your ingenuity and for the fact that you risked your - much more fragile than his - life to save his. He may not throw you a big celebration, but his quiet acceptance of the fact that you are much stronger than he thought you were will linger in your daily life for years to come.

Fulgrim Fulgrim is tricky. On one hand, he is elated that you have shown such progress. On the other, he is embarrassed that he has been seen in such a humiliating situation. Honestly, he is off to find some quiet time and may even seclude himself from you after the rescue. But once it is done, he will come up with some way to show his appreciation. And worry not, it will be as perfect as it could possibly be.

Perturabo Perturabo is probably the worst of them. He already perceives the kidnapping and torture attempt as a huge slight against him, and having you save him, no matter how valiant you are, is simply adding insult to injury. He will be grumpy, not even thankful, at least for the first few days. After that, he will reluctantly say that yes, you did an admirable job of saving him.

Jaghatai Khan Khan laughs. He always knew you possessed a fighter's spirit, but now he has a chance to bear witness to it. And what a spectacle it is. You are a fury reborn, crushing those who dared to cage him and taking no prisoners. He will make sure to write about your valor once the danger has passed, after he has rushed you away, of course.

Leman Russ Leman's pride is hurt, but seeing you charging in, probably leading a band of his sons, just makes him love you more. Truly, you are a soul that completes his own. After the battle - short and bloody - the first thing he does is pepper you with kisses and sing praises. And after that, there will be a feast of feast on Fenris - all in your honor.

Rogal Dorn Dorn's bastion has been breached, and he has been taken hostage. Moreover, he is a torture victim. So when he sees his sons, led by you, breaking through the wall that he knew was structurally unsound, he smiles. Even with his bruised face, he smiles. He taught you well, and now you are about to show his captors exactly why good fortifications are of the utmost importance.

Konrad Curze Konrad is pissed. Not at you, but at the situation and at himself. Once he sees you, he barks at you to release him so he can have his fill of blood and flesh. If you ignore him, he will sulk for days afterward. But he will still bring you something questionable as a present. If you do let him loose, well, you will know exactly who you just freed.

Sanguinius The first part of saving the great angel is reining his sons in because they are ready to charge without a plan or care. The second part is reining them in once again when you breach the inner chamber and see Sanguinius beaten and bruised. Yet you manage both tasks admirably. And now you have your angel lying in bed, ready to be taken care of by you. Did he foresee it?

Ferrus Manus Holding Gorgon down is not an easy feat. Beating him up is even harder. He does not give his assailants a moment of peace, and that gives you an opportunity to strike from behind. Everything is over in an instant, and then he finally breaks free and stops because he sees you. In that moment, he is weaker than he was before. Your flesh was stronger than his steel.

Angron For Angron, being a captive is another layer of cruelty. It brings him back to a situation he thought he had escaped long ago, but now he is back where he was, exactly as helpless as before. Then he sees you charging in to save him. For the moment, everything goes quiet. And next he sees you dealing with everything in the room. The world is full of sounds and lights again, but they shine upon you and you alone.

Roboute Guilliman For once, there were no contingency plans for Roboute, so he was captured. However, despite the lack of a contingency plan, you charged in like a cavalry officer with his sons, quickly dispatching his assailants. Well, apparently everyone in the room needed to learn that underestimating you is a bad idea, including Roboute himself.

Mortarion While Mortarion does not take well to being captured, he knows he can endure. No matter what they throw at him, his foster father has probably done much worse. Yet he is surprised to see the room filling with a gas he knows he can tolerate but others cannot. Once all the assailants are on the floor, the door opens and you step in. He can tell it is you even with the mask. Just look at you, using his methods. Truly, you are his match.

Magnus the Red Holding Magnus captive is more of a psychic than a physical task. So they surround him with Blanks, which causes him great pain, but they did not count on you bringing a big old hammer to this fight. After all, magic is magic, but ten pounds of metal to the face is still ten pounds of metal to the face. After the daring, if somewhat rudimentary, rescue, you will have the great honor of taking care of your Red King and hearing his slightly feverish words of thanks directed toward you and you alone.

