12 Miles Below - Epilogue (Side Story - Observations of an Imperial Crusader during the Crucible Months, Part 2)

AN: Last epilogue started off the gun a bit too fast, I edited the start to add more detail. I am unsure if this side story will make it into the final version of 12MB, it's more likely I'll be writing a few epilogues that will be patreon only, and I'll reorganize the bundle we end up with for the official KU version. Anyhow, enjoy! I will be going down the patreon poll and tackle it in order!****When historians would argue that the third emperor was once a normal mortal man, a boy barely in his twenties, Rivian would think back on this moment. When he went to see the absolute carnage that was left behind at that temple.

There were bodies everywhere. More screamers and machines then he’d ever seen in his life. 

His search party and himself assumed it had all been the sword saint that had traveled with To’Wrathh down here originally. But later on he would realize the truth: The third Emperor had been hiding among this quaint little group of surface knights following the sword saint to the temple all along.

And once he connected those dots, the devastation that they’d found on the second strata under the temple made more sense. He'd even gone as far as to ask the Empress herself during one of her functions, as a side question. And she'd confirmed it, the Emperor had gone and fought a thousands screamers and a Feather, as a mortal man. And won.

Rivian was certain the Emperor had been a monster of a swordsman from the very start. 

Multiple different machine armies had come together and all of them lay in broken heaps. They traveled further downwards and kept finding bodies of machines cut across by blade, having fallen off the bridge.

The tracks ended there, save for a set of footprints and small living signs of one knight traveling from the lowest point of this strata outwards. Usually those signs-of-life would be dead machine shells.

That particular path led to Airis Point, one of the strongholds that was mostly owned by Warlocks, and where the spires were located. At least one of the spires. Rivian didn't know all too much about Warlocks, and even to this day he didn't mess with the Occult out of superstition.

Imperials did work with warlocks, but generally the relationship was closer to how private wealthy individuals would look down on larger goverment organizations. The church only got the rejects of the warlock guilds. 

Still, they did manage to learn the surface knights and the sword saint had lost a member here... which ended up being the Lord Executor Sagrius himself, the blade of the Emperor and the Chaptermaster of the Emperor’s Knights. Basically the leader of the greatest Order of knights in the world, and in general history.

In hindsight, if anything, the second strata was lucky it had survived the Lord Executor walking through it rather than the other way around.

Regardless, he’d been picked up by a grand warlock of the times named Hexis, who’d ferried him back to his clan. There’d been nothing more to do other than travel to the surface after, but at that point Rivian didn’t want to keep following behind the footsteps of someone who could quite literally fly anywhere she wished. 

So he hatched up a better idea: Get the rogue To’Wrathh to come to him instead. 

Plenty of refugees were still homeless from Capra’Nor, and so with a bit of nudging, supplies and equipment could be funneled into them, enough for a new city to be funded and inhabited solely by people To’Wrathh would certainly come back for. 

The Church absolutely hated that idea of course, but Rivian’s new Chapter was quite sneaky and well used to doing schemes for the greater good. Feeding ‘traitors to humanity’ food and supplies so that they could make a nice city of their own wasn’t the worst thing his new Chapter had done in their history. 

Everyone was happy. Rivian didn’t need to travel around constantly at the heels of someone who refused to stay put in one area, the Chosen got enough supplies and hidden assistance to get all the refugees together, and he very pointedly did not look at the supplies his Chapter were sending to the then-young Drakonis nor to the idea that having this city threatened would likely draw out To’Wrathh early. 

That part, he made very, very certain to not squint into. And he had plenty of other things to worry for.  

The days leading up to the Urs Proclamation were filled with dread. Imperial Mitespeakers began mirroring the prophecies wild mitspeakers were all saying. They’d always spoken of the end times approaching, but this time all stories began to converge. It was something that the church noticed was happening everywhere in the world. They weren't sure what was going on, but something was coming.

His new chapter doubled down on their search for the Lost Emperor, but Rivian kept himself busy with the mundane plans he'd started on. The little city of human traitors started blooming and had enough weapons and supplies to fend off the pack of Deathless coming after them, and all he needed to do was visit once a week to check in on progress and where things were. See if To'Wrathh was waiting for him on another crate of food.

It wasn’t a trap, per say, since Rivian and his newfound Chapter both saw eye to eye that the Feather couldn’t be captured. And she now traveled around with people like the Sword Saint, so trying to fight them all would be a tall order. 

They were planning on trying to coax her out using treats and sweets, such as offering permanent protection from the Deathless harassing, or a home within one of their fortresses where they could keep an eye. 

Something the rest of the Church would have been vehemently opposed to, but the world was very clearly changing so that wasn't so difficult to offer. His chapter was mostly certain they could wheel and deal.

By that point, the data package she'd shared couldn’t be hidden by his Chapter since it had gone public and the church was deeply divided into different subfactions, and the mitespeakers all starting to say the Emperor of Mankind was returning soon, well… that did tend to make people start thinking something was off in the world.

