Mannix Godwyn III

Metatronous Godwin, also known as the Radiant, the “Scribe of The Emperor” or the Executioner, is the Luminarch of the IXth Legion; the Imperial Harbingers.
Revered as the Voice of the Emperor, and Chancellor of the Stellar Imperium. 
== History ==
=== Homeworld ===
Held in the Galactic West, Chthonia is a massive gas titan with a collection of smaller worlds, asteroids, and other celestial debris orbiting around it as Moons. Whilst Chthonian Primus, may be the largest of the group, it is the Secondary Chthonian Worlds that hold some of the most intriguing secrets and unique features of the ancient extraplanetary society.
The people of Chthonia have a storied history, having endured the challenging millennia of the Long Dark through sheer determination and ingenuity. With their Void-Capable star-ships, they have retained their rank as an small but influential force in the galaxy. The Chthonian Secondary Worlds are a total of five moons, each an independently governed body, held in orbit around Chthonia Primus. These worlds each have their own unique characteristics and histories that make them stand out in the vastness of space.
=== Conception & Birth–Codename: Starbreaker ===
In the Late 90th Millennium, the embryonic form of Mannix Godwyn—Upon the completion of the Emperor's highly secretive Prometheus Project, wherein he crafted the 20 Superhuman Luminarchs through the use of advanced alchemical and biomedical methods within his gene-laboratories housed deep within the Imperial Palace's Dark Vaults—would be left to gestate alongside his Kin deep under the Imperial Grand Palace, nestled deep within the Kilaminjant (Kilimanjaro) Mountain Ranges upon Terra.
Designed as a set of genetically-engineered super-organisms, Mannix and his Kin were created to possess incredible abilities and attributes that surpassed those of any natural born being. Every facet of their beings designed to be the perfect warriors and leaders for the oncoming Crusades the Emperor had planned. Destined to lead the Imperial Legions, and to usher in a new Age of Unity.
However, despite all the preparations taken and defenses laid, the fate of both Mannix and his Brethren would take an unexpected turn when an unknown force struck deep with the Palace. The exact nature and identity of this force have remained a mystery to this day, but the consequences of their clandestine operations have been undeniable.
The Luminarchs, though still embryonically vulnerable, were stolen from within their Gestation Pods, their gestalt beings rendered into psychic mist with only the Emperor’s inlaid defenses and psychic wards defending them against psionic predation as what was once defended within the heart of an Empire, was scattered across the vast expanses of the Milky Way Galaxy through the hungering eddies of the Empyric Void. 
Mannix, like the rest of his kin, had embarked through the swirling eddies of the void for both an endless infinite and a mere moment both simultaneously and instantaneously, due to the very shifting and ethereal nature of the Void. The relative time traveled by these Star-Children is near impossible to both record and accurately measure, With only Local Date Measurements of their respective Homeworlds and distance of said homeworld from Terra being reliable in ascertaining the exact date of their respective travel times. 
But, what can be made certain of is that just like all his brethren, Mannix upon the completion of his travel would be born to a Mortal Mother as a consequence of this Scattering. His psychic essence, flung far from distant Terra, would streak across the extrasolar orbit of the Chthos Star Cluster—and like a comet, pierced through the veil of unreality as his essence slammed through the Outer Vorandor Belt, haphazardly flinging astral debris as the veil quacked and echoed behind him. The Demigod’s essence, untethered and weightless, was left shattered by his voyage through the depths within the Ethereal Sea, for the embryonic soul was wounded by a most foul machination—Either Daemonic or otherwise.
The Shards, each twisting and coalescing with each other in an attempt to pull themselves back into one, would seek solace within the disparate yet interlaced vessels of nine mortal women of kindred blood. These women would become known to Imperial Historians as the nine daughters of the Godwyn Dynasty’s Ruling Patriarch, Mannix Godwyn, Second of His Name and Revered Lord Patriarch of the Godwyn Clan and with it the Wider Dynasty. 
The sudden and perplexing simultaneous pregnancies of the sisters, of which followed so closely to the Astral phenomena of the Luminarchal ascent, had stirred intrigue and curiosity within the Iron Triumvirate of the Godwyn, Ælfwynn, and Wulfhelm Dynasties, especially as many of the Patriarchs Nine daughters had already or soon were to be wedded to other Dynasts among the Noble Clans of the Triumvirate. Yet, as nobility flocked to the Palace Adamant, the shared Palace of The Triumvirate, used primarily as a Political Retreat for the houses would devolve into a verbal warzone as Arguments and slander flung about haphazardly through the High Courts as many a beleaguered lover and husband frantically sought out the truth of this new matter.