Horus Lupercal Horus is beyond embarrassed at seeing you and the Mournival charging in to save him, yet it still fills him with pride. Yes, you are truly worthy of him. He will, however, try never to mention that. At least not in public. In private, that is an entirely different matter.

Lorgar Aurelian Lorgar is humbled and inspired. This is proof that you truly are a saint sent into his life to light the way and always support him. Dear one, once you dispatch those miscreants, he will be sure to fall to his knees and whisper words of vehement prayer toward you, despite this being neither the time nor the place. But even if you manage to avoid the worship in the moment, prepare for it to happen at the altar once the two of you are safely out of here.

Vulkan Vulkan is beyond worried. Even beaten and tortured to the point of near death, he is worried that you are going to be hurt. And that alone gives him the strength to break free and absolutely decimate everyone in the room, all to ensure that you do not get hurt.

Corvus Corax The fact that someone managed to get ahold of Corvus, let alone capture him, is bewildering. But they may have captured the shadow, yet they are not as good at hiding it, because you and his sons were able to find him within a matter of days and are now planning the stealthy rescue operation. The kidnappers will not know what hit them, but Corvus will always know that it was you who saved him.

Alpharius Omegon How someone managed to get ahold of either Alpharius or Omegon is a mystery. But if someone got hold of the two of them, that would be a miracle. What is less of a miracle is that you are arriving as a cavalry force with a dozen lookalikes, each claiming to be the real one. So now the kidnapper is confused, and you have the element of surprise. Do not waste it, because then you will be handsomely rewarded, after the rescue mission, of course.

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Not shouting this time. Also, most likely not expecting a response. Taliesin quickened his step. The sooner they left this narrow pass behind, the sooner he could find you shelter. 

A muffled shriek. Arms locked tight around his head. 

“Taliesin!”

He stopped and repeated his earlier question. “Are you all right, Little-?”

“Don’t lurch forward like that! I almost fell!”

He twisted his head as far as he was able, catching the barest glimpse of your hip and torso. “Apologies. Perhaps this was not the most inspired idea.”

Your arms remained around his head, but now he felt the extra weight of you resting your cheek atop them. “Let’s just keep going. Please.”

“Little Cat?”

“What?!”

“I will be able to move faster with the use of my eyes.”

“... oh.”

Your hands moved from his face. This time your fingers found purchase in his sodden hair. 

Oh. That is… an interesting sensation.

“You may keep doing that if it provides additional stability.”

“Please just keep walking. Or running. Running would be better.”

You sound miserable.

A surge of concern washed through him. He needed to find you shelter. Preferably somewhere warm and dry. Soon.

“Hold on.”

“I am- woah!”

The grinding noise of his armor servos made Taliesin grit his teeth as he jogged through the flooded pass. Already the plate felt heavier than it should. If it sustained much more damage, he might have to remove select pieces. Never an easy task without the aid of at least one techpriest and a full team of Armory serfs. 

He sent a quick nonverbal request to the armor’s machine spirit.

Please, remain functional until I find a safer location.

Then he heard you cough.

***

Too hot.

You awoke to the feeling of being stifled, your cheek pressed against something hard, your neck bent at an odd angle. You tried to shift away.

I can’t move.

Your eyes few open to be met by a solid wall of darkness. Somewhere nearby water dripped and rushed. A peal of thunder rattled your teeth in your skull. And bands of what felt like solid metal held your limbs immobile. 

Panic.

Let me go, let me go, LET ME-

“Easy, Little Cat.”

The voice drained every drop of terror away. You blinked. Just when your eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness a bright flash of lightning turned everything white. You jumped, the crown of your head bashing against what you could only assume was Taliesin’s armor.

Opening your mouth to cry out resulted in a prolonged coughing fit.

Throne, it feels like my lungs are trying to tear free!

An armored hand spanned the entirety of your back. It rubbed awkward circles, bumping painfully over the ridges of your spine and shoulder blades, until the coughing stopped.