And while he was busy trying to sort together the church, To’Wrathh returned. 

Unfortunately, it was more an eyeblink. 

He’d brought with a shipment enough supplies and ammunition to fend off the Deathless on the other end of the field, left back to the fortress under the cover of the night cycle, and seven days later, Drakonis’s Deathless had come running out of the wilds screaming and crying with a full wing of surface knights chasing after them, and Tenisent Winterscar, Emperor’s Father, equally chasing after them.

Rivian had no idea who this man was, but he very quickly realized this single knight was more dangerous that the goddess damned Sword Saint herself and that was something he hadn’t actually thought was possible at the time. 

His chapter scrambled to action, rushing to the Chosen city, and found that To’Wrathh had returned into the light along with what would later become the most feared knights in history.

They all understandably ripped apart the rookie deathless and the at-the-time rookie Drakonis with a flick of a hand, and then went right on their merry way before Rivian had even known or could scramble an imperial delegation after her. 

This part of history is why in any bar when the question of who would win; a Rotsworn Knight or the Emperor’s Knight, the answer would always be the Emperor’s Knights.

Their Order had been kicking the Rotsworn around from before the two Orders were even a thing. Their entire first meeting had been the Emperor's Knights hounding after the running Rotsworn.

As far as Rivian had researched, all the Deathless that had originally followed Drakonis had equally followed him in Communion with the Rotsworn, taking on the mantle of guarding the Icon and the Odin living there. 

And they all very clearly remembered their first encounter with what would become the Emperor’s Knights. As in getting chased across the wilds back to different cities, where they would be spawn camped and killed at the pillar heart repeatedly until they surrendered unconditionally. With the entire city watching and unable to do a thing.

Lionheart might speak of the story with stoic fondness and respect for an enemy that deserved it, but the rest of the Rotsworn clearly felt nervous around the Emperor’s Knights just from that history.

But then again, these were the Emperor’s Knights. Anyone who wasn't nervous around one of those knights had a few loose screws.

Feathers entered tournaments specifically for the prize of getting to fight against one of those monsters before the grand coliseum. 

Rivian never understood that.

The Empress dangled the chance to join one of these tournaments, with only the Feathers who actively shepherded and guarded a human city being permitted to enter- and it somehow worked

The idea was insane to him. Spend a year helping a few thousand humans make a new home, all to get a chance to fight against other Feathers in public exhibition matches with your entire city watching, and then if you managed to win that tournament, the prize would be to go on and fight an absolute monster sent by the Emperor, of which not a single Feather had ever actually won those fights.

Of course they wouldn't. These were the same knights the Icon used to delete Feathers during the Twelve Hour War.

Apparently the longer that unbeaten streak continued, the more Feathers were biting at the bit to be the first Feather to win against one of those knights. So it just drew more of the insane bastards to join the tournaments. 

It did make for some great entertainment, he had to admit. As a sport, competition fights between immortals like the Deathless, Feathers, Rotsworn and the other Orders of the world had become quite popular.

But back in those days, Rivian couldn’t have guessed at any of this. Feathers were still mythical monsters only the Deathless handled and few actual humans ever had to deal with.

To him, he’d only known a single Feather who was currently blowing up his carefully laid plan by just eradicating everything and everyone in her path. 

By the time his chapter’s scrambled together Airspeeder convoy had reached the Chosen settlement, To’Wrathh had apparently thrown herself further down into the stratas looking for some knight that had gotten lost.

Who turned out to be the Emperor, but that was besides the point. She'd come right into his trap, and passed by too fast for him to even execute anything after. That Feather was infuriating in how many times she'd managed to mess his life up without even intending to.

He spent the next period of time having to come up with all kinds of potential plans and ideas with his Chapter in recovering contact with To’Wrathh, only to find out she’d done that part for him again by walking up to his goddess damned Chapter’s central home, knocking on the door to be politely let in with the Second Emperor Urs, and the man that would become the third Emperor. And also came with the plan to draw out the First Emperor himself. So all three Emperors without even trying.

Or so she claimed. Grand Empress of the Machine Dominion or not, she was still a Feather deep down and Rivian had learned never to trust Feathers when they were boasting about anything. 

They embellished their achievements like a corrupt priest would hoard gold. 

Regardless, he was still up on the first strata by Capra'Nor, so while the three Emperors were brought straight to the heart of the Imperial Church in a gift basket, he had been none the wiser.

History was having a giggle at his expense, of that he was almost certain. 

The Urs Proclamation was where everything went from ominous overall feeling of dread with the mitespeakers all speaking doom approaching, to realizing those insane prophets were completely correct, and then major panic that everything was moving horribly too fast. It was a night and day change.

He went to sleep exhausted one night, and woke up to the world ending the next morning.

