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CONTENTS

CoverBacklistTitlePageWarhammer40,000PARTITheSerpent’sEggSpittingVenomTurningTailTheViper’sNestPARTIISnakeEyesSnakeOilOnceBittenColdBloodedABreedApartSlitherPARTIIITurningTheScalesSecondSkinPARTIVSeaSerpentsTheShrewdnessofSerpentsForkedTonguesSheddingSkinSerpentsBeneathPoliticalAnimalPARTV

ToCutTheHeadFromTheHydraPoisonedHeartsSerpentsChangeTheirSkin,NotTheirFangsSnakesAliveTheReptilianBrainOuroborosAbouttheAuthorAnExtractfrom‘ShroudofNight’ABlackLibraryPublicationeBooklicense

WARHAMMER40,000

Itisthe41stmillennium.FormorethanahundredcenturiestheEmperorhassatimmobileontheGoldenThroneofEarth.Heisthemasterofmankindbythewillofthegods,andmasterofamillion

worldsbythemightofhisinexhaustiblearmies.HeisarottingcarcasswrithinginvisiblywithpowerfromtheDarkAgeofTechnology.HeistheCarrionLordoftheImperiumforwhomathousandsoulsare

sacrificedeveryday,sothathemaynevertrulydie.

Yeteveninhisdeathlessstate,theEmperorcontinueshiseternalvigilance.Mightybattlefleetscrossthedaemon-infestedmiasmaofthe

warp,theonlyroutebetweendistantstars,theirwaylitbytheAstronomican,thepsychicmanifestationoftheEmperor’swill.Vastarmiesgivebattleinhisnameonuncountedworlds.Greatestamongst

HissoldiersaretheAdeptusAstartes,theSpaceMarines,bio-engineeredsuper-warriors.Theircomradesinarmsarelegion:theAstraMilitarumandcountlessplanetarydefenceforces,theever-

vigilantInquisitionandthetech-priestsoftheAdeptusMechanicustonameonlyafew.Butforalltheirmultitudes,theyarebarelyenoughtoholdofftheever-presentthreatfromaliens,heretics,mutants–and

worse.

Tobeamaninsuchtimesistobeoneamongstuntoldbillions.Itistoliveinthecruellestandmostbloodyregimeimaginable.Thesearethetalesofthosetimes.Forgetthepoweroftechnologyandscience,forsomuchhasbeenforgotten,nevertobere-learned.Forgetthepromiseofprogressandunderstanding,forinthegrimdarkfuturethereisonlywar.Thereisnopeaceamongstthestars,onlyaneternityofcarnage

andslaughter,andthelaughterofthirstinggods.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––Haveyoueverwatchedaserpentcross theburningsands?Watchedoneslitherbeneaththesurfaceofthesea?Theyarecreaturesoflethalbeauty.Theymovewithaconfidenteconomy,cautionandgrace.–––––––– –––––––––– –––––––––– –––––––––––––––– ––––––––––––––– –––– ––––––– ––––– –––––––––––– ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– ––– ––––––– –––––––––– –––––– ––––––––– ––– – –– –––––––––––––––––––––Ofourpath,Icanonlysaythis.Wearetheserpentthatslidesandwinds,appearing to head this way and then that, all the while our movementtaking us ever forward. While our brothers have fallen wholesale tostagnation and damnation, we have retained our identity and purpose.––––––––––– ––––––––––––––– –––––– –––––––––––––––– –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––Outsidersstruggletocomprehendourmotives.Totheprincesprimordialwearealliesuncertain.Weareunmovedbythelivingliesofthexenos.TotheailingImperium,withitsmyriadafflictions,wearebothpoisonandantidote.Wesuffer themall,as theysufferus––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––ItisthewayofourLegion.Thewaywehavemadeit.The way it has to be. For we are the most necessary of evils and thedestinies we craft for others, as well as our own, cannot be denied.–––––––––––––––– ––– ––––––––––– –– ––– – ––––––––– ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

–creditedAlphariusOmegon,PrimarchoftheXXLegion,at–––––––––––––––(circ.9–––123.M––)

PARTI

‘FORTHEEMPEROR!’

αTHESERPENT’SEGG

‘Initiateburn.’Themachine-spiritoftheDreadclawSerpent’sEggregisteredthecommandandresponded,theAlphaLegiondroppodbreakingawayfromthemainswarmofcultistvessels.Armouredassaultboats,humpshuttlesandorbital lighterswereleftbehindastheDreadclawrocketedaheadoftheflotillaofadaptedboardingcraft.While theDreadclawstreakedsilentlyacross thevoid, the roarof theancientrocketenginescouldbefeltthroughthepod’sreinforcedsuperstructure,throughthetroopcompartment,thefloorhatchandthedescentcradles.Cagedinoneofthese and surrounded by heavy-duty pneumatics, gravitic dampeners andinertials, was Lord Occam. Occam of the Alpha Legion. Occam the Untrue.Strikemasterandleaderofthewarbandknownas‘theRedacted’.‘Aftpictcaster,’Occamordered,hisvoiceacold-bloodedhiss.Hecouldhearthe evenness of his breathing feeding back across the vox of his serpent-headhelm,alongwiththatofhisfivepower-platedcompanions.Again, the craft’smachine-spirit complied,with almost reptilian indifference.The runescreen mounted in front of Occam’s command cradle sizzled beforecrystallising into a pict-feed of the craft left behind by the Dreadclaw’sacceleration.Hesurveyedthescenewiththeconfidenceofamastertactician,theoverlaysofhisplateoptics flushedwith identicaandestimatesofvelocityanddistance.While theDreadclawcarried theRedactedwithin its pitted, viridian hull, thefreightcompartmentsofthetrailingcultshipswerepackedwithmembersoftheSeventh Sons. Each amask-wearing death cultist, the Seventh Sons and theirdisciplesweredevotedkillerstoaman.TheywerefeverishlyloyaltoOccamtheUntrueandhissmallbandofmercilesstraitors.FaithfultothearchenemyAlpha

Legion.DevotedtoanImperiumofchaosandconfusion.‘Boardingharrowontarget,’theAlphaLegionstrikemasterannounced.‘Cyclehullcasters.’OnebyonethehullexteriorpictcastersgaveOccamathree-hundred-and-sixty-degreeviewof thehazyvoid and theAbsinthia systembeyond.Half thevoidwasdominatedbythesunburstsmearoftheMaelstrom.Thedistantwarpstormragedoninsilence.Within theAbsinthia system itself, sun-hugginggasgiants and rockyoutlierswerejustvisiblethroughthedust.Planets,shatteredbyancient,apocalypticwarsagainst long-dead xenos races, orbited their system star in crumbling stability.These dead worlds were crowded with a blizzard of haulage brigs and thebaroque platforia of orbital mining operations. Their exposed, ore-rich coreswereplunderedbycharteredhordesofenvironment-suitedguildslaves.Alsoinwideorbit around theAbsinthia starwere systemdefenceplatformsand smallvoid forts. With a small flotilla of system ships, patrolling monitors andadamanticlads,theyprovidedsecurityfortheminingworldsandprotectionfromthecorsairsandpirates thatprowled thesub-sectorsbordering thewarpstorm.Thisprovedhardlynecessary,however,sincethecapitalworldoftheAbsinthiasystem, Vitrea Mundi, was the Adeptus Astartes home world of the MarinesMordant.‘Forwardcasters,’Occamsaid.Ahead of theSerpent’sEggwasVitreaMundi itself: a large, bleak planet ofsmokywhite.Theminingworldhadbeenhome to theUltramarines successorChapterforsixthousandyears.Theplanet’slandscapewasdominatedbygiantsalt crystals and systems of soda lakes. Amongst the scarring of open-castcraters,VitreaMundiboastedbutonecity.Visible fromorbit,SalinaCitywassettled like a dark polar smudge about themighty ‘Bas-Silica’ – the fortress-monasteryoftheMarinesMordant.High above the planet, Occam could see the wreck of the battle-bargeAssiduous, freshly returned fromcoreward sectorswhere theMarinesMordanthad lost two companies of battle-brothers to Hive Fleet Leviathan. Acid-splashed and battle-damaged, the venerable vessel had barelymade it back toVitrea Mundi. Caged in orbital scaffolding and surrounded by AdeptusMechanicusforgetenders,thebattle-bargewasundergoingextensiverepairs.ItwasherethatthetargetoftheRedactedlay.In truth, theRedactedwere but one of a number ofAlpha Legionwarbandsoperatingwithin theAbsinthiasystem.LikeOccam’ssmallbandof renegades,