And for three days and nights arguments and tempers flared even as inspections were conducted on the sisters. Yet on the fourth day, the chorus within his halls would be silenced as the Patriarch’s voice echoed harshly across the court, for Mannix II, seconded by the opinions of his Scientists, Mystics and Holy Men had deduced this sudden advent to be a sign of future fortunes for the Dynasties of the Triumvirate. And upon the conclusion of a rather verbose and scathing speech He would send for his forces to collect his daughters and bring them back to their birth home upon the Reverence; the Minor Moon sized Star-Fort that had housed the Godwyn clan for millennia since its creation. So the sisters could live within its protection for the duration of their pregnancies.
These pregnancies, hailed as miraculous phenomena, unfolded with unprecedented speed and grace, defying the very laws of nature. In a mere span of one standard week since conception, the once tranquil confines of the medical bay where the sisters resided were engulfed in a cacophony of birthing cries and ethereal echoes that reverberated throughout the facility.
For forty-eight standard hours, the medical bay became a hive of activity as scientists and holy men alike tended to the nine sisters, each order fervently advocating for their respective methods of care. While the more fervent members engaged in heated debates, their more pragmatic counterparts set to work, with holy men performing sacred rites and burning soothing incense to calm the spirits, while apothecary doulas and obstetriators labored tirelessly to aid the mothers in bringing their children into the world.
Yet as the first cries of birth echoed through the vast Delivery Ward, signaling the arrival of new life into the world, an inexplicable event unfolded before the eyes of all present. A brilliant, radiant light of unparalleled intensity pierced through the air, bathing the room in its otherworldly glow. Gasps of shock and awe filled the chamber as the blinding illumination momentarily robbed some of their vision, leaving them disoriented and bewildered.
Amidst the chaos, a profound sense of dread began to settle over the room as the realization dawned upon the attendants that something was amiss. Where there should have been the tender embrace of newborns cradled in their arms, there was instead emptiness and confusion. Panic spread like wildfire as obstetriators frantically searched for the missing infants, while doulas worked tirelessly to comfort the distraught mothers whose arms now lay empty.
In the midst of this tumult, a glimmer of hope emerged from an unexpected source. Descending to the medical floor below, a young doula stumbled upon a miraculous sight: not nine, but a sole freckled infant nestled amidst the sterile surroundings as he dug through a nutrient store. His innocent eyes, a captivating shade of steely blue, gazed up at her with an otherworldly calmness as his tiny fingers reached out inquisitively.
Despite the incredulity of the situation, the doula wasted no time in scooping up the precious babe, his chubby cheeks smeared with the remnants of nutrient paste. With a mixture of astonishment and determination, she cradled the infant in her arms, his warmth a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty that gripped the ward. And so, with the weight of responsibility heavy upon her shoulders, she made her way back to the Delivery Ward, a lone figure in search of answers amidst the chaos that surrounded her.
==== The Little Nine Mothered Creature is Odd ====
As weeks stretched into months, the diligent staff of the Apothecarium tirelessly searched for any trace of the missing infants, but to no avail. Despite the exhaustive efforts of the scientists and scholars, who posited theories of abduction and otherworldly intervention, the holy men saw the event as a divine confirmation of their beliefs. The birth of the infant, foretold by the streaking comet across the star cluster, was heralded as a celestial gift bestowed upon the Godwyn Dynasty and the wider Triumvirate.
Amidst the ongoing investigations, both the devoted scientists and holy men delved deeper into the profound nature of the child's existence. The scientists marveled at the infant's superhuman biology, discovering intricate bioengineered coils intertwined within his sinews, and a plethora of redundant organs and biological structures coursing through his small frame.
However, to the holy men, these revelations were not merely scientific marvels, but divine manifestations of power. They saw the child as a vessel of celestial potency, a testament to the unfathomable might of their gods. In the intricate complexity of the infant's form, they beheld the handiwork of unseen deities, weaving their divine will through mortal flesh.
The incredulity of the scientists only deepened when, during a rare moment away from their constant scrutiny, the infant was found nestled in the arms of Saint Eadild, surrounded by a gathering of his sister-mothers within the main courtyard of the Reverence.
As Saint Eadild engaged in conversation with her sister Saehild, discussing matters of import during a meditation exercise led by the sanctioned Psycasts of the Wynfield Combat Regiments, the infant lay contentedly upon her lap, his keen steel-blue eyes observing the scene with a preternatural awareness.
