Insanity - Through The Void.
Sole survivor of the Gliese 581c exterminatus. A temper boils within him that's wise to leave unfired.
Gliese 581 c
Classification – Death world. One side of the planet sits under a blanket of darkness and ice, while the other is constant light, coated in firestorms, burning winds and oceans of lava. This world never turns; it stands resolute as it watches its star burn.
These two sides are known by the locals as the Everdark, and The Day. Humanity, in its incredibly adaptability and will to survive has found a way to exist here. There is a thin strip of land running between these two sides of hell known as Horizon. Temperatures and weather systems are erratic across this area, it is harsh, unforgiving, as are the native creatures that make their home here. Yet humanity fights. The Emperor protects.
The limited population consists of a few small tribes, spread across the slim livable area of the planet, with order maintained by a council, this council is of course then under the watchful eye of the Emperor and his Imperium. The tribes vary in their trades and rituals, but no tribe is more respected, and more feared as the tribe on the very edge of the Everdark, the Pales, tasked with guarding the edge of populated Twilight against the beasts within the dark. A selected warrior of this tribe, on their 18th terra cycle, takes a walk into the Everdark. There they stay for 100 days, in those pitch black and blisteringly cold wastelands. If they make it back at the end of this time they join the tribe’s greatest warriors and leaders, and likely move onto even greater things. Despite a lifetime of preparation and training for this feat of survival, few make it back. A tragic few of these selected ever see their 19th cycle, and those that do are changed forever.
The only real export of this planet for the imperium are soldiers, the imperial guard keep a close watch on Gliese, its tough conditions forge the people there into excellent survivalists and almost unnaturally strong soldiers. These soldiers tend to be perfect for the role of the storm trooper regiments, renowned for their close quarters fighting prowess. The warriors ascension to the status of these elite soldiers remains a great honor for a tribe, with each one fiercely proud of its ‘ascended.’
Mikail grew up within the Pale tribe of Gliese; all who knew him had high hopes for his success of the walk. When this day came he ceremoniously wandered out to be devoured by that thick blackness, armed with the twin chainsword’s, given to him by the leaders of his tribe, the emperor had given the leaders signs that this man had great destiny in his future, they should allow him this high honor among their people. The chainsword’s, as well as other technologies had been given to the people by the Imperial Guard in return for their soldiers, and in honor of their best men. It helped reduce later culture shock and moved along the training to get the tribesmen used to fighting with these mighty weapons, and Mikail with his mighty frame was one of the few men that could carry two at once.
The time in the darkness changed Mikail, his eyes grew permanently attuned to the darkness as often happened to his people, every hour was a battle, every brief reprieve was a miracle, but he adapted and with his chainsword’s he quickly became something else to fear within the darkness. On the day that he was due to make his long journey out of the darkness and back into the light, the dim horizon was set ablaze. It was as if the dayside had finally consumed the fragile middle-ground, consuming it in fire. He ran for 10 hours before finding a vantage point, and spotted the mighty ships burning his world, his people, and his home to ash. The blast waves slammed into him and hurled him back twenty feet into a rock face. Just before he lost consciousness he made out the symbol on the side of the largest ship. A Black bird, on deep red.
Years pass, Mikail has made his way back to the Everdark. The bombs have made the Horizon more inhospitable than even this desolate hell, he could not go back. He lives on however, awaiting a chance to leave this dead place and his tortured memories behind, find out what this symbol might mean, find out what happened to his home-world, and forge a new existence in this universe. Emperor willing.
Several months ago however, a ship did come to the remains of Gliese, Mikail watched it fly down near his camp with contempt. It had the same symbol as the capitol ship he saw decimating his people. After watching for some time, huge figures clad in metal emerged from the transport and began patrolling the area, seemingly looking for something. Mikhail consumed with rage waited for an opportunity, before charging uncaring about his own life to meet this enemy. Merely a few feet from one of these mighty figures a voice in his head roared at him to stop, despite all his willpower he could not fight it and stood… awaiting death. There was a shot… but the end did not come. Looking up he saw a spinning bolter shell inches from his forehead, floating in the air.
“No” the same voice declared, “This one walks a different path”
Mikail could just see on the edge of his vision, another huge figure clad in metal holding a mighty book. He questioned the man angrily on what they were here for, what has happened, who are they? But received no reply, the figure simply smiled and threw what looked like an old imperial guard supply crate to his feet.
“We will meet again. Much would have changed. Look for one who used to be a brother.”
With these words an incredible pain surged through every nerve in Mikail’s body, he collapsed to his knees but managed to not yell out, hatred kept his agony silent. With one last glance at Mikail the figure walked on, leading the other warriors onwards as if they’d never met. It took three hours to gain the strength to get to his feet again, by then the ship was gone and he was alone again… leaving the box unopened Mikail waited. Another opportunity would come, he knew. Soon.