'The Lying Emperor shows his true face… As the Prophet of Claws says, give him anything other than servitude, and he will rain down his displeasure.' - 'The Lying Emperor shows his true face,' - Hassij from the city of Edoni, follower of the teachings from the Cult of the Four-Armed Emperor. [Planet Ronenti, Red Scar Sector] ‘The psychic scream of the cult was a constant presence, akin to the shadow in the warp in the same way that the shrill cries of young avians hear resemblance to the calls of the adults. It keened in Mephiston's mind, the wail of an infant shrieking for its mother’s attention. Undaunted, Mephiston moved on towards the source. By psychic art he trapped the shriek as surely as if it were encased in a soundproof bubble. No fleet of bio-ships would come in answer to strip the planet bare of life, and reveal to the cultists the truth of what they worshipped - not while he lived. At this close range to the source he could blot it out completely. …The cult leaders were waiting tor him. He could feel that. There were several minds tangled together, a partial hive of human slaves, backed by the monstrous intellect of a genestealer patriarch. They were close. He pushed a greater part of his mind into Vitarus, the Sanguinary Sword. Its red Hames danced higher. ‘I am death,' he whispered, 'and I am coming for you.' The pool of uncertain light crawled up a set of steps leading to the throne. Here were the leaders. Upon the throne sat a monstrously fat genestealer. Scaling on its exoskeleton and a cloudiness to its eyes showed its great age. Its claws were flaky and lustreless. Mephiston regarded it as low threat, despite its huge size. Its intellect was sharp, and it peered at him with senses other than sight. In the mind of this being the cry of the cult was gathered and projected into the warp. Physically, it was past its best. Another of the crossbreeds stepped forward as Mephiston advanced, and interposed itself between him and the patriarch. It carried a tall staff topped with a stylised depiction of the Emperor, carved with four arms. A tall cowl rose from its collar, the shape mimicking the aliens ribbed flesh. 'Stop,' the being said. Its voice was cold as the void. 'Kneel before the avatar of the Four-Armed Emperor and we shall let you live.’ 'You know with whom you speak?' 'You are an angel of the false Emperor. You are a weapon of hatred.' 'Then you know I will not kneel, magos,' said Mephiston. The creature’s eyes widened at the speaking of its title. Mephiston experienced an echo of surprise. 'You are all called the same thing, on every world your corrupt seeds take root. You are the product of a template. Your enlightenment is engineered. I will not be able to convince you of this, because you are a slave. I know, because I have tried.’ 'If you kneel, we will save you,' said the magos. ‘We welcome all. Salvation is for everyone. All you must do is accept the truth, and you will know it.' The genestealer leered at Mephiston. Its hollow-tipped tongue poked from its lipless mouth. A flare of interest washed from it. 'I also know what form your salvation takes,’ said Mephiston. ‘I should not pity you, for your kind is wicked to the soul, but you have no choice. I feel the blind devotion in you. I taste the rankness of corruption. Know this before I kill you - it is not your fault, and if such a thing is possible, then I commend your stolen spirit to the protection of the Emperor.’ 'I have no interest in your god,’ said the magos. The static prickle of gathering warp power fogged the air between him and Mephiston. 'The Emperor is not a god,' said Mephiston. 'All gods are lies.' Light burned around the magos stall, throwing out a stark illumination onto the beings crowding the room. From around the throne four genestealers slunk, so-called purestrains, their features stamped with humanity’s genetic imprint. The nearly human creatures behind him were tensing to attack. They were late in the process of planetary subjugation. What individuality they had was disappearing. Their behaviour was becoming more tyranid than human. 'Witness the power of a god, then, and see you are wrong before you die,' said the magos. The magos vomited a roaring fountain of power from its eyes and mouth. Brilliant light splashed onto the crowd behind Mephiston, casting a forest of shadows from reaching limbs and outstretched knives. They screwed up their eyes against the light and shrieked at its brilliance, but advanced nevertheless. The light engulfed Mephiston completely. Every muscle in the magos' body strained with the power coursing through it. The light cut out. Mephiston was gone. A satisfied mumbling went up from the crowd of hybrids. The purestrains hissed. 'A worthy effort,' Mephiston said. His voice echoed around the hall. The crowd looked about for him. He appeared in a blaze of red over their heads, held aloft by a spreading pair of wings made of crimson light. Power coursed through him and out of him, ruby lightning spearing into the crowd from his hands and feet. In his right hand a red lambency grew into a flaring brightness. A spear took shape, and he cast it from him at the bloated genestealer. The magos screamed a wordless challenge, and threw out a shield of light with a motion of his staff. The spear blazed through it, showering sparks, and slammed into the genestealer's head, pinning it with crackling energies to the back of the throne. The spear stayed manifest for a few seconds, boiling the monster's brains and reducing its eyes to hissing tears of jelly, before vanishing with a crackle of ozone-heavy air. The crowd wailed and screamed. Mephiston raised his hand. An expanding sphere of power blasted from him, flattening the genestealers. Darkness swelled around him, stealing away every photon of light, until even the xenos could not see. Mephiston's voice filled the space. ‘I am the Lord of Death,' he said. 'No enemy of mankind can prevail against me. Nothing can.' The killing began. - Mephiston vs Magus from the Cult of the Four-Armed Emperor. Xenocide operation/Purge of Ronenti, unknown date of early M42 A]
"Hello my fellow stealer of Genes "
...