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

He sounds….

Not afraid. Surely not. Concerned? Unsure? You couldn’t place the exact emotion in his deep voice. The arms locked around you tightened uncomfortably.

“T-Taliesin?”

“Yes?”

“Too… tight…!”

“Ah.” The grasp loosened. “Forgive me. Better?”

You were still too hot. And yet, somehow, you couldn’t seem to stop shivering. 

“Where… are we?”

“A cave. I discovered it carved into the wall of the pass, presumably by intelligent hands. Rough steps led up to its entrance.”

As soon as you could make out shades of grey, you swiveled your head. The cavern ceiling looked to be about six feet above the floor. You couldn’t see past Taliesin’s bulk to tell how deep it ran. In the lightning flashes, you saw that the Angel of the Emperor was on his knees and still bent nearly double, pauldrons curved inward. What you could see of his face looked….

You snickered in spite of yourself, barely managing to avoid another coughing fit.

“What is so amusing?”

“You look… comfortable.”

A sigh. “I assure you I am not.”

A pang of guilt cut through your amusement. 

I’m being a burden. 

“You could have kept going.” 

His golden eyes found yours. “Your temperature was rising beyond what is normal for healthy mortals.”

You set your jaw, trying and failing to control your body’s shivers. “I would have been fine!”

“I will not risk your health.”

Something in the way he said it filled you with a whole different kind of warmth. You grabbed hold of the feeling, crushed it, and locked it deep, deep down inside you. 

Do not think it. Do not feel it. Do not acknowledge its existence. 

“Little Cat? Your heart rate is rising.”

“I’m fine.” You refused to look at his golden eyes again. “Just tired.”

“Sleep, then. We will move when the weather becomes less hostile.”

You closed your eyes. And tried very hard to convince yourself you hadn’t heard his last, almost whispered, words.

“Please do not fall ill. I cannot… please.”

***

The storm passed.

You did not wake.

Taliesin tried. He called your name, or at least the name by which he knew you. He gripped your shoulder, carefully, and jostled you. He called louder.

You shivered. You coughed. You even let out a tiny, mewling noise that made his hearts stutter in his chest for some reason. 

But your eyes did not open.

Taliesin was an Astartes. A Space Marine. He knew no fear.

Or so he had always been told.

He wracked his brain for any and all information he’d learned from his Company Apothecary. The scarred veteran had treated as many mortals as brothers, perhaps more, in his long centuries of service. From him Taliesin learned of the fragility of the mortal body.

You have been cold and wet for far too long.

He’d tried. He’d sought out the cave for you, even when his every warrior’s instinct screamed to push onward. He’d held you against him in an effort to share his body’s naturally higher heat, even though he’d sworn to keep his distance. 

But now you would not wake. 

The canvas he’d scavenged for you from the crash site was proving ineffective. Already its edges had been frayed and torn. And a quick press of his gauntlet against your skin showed how unsatisfactory it was at retaining heat. 

You need proper clothing.

And rest.

And mortal medicine.

None of these things he could provide. 

This failure was inevitable. 

He shook his head against the mounting thoughts of doom… and curses… and ill luck….

“No.”

Not this time.

It took more ungainly contortions to extract himself from the cave. His armor shrieked and sparked against the stone. But he emerged with you cradled in his arms, and a desperate light in his eyes. One leap bypassed the carven stairs entirely. Stone cracked beneath his feet, water spraying, as he landed and immediately began to run.

The abandoned outpost will have what you need.

Logic tried to pierce his hope. The outpost had been abandoned for decades. He could not know in what state he would find it. More than likely the primitive inhabitants of this world had stripped it of every possibly useful item long ago. 

It will have what you need.

The outpost was still days away. Your temperature was too high. If you remained unconscious, dehydration would take you faster than illness. And what if your illness was no natural thing, but some evil born in your time amongst the Traitors?

What medicine could help you then?

“The outpost will have what you need, Little Cat.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “It will. By the Emperor, it MUST.”

I will not watch you die. Not you.

