Chapter Master

Inside was a silver key resting atop a roll of parchment, its surface slightly yellowed with age. Nine thousand years had left only faint traces on the well-preserved document.

Kayvaan gingerly took out the parchment and unfolded it. Written in the Imperium's formal Gothic script, the text read:

________________________

Commission of Appointment

In recognition of his heroic and exemplary service to the Imperium, and in acknowledgment of his tenure as Captain of the Raven Guard, it is hereby decreed that Kayvaan Shrike is granted the authority to establish a new Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes.

By the will of the High Lords of Terra and the decree of His Immortal Majesty, the Emperor of Mankind, Chapter Master Kayvaan Shrike is charged with the creation of a successor Chapter to the Raven Guard. This Chapter shall carry forward the honored legacy of stealth, cunning, and relentless pursuit of the Emperor's enemies, hallmarks of its progenitor.

This Commission grants:

Rights of Founding: Full authority to recruit, train, and oversee the creation of a new Chapter.

Heraldry and Insignia: The new Chapter may establish its own unique banner, insignia, and sacred rites in accordance with the Codex Astartes.

Fleet and Resources: A full complement of void-capable vessels and material to enable interstellar operations.

Sovereign Mandate: Jurisdiction over a designated region of Imperial space to serve as the Chapter's base of operations and area of responsibility.

The new Chapter shall act as an extension of the Emperor's will, a bulwark against heresy, xenos, and the forces of Chaos. Under Chapter Master Shrike's guidance, it shall embody the nobility, vigilance, and discipline of the Raven Guard while forging its own path in service to the Imperium.

By this decree, may Chapter Master Kayvaan Shrike spread the light of the Emperor to the darkest corners of the galaxy and bring glory to His name for millennia to come.

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At the bottom of the parchment was the Emperor's signature, accompanied by the black seal of the Imperial Aquila. Below the seal, a small note in fine print read, "This is a certified copy. The original has been archived in the Vaults of Terra."

Kayvaan turned the parchment over, inspected the key, and even re-examined the box multiple times. Only then did he finally accept that this was no cruel joke or twisted test. The letter was real.

For a moment, a surge of disbelief and awe overtook him. He hadn't expected such monumental recognition. This appointment wasn't just timely—it was a lifeline. He desperately needed this now.

When Kayvaan had first awakened in this strange, distant era, the deference of others had felt like a small comfort. But that initial kindness had soon turned into relentless scrutiny. Inquisitors and officials alike had looked at him with thinly veiled suspicion.

At every turn, Kayvaan had been plagued by the same fear: would someone storm in and drag him away? Would they discover something unnatural? Was there something within him, a remnant of Slaanesh's curse, that even he wasn't aware of?

The Imperium's treatment of anomalies was no mystery. Travelers like him weren't welcomed—they were hunted. To the Imperium, such beings were often considered invaders: malevolent entities born of the warp, infiltrating humanity. These "travelers" were eradicated without hesitation, dissected for study, or purged in the fires of judgment.

Some of these warp-born abominations disguised themselves, corrupting hearts and minds. Others burrowed into their victims, spreading chaos from within. The most terrifying were those who took over their hosts entirely. Kayvaan had seen such a demon within his own spiritual consciousness, its voice and presence as insidious as the warp itself.

Since his awakening, Kayvaan had lived under the shadow of these fears. If he were unmasked as tainted—or even suspected of it—death by flame would be the most merciful fate he could hope for.

Yet Kayvaan's long-honed demeanor had become his saving grace. Even as his appearance had softened, his body's natural habits remained the same. His face was always composed, showing no emotion regardless of the turmoil within. That mask had kept others from seeing his dread, though it did little to soothe the storm within him.

Had anyone suspected he wasn't the true Kayvaan Shrike, it wouldn't matter if the claim was false. The slightest doubt could mark him as a heretic. No excuse, no protest, would save him then. Claiming to be a lost traveler from another world? That would only add to the suspicion.

But this—this commission—was a shield. With the authority to form a new Chapter of Space Marines, Kayvaan had not only a mission but also a defense against doubt. It gave him legitimacy, a reason for his existence. For the first time since his reawakening, he felt a flicker of hope. Yet, even as relief began to settle in, his thoughts turned to the monumental task ahead. A heavy sigh escaped him, his inner turmoil momentarily spilling out. Still, his outward composure held. With a shake of his head, he forced a faint smile as he prepared to examine the Emperor's reward more closely.

Before he could act, Darius suddenly stood to attention. His boots clicked sharply together as he straightened, rigid as steel. The sharp sound echoed through the room. "Stand at attention!" Darius barked, his voice firm and unwavering. Raising one hand in salute, he declared loudly, "Darius, a loyal servant of the Imperium, formally applies to Captain Kayvaan Shrike for permission to join the Marine Corps you are about to establish!"

With that, he withdrew a white envelope from his coat, stepped forward, and placed it on the table with both hands, bowing slightly. "You… you already prepared an application?" Kayvaan asked with a wry smile, though he couldn't hide his surprise. "You knew what was in this box all along, didn't you?"

"Lord, I swear my family never opened this box," Darius replied earnestly. "The Alen family has safeguarded this reward for generations, as ordered by His Majesty the Emperor. However, it wasn't the only one issued. Thirteen identical commissions were granted during that time. Of those, seven were opened immediately, revealing their contents. Each contained a commission identical in nature, differing only in the name of the appointee. It wasn't difficult to infer the contents of this one.

"My ancestor's greatest wish was to help you—his Lord—rebuild the Marines. For that goal, he declined countless promotions, choosing instead to fight on the frontlines and accumulate merit. But even so, he never lived to see your awakening. Serving under your command is not just my ambition—it's a dream my family has carried for generations."

Kayvaan leaned back, his smile tinged with melancholy. "It's not that simple," he said, shaking his head. "You're still young, Darius. You don't understand what it takes to form a Chapter. Even a small-scale force is a monumental undertaking now. Nine thousand years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to don my armor and sail into the stars. But now…"

He trailed off, his gaze distant. This galaxy was no longer the one he remembered. Nine thousand years had reshaped everything. The dreams of his past felt like echoes from another life, and a single commission, no matter how sacred, couldn't bridge such a vast divide.

Darius, still standing, hesitated before asking, "Lord, does this mean you'll decline the commission?"