theyweregatheredunder thebannerofQuetzelCarthach–Angelbane,MasterofHarrows andArch-Lord of theAlpha Legion. The disparatewarbands hadcome together under his leadership like a pack of opportunistic death worldpredators. While retaining their own character, leaders and motivations, thewarbandsjoinedCarthachandhisown–theSonsoftheHydra–formutualdarkglory.Together, under the banner of theSonsof theHydra, theAlphaLegioncellshadsecuredvictories thatcouldnotbeachievedalone.Like theone theywerecurrentlytryingtosecureagainsttheMarinesMordant.‘Scrambling augur returns,’ Occam said, flicking switches. Addressing themachine-spirit of theSerpent’sEgg once more, the strike master told it, ‘Cutthrustandrolltoport.’

MinaPerditamadeherwaythroughthecargocompartmentofthebulklighter.Insteadofpalletsoffreighttobeshuttledbetweensprinttradersandaplanetarysurface, the craftwas crammedwith cultists.Recruited and liberated from thepenalcoloniesofKorsino421,wheretheAlphaLegionhadalreadyensuredthatserpentcults,deathcultsandritualsacrificeheldsway, theSeventhSonsweredevoted to themurderous needs of their legionary saviours. Dressed in dustyrobes, scraps of armour and gorgonesque masks, the Sons still wore theirexplosive penitentiary collars about their necks. Decorated in the form ofserpents,thecollarsweretheultimatesignofsubservientloyaltytotheirLegionmasters.Thecultistsandtheirdisciplesstoodinunwaveringdiscipline,waitingfor thesignal to unleash their talents. They held their venom-slick blades and needlepistols close to their bodies, however, andmoved aside forMinaPerdita.TheSeventhSonswereritualkillersandserpentcultiststoaman,butallrespectedtheartofdeathasitwasrepresentedinPerdita’shallowedflesh.ShecamefromtheclandestinetemplesoftheOfficioAssassinorum.DressedlikeaSeventhSon,shecarriedacultmaskasshepassedthroughthecrowd.Herfacewasalreadynotherown,however,theeffectsofpolymorphineadaptinghersurgicallymodifiedfleshtobecomealivinglie.Onedayshemightbe female, and the next, male. Dark-skinned and then light. Her face couldassumethebrokenbrutalityofahiveworldgangerorthecleanpatricianlinesofspirenobility.Shewaseveryoneandnoone.Such was the Assassin’s devotion to her calling that few could evenremember–includingPerdita–whethershehadoriginallybeenmanorwoman.Whileretainingthenameandpronoun,shewasjustathomeinthesemblanceof

one as the other. Sometimes, for perversity’s sake, she made it deliberatelydifficultforotherstotell.Regardlessofherlethalabilitiesandgiftfordeception,MinaPerditaknewthatthe criminals and cultists wouldn’t lay a finger on her. For like the HighSerpent–theleaderoftheirdeathcult–MinaPerditaanswereddirectlytoLordOccam.Shewasanagentandoperativefortheirdemigodoverlords,andassuchhadtheearofthedreadwarriorsoftheLegion.Pullingherselfuptheladderwellwithgymnasticease,Perditafoundherselfinthecrampedcockpitof the lighter.WhileaSeventhSonsat in thepilot’sseat,theHighSerpentloungedattheco-pilot’sstation.Portlyandsportingatop-knotthatdrapeddownthebackofhisshavedhead,theHighSerpenthadthrownhisownmaskcasuallyuponthestationconsole.Perditagruntedbeforeallowingthefleshof her face to tremble and spasm into the semblanceof oneof theHighSerpent’strusteddisciples.FreydorBlatch–leaderoftheSeventhSons–didnotlookliketheheadofadeathcult.Unlikehis followers,Blatch lacked thephysicalprowessand sharpreflexesofakiller.Theonlysharpfeatureheboastedwashistongueandthewitthat proceeded from his thin lips.His ears jangledwith hoops and cult icons,whilehischubbyarmswereentwinedinserpentinebracelets.Hehadevenhadthe rolls of belly fat protruding fromhis cult robes tattooed to appear like thecoilsofagreatsnake.Sittingatthestationandstaringoutintothedust-stainedvoid,theHighSerpentlookedpositivelybored.‘Perdita,’Blatch acknowledged, spinning lazily around in the co-pilot’s chairandgivingthediscipleacasuallook.‘Gladyoucouldjoinus.Theshowisabouttobegin.’TheAssassindidn’tbothertochange,keepingthethick-neckedappearanceofthe disciple. Perdita was unsurprised that Blatch had recognised her.Polymorphine,syn-skinandthepractisedskillsofanactresswereenoughtofoolmost people. Theywere not nearly enough to fool Blatch, however, who hadlongbeeninthebusinessofdeceivingothers.MostofthetimetheHighSerpentrecognisedher,butevenhehadhisblindspots.Aconsummatecharlatan,FreydorBlatchhadmade ithis life’swork tomovebetweentheranksoftheEcclesiarchyandthecultishgroupsofhereticsfesteringin theunderbellyofvariouscardinalworlds.Perditahadheard thatBlatchhadgrownuponLaurentiaSecundus, aScholaProgeniumprodigy.Awastrel, tooimpressedwithhimselftosettleforthelifehisdrill-abbotshadplannedforhim,Blatchhadmovedabout theEcclesiarchicalplanetsof theCrozierWorlds like