HE KNOWS!!!
I've been waiting for this series! Genestealer's and Genestealer cults are one of my favourite aspects of lore!
Well, there's gonna be more of their forces soon.
Glad you covered the genestealers today, I love looking at people's custom work with them and they are great to kit bash with
Option A please. Happy to see you feeling better sir. Thanks for your work
Thanks for your support :)
B, Elites. Always good to hear GSC lore
C. let's see the basics of their warpower
also: algorithm +1
C. Regulars. There’s a method of poetry starting from the weakest to the strongest.
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
Nice job....
Elites would logically follow since You started at the top of the organizational hierarchy.
Specialists were actually voted, so that's next :)
Let's go from the basics, because i'm planning to make a Gene Stealers kill team, so I go with C
'The Lying Emperor shows his true face… As the Prophet of Claws says, give him anything other than servitude, and he will rain down his displeasure.' - 'The Lying Emperor shows his true face,' - Hassij from the city of Edoni, follower of the teachings from the Cult of the Four-Armed Emperor. [Planet Ronenti, Red Scar Sector]
‘The psychic scream of the cult was a constant presence, akin to the shadow in the warp in the same way that the shrill cries of young avians hear resemblance to the calls of the adults. It keened in Mephiston's mind, the wail of an infant shrieking for its mother’s attention. Undaunted, Mephiston moved on towards the source. By psychic art he trapped the shriek as surely as if it were encased in a soundproof bubble. No fleet of bio-ships would come in answer to strip the planet bare of life, and reveal to the cultists the truth of what they worshipped - not while he lived. At this close range to the source he could blot it out completely. …The cult leaders were waiting tor him. He could feel that. There were several minds tangled together, a partial hive of human slaves, backed by the monstrous intellect of a genestealer patriarch. They were close. He pushed a greater part of his mind into Vitarus, the Sanguinary Sword. Its red Hames danced higher.
‘I am death,' he whispered, 'and I am coming for you.'
The pool of uncertain light crawled up a set of steps leading to the throne. Here were the leaders. Upon the throne sat a monstrously fat genestealer. Scaling on its exoskeleton and a cloudiness to its eyes showed its great age. Its claws were flaky and lustreless. Mephiston regarded it as low threat, despite its huge size. Its intellect was sharp, and it peered at him with senses other than sight. In the mind of this being the cry of the cult was gathered and projected into the warp. Physically, it was past its best. Another of the crossbreeds stepped forward as Mephiston advanced, and interposed itself between him and the patriarch. It carried a tall staff topped with a stylised depiction of the Emperor, carved with four arms. A tall cowl rose from its collar, the shape mimicking the aliens ribbed flesh.
'Stop,' the being said. Its voice was cold as the void. 'Kneel before the avatar of the Four-Armed Emperor and we shall let you live.’
'You know with whom you speak?'
'You are an angel of the false Emperor. You are a weapon of hatred.'
'Then you know I will not kneel, magos,' said Mephiston. The creature’s eyes widened at the speaking of its title. Mephiston experienced an echo of surprise.