Well, no. To be more accurate he'd missed the first part of the world ending, and instead woke up to someone screaming at him to get up and get to the mess hall. By the time he reached the mess hall, he’d already heard a recording of the entire speech sent by Urs across the empire and to every relic armor in existence.

His chapter handled it professionally and clinically, but they were cheating by having a lot of hidden knowledge on how the world worked and plenty of time to digest and really understand To'Wrathh's data package. So when the call came, they had already prepared strategies to validate if they'd made contact with the Emperor, and it was as simple as putting it through and getting a green light right after.

Every other Chapter was alternating between shitshow to somewhat well held together. But generally unified enough to get things done.

It was all the other religions and cities out there that had the big problems.

There’d already been a lot of stir up with the discovery and proof that the Empire had existed, and the Church had been right all along about their goddess.

But the general people of regular cities had just begun digesting the idea. 

And here came a massive speech coming from the Second Emperor himself, warning the world that the end times had actually begun, and they were starting right now… that had caused a few scuffles. 

Cities marshaled together, debated if they should send anyone up to the surface to fight according to Urs, completely chickened out in fear, and had to be strong armed by the local Church and Crusaders there. 

The Surface Clans were basically built from the ground up to handle this kind of proclamation and were already knee deep in the snow throwing themselves at the machines the moment they read the message was sent by Urs.The rest of the world had to be prodded into action, although that did get easier each hour when the cities realized all the machines weren’t coming after their walls, but making a direct rush to the surface, exactly as Urs claimed. Of which Urs had also outlined their only chance of success was keeping them from destroying the orbiting satellites. At the surface. And once they did succeed, the machines would be coming after everyone and there’d be no surviving for long. That was something the cities could understand. So Rivian and just about everyone who could fight within the fortress had left to go to the surface and fight. And then came the Icon. Humanity’s ace in the hole, a supercomputer from the golden age capable of outwitting and outmatching the machine empire, hidden away this entire time for a moment just like this. Most warriors spoke of the Icon like their closest friend. And despite Rivian’s history and all the bullshit he’d met, he equally would hand over anything the Icon asked him as a personal favor paid back, at the drop of a heartbeat. She’d saved his life a few dozen times over during the Twelve Hour War, and equally made him and his squires feel like everything they were doing was directly helping humanity’s cause. The sense of purpose was intoxicating.

And having someone on hand to speak to at any time, giving him information and advice on where to go and what to expect as a danger, well....There’s a reason most soldiers who fought in the great war spoke of it fondly rather than any kind of terror or nightmare. He had never met a single soldier that had night attacks, tremors, or any other emotion beside pride. 

Turns out sending a soldier into a war with the world’s greatest therapist at their side every single second of the fight, the emotional scars just never formed at all. The closest people came was the unexpected mistakes soldiers made that ended up with someone dead. And that didn't have the usual survivor's guilt attached, everyone was well prepared to die for this cause within the first two hours of fighting.

The Icon played with redundancy on a massive scale, so for soldiers to actually die under her commands, it required multiple squads to fail their own tasks, and usually gave her enough time to summon the Emperor to come save everyone at the absolute worst case situation. 

He personally hadn’t been part of one of those doomed rescues, the closest he’d gotten to a doomed situation, the Icon had sent three of the Emperor’s Knights through a portal and tossed them at the enemy horde overrunning their ranks. That basically put out the fire. Anyone who died had been killed instantly and usually of no fault on anyone other than themselves getting too greedy, or the enemy surging forward in an unexpected strike. Survivor's guilt was basically non-existent.

By this point the world had been completely united. All except for very few groups of outlaws and miserable miscreants, but those would get hunted down by the new Empires later.

Rivian had ended up at the surface at the end, a story most soldiers shared since the Icon had sent the final portal to just about anyone that could still walk. If they could aim a gun and had armor, they were sent. 

That had been the first time he actually got to see the Emperor of man, despite having nearly met him multiple times over in the proximity of To’Wrathh.

The fight itself had been the most danger he’d been in thus far, since the Icon was gone from them all at that point. He simply followed his Chapter’s direction, fought what he could fight, and prayed the Emperor would bring them to victory. 

Which he did. The entire world watched the final blow dealt to the mad goddess from orbit, and the entire collapsing station. 

Up to that point, the war was a bit of a blur of portals, rest, and fighting but that final moment he’d remember for the rest of his life. 

The massive beam striking down from the skies above, expanding outwards. The fortress falling down from the skies a moment after the beam ended. And the dead silence across the battlefield as all sides stopped to watch. 

The Icon’s voice had been the first word he’d heard, and just hearing her speak he already knew they’d won. She wouldn’t have been able to return if the mad goddess remained alive. 

He did meet with To’Wrathh multiple more times as an official for the Chruch, in which the Feather was absolutely insufferable now that she had a massive crown and the title of Empress. But he grudgingly supposed she deserved the praise that came with it. 

The grand wedding was rather spectacular, and the food was to die for.