interstellar flotsam. Assuming the guise of pontiffs and cult figureheads withfraudulent ease, Blatch had garnered wealth and influence. That was beforecomingtotheattentionoftheAlphaLegionandacceptinganofferfromOccamtheUntruethathecouldnotaffordtorefuse.MinaPerditacouldneitherhaveacceptednorrefusedsuchanoffer.HertempletrainingandbrutalOfficioAssassinorumindoctrinationmadechoiceanillusion.TheHolyOrdosoftheInquisitionhaddespatchedhertoinfiltratetheSonsoftheHydra and assassinateQuetzelCarthach,Arch-Lord of theAlphaLegion. Shehad failed, and death would have awaited her if it hadn’t been for theinterventionofLordOccam.Disguisingher failureas thatofanother,Occamtookherashisprisoner.Toovaluablea tool tobeallowed to rot in a cell, hebrokeher.He shatteredMinaPerditaandreassembledwhatwasleftintosomethingbothlethalandloyal.Nowshe was his. Keeping knowledge of Perdita’s infiltration and intendedassassination from Carthach himself, Occam the Untrue engaged her lethaltalentsfortheRedacted.Andso,thatwashowatrainedkillerandaprofessionalconartistcametoworkfortherenegadeSpaceMarinesoftheAlphaLegion.‘Aren’tyouwatchingit?’Blatchsaidtothepilot,gettingoutofhisseattoslapthecultistacrossthebackofhisshavedhead.Perdita narrowed her eyes and peered through the cockpit canopy. TheDreadclawdroppodcarryinghermastershadstreakedoffbeforeshuttingdownits thrusters.Like awarped andblossoming flower, the rolling podopened itslanding claws, beneath which lurked the venomous threat of Alpha Legioninfiltrators.Blatchleantforwardanddepressedavoxstudontheco-pilotconsole,encodinganopenchannel:‘Allcraft–cutthrust.’LiketheDreadclaw,theflotillaofcultistboardingcraftkilledtheirenginesanddrifted with inertial grace towards the Assiduous. The Assassin felt thedeceleration through thedeckandreachedup tosteadyherselfagainst the lowceilingofthecockpit.ShewatchedtheSerpent’sEgg hurtletowardstheAdeptusAstartesflagship,thebattle-scarredbehemothseemingtogrowbeforethesilentadvanceofthelonepod.Thelaunchbayofthebattle-barge’shammerheadprowsectiongapedopenbeforethespinningDreadclaw,likethemouthofsomegreatbeastofthevoid.PerditalookedbetweenFreydorBlatchandtheSeventhSonco-pilot.‘Scramblers?’shesaid,heradoptedvoicedeep.‘Scrambleaugurreturns,’Blatchblurtedacrosstheopenchannel,attemptingto

hidethefactthathehadforgotten.‘Allcraft–engagescramblers.’Minutes passed in heart-thumping silence as the cultist flotilla followed theSerpent’sEgg in on its clandestine approach. Despite the acid burns runningalongitsflankandscaffoldedsectionsbearingbitedamagecausedbysomethinglike a colossal beak, the capital shipwas an imposing sight. Perdita could seemacrocannons, fusion beamers and hull-mounted plasma projectors, themonstrousbarrelsofwhichwereall aimed forwardat theapproaching flotilla.Withsuchweaponry,itwouldtakenothingforsuchacrafttowipetheRedactedcleanfromthefaceofthevoid.‘Brothers,’ Perdita heard the High Serpent say across the open channel, hisvoiceechoingthroughthecargoholdsofbulklighters,modifiedhaulagebrigs,humpshuttlesandassaultboats.‘Serpents.SeventhSonsall.Wemakeourfinalapproach – our mighty lords, as they do in all things, leading the way. TheEmperor’sservantshidewithinthethickhullsoftheirbattleshipsandbehindthetoweringwallsoftheirfortresses.Indoingso,theyprovethemselvesunworthyofHim.AstheMasterofMankindsacrificedhimselfforhumanity’scontinuedsurvival,sowesacrificetheweakuponthealtarofhisefforts.FortheImperiumdeserves only the strong. The enduring of flesh. The certain of mind. Thoseresolved inbodyandspirit todowhatmustbedone–nomatter thecost– torealisetheEmperor’strueandmanifestdestiny…’As theDreadclaw sizzled through the atmospheric screensof the launchbay,the flotilla drifting in behind, its presence hidden from augur arrays andunnoticedbyAdeptusMechanicus constructshard atworkon exterior repairs,Blatchreleasedthevoxstud.‘Etcetera,etcetera…’

βSPITTINGVENOM

OccamtheUntrueknewtheAssiduoustohaveaglorioustraditionofvictory.Ithad fought broadside to broadside against the Despoiler-class battleshipSacrilegionary on the edgeof theMaelstrom, destroying theChaos flagship –long lost toSlaaneshidevianceandmutinyover five thousandyearsbefore. Ithad rammed aside greenskin space hulks of the Octarian Empire during theVolvoxWars.Ithadsurvivedthetyranidhordesandgreatdevouringbio-shipsofHiveFleetLeviathan.NoteventhesuccessorsonsofGuilliman,withtheirritualandstalestrategies,sawtheAlphaLegioncoming.‘Standbyforhigh-speedinsertionandimpact,’OccamtoldthelegionnairesoftheRedacted.Heheardthecreakoftighteningcradlesupportsandstraps.HefelttheSerpent’sEggbuckandwobbleasthewickedtipsofthepod’soutstretchedlandingclawsmadecontactwiththebattle-scarredcraftwaitingonthepolishedflight deck. Cycling through the casters, Occam watched the kaleidoscopicprogressof theDreadclaw.Likeabulletentering fleshandbouncingoffbone,the pod ripped and ricocheted its way through the busy launch bay. TheuncheckedvelocityoftheSerpent’sEggbatteredThunderhawksaside,topplingthevenerablecraft.Orbitaltransporterswerehookedandtornfromtheirlandinggears and cable restraints, smashing into tracked trundles of munitions andequipment. Claws pierced the hull plating of Adeptus Astartes landers andlighters. The craft were catapulted across the bay into acid-splashed LandRaiders and armoured personnel carriers, newly chained down into theirtransportanddiagnosticpositions.Occam felt the forces tear throughhis genetically engineeredbody.After thesilkyabsenceofgravityinthevoid,thesensationwasunpleasant.Themachine-spirit of his plate registered its protestations while the Dreadclaw clunked,screechedandthundereditswaythroughtheunfoldinghavocofthelaunchbay.

Thewarbandwerethrownviolentlythiswayandthatbytheimpacts,directionalchangesandbrutaldeceleration.Thecradleinertialsandthehydraulicsoftheirplatetooktheworstofthepunishment.Eachlegionnairehadbeenblessedwiththe constitution of a demigod. Slabs of muscle and the resilience of blackcarapaceandboneabsorbedforcesthatwouldhavetornanordinarymanapart.‘Retract landing claws,’ the strike master told the machine-spirit of theSerpent’sEgg.Throughthecrackedrunescreen,Occamsawsparksshowerafterthedroppodlikethetailofacometasitmadecontactwiththeflightdeck.Thetroop compartment was filled with the excruciating reverberation of metalscrapingagainstmetal.Before long, the Dreadclaw left the pandemonium of upturned gunships,smashed tanksandscatteredsuppliesbehind.Occam’sgauntlethoveredby themanualignitionofthedecelerationthrusters.Ordinarily,suchsystemswouldbeused for atmospheric stability and landing.Occam found, however, that bone-joltingcollisionsandthefrictioncreatedbythebayfloorwereenoughtobringthedroppodtoahalt.Likeaneggtwirlingslowlyonitsside,theDreadclawcametoaslowhalt.Asitdid,thesurvivingpictcasterstoldOccamallheneededtoknowaboutthehavochehadcausedoutside.Asplanned,theapproachoftheSerpent’sEgghadgoneunnoticed. The Dreadclaw’s landing, conversely, was a bombasticannouncement.ThelaunchbaywaslitteredwithbatteredattackcraftbearingthecoloursandmarkingsoftheMarinesMordant.TheAdeptusAstartesthemselves,however,werenowheretobeseen.Instead, theflightdeckwasdecoratedwiththe broken bodies of bonded servitors and Chapter serfs. Servo-automata andwingedcherubimthathadbeenworkingon thegunshipsaspartof flightdeckcrewdriftedoverthelifelessbodies.Occamcouldfeelthedetonationsofupskittledmunitionsandshatteredlandersthroughthehullandflightdeckbelow.Throughtheremainingcastershecouldseethatfuelfromimpact-breachedpromethiumbarrelshadcaughtlightandwascloaking the disordered flight deck in a black haze. Klaxons were sounding,summoningserfsectionsfromotherpartsofthebattle-barge.Whilethesmashedservitors remained on the deck, waiting for the assistance of compatriotconstructs – as protocol dictated –Chapter bondsmenwere already getting totheir feet.Clutching shattered limbs and bleeding down their flak tabards andhooded tunics, the bondsmenwere resilient.Occamknew them to be devotedservantsoftheChaptercultandassuchtheywouldrespondswiftlytotheattack.HealsokneweachonetobeanunsuccessfulSpaceMarineaspirant.Theywere

