The Observations of Yc'nav Korjd, The Lost Infantryman

Ethan

Translated by the great wizard Mireink in the year 3671 SGL
We must remember our history, our victories are important, but our failures and defeats are stronger points of learning. We can glean so much from the footnotes of our glory. These events are what subtly shape us, what have led to the present circumstances.
I was there, among the suppressed throngs, when it happened. Our downfall, scripted so long ago.

* * *

I marched through the city, waiting for the next announcement. The next campaign. We had waited almost a decade. The beautiful song of the warhorn, that siren's call was gone. The only marching I heard was my own. The city was dark. The factories stood out among the silent city spires, hopeful flames, waiting to leave their bounds in raid.
I returned to my cell. A simple room furnished with a stasis slab and little else. The belongings I had been issued were spread about the room. Collecting dust.
It was then that the sounds of muffled footfalls reached my ears. At first I believed it to be one of the creatures from the Colosseum; let into the city for the listless citizens to hunt. But I heard no other noise. No wild animal was so silent. I sprung to my feet, nearly knocking my head on the ceiling. I unlocked the heavy bolt made of the primitive native metal. (I think it was called steel by the talkative and timid primates who watch the mines from which the components are derived) With the pithy lock undone I cautiously swung the door open, scanning the alleyway formed by the defiled barracks.
I caught a glimpse of shining metal to my right and dashed after the malicious glint. The nightly merriment had commenced in the heart of Qwori. The muffled electric blasts from the unkempt weapons remaining after the great war could be heard throughout the city. The screams of the monkey-like prey carried even farther. In this part of the city the reassuring screeches of suffering could be heard quite clearly. The sound lulled me to sleep many nights. It was a sound which bolstered my sense of purpose but was bad for dreams. The beautiful, guttural death throes carried to me upon the wind, echoed through my subconscious mind. Weaving doubt into my mind. In my dreams I would ask these creatures questions. What if this terrible peace lasts forever? What role shall I play? What happens when I am lower than one of the loathsome slaves?
These questions again, assailed my mind as I pursued. With my superior build I quickly caught up to the creature. As I approached the panting thing I finally got a good look at it. It was one of the slaves, decked in a rude assemblage of armour scrap and carrying an armful of armaments. I slowed my pace to keep a consistent distance behind the man. Taking more care to hide my presence than before. I was curious to see where he was running to. I wondered why this slave was running through the city at this time. Didn't we teach them that the hunts are dangerous. If all slaves acted like this, who would be left to maintain our abundant livestock and stores.
As my mind wandered, so did my step. I was becoming careless in my pursuit. Suddenly, my left foot crunched into a rotting animal carcass, breaking through the ribs. The slave looked over his shoulder, shuddering from exhaustion. He looked at me and fainted in a trembling mass. I stood over the shaking man. I could now clearly see the weapon bundle. The arms seemed to have been taken from a scrap heap, they were rusted, singed, and outdated. Most of the guns were the type produced long ago which shot heavy bolts of lightning. They were unreliable at best in their prime.
What were these planned to be used for? Where was the man running to? To whom did he belong? Should I bother reporting him?
I scooped up the slave, planning to claim him for myself. I wasn't certain why I wanted him, I certainly had no use for him, especially in this state.
I returned to my cell, throwing the man onto the floor with my other possessions. I removed a chunk of my sustenance cube and threw it to him. I would hydrate him later.
I then bedded down for the remaining hours of the night. Sleeping restlessly as the man beside my bed ate noisily.
I awoke in the middle of the night. This wasn't unusual, but the blood-lust I felt was. Where were the calming noises of the Colosseum when I needed them? I turned to the slave, his wide eyes watched me. I took one of my many implements off the floor and turned it about in my hands. It was a tooth brushing tool. I remember wondering why this had been included in in my issued package. The standard diet did not include enough sugar to necessitate its use. I idly removed the brush tip, revealing the metal rod beneath. I flicked the lever on the side of the shaft and the rod vibrated violently. I stared at the movement, entranced by the rapid convulsions of the thing. I lunged at the man hunched against the wall; thrusting the dull shank into his shoulder. He howled in pain, writhing beneath my grasp, as the rod churned clumsily into the muscle of his arm. A smile cracked through my down-turned expression. I bedded down again. I slept soundly for the rest of the night.
The next day I provided the man water. He lapped it up savagely. As he drank I bound him, inadvertently re-opening his wound. The blood and puss of the gash oozed out of the wound, spattering my body. I thrust the man away and left my camber, locking the door tightly behind me.
I walked to the showers. My bare feet slapping and scraping unevenly upon the old path. As I neared the building I had to step carefully to avoid the rubble surrounding it. I surely hoped that the building had not been damaged in the festivities the night prior.
It had.
I readjusted the bag of clothes under my arm and headed back to my barracks. I would have to use the old shower. The slave's gore was beginning to dry onto my skin. I hoped at least one of the pipes still worked.

* * *

Pshhhshhhshh psh psht psht drip drip drip The flow of water paused again. I slammed my fist against the wall, again, punching through.
Qwori, my city, my home is crumbling.
It was at this time that I heard the screams. These were not the delightful cries of the enemy, these were the ordered warnings of my brethren...
AT THIS POINT I DESCRIBE THE EVENTS AS THEY HAPPEN IN A MARTYR FOR THE CUI'CHD (maybe a summoned meteor or other large, fire based, spell)
... The final blow was struck. The man tumbled to the ground. His blood leaking from his copious wounds. The area around him burned as the ruins of the great library surrounding me soon will. He writhed in silent agony, attempting to speak, then he shakily inhaled his last breath.

* * *

The great comet-star has been dislodged by the final devourer, the god of The Warp, I dare not write His name. I have collected the most voluminous histories, but so much will be lost. To whomever reads this, I urge you, your people, all peoples, to remember. Remember your past, observe the present, act for the future. You have your whole life. Millions of years to record, recall, observe. Do not dismember and preen your histories as we have, all must be recalled, even if only in spirit.
That slave, that lowly man. He prophesied our downfall. The star-comet plummets and we are not here, guns raised in violent protest, to be obliterated in glory. We wasted away, did not adapt. Our purpose was extinguished.
The world herself shudders and shrieks. The dead of far-off astral spaces rampage mindlessly. The star-comet creeps ever closer, shedding jagged fragments, filling the sky.
The rest of the pages were missing or badly damaged by fire. Strange animal prints covered all pages of the manuscript. The last pages may have contained instructions of some sort because of the way the unreadable lines were formatted.