In the tranquil courtyard, amidst the disciplined focus of the Psycasts, the infant's presence seemed to stir the very essence of the arcane energies swirling around them. As the Psycasts delved deeper into their meditation, channeling their psychic powers through precise bodily focal points, the infant emitted soft coos that resonated with the ethereal currents permeating the air.
But in a sudden and startling turn of events, the serene atmosphere was shattered as a Psycast's robes caught fire in a flash of otherworldly energy. Before the startled onlookers could react, another Psycast succumbed to the same fate, followed by yet another in rapid succession. Panic gripped the courtyard as the mysterious occurrences escalated.
Then, as if in response to the chaos unfolding around him, the infant's eyes blazed with a brilliant beam of paranormal energy, casting a mesmerizing glow that illuminated the surrounding area. The eruption of power ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving the courtyard engulfed in a stunned silence broken only by the piercing shriek of Eadild.
In the aftermath of the incident, as Eadild recoiled in shock, holding the infant on her lap, the infant reached out with tiny, outstretched arms, his coos now serving as a comforting balm amidst the chaos, as if seeking to reassure his distressed mother-aunt.
In the wake of the courtyard event, the halls of the Reverence buzzed with fervent discussion and debate as the implications of the infant's display of power rippled through the Triumvirate. The Holy Orders, emboldened by what they saw as a divine manifestation, found their faith reinforced, while the scientists grappled with the inexplicable nature of the child's abilities. Despite their attempts to cling to reason, they couldn't deny the undeniable aura of otherworldliness that surrounded the infant.
As the debates raged on, it became increasingly apparent that the child held a significance far beyond what anyone had initially imagined. Recognizing the monumental implications of his existence, the young Luminarch—born of the Nine Daughters of the Godwyn Dynasty's Patriarch—was hailed as the sole male heir of the esteemed dynasty. In a solemn ceremony steeped in tradition, he was bestowed with the name Mannix Godwyn III, a tribute to his revered grandfather and a symbol of his future role as the heir to the Godwyn legacy.
Aligned with the time-honored customs of the Godwyn Dynasty, the infant Luminarch's full integration into the familial fold would not come to pass until the celebration of his first complete year of life. It was then, amidst the grandeur of the Palace Adamant, situated upon the illustrious Godwyn Primary within the Thalara System—the very epicenter of the Iron Triumvirate's influence within the Outer Systems—that he would be formally welcomed into the embrace of his noble lineage. 
As the newest scion of the illustrious Godwyn Clan, the infant Mannix III was ceremoniously presented before the esteemed ruling elite of the Triumvirate. Gathered within the hallowed halls of the Palace Adamant, Mannix II, Second of His Name and Revered Lord Patriarch of the Godwyn Clan, stood alongside his allies: The Greywulves of the Wulfhelm Clan and the Iron Crests of the Ælfwynn House, accompanied by their respective retinues and advisors.
In the presence of these distinguished figures, a palpable sense of anticipation filled the air, mingling with the weight of centuries-old traditions and the gravity of the moment. As Mannix II stepped forward, cradling the infant Luminarch in his arms, the assembly fell silent, their eyes fixed upon the tiny figure that held within it the promise of a new era.
With solemn reverence, Mannix II addressed the gathered elite, his words echoing with conviction and a hint of awe. He spoke of the infant's remarkable abilities, of the inexplicable power that seemed to flow through his veins. But more than that, he spoke of a deeper truth—a truth that transcended the boundaries of their own world and reached out into the vast expanse of the cosmos.
For Mannix II and his allies, it became clear that the infant Mannix III was not merely a singular anomaly, but a living conduit—a bridge between their world and the forgotten civilizations that lay scattered throughout the stars. In him, they saw the potential for unparalleled discovery, for unlocking the mysteries of the universe and forging new alliances that spanned the reaches of space and time.
Thus, Mannix was not merely perceived by the entirety of the Iron Triumvirate as a mere envoy to some distant divine empire, but as an embodiment of hope and boundless possibility. From the moment of his birth, he was destined to be raised within the rich tapestry of Chthonian society, where his symbolic role and burgeoning skills would earn him widespread recognition and reverence under the banners of the Three Houses.
Under the watchful guidance of his esteemed grandfather Mannix II and the collective wisdom of the Triumvirate, Mannix III's upbringing was carefully curated to nurture his innate potential and prepare him for the weighty responsibilities that lay ahead. From his earliest days, he was immersed in the traditions and rituals of the Godwyn Clan, instilling within him a profound sense of duty and honor.