livingembodimentsof failureanduntappedpotential.TheAlphaLegionnairesoftheRedactedwouldbemorethanamatchforthem.‘Prepare to open hatch,’ Occam said, prompting the machine-spirit of theDreadclawtoreleasethepressuresealswithaclunk.Atthesametime,thelocksofthedescentcradlescleared,allowingtheAlphaLegionnairescagedwithintoextricatethemselveswitheconomy.Lying on its side, the drop pod was not oriented for an effective dispersal.Climbingdownthroughthecradles,theRedactedjoinedOccamashekneltontheshatteredinstrumentationofthedroppodwall.Thelegionnairesdroppedtoonekneewith theirstrikemaster.Eachwasaclandestinenightmare,garbed inrenegadeplate and clutchingweaponry thatwas a heretical fusionof Imperialandxenostechnologies.Thesixrenegadeswaited,cladintarnishedviridian.Theirghoulishformswereairbrushedintheneon-blueradianceof theirplasmagunswhileadaptedopticsburnedredintheirserpentinehelms.Acameleolinecloakwasdrapedacrossonepauldron,while theotherwasemblazonedwith thedreadsymbolof the three-headed hydra. The surface of the legionnaires’ stylised armourwas crafted toappearlikescales,eachplatesizzlingwiththestaticofanadvancedopticalfieldthatshimmeredacrossthecoolceramite.‘Readyhatch,aye,’EphronHasdrubal said, theAlphaLegionsergeant takingpositionattheegress.Hishelmwaslostinthedarknessofacameleolinehood,withonlyhisopticsvisible.‘Ready, aye,’ Arkan Reznor and Carcinus Quoda confirmed, flanking thesergeant, the Alpha Legion warpsmith and sorcerer waiting for the order todisembark.Whilebothwere armedwith theirownequipment, thepair carriedsquad weaponry at their strike master’s insistence. At a glance, at least, theRedacted were to be one: uniform in darkness, identical in purpose andindistinguishableinthesightsoftheenemyfromoneanother.‘Aye,’VilniusMalik said behindOccam, the young legionnaire clutching hiscombi-plasma gun in tight to his shoulder. The hulkingAutolicon Phex kneltbesidehimbutsaidnothing.QuetzelCarthachhadcutPhex’stongueoutandhaddonealotworsetothelegionnaire.Phexacknowledgedhisstrikemasterwithatweak of his plasma cannon’s coil regulator, causing the searing hum of theheavyweapontodieawaybrieflyandthenreturntointensity.‘FortheEmperor,’OccamtheUntruehissed,‘whoknowsnotwhatisdoneinhisname.Positions.’TheRedactedgatheredaboutAutoliconPhex,whojangledwithgrenadesand

spare hydrogen canisters. Occam nodded. Sergeant Hasdrubal popped themanualreleaseonthehatch.Likeafangedmouth,sectionsofthehatchbegantoretract,revealingthelaunchbaybeyond.ThetacticaldisplaysofOccam’shelmzeroed in immediately on moving targets outside the drop pod. With eachglowing blink of the lenses, augur-overlays cycled briefly through differentspectra–infraredfiltering,ultravioletresonance,motionsensors.‘The welcoming party,’ Arkan Reznor said, selecting three small servo-automatathatsatlikegrenadesonhisbelt.Theirserpentineskullsweregilded,whiletheirrepulsorhousingwasasmallclinkeredshell.Likeachildwindingupaclockworktoy,thewarpsmithactivatedhisretinueofdronesdesignatedBeta,Zeta andTheta.Hanging in the air on powerful repulsors, the servo-automataallowed a small nest of mechatendrils to uncoil and writhe with serpentinemotion.Whilebroken-backed servitors, auxilia andbondsmen littered the launchbay,deckserfsinChaptercoloursranforwardfromthesectionblastdoor,thumbingbolt shells into assault shotguns. Intent on repelling the boarders, the serfsconverged upon the Serpent’s Egg and hammered the Dreadclaw’s hull andopeninghatchwithpump-actionblasts.‘Introduceus,’Occamcommandedasthehatchclunkedopenandabolt-roundshot by his helm. With a hiss of sub-molecular conversion, Autolicon PhexunleashedaragingblastofplasmaoutoftheDreadclaw.Almostasbroadasthehatch opening, the furious orb shot out across the flight deck like a blue sun,leaving behind a glowing trail of hydrogen. The impactwas devastating. Theglobeofplasmawouldnotbestopped,blazingthroughthrongsofChapterserfsandwiping them fromexistence.The robes of those nearby caught fire at theintenseheatoftheblast’spassingandbecamethrashingblueinfernos.‘Away,’Reznorsaid,allowinghisservo-automatatoswoopoutofthehatch.‘Centrobaricformation,’Occamordered.‘Establishpositionanddrawthemin.’‘Aye,’ the Redacted returned, lowering their helms and jumping through thehatch. Dropping down to the flight deck with a flourish of their cloaks, therenegades immediately set to work driving back the closing ranks of Chapterserfs.Rapid,staccatoblastssentsmallorbsofplasmafaracross thedeckwithunerringaccuracy.Burning straight throughbondsmen in their flakand fabric,the raging balls put attackers down on the deck, turning them briefly intomoundsofthrashingagony.Thisdidn’tlastlong.Arkan Reznor had long had a weakness for the heretical genius of xenostechnologies. Such passionwas evident in theRedacted’s plate andweaponry.