He could see the end of the pass ahead. Light, like the Emperor’s own golden rays, pierced the grey clouds above to illuminate a gentle slope beyond the stark stone walls. Green grass as high as his hips, dotted with large blooms of some kind, rippled in a breeze he could not yet feel. 

Taliesin remembered the cannibal woman’s ominous warnings. How they avoided the land around the outpost. How things that were “wrong” dwelled there.

At this moment, it looked like a paradise. 

Which made the gut punch of EVIL suddenly resonating up the pass behind him all the more jarring.

***

He lay on his belly, like the serpent he so tried to be, at the mouth of the gap between peaks. It looked like a great wound in the stone. His two primary hands grasped the edges of the walls as if to rip the wound even wider. His secondary arms supported his torso, bent at the elbow like that of a lizard.

The forked tongue flicked. The fangs glistened in the wan light.

“I smell you, Pet.”

His opalescent eyes glimmered with rage even as His jaw unhinged into an impossible grin. 

Mud coated his coils, obscuring the Slaaneshi runes he’d had painstakingly carved upon each pearly scale. He could feel it grating as He writhed. The armor He’d perfected over millennia with crushed Aeldari soulstones and metal slowly extracted from the blood of living humans was scuffed. Even dented in places. 

And his hair…! 

Rearing upright He raked his talons through the formerly silky waves. Sticks, dirt, disgustingly organic fragments of flora, even…. 

A repulsive little invertebrate of some kind?!

His shriek of fury sent spiderweb cracks along the sheer stone cliffs. 

Whatever interloper was fouling his beloved Pet, and forcing Him to foul Himself in the pursuit, would not die quickly. 

His talons ripped gashes in the rock as He catapulted Himself forward. Coils expanding and contracting. All four limbs moving in perfected coordination. Liquid dripped from his fangs to sizzle and hiss upon the earth. 

“I am coming, Pet!” His sing-song scream tinged the air an unholy purple. “I am coming to take you home!”

***

In Taliesin’s arms, your eyes shot open. Blank. Unseeing.

Then you screamed.

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Perturabo “What species?” Perturabo asks.

“Any worm.”

“That isn’t sufficient information.”

“It’s just a question.”

“The conditions determine the answer.” Perturabo requires data. Are you an earthworm? A parasitic worm? A giant alien worm? Do you retain human cognition? Can you communicate? Was the transformation deliberate? Can it be reversed? You tell him he is thinking too hard and he becomes offended. “You have presented me with a logistical problem and now object to its proper examination.”

He builds you a worm habitat capable of surviving orbital bombardment, it has climate control, nutrient monitoring, automated soil rotation and six redundant life support systems.

You ask whether that means yes.

“Obviously.” Perturabo crosses his arms.

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

“Because love does not exempt one from adequate planning.”

Jaghatai  “A worm?” Jaghatai understands the question perfectly but refuses to let you win easily “Would you still complain when I travelled too quickly?”

“I’m a worm.”

“That has never stopped you from complaining before.” He smiles. “Yes, I would love you but I would place you in a small pouch and carry you with me because worms are slow and I am not.”

Russ “Why are you a worm?” Russ frowns.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Did Magnus do it?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

“Nobody, it's hypothetical.”

“Oh.” He squints at you then suddenly realizes what you are actually asking. “You want to know whether I would still choose you if you were helpless, strange and unable to offer me anything.” His expression softens. “Yes, little worm, I would keep you close. I would guard you from birds, frost boots and foolish men.” He then spends the rest of the day calling you ‘my little worm’ in front of everyone. You regret asking.

Dorn  “Yes.” Dorn answers literally and sincerely

“You wouldn’t be upset?”

“I would be concerned.”

“But you would still love me?”

“Yes.”

“What would you do?”

“Construct an appropriate habitat.” Dorn immediately begins listing practical requirements. He doesn’t mock the question and simply accepts that his beloved is now a worm and begins arranging defences.

“That’s very romantic.”

“It’s basic responsibility.”