=== The Radiant ===
As the inexorable march of time unfolded its relentless cadence, Mannix found his near-sponge-like mind expanding at a rate that outpaced even his superhuman body. As barely into his tenth year of life, the young Lord had already mastered much of the advanced technology that surrounded him. From the intricacies of blade work to the alchemy of metallurgy, he absorbed knowledge like a parched land would drink in rain. His insatiable thirst for learning propelled him forward, driving him to explore every facet of Chthonian society with an insatiable curiosity.
By the time he reached his legal majority, Mannix had surpassed many of his teachers and mentors, who hailed from the most esteemed houses of the Iron Triumvirate. Wulfhelm Blade Masters, Godwyn Profit Barons, and Ælfwynn Logic Minds alike found themselves humbled in the presence of the young prodigy. Each challenge he encountered became an opportunity for growth, each obstacle a mere stepping stone on his path to mastery.
As Mannix's body continued to mature, he soon physically outpaced the men who once stood at his side. By his nineteenth birthday, he had surpassed three meters in height, towering over those whom he had once regarded as equals in his youth.
With his newfound stature came a hunger for greater challenges. No longer satisfied with mere mortal opponents, Mannix sought out larger game, pitting himself against the formidable Wynfield Pattern Colossi Battlesuits. These towering machines, armed with Strinda-Pattern Greatswords and Twin-Linked Autocannons, were the only adversaries large enough to match his imposing figure. Yet even in these epic duels, Mannix found himself yearning for more. The mechanical armors, while impressive in their own right, were little more than lumbering tin-men compared to his superhuman bulk.
Disillusioned by the tales of the battlesuits' prowess in the century-long wars of old, Mannix felt a simmering anger rise within him. With a command that brooked no argument, he ordered the pilot of the massive machine to exit its armored shell, fearing the wrath of his demigod-like lord.
As the pilot hastily complied, Mannix's grip tightened around the hilt of his blade. With a fluid motion born of years of training, he swung his weapon with expert precision, the blade cleaving through metal and circuitry alike. In a flash of steel and sparks, the once formidable battlesuit was reduced to a twisted wreckage of shattered limbs and smoking hull plating.
The echoes of the destruction reverberated through the chamber, the ancient battle platform, a most formidable creation of his ancestors' engineering genius, now left nothing more than a heap of scrap metal. Its actuators screeched in protest as the joints whirred to a deadened stop.
It would be there wherein the Young Lord was finally scolded for the first time for his actions. As many a Godwyn engineer and Armorer flocked to the shattered wonder, calling for censure from the Dynasty’s Patriarch to be levied upon their Young Lord even as the titan of a youth was seen inspecting the wreckage he had caused upon the armor.
Recognizing the need for a resolution, the Patriarch decreed that Mannix would be confined to his chambers, isolated from the outside world to ponder the gravity of his actions. Despite the protests of the court, Mannix agreed to this punishment, with one condition: to be left undisturbed, even by the chambermaids and servants who attended to his needs, save for the delivery of his meals. Instead, he requested to be allowed to bring the shattered warplate into his chambers, so that he could contemplate its destruction in solitude. Whether he truly sought penance or harbored ulterior motives remained to be seen.
=== Veneration Arma ===
==== The Mothers Beyond the Door ====
Locked within the confines of his bedchambers within the Observatory Tower of the Palace Adamant’s High-Spire, Mannix remained in his imposed solitary contemplation for a month, isolated from the outside world as he worked behind the silent door. It was not until his grandfather, the Patriarch, deemed his penance to be fulfilled that he ventured to his grandson's chamber to retrieve him.
Knocking gently on Mannix's door, the Patriarch called out to his grandson with warmth in his voice, eager to reunite with the young lord. However, his calls were met with silence, causing a flicker of concern to cross the Patriarch's face. Undeterred, he persisted, hoping to coax Mannix out with the promise of his mothers longing to see him once again.
Yet, still, there was no response from behind the chamber door. The Patriarch's smile waned, replaced by a furrowed brow as worry gnawed at him. Sensing something amiss, he reluctantly retreated, pushing his concerns to the back of his mind.
Days turned into weeks, and still, Mannix did not emerge from his chamber. The Patriarch returned twice more, each time met with the same eerie silence from within.
Growing increasingly distraught, the Patriarch enlisted the help of Mannix's nine mothers, urging them to coax their apportioned son out of his seclusion. But despite their efforts, Mannix remained hidden behind closed doors, his silence echoing through the corridors of the Palace Adamant.
As each of Mannix's mothers took their turn to call out to him, their voices filled with varying degrees of concern, the echoes of their pleas reverberated through the empty corridors of the Palace Adamant. From the eldest to the youngest, they each expressed their worry for their son, their voices a chorus of apprehension.