With the core warband only numbering six legionnaires, the squad favouredhard-hittingplasmagunsovertheubiquitousbolter–associatedwithsomanyoftheirdarkbrotherhood.Occamalsohad thewarpsmithadapt theweaponry formore effective operational use. Fusing forgeworld fare pillaged from thearmouriesof thedefeatedNovaLegion,withthemartial technologiesofxenosbreedscarvingoutempiresontheEasternFringe,Reznorhadmanagedtosolvetheplasmagun’spropensitytooverheatandincreasedboththeweapon’srangeandfueleconomy.‘BrotherMalik,’Occam said, allowing bolts to detonate against the retractedlandingclawshewasusingforcover.Hesmirkedtohimselfbehindthefangedfaceplateofhisserpenthelm.‘Bringthenight.’The joke was specially meant for Vilnius Malik, who was not an AlphaLegionnairebygenicheritage.Arestlessrenegade,giftedbeyondhisyearswithboltgunandblade,Malikhadbeenawilling recruit forNightLordsoperatingoutof the stormof theEmperor’sWrath.Gene-siredand trained in theartsofterror,Malik lived towinbuthadahealthydistrustofcorruption.AbandoninghisNightLordsbrothersastheyincreasinglybecamethingsoftwistedlogicandflesh,Malikwanderedthecoresectors.LendinghistalentstowarbandsofrenegadeSpaceMarines,liketheinfamousHounds of Horus and the Slaughtersworn, he inevitably survived them all.Occam the Untrue had encountered the promising killer when the Redactedworked in a joint action with the Shadow Pact against the Vindicators atKarpathiaCorona. Surviving them also,Malik acceptedOccam’s offer to jointhe Redacted and take his place amongst lost brothers searching for similarpurpose.AsSergeantHasdrubalran throughahailofboltsspat fromassaultshotguns,hegave theyoung legionnaire furious cover fire fromhisplasmagun.VilniusMalik,whocarriedthescopedlengthofalong-shotplasmagun,tookakneeandshruggedhiscloakoffhisshoulder.‘Powerdistributionnexus,’OccamheardArkanReznor tell the formerNightLord.‘Farbaywall.Itdistributespowertonon-essentialsystemsinthesection.Lookfortheheatsignature.’Malik didn’t even flinch. Thewarpsmith knewmore about the capital ship’ssystemsthantheMarinesMordantTechmarinestendingtothem.Lininguptheadvancedopticsofhishelmwiththescope,MaliksentasuccessionofplasmablastsupthroughthemiddleofachargingcrowdofChapterserfs.Thecracklingorbsblazedinto thepieceofnondescriptequipment thatReznorhad indicated,

cutting between the bondsmen with incredible accuracy and timing. Thedistributionnexusflashedandsparkedasitoverloaded.Withoutlocalpower,thehugeblastdoorseparatingthelaunchbayprowsectionandthethoraxgundeckscrashed to the floor. The bulkhead came down with a boom, cutting off thethousandsofservitorguncrewanddeckserfsstampedingdownthelengthofthecannonbatterysectionstoreinforcetheircultbrothersinthelaunchbay.The powerful lamps lining the ceiling of the bay flickered and then died,plunging the colossal chamber into a hazy murk of smoke and starlight.Promethiumfiresburnedinthebayandthebeamsofboardingcraftcutthroughthe obscurity. Occam theUntrue felt both the impact of landing gears on theflight deck and the hammering footfalls of loyal serfs charging through thedarkness. The blasts of the Redacted’s plasma guns lit up the bay around theDreadclawinghoulishblue.Theglowingorbsrevealedthefacesofbondsmen,fiercelyloyaltotheircultmastersintheMarinesMordantandintentonrepellingboarders.‘Saveyourfuel,’Occamorderedacrossthesquadvox.‘Dissemble.’Thedeckbecamedrowned indarkness.Onwards the serfscame, theirchargeslowing to a twirl of confusionas theyblinkedat theblackness, searching forrenegadeSpaceMarineswhohadbeentheremomentsbefore.Likethemembersofhiswarband,Occamhadbecomeonewiththedarkness.Abouthimhecouldhearthewhineofhissuit,droppingtolowpower–allnon-critical systems shutting down in readiness for snap-rebooting.His optics hadblinked toblackness,whilehiscloakhadhelped tobreakup theoutlineofhisarmour.Thescalesofthehereticallyenhancedplatehadchangedcolour.Likeachameleonic lizard, the suit replaced the dishonoured colours of the AlphaLegionandflushedtothedirtydarknessofitssurroundings.Occamenjoyedtheconfusion of his enemies.Hewas close enough to slice their throats but theycouldnotseehim.Inthemurk,anAlphaLegionnairesuddenlyappearedamongstthesmallarmyofChapterserfs.Shotgunswerepumpedandboltsunleashedas theserfsspunaround and fired at the phantasm. The hololithic representation crackled andwarped as a hail of bolts passed through it. In the darkness,Occamheard thescreamsofserfsblownapartbyboltsinthecrossfire.Astheghostlylegionnairefaded,therepresentationbeingprojectedbyBeta–theservo-automatahoveringabovethebattle–anotherappearedonthefarflank.FewerserfsfellforZeta’sdeceptionandevenfewerforTheta’s.Adaptedboltsstillshotwildlythroughthedarkness, however, with one almost blasting the fanged servo-automata to

rainingshrapnel.Thedistractionhadserveditspurpose.Boardingcraftthathadputdownonthedeck some distance away kicked on their floodlights and emergency landinglamps. In the smoky light, the Alpha Legionnaires of the Redacted weretransformed into silhouettes. They were not the only ones. Hordes of deathcultistswereamongthem,sprintingdeftlyfromtherampsoflightersandassaultboats.Intheirmasksandclutchingwickedbladesandneedlepistols,theSeventhSons joined the fray. Like a river coursing about a set of boulders, the deathcultistsranaroundtheirarmouredmastersandthrewthemselvesatthedeckserfsoftheAssiduous.‘Onwards,’Occamannouncedacrossthevox,hismodifiedsuitsystemsrapidlyfiring back up to full functionality. The black shapes of the warband walkedthroughthecarnage.Shotgunsbarkedboltsintothecharge,whileSeventhSonscut through the loyal serfswith envenomed blades and flash-blasts from theirneedle pistols. Aiming for exposed flesh and faces, they ducked and weavedthroughthehavoc.TheAlphaLegionacolytesleftserfscrashingtothedeckanddoublingupbehind them,clutchingwoundsandwrithing in theagonyof fast-actingvenom.‘Strikemaster,’EphronHasdrubalsaidastheylefttheviciousboardingaction.Thesergeantwasdrawingattentiontotheblastdoorclosingoffthelaunchbayfromthecavernousgundecks.Thesheerweightofnumbersbehindthesectionbulkhead – deck serfs, servitor cannon crew and hereditary auxiliaries – waslifting thedoorclearof thefloor tofloodthedarknesswith lightandrepellingforces.‘Autolicon,’Occamcalledacrossthevox-channel.‘Meltabombs.’Holdingtheweightofhisplasmacannoninonehand,thelegionnairesnatchedthechunkygrenadesfromhisbeltandthrewthemforwardthroughthedarknessto Occam, Hasdrubal and Malik. Catching the melta bombs, the renegadestwisted their plunger handles back and forth before skimming the grenadesacrosstheflightdecktowardstheoncomingrush.For a moment, the darkness evaporated and a series of thunderous flashesdominated the bay. The grenades detonated with a sub-atomic whoosh. Theflight deck beneath the charging serfs glowed red and then molten white.Unfortunatescaughtinthethermalblastturnedtobillowingcloudsoffineash.Others runningacross themeltingdecksank into liquidmetal, screaming theirlives away before the bubbling flight deck popped like a growing blister andliquid metal gushed down onto the deck below. Bondsmen running near the

