The Saga of Tiberius

Teetering on the edge. That's what his Chaplain had told him. Tiberius gritted his teeth as he struggled to find another handhold. He grinned fiercely. If only the Chaplain could see him now. Tiberius looked upwards.
"Only a little further" He thought. "Then, the truth."

As Tiberius struggled his way up the icy cliff, something looked down on him. The "something" smiled, showing rows of jagged teeth.
"YeS lIbRaRiAn, CoMe. I aM iN nEeD oF a NeW bOdY." It rumbled, its breath exhaling as sinister black gas.

Tiberius had almost reached the top when half his power armour shut down. The gears in his left arm, and his life support systems both deactivated at the same time, forcing Tiberius to catch hold of the cliff with only his right hand. He hung there for a while, unable to move, while his oxygen grew more and more scarce.
"This is probably a sign." He thought grimly. His power armour never failed. The machine spirits within the armour were probably trying to tell him something. He lost focus for a moment - his mind drifting back to the armour's maker...

"Martellus, where's this new suit you promised me?" Tiberius queried with a slight smile. "It's unlike you to be behind schedule." He faced the Techmarine Martellus in his own workshop - a place filled with pipes, panels, wiring and other components. Martellus turned from the suit to face Tiberius, his face masked with various mechanical devices, and a heavy breathing apparatus. Like most of his profession, Martellus believed that the more mechanical he made himself, the closer to the Machine-God he became.
"For your information Tiberius, this suit of power armour is not new, but old - very old. Its technology is difficult to understand, and even more difficult to repair." Martellus spoke calmly, his voice deep, with a metallic echo - indicating his voice box was at least partially mechanical.
"If it's that old, is there any certainty it will work?" Tiberius asked, concerned. Martellus let out a tinny sounding chuckle and returned to his work.
"Nothing in life is certain, old friend, except the victory of the Emperor, and the deaths of his Enemies." He intoned, almost like a prayer. He briefly glanced back at Tiberius again to reassure him. "Worry not. The ancients who designed this armour were far better crafters than any we now possess. Your armour will not fail you." Tiberius nodded.
"Call me when it is done."

Tiberius' mind snapped back into the present. His breath was hot in his helmet. He tried to force his left arm to move - praying to the Omnissah that the machine spirits would respond. For a few terrible moments, nothing happened, and Tiberius continued to hang there - thousands of feet up. Then suddenly his left arm reactivated, and Tiberius lunged for the top of the cliff. He still had no life support, so he quickly heaved himself over the edge, and tore off his helmet. Tiberius took huge deep gasps of the frozen air, as he lay on the very edge of the cliff he had climbed.

Finally Tiberius got to his feet and surveyed the cliff top. It was the highest point for hundreds of miles - a small plateau at the top of a truly huge mountain.
"What madness gripped me to make me climb this far?" He pondered aloud.
"I BeLiEvE I CaN aNsWeR ThAt."
Tiberius turned sharply in the direction of the voice. What he saw shocked him to his core. There, in the centre of the plateau, was a gigantic throne - made of corrupt black rock. Seated on the throne was a Daemon. A Daemon of the Chaos God Tzeentch. Shaped like a gigantic humanoid, but with the head and wings of a blue vulture, the Daemon was covered in white robes which bore the strange and sinister writings of the Warp. Its eyes burned with a golden fire, and its beak was lined with rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth.
"YoU cAmE sEeKiNg PoWeR." Said the Daemon triumphantly, its black breath staining the air. Tiberius recoiled in horror.
"I came seeking the Truth!" He yelled up at the monstrosity. The Daemon laughed maniacally, shaking the entire plateau.
"dO nOt DeNy It LiBrArIaN. AlL oF yOuR kInD dEsIrE pOwEr, iT iS tHe WaY yOu eVoLvEd. I cAn GiVe YoU wHaT yOu SeEk. I cAn gIvE yOu TrUe PoWeR."
Tiberius suddenly felt himself gripped by the same intense curiosity that had brought him here. The Daemon was right. Something inside him wanted the power it was offering. Then he remembered Martellus and his fellow Space Marines and his resolve hardened. He glared up at the Daemon with open hatred.
"I will not betray my Emperor, OR my Brothers, carrion!" He spat the last word like a curse. The Daemon's laugh became low and dangerous.
"EeEeEhEhEhEh..... ThEn Im AfRaId I mUsT mAkE yOu AcCePt... By FoRcE."

The Daemon rose from its throne and spread its wings, billowing black smoke from its mouth. It roared, charging forward. Tiberius roared back, standing his ground. He had no weapons, but Tiberius was a Librarian, his greatest weapon was his mind. The Daemon got close, and swung one of its clawed hands down at Tiberius.
"Feel the Power of the Righteous, Daemon!" Tiberius roared. His eyes shone with bright white light, and white flames shot up the Daemon's legs, spreading to its chest and arms. It staggered backwards, roaring in pain. Tiberius focused and his completely mechanical left fist began to glow the same fierce white as his eyes. As the daemon burned and screamed in pain, Tiberius whispered a last prayer, and then leapt high into the air - straight at the Daemon's chest. The entire plateau actually began to crack and crumble when Tiberius' fist connected with the Daemon's torso. The blow caved in its rib-cage, and in one surge of strength, Tiberius reached in and tore out it's foul heart. The creature began to thrash around wildly, its eyes rolling back into its head. Tiberius leapt backwards off the Daemon and lay panting on the last solid piece of the Plateau. The Daemon staggered and fell of the edge backwards, screaming and dying. It fell out of sight.

"Death to the Alien, the Mutant, the Heretic."