Brichtrethe, the eldest, called out with a mixture of exasperation and concern, her usual distance softened by worry. Aethelthryd, the second eldest, spoke with determination, setting aside any perceived rivalry to express her genuine concern for her son. Coenburga, the third eldest, spoke with authority yet gentleness, her authoritative demeanor tempered by her genuine worry. Wuderoua, the fourth eldest, approached with trembling hands, her love for her son overshadowed by her fear for his well-being.
Ealdgifu, the fifth eldest, called out with a wavering voice, her bond with Mannix now strained by his mysterious disappearance. Aylyld, the third youngest, expressed her worry with youthful sadness, her admiration for the boy clouded by fear. Saehild, the second youngest, spoke softly, her reclusive nature overridden by her concern for her son's safety.
Eadild, the youngest before Athilda, approached with a nurturing spirit, her usual source of comfort now replaced by worry. Finally, Athilda, the youngest of all, called out urgently, her swift movements hindered by the weight of her concern.
But despite their pleas and their varying tones, Mannix remained hidden behind closed doors, his silence a haunting presence in the palace. With each unanswered call, the sisters' worry deepened, their minds consumed by fear and uncertainty as they turned away from Mannix's chamber door, their hearts heavy with concern for the beloved Lord.
And so it remained, the boy’s room silent, and for months more, the sisters languished in sorrow as they waited for their son to return to them. His bedroom door remained untouched and unmoved within his tower, a silent testament to his continued isolation.
Yet, it would only be upon the anniversary of the start of his imposed isolation, a complete standard year later, when the chamber door finally creaked open, his steps heavy against the floors of the halls, the whirring of actuators enunciating each movement as he silently walked through the corridors of the Palace Adamant.
As he passed, the guards froze in a mix of panic and apprehension at the sight of the iron-clad titan, his towering frame wrapped in a suit of armor formed from the corpse of a Colossi, each step resonating with power and purpose. His presence commanded attention and respect, yet there was an air of somberness that hung around him.
Finally, the titan reached the grand hall, where the Patriarch’s Throne stood, flanked by his nine daughters. With a graceful yet imposing stride, the titan knelt before the startled Elder, his armor’s actuators humming softly as they adjusted to the movement. Kneeling before his grandfather, he sought forgiveness for the pain and worry he had caused with his continued solitude.
But his words were cut short as his mothers rushed forward, enveloping him in a cascade of embraces and affection. Their tears mingled with his own as they welcomed him back into their arms, their love and forgiveness washing over him like a cleansing tide.
And so the Young Lord chuckled softly, his laughter a warm balm that eased the tension in the air. With arms outstretched, he returned the collective embrace, enfolding each of his mothers in turn within his mighty embrace. Despite his towering form and the weight of responsibility that rested upon his broad shoulders, in that moment, he seemed every bit the carefree youth they remembered from his childhood.
==== The Prince within The Tower ====
=== Rediscovery ===
== Personalty ==
== Wargear ==
* Absolution: The same enormous sulthan that Metatronous was given as a child on Chthonia, Absolution has since shrunk in comparison to its metahuman owner. Upon making contact with the Imperium, Absolution was given to Terran artificers. It emerged again having been hollowed out and fitted with a power field, meaning Metatronous could swing it as easily as if it were his own hand while carving through all in his path.
* Devotion: Extensively worked in the Xth Legion’s forges, Metatronous’ shield would be equipped with a field generator which could negate full scale artillery fire.
* Piety: A hand cannon of prodigious size seemingly conjured to the Luminarchs grasp at need, there was always some debate even among Metatronous' Legion whether this powerful Plasmor Weapon was truly a device or simply a manifestation of his psychic powers in physical form.
* Veneration: Commonly dressed in baroque power armor of alternating white and blue carbonite and silver, Metatronous also wore a dark cerulean velvet cloak and an unfurled eagle-wing Imperial motif was heavily present on much of his wargear, most notably on a decorative section of his armor that rose above the shoulders. It was said to be constructed from the same Furo-adamantine alloy as the Emperor's own personal combat armor. Befitting a warrior whose first sets of armor were forged by House Gadwin, Metatronous armor augments his strength beyond its already staggering levels, the Mantle of Huron has enabled him to endure all manner of attacks.
* Void Scrolls: As the scribe of the Emperor, the Void Scrolls are said to depict Void Sorceries practiced by the Emperor himself, aiding Metatronous in the banishment of Powerful Greater Daemons by just the esoteric art of Enuncio Sorceries.
Category:Character
Category:Luminarch
Category:Imperium