Creatures of the Cold

Posted on Sat Jun 27th, 2026 @ 11:37am by Ramielos Volsunga & Ensign Mana'i

1,430 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Shoreleave [3-4]
Location: Volsunga's Quarters
Timeline: Late Shoreleave

No less than five different people had told her, over and over again, that no, you should not visit the big scary superhuman, he'll rip you to bits. Mana'i could see where they were coming from, of course, even without the use of her Mask; they wanted her to be safe, especially from the xenophobic man who'd arrived with weaponry and armor advanced beyond current comprehension and killed at least one since his arrival simply by... being. Of course it wouldn't do for her to go to his quarters alone and come out in a body bag, would it?

Well, Mana'i had never been good at listening to the norm, not when it contradicted her own quest for understanding as a scholar. The opinions of her fellow Knowledge Tower thinkers had not stopped her from chasing down remote leads at her own pleasure and neither would her new colleagues in this station.

Besides, she'd been alive long enough to know that even the most savage Rahi was rarely ever truly malicious. Often what seemed to be malice was in fact a reaction borne purely out of fear. Ramielos was the furthest thing from a beast, of course, but the concept of being misunderstood applied just as readily to him as well.

So, late in the evening, the Toa of Ice found herself striding down the hallway to Ramielos' quarters, alone with nothing but the metallic clank-clank-clank of her boots on the floor. Once she'd found the right door, she reached out a gauntleted hand and pressed the door chime.

"Enter." Volsunga called out, standing from a kneeling meditation position. As the individual knocking entered, he felt surprise. For a moment, he thought he saw some variety of Necron. He remained calm and still, and quickly realised that no, this was something better made than that, and not a threat. "Wha -" He corrected himself mid-syllable, "Who are you?"

The man mountain that awaited her beyond the doorway was, indeed, the furthest thing from a scared, caged Rahi. Mana'i didn't need the use of her Mask to tell that maybe, just maybe, despite his immense size, this man felt very, very small indeed in this strange, unfamiliar universe. She sensed no hostility or hate from him, only... defeatedness. Resignation. And she didn't need to use her Mask to tell that, either.

"Be at peace. My name is Mana'i. Like you, I am an unwilling visitor from a distant universe dreadfully unlike this one." The Toa of Ice remained with both feet just barely over the threshold, hands up with palm out. "And yes, I understand. I am probably like nothing you've ever seen. Yet another new thing to adapt to. Rest assured, I come bearing no malice."

"Your name is... Ramielos. That is what my colleagues tell me." Mana'i lowered her hands, placing them back at her sides. Her glowing blue eyes looked him up and down, examining, analyzing. She simply had to wonder what exactly he'd done to himself to get this large. Her colleagues had said that he was human - but humans didn't get this big on their own, did they? "A warrior. You remind me of my Earth brother Kolos, actually, with your height and size and strength. I relied upon him to keep me present." A soft laugh bubbled through her lips as she sat on the chair in front of his computer terminal - a respectful distance from the Marine. "It must be difficult, with your old purpose and comrades so far away..."

Ramielos considered what she said for a moment in silence. "I've adapted." He said. "You remind me of a construct known as a Pariah. They are soulless psychic abominations forged by the Necrons, an aeons-entombed race of living machines who traded their flesh for metal to dark Star Gods that enslaved them." He let the observation sit for a moment before realising he should elaborate. "But I see you are nothing like the Pariah. What do they call.. what you are?"

Necron. The name was sharp, like the edge of a well-honed blade, cold and cutting on her ears. The way he described them, Mana'i could almost swear they'd been enslaved to Makuta Teridax himself - clearly some parallels cut across universes and realities.

"I am a Toa. That is what my people call me and my siblings in arms." Mana'i explained softly. "Indeed, I would hope we are nothing like these soulless constructs you speak of. Our Duty is to safeguard the Matoran - the ordinary people of my universe. To that end, the Great Spirit blessed us with mastery over the base elements. Observe." Mana'i tapped her boot on the floor; where her heel made contact, ice spread outward in a corona.

"My domain is ice and cold. I can lower the temperature of this room to freezing instantly if I so wish, or cover your entire floor in ice, or calm raging blizzards at will. I can do more than just that, of course, but my goal here is not intimidation." Mana'i lifted her boot and the ice melted, leaving behind a tiny damp spot in the carpet. "I am here to learn. About you. Before I was a Toa, I was a seeker of knowledge in my home. And I was hoping that, as a fellow wayward traveller, you might find solace in sharing what you treasure."

"What is it like, where you come from?" Mana'i leaned forward in her seat. "What kind of danger to your people is so large and so threatening that necessitates the existence of warriors like you?"

"Where I come from, there is only war. A thousand fronts raging across a thousand sectors. My kind are created to destroy the enemies of mankind. They are countless. Ten thousand years before my time, a full half of my brother marines rebelled against our Imperium to serve the Chaos Gods. They fight us still." Volsunga began, identifying the foremost threat in his mind first.

"Beyond the traitor legions and other fallen human souls, the threats are many. The Necrons, as I have already mentioned, their soulless legions rise from worlds apparently at random. The Tyranid swarm are a hive-mind of rapidly and deliberately-evolving hyperpredators designed to scour worlds clean of their biomass so the hive-fleet can feed and propagate endlessly. The Ork warbands, endlessly multiplying, mentally defective fungal humanoid warrior warbands whose weapons and technology seem only to function because they believe they should, not because they comprehend any technological principles. The Drukhari, brutal slavers who strike from inaccessible subdimensions and consider torture and suffering the highest forms of art." Volsunga continued, realising he could speak on the subject for some time yet. "And others beyond."

Volsunga looked again at the puddle she had made. "We too were blessed by our creator, He made us masters of warfare, to keep all corners of his creation safe from harm. But my chapter, the Space Wolves, we are of the cold. Fenris, our homeworld, is what we call a deathworld. Worlds humanity was not meant to survive on. It is frozen tundra most of the year, until the season of fire brings lava from beneath the frozen seas to reshape the map. If cold is your specialty, you might like it." He supposed.

Mana'i's eyes brightened at that. "A cruel frozen world that demands strength from all who would survive within." She rose from her seat with a soft clank of armour. "Yes. I think I would understand Fenris." She paused, regarding him not as a monster in a cell, but as a warrior stranded far from his hearth. "If you wish it, we may speak more of it another time. And in return, I shall tell you of ice that does not merely kill, but protects and strengthens life."

For the first time since entering, she offered him a small, warm smile as she stood. "Be at peace, Ramielos. You are not the only exile in this place."

"Until then." Volsunga said with a nod. Once she was gone he considered her further. Evidently some kind of machine. That alone would render any further consideration beyond methods of her destruction heresy, in the Imperium. But now that he was no longer there, he gave thought to her nature. He sensed a strength in her, perhaps even greater than his own. This was a place of many strange things, but she was perhaps the strangest so far. He went back to his meditations.

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