Konrad Curze “If you were a worm?” Curze looks at you with enormous, unblinking eyes. “Soft and defenseless, buried beneath the earth, surrounded by larger things waiting to devour you and unable to scream.” He leans closer. “I would know you, I would know which trembling little thing was mine.”

Sanguinius “Yes.” Sanguinius answers before the question is even finished. “I would love you in every shape. I would miss your voice, your hands and your smile but I wouldn’t mistake loss for an end to love.” He smiles with unbearable tenderness. “I would keep you safe in the gardens.”

Ferrus “No.” Ferrus frowns. “Because you wouldn’t be a worm.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then the question is defective.”

“It is supposed to test whether your love is unconditional.”

“Why not ask that?”

“Because this is funnier.”

Ferrus stares at you as though humour itself is a structural weakness until he realizes you are genuinely waiting for reassurance.“If some force reduced you to a worm, I would still love you. I would also locate whoever caused it and crush them.”

“Thank you.”

“But I would prefer you did not become a worm.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” He considers the matter settled forever.

Angron “Who called you a worm?” Angron’s expression changes immediately. “Who made you think I would stop loving you?”

“It’s only a joke.”

Angron understands the emotional insecurity underneath the question and it makes him furious at the possibility that you might doubt him. “You could be wounded, changed, broken, silent or helpless. You would still be you and if anyone stepped on you, I would kill them.”

“What about birds?”

“I would kill the birds.”

“All birds?”

“All birds within reach.”

You explain that birds are an important part of the ecosystem but Angron is unmoved. The skies are no longer safe.

Guilliman  “Yes, of course.” Guilliman recognizes the question, he saw it in archived social records and knows there is a socially appropriate response.

“That sounded rehearsed.”

“It wasn’t rehearsed.”

“You knew the answer before I asked.”

“I understood the likely intention.”

“You’re treating this like diplomacy.”

“I am not.” (He absolutely is.)

Mortarion “A worm in the soil living among rot and decay?” Mortarion looks suspiciously pleased by the concept.

“Yes.”

“You might be better adapted than most.” He studies you for a moment then recognizes the hurt hidden behind the absurdity. “I would.”

“You would what?”

“Still love you.” He sounds almost annoyed that you made him say it aloud. “I would keep you somewhere dark and damp.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It is what worms require.”

Magnus the Red “What an intriguing problem.” Magnus’s eye brightens, already taking it far too seriously. “If consciousness remains intact despite radical physical transmutation then the soul must maintain continuity independent of neurological structure-”

“Magnus.”

“Alternatively, perhaps the worm body develops a psychic essence capable of housing your existing identity-”

“Magnus, it’s a yes or no question.”

“It is absolutely not.”

Soon Magnus is surrounded by floating books, he begins investigating transformation rituals, reincarnation, biomancy and the metaphysics of personhood.

“Would you love me?”

He looks genuinely startled that this was ever in doubt. “Of course.”

“Then why all this?”

“Because I intend to reverse it.”

He spends the next three weeks trying to prevent an event that was never going to happen.

Horus “A worm?” Horus laughs warmly. “My love, I would recognize you if you were hidden among ten thousand worms.”

“How?”

“You would be the one causing trouble.” He smiles. “Yes, I would still love you. I would carry you in my pocket during councils and ask for your advice.”

“I couldn’t talk.”

“You would find a way to express disapproval.”  Horus understands the question, reassures you and makes you laugh without making you feel foolish. You almost forget that he could probably convince an entire expeditionary fleet to love him as a worm too.

Lorgar “Reduced from your present form yet retaining the essence of your soul...” Lorgar begins composing a sermon about love transcending flesh, the sacred humility of crawling creatures and the divine significance of transformation. Minutes later he finally returns to the original question. “Yes. I would love you.”

“Thank you.”

“I might even love you more profoundly, for your suffering would reveal-”

Vulkan “But worms are very small and easily harmed.” Vulkan looks worried and is immediately concerned for your safety. “And many people don't watch where they walk.”

“Vulkan, it isn’t real.”