craterputuptheirhandstoshieldthemselvesfromtheheatbuttheirfleshcaughtfire and they turned into thrashingmounds on the floor, smouldering in the -reassertingdarkness.Still,hordesofdeckserfsandservitorsranon,spillingfromthegun-deckblastdoorwith a ferocious desire to see the interlopers banished. Likewhite bloodcells attacking the source of an infection, the bondsmen came at the AlphaLegionnaires. Any ordinary Imperial wretch might have thought twice aboutsuchafoolhardyaction.Tospecimensofmiserablehumanity,SpaceMarines–eventhosethathadturnedfromtheEmperor’slightandembracedotherpaths–wereveritabledemigods tobe feared.TheChapter serfswere fanaticsof theirownfollowing–aculthonouringtheMarinesMordant,devotedtobothservingandprotectingtheinterestsoftheirAdeptusAstartesmasters.TheAlphaLegionwere an enemy to be repelled, and if possible destroyed. Loyal serfs thoughtnothingof throwing themselvesat sucha fearful foe.Theywoulddie for theirmasters–anddidso.‘They’reinsistent,aren’tthey?’SergeantHasdrubalsaid.‘Closequarters,brothers,’Occamsaid.‘Bethemistakethatour enemieshavemade.’WiththeexceptionofAutoliconPhex,wholitupthebenightedlaunchbaywithblazing orbs that cut through the ranks of serfs, the Redacted slapped theirplasma guns onto the backs of theirmag-lock belts.With a fluidmotion theysnatched up hand-to-hand combat power weapons that hummed to energy-sheathed lethality.With pumped bolt-rounds crashing through the air and thehorde of bondsmen hitting the squad like a force of nature, theAlphaLegionheldtheirground.Theyadvancedthroughthefuriousseaofbodies,even.BlastsfromPhex’splasmacannonclearedapaththroughtheattackers,whileOccam’slegionnairesstepped,twistedandcuttheirwaythroughtheloyalserfs.Protectingeachother fromlevelledshotgunbarrels,combatbladescarriedbythe serfs and chainswordshastilygrabbed to repel theAlphaLegionboarders,theRedactedworkedinslickbalance–likethecogsofsomeancientclockworkartefact.HasdrubalandVilniusMaliktookthelead,theformerNightLordgoingtosavageworkwithapairoflethalpowerblades.Whileheslashedandstabbed,thesergeantproducedhisownweaponartefact.Itwasawicked,xenosblade–moretorturer’sdevicethanweapon–recoveredfrom an alien battlefield in theGaronNebula uponwhichHasdrubal had leftmanydead.Theweapon’smanyblades sprung, flippedandclacked intoplacelike the butterfly knife or switchblade of a hive ganger. Seizing serfs by their

flanks and burying the multi-blade dagger into their bellies, Hasdrubal liftedthem off the ground with the force of his stabbing motion. Serfs shriekedhorribly as blades embedded with neural wires, energy sheaths and twistingchainblades visited unbearable agony upon each victim before Hasdrubalpressedthemercyswitchonthehandlethatdeliveredoblivion.Holding the flanks of the Redacted’s close combat formation were thewarpsmithReznorandCarcinusQuoda– formerLibrarianandsquadsorcerer.With precision movements, Reznor wielded a pair of short-haft Omnissianpower axes. The crackling cog blades sheared off limbs and crashed downthrough the barrels of combat shotguns. Occasionally, the warpsmith’smechatendrils would slither out and strike, grabbing serfs and tearing themtowardshimbeforewhippingbackbetweenpackandplate.AsReznorwheeledabout,hiscloakfollowinghimaround,hethrewtheaxestheshortdistanceintothechestsofchargingserfsbeforeturning,rippingthemoutandburyingtheminanotheroncomingunfortunate.Quoda,meanwhile,flushedtheazurecrystalthatformedthemany-facetedheadof his force sceptre with otherworldly power summoned from the empyrean.With each psychically enhanced blow, Quoda took off heads in a crystal-splatteredhazeofgoreandbrokeattackingserfs,puttingtheirshatteredbodiesdownonthedeckwithwarp-fuelledsavagery.While his legionnaires cut, bludgeoned and blasted a way through the ever-growing horde, Occam the Untrue unleashed his own nightmare. Snatching ahand-heldpowerscourgefromhisbelt,thestrikemasterthumbedtheweapontolife. He wheeled the scourge about his head before lashing out at attackingbondsmen,allowingthemulti-tailedwhipofjoinedbladestocrackleandwrithe.With a sizzle and a flash, the razored tails of the weapon slashed throughOccam’s victims. Combat shotguns were cut into sparking pieces. Heads andlimbswereshearedfromtorsos.Shuttingoffthepoweratthehandle,thestrikemasterbullwhippedthetailsofthescourgeaway,catchingserfsinabladednestof agony. He brought the weapon back to life and turned his opponents intothrashing puppets of crackling torment. Expertly uncoiling the scourgewith aripplingflourish,thestrikemasterallowedhissmoulderingvictimstofalldeadtotheground.Occamsensedmorebodiesabouthim.Thecultisthordeshadcaughtuptotheirmastersandweremeetingthearmyofserfsfloodinginfromthegundecksheadon.‘Time,’Occam ordered, taking note of his helm’s chronometer. ‘Leave these

unworthywretchestotheSeventhSons.’Accelerating into a powered run, the legionnaires brutally barged serfs asidebefore slipping down onto their cloaks and the polished flight deck. Slidingacrossthefloor,onebyone,thewarbanddisappearedintothedarknessofcratersleftbehindbythemeltabombs.Exchangingweaponrymid-drop, theRedacted landedwithapower-armouredthunkonthemaintenancedeckbelow.Theblueglowoftheirplasmagunslitupthepipe-linedpassageway.Itborethefilthofage.TheAssiduouswasanancientrelic of a vessel. The walls were stained and the piping was encrusted withexotic corrosions. Beneath the grille panelling running the busy length of themaintenance corridor, Occam heard the trickle of liquid detritus. Oils andblessedunguents.Coolantandchemicalspillage.ThebloodofMarinesMordantdefenders and the ichor of enemy organisms intent on invasion. Across thecenturies, filth had trickled down through the battle-barge, drawn on by theinsistenceofartificialgravitytopoolinthebowelsofthevesselandrunalongthesub-chambersandcorridorsrunningthelengthofthekeel.On the floor were several serfs who had fallen into the pit following theexplosion.Bonesprotrudedfromkneeswheretheuglyfallhadbrokentheirlegs.Gritting their teeth, they still tried to get to their feet. Their continued effortsbothimpressedandannoyedthestrikemaster.‘Malik,’Occamsaid.‘Takecareofthat.’Holding his long-shot plasma gun under the breachwith one gauntlet,Malikdrewascopedboltpistolwithanextendedbarrelfromhisholsterandaimeditdownatthebondsmen.ThuddingsilencedStalkershellsintotheshavenheadsoftheserfs,Malikputanendtotheiragony.‘AsIsaid,thiswillworkforus,’ArkanReznorsaid.Hetookseveralstepsupthepassage,thebluehazeofhisplasmagunrevealingamono-taskservitor.Thedronewas all pallid flesh and augmentation. It used a long-handled scraper toshear encrusted alien parasites from the curved walls and piping that werequietlybreeding in thefouldarknessof theship’sbowels. ‘Thesemaintenancepassageways intersect and run the length of the barge.We can avoid the gundecksandmakeittowithintwelvedecksofthecommanddeck.’Occam theUntrue nodded,walking up towards themiserable servitor.At aninstructionfromReznor,histongueclickingandraspingsomethingapproachingbinaryathisservo-automata,Beta,ZetaandThetaadvancedupthepassageontheir repulsors. Their augurs hummed to a rhythmic scanwhile they activatedsocketlampsthatlitthewayahead.