'You are all called the same thing, on every world your corrupt seeds take root. You are the product of a template. Your enlightenment is engineered. I will not be able to convince you of this, because you are a slave. I know, because I have tried.’ 'If you kneel, we will save you,' said the magos. ‘We welcome all. Salvation is for everyone. All you must do is accept the truth, and you will know it.' The genestealer leered at Mephiston. Its hollow-tipped tongue poked from its lipless mouth. A flare of interest washed from it.
'I also know what form your salvation takes,’ said Mephiston. ‘I should not pity you, for your kind is wicked to the soul, but you have no choice. I feel the blind devotion in you. I taste the rankness of corruption. Know this before I kill you - it is not your fault, and if such a thing is possible, then I commend your stolen spirit to the protection of the Emperor.’ 'I have no interest in your god,’ said the magos. The static prickle of gathering warp power fogged the air between him and Mephiston.
'The Emperor is not a god,' said Mephiston. 'All gods are lies.' Light burned around the magos stall, throwing out a stark illumination onto the beings crowding the room. From around the throne four genestealers slunk, so-called purestrains, their features stamped with humanity’s genetic imprint. The nearly human creatures behind him were tensing to attack. They were late in the process of planetary subjugation. What individuality they had was disappearing. Their behaviour was becoming more tyranid than human.
'Witness the power of a god, then, and see you are wrong before you die,' said the magos. The magos vomited a roaring fountain of power from its eyes and mouth. Brilliant light splashed onto the crowd behind Mephiston, casting a forest of shadows from reaching limbs and outstretched knives. They screwed up their eyes against the light and shrieked at its brilliance, but advanced nevertheless. The light engulfed Mephiston completely. Every muscle in the magos' body strained with the power coursing through it. The light cut out. Mephiston was gone. A satisfied mumbling went up from the crowd of hybrids. The purestrains hissed.
'A worthy effort,' Mephiston said. His voice echoed around the hall. The crowd looked about for him.
He appeared in a blaze of red over their heads, held aloft by a spreading pair of wings made of crimson light. Power coursed through him and out of him, ruby lightning spearing into the crowd from his hands and feet. In his right hand a red lambency grew into a flaring brightness. A spear took shape, and he cast it from him at the bloated genestealer. The magos screamed a wordless challenge, and threw out a shield of light with a motion of his staff. The spear blazed through it, showering sparks, and slammed into the genestealer's head, pinning it with crackling energies to the back of the throne. The spear stayed manifest for a few seconds, boiling the monster's brains and reducing its eyes to hissing tears of jelly, before vanishing with a crackle of ozone-heavy air. The crowd wailed and screamed. Mephiston raised his hand. An expanding sphere of power blasted from him, flattening the genestealers. Darkness swelled around him, stealing away every photon of light, until even the xenos could not see. Mephiston's voice filled the space.
‘I am the Lord of Death,' he said. 'No enemy of mankind can prevail against me. Nothing can.' The killing began.
- Mephiston vs Magus from the Cult of the Four-Armed Emperor. Xenocide operation/Purge of Ronenti, unknown date of early M42
A]
Wow, thanks for that...lengthy share :)
Nice one and it's a though call between option A or B :)
Option C. Also are you sure the Emperor doesn't have four arms... I mean the orgies for the Emperor seems like legit worship for the Emperor.
The Ordo Xenos would like a moment of your time.
Pretty sure!
B for me, another great video for the Hive Mind
Glad you enjoyed it
A. Specialist
Thank you
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
Lets make them feels special (A)
Hello TH-cam genestealers.
C - Start from the bottom
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
Oh wasn't expecting a video today :) hope you're feeling better.
It's unclaimed so... 1st to 1st, 12th to like, 60th to watch
It was just a Sunday's skip of a video. When I go for a longer break, I'll announce it.
A. they could be interesting.
Option B
I would like to see the elites (b)
The hive mind said B
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
Option A please.
The gene patriarch thanks you for the vote.
Man someone should call Blizzard and let them know the Zerg have been copied... oh wait reverse that lol
A or B :)
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
C please
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
C please.
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
A please.
Thanks for the vote.
A please
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
C
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
B
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
A
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
C !:)
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!
A please
The gene patriarch thanks you for the vote.
B
C
The gene patriarch thanks you for the vote.
A
Thanks for the vote.
B
The patriarch thanks you for the vote!