“I would make you a garden, a safe one with rich soil and small shelters.” He has already lifted you carefully, as if you might transform at any moment.

“And you’d visit me?”

“Every day.”

“Would you talk to me?”

“Of course.”

“What would you say?”

“The same things I say now.”

Corvus Corax “Yes.” Corax’s answer is immediate and quiet. “A change of shape wouldn’t erase what you meant to me. I would place you somewhere hidden and where no one could find you.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“For protection.”

“Would you visit?”

“At night.”

“Why only at night?”

He doesn’t answer.

Alpharius Omegon “You are already a worm.” Alpharius looks at you calmly.

“What?”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No.”

He refuses to explain.

Omegon enters five minutes later and you ask him the same question.

“Of course I would.”

“He said I’m already a worm.” You point accusingly toward Alpharius.

Omegon nods thoughtfully. “Then the question has already been answered.”

Soft and mushy

Vulkan would melt first and hardest. He would act proud, but the second one of his children gives him a handmade gift or says something sweet, he is done for, all warmth and misty eyes and arms full of his kids. His little drakes.

Sanguinius would be another one to go very soft. He would be visibly touched by every card, every drawing, every awkward little speech, and would absolutely keep everything forever.

Lorgar Aurelian would be openly emotional. He would treat the day like a sacred blessing, get teary over even the smallest gesture, and tell the children how loved and treasured they are in return.

Magnus the Red would get soft, but in a more dramatic way. He would be touched and just a little bit overwhelmed, then immediately turn the whole thing into a grand celebration of family, love, and shared wonder.

Roboute Guilliman would not be mushy in a loud way, but he would be deeply moved. He would save every gift, every note, every tiny tradition, and quietly make the day into something official and meaningful.

Proud and celebratory

Leman Russ would celebrate like it is a feast made just for him. He would laugh, boast, drink, and make a huge show of appreciating every gift, and the pride underneath would be very real and loud.

Horus Lupercal would also lean into celebration. He would charm everyone, make the day feel big and victorious, and act as though his children have just honored him in the most fitting way possible.

Lion El'Jonson would be restrained, but clearly approving. He would not gush, yet the way he accepts the gifts with solemn attention would show that he is proud and touched.

Jaghatai Khan would celebrate in a freer, quieter way. He would like the sincerity of it, the lack of fuss, and he would be happy as long as the kids are genuinely enjoying themselves too.

Rogal Dorn would take the wishes and gifts seriously. He would not make a spectacle of it, but he would stand a little straighter, visibly honored that his children thought of him at all.

Ferrus Manus would be proud in a blunt, practical way. He would respect anything handmade, especially if it is sturdy or useful, and he would show his approval by keeping it near him forever.

Quietly touched

Corvus Corax would be one of the more quietly affected ones. He would prefer to not make a big scene, but he would absolutely remember the words, the tone, and the gesture, and he would be softer afterward in the private way he only allows with family.

Perturabo would pretend to be indifferent, but he so very obviously is not. If his children made something for him, he would scrutinize it carefully, then keep it somewhere protected, because the fact that they thought of him would matter more than he says.

Mortarion would act guarded at first. He would probably not know how to respond without discomfort, but if the kids persist, he would accept the gifts with awkward gratitude and secretly be more affected than anyone realizes.

Angron would be the most surprising softie in a rough, wary way. If his children give him something genuine, he would be visibly taken aback, then very quietly, very intensely protective of the gift and the moment.

Less obvious about it

Fulgrim would love being celebrated, but he would want it to be near-perfect. If the gifts are thoughtful or artistic, he becomes very invested; if not, he will still be touched, but he may hide it behind perfectionism.

Konrad Curze would react in a complicated way. He would be shaken by kindness, not always know what to do with it, and probably act darkly amused while secretly holding onto every little thing his children give him.

Alpharius and Omegon would be the hardest to read. They would definitely appreciate the wishes, but they might respond with misdirection, jokes, or a strangely formal kind of gratitude, as if being loved openly is still slightly dangerous.

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