‘It is imperative that we take the bridge,’ Occam said, ‘or Lord Carthach’sefforts will be all for naught. He might take the fortress-monastery but thisvessel –battle damaged andoperatingwith a skeleton crew– could still levelSalinaCityandtheBas-Silicawithonesalvofromitsbombardmentcannon.’‘Why not take out the cannon instead?’Malik asked. ‘The dorsal section iscloser.’‘Because that would be too easy,’ Ephron Hasdrubal answered, his tonesharpenedwiththehintofaremonstration.‘Thesergeantis,asever,correct,’Occamsaid.‘WearetheEmperor’stest.LetoureffortspurgetheImperiumoftheweak,leavingHisdominionstrongerthanwefoundit.’‘Asyouwish,strikemaster,’Malikreplied.‘If there is an actual AdeptusAstartes presence on this vessel,’ Occam said,‘and Codex Astartes protocol suggests that there should be – then it will befound on the command deck. No member of the Marines Mordant is to beallowedtolive.QuetzelCarthachdemandsit,andheistheAngelbane–alivingendtothesuccessorsonsofGuilliman.IftheEmperorwillsit,thenitwillbeso.Dissemble.’Oncemore, theRedacted’s adaptedplate answered.A flushof colour rippledthroughtheceramitescales.ThedarknessthattheAlphaLegionhadpreviouslybeenwasnowbleached toUltramarineblueandsilver,withonepauldronandhalf-suit devoted to each colour: thehonouredChapter coloursof theMarinesMordant.Occampulledhiscloakaroundtohidethelegionarymarkingsonhispauldron.‘Quoda,’Occamsaid.‘Thedetails.’Thesquadsorcererbangedthebaseofhisforcesceptreagainst thefloor.Theazure crystal that made up the head of the weapon rang with mind-achingintensity, theserpentinepsi-convector running through itamplifiedbyQuoda’stelepathic powers. The former Librarian stared into the crystal, his faceplatereproduced in the crystal’s many facets. While cloaks and chameleonic platecould hide the Alpha Legion’s identity and give the impression that therenegades of the Redacted belonged to a different Chapter or warband, thedevilrywas in thedetail.CarcinusQuodausedhispowers toensure that thoseencountering the Redacted saw what they expected to see. Details andexpectations drawn from their own minds and therefore beyond reasonablesuspicion: appropriate weaponry, insignia and honours, the acid-splash scarsfromtheAssiduous’battlewiththetyranids.

Occam theUntrue stood before the servitor,which had stopped scraping theencrustedwallsof thepassage.Thedrone staredupathim, itsblank faceandoil-blackeyes fixedupon thestrikemaster’splate.Occamwaitedaswhatwasleftofitsbrainanditssimplecogitatorprocessedwhatitwasseeing.Gently,theservitor’s head bowed, as protocol dictated – as it might before one of itsMarinesMordantmasters.‘Let’sgo,’thestrikemastersaid.

γTURNINGTAIL

CaptainSolVentormovedbetween runebanks and attendant deck serfs on thebridge,hisscar-crackedfeaturesfurrowed.Helookedacrossthecommanddeckofthevenerablebattle-bargeAssiduous.Itwasawashwithactivity.Asmallarmyofrobedbondsmenwasbreakingprotocolandcallingoutfromtheirstations,whileserfarmsmenstoodeithersideofthebridgeelevatordoorswiththeircombatshotguns.Console-interfacedservitorsblurtedinbinarywhileMaster Zamander and Techmarine Arkadii collated the datastreams. BrotherArkadiihadresponsibilityfortheAssiduous,whileZamanderwastheChapter’sMaster of the Forge and had taken personal responsibility for overseeing thehonouredbattle-barge’s punishingscheduleof repairs.Zamanderwas followedaroundbyasmallhuddleof lexomatservitorunits,bringingthecomputationalpoweroftheircogitatorstothedatafloodingintobridgerunebanks.Shipmaster Darrius had reported to the bridge and stood by his commandthrone, his hood down and shaven head glisteningwith reflected red lighting.Captain Ventor had just sounded a Vermillion Alert. The shipmaster’s agedfeatureswerecontortedwithincredulityasdeckserfafterdeckserfbroughthimdata-slates of unfolding information. Earpsichor, the battle-barge’s astropath,hoverednearby.Allaboutthem,Ventor’shonourguardstoodtoattentionintheirblueandsilverartificerarmourandornatehelms.TheirMarinesMordantplatewasdecoratedwith honours and loincloths of leather and chain. One even held a companybanner,repletewithnewrecognitionsoftheChapter’sencounterwithHiveFleetLeviathan.Eachsilentveteranheldhisprimedboltgunaimedatthedeck,readytodefend theSpaceMarinemaster.Ascaptainof theMarinesMordantFourthCompanyandmasteroftheChapterfleet,Ventorwarrantedsuchanescort.The leaderof thehonourguardwasBrotherOrthrius–a taciturnwarriorand

company champion of the Fourth. He stood by his captain with arms foldedaboveapairofshortpowerswordsthatcriss-crossedatthehilt.‘What in Guilliman’s name is going on?’ Ventor demanded, running hisceramitefingersthroughhisVitrean-whitehairbeforereachingforthepulpitrailwithhis leftgauntlet.Thecaptainhadnorightarm.Hehadlost it toa tyranidmonster that had stormed the corridors of the Assiduous during the horrificboardingactionthathadsentthebattle-bargebacktoVitreaMundiforrepairs.Ventor had been so busy with his reports to ChapterMaster Pallidax and hisresponsibilitiesasmasterofthefleetthattherehadsimplybeennotimeforthesurgerytofitabionicreplacement.‘Prowsection–status?’‘The boarding action is yet to be put down,’ Orthrius admitted, ‘but thenumberslooksmall.’‘Pirates?’Ventorasked.‘TheTyrant’sreavers?’‘I’veneverknowntheRedCorsairstotakesuchwildrisks.LufgtHuronknowsbetter.Hehitswithforce.Whoeverheardofabattle-bargebeingstormedthus?’‘TheAssiduousisnotherself,’Ventoradmitted,‘andwearefieldingaskeletoncrew.Tellmethisisnothing.’‘It is,’Orthriussaid, ‘and itwillbeoversoon.Sooner ifyou letmegodownthere.’‘No,’thecaptainsaid.Orthriusgaveanimperceptibleshakeofhischampion’shelmbeforecontinuinghisassessment.‘The fighting is restricted to the launch bay. The gun decks remain secure. Ihavereinforcedthesectionwitharmsmenandcrewsfromthebatteries.’‘HowbyHolyTerradidtheygetpastouraugurfields?’Ventordemanded.Themasterwasgiventocursingandtaking,amongotherthings,theEmperor’snameinvain.‘ThatIdonotknow,’Orthriusgrizzled,pointingbetweenrunebanksandovertheshouldersofbridgebondsmen.‘It’sisolatedandcontained.’‘No, it’s not,’ the battle-scarredVentor said, surveying data-slates brought tohim.Hecalledacrossthecommanddeck:‘Report.’‘VitreanPlanetaryDefenceAuxiliareportthemassmovementof peopleonthestreetsofSalinaCity,mylord,’adeckserf toldhim,standingupathisstationandloweringhishead.‘Orbitals?’‘CapturesandaugurscansshowahugecloudofgasorvapourrisingfromtheGreatSodaLakes,’another robedofficer toldhim. ‘Thepopulationare fleeingthecityandarrivingatthegatesoftheBas-Silicaforshelter.’

‘Howcanthisbe?’Ventordemanded.‘Howcanwebeonlylearningthisnow?’‘I fear, upuntil now, communications from the surfacehavebeenblockedordisrupted,’thedeckserfoffered.‘Anattackhasbeenunfoldingbelowus…’Ventorsaidgrimly.‘Andwedidn’tevenknowit,’Orthriussaid.Ventorturnedtoaserfatamastervoxstation:‘Well,weknowitnow.GetmetheChapterMaster–gethimnow.’TheserfstruggledtoraisetheBas-Silica,citingacontinueddisturbanceatthesource. In the significant amount of time it took him to establish a static-shotchannelbetweentheAssiduousandthefortress-monastery,morebadnewshadreached the bridge. The astropath Earpsichor and Shipmaster Darrius hadconfirmedthatallotherMarinesMordantvessels,systemstationsandstarfortshad failed to meet long-range vox and astropathic communication protocols.Outer system defence platforms, patrolling rapid-strike vessels, sub-sectorfrigates and remainingMarinesMordant-manned star forts, watching over theoutskirtregionsoftheMaelstrom,hadallgonesilent.‘Captain,’ an officer bondsman piped up, ‘orbital captures show evidence ofexplosionsand fire fightsconductedwithin thecityand the fortress-monasteryitself.’‘Voxstation!’Ventorroaredattheattendingserf.TechmarineArkadii,however,hadbeenworkingattherunebankforsometime.‘Channels are being jammed from the surface,’ he told the captain. ‘I havepenetrated the interference and isolated limited vox and hololithics. ChapterMasterPallidaxforyou.’‘ChapterMaster?’Ventor called as nerve-shredding static boomed across thecommanddeck.AhololithicrepresentationofTarroPallidaxwarpedandsizzledinandoutoffocusbeforethecaptain.PallidaxstoodbeforeathroneofcloudedquartzinablueandsilversuitofTacticalDreadnoughtarmour–arelicfromtheChapter’sinception.SerfsandMarinesMordantbattle-brotherskeptmovingintohololithicrepresentation,bringingtheirChapterMasternewintelligence.Pallidaxcutagrimfigure.Hiswhitehairwascroppedshortandmissingaboutthelong-healedcraterinhisskullwheretheOverfiendofOctariushadburiedahammer.Where his eye wasmissing also, the cold blue of a bionic twinkledlazily.Alongtimehadpassedsincehiscrusadingdaysagainstencroachingorkempires. The ChapterMaster’s face bore the deep lines of responsibility andmorerecenttragedies.Pallidax had lost two companies of honoured warriors on what had already

been a penance crusade through the Tempest Hippocrene. Another had beendecimated defending recruitment worlds from the predatory expansions ofanothergreenskinOverfiend.StarfortsstationedonthebordersoftheMaelstromandfleetpatrolshadbeenmercilesslyhitbypirates,renegadesandRedCorsairsoperatingoutofthewarpstorm, as the Tyrant of Badab turned his attentions rimward. As theMarinesMordant lost company after company, requests for assistance from brothersuccessors had gone unheeded. The Nova Legion, Vindicators and CrimsonConsulswere all sons ofGuillimanwho shared someof the responsibility forguarding the rimward frontiers of theMaelstrom – as the doomedMaelstromWardenshaddonewith thecorewardsectorsbefore theBadabWar.TheNovaLegiondidn’treplyatall.TheVindicatorswerefoundtobeinthethroesoftheirown calamity. In answer to a surprise astropathic distress signal from theCrimson Consuls, Pallidax sent a demi-company and some of his finestremainingcaptainstohelpthemfightofftheAlphaLegionatCarcharias.Theyneverreturned.All the while, the Marines Mordant had lost two further companies on theKontradorn Drift from fighting a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Leviathan – agruelling engagement that had nearly cost the Chapter their only remainingbattle-barge,thevenerableAssiduous.‘Bas-Silica,thisisAssiduous,pleaserespond,’Ventorcalled.At first there were nowords: only static. Pallidax’smouth went to work onreportsandordersthatthecommanddeckcouldnothear,beforehisbattle-wearyfeaturesformedafuriousscowlinrecognitionofthecommunicationdifficulties.WhensounddidcutthroughthestaticitrevealedtoSolVentorgunfireandthethunderofnearbyexplosions.‘Captain,’ Brother Orthrius said, moving between the glow of runebanks.Techmarine Arkadii’s efforts were paying off. ‘We’re getting reports ofarmoured renegades on the planet surface. Traitor Guard and terror attacksthroughout Salina City. The cloud rising from the soda lakes is probably anengineered chemical reaction. It is drifting through the city. Sources on thegroundareclaimingthousandsdead.’Ventorandhischampionlockedgrimgazes.‘Continue,’thecaptainsaid.‘People are fleeing the city,’ Orthrius said. ‘The ChapterMaster opened theBas-Silica’sgatestoadmitthem…’‘Whichiswhattherenegadeswerewaitingfor,’SolVentorsaid.

‘Yes,master.’‘Theattackersarewithintheperimeterdefences?’‘And are laying siege towhat is left of the veteranFirstCompany,’Orthriustoldhim.‘Eyewitnessaccountstellofamyriadofxenosmercenariessupportingthe assault. Our brothers are struggling to bothmount a defence against suchdifferentenemiesanddefendtherefugeesfromthecity.’‘Andwhois responsiblefor this?’ thecaptaindemanded.‘Ordo thesecravenrenegadeshidetheirmarkingsastheydotheirintentions?TheTyrant’sCorsairs?LordBythossandhisApocalypseWatch?WordBearers outofGhalmek?’‘Foronce,theydonothidetheirmarkings,’ChapterMasterPallidaxsaid,hiswordsandhololithicrepresentationscracklingtoclarity.‘ItistheAlphaLegion.’Boltfireanddetonationscontinuedtocarryacrossthetransmission.Thenameofthe dreadLegion echoed nastily about the command deck. For amoment, thetransmissionwaslost.‘ChapterMaster?’‘Captain,canyouhearme?’‘Yes,ChapterMaster,’Ventorsaid.‘We’rereceivingyou.’‘Good,’Pallidaxsaid, ‘becauseIwantnoconfusionaboutmynextorder.Theenemyare in.Alienmercenaries.RenegadeGuardsmen.Warp-taintedaltereds.Traitors clad in bilious blue andgreen.The scumof the galaxy, all under thefoetidbannerof thehydra.TheAlphaLegionhaveus.Theyareledbytheonethey call the Angelbane. The self-same monster no doubt responsible for thesilenceofourbrothersuccessors.Hetalkstousnow,throughourownfortressvoxcasters.Heoffersusalivinghell–aplaceinhisranks,inexchangeforoursurrender.ThegameisoverandthesonsofGuillimanareplayedout.Thereisonepieceontheboardhehasmissed,however.Asacrificewaitingtobemade.YouknowofwhatIspeak.’‘Chapter Master,’ Ventor said, his voice cracked with fury and pain. ‘TheAssiduoushasbeen–’‘TheAssiduous,aye,’Pallidaxsaid,notseemingtohearthecaptain.‘Whatwehave taken formisfortuneand tragedyhasaname.TheAngelbane.This fiendandhisAlphaLegionfilthcannotbeallowedtoescapetheBas-Silica.YouknowwhatIamaskingyoutodo,oldfriend?’‘Ido,’Ventoransweredgravely.‘This is the last you shall hear from Pallidax of VitreaMundi,’ the ChapterMaster said. ‘The final lament of the Marines Mordant. Let our name echothroughtheagesaswarriorsoftheEmperor’sSpaceMarines,terribleandtrue.

LoyalsonsofGuillimanandavengersofourbrothers’blood.Letourdirgebethe thunder of the Assiduous’ bombardment cannon and our tomb thesehallowed halls. I am giving the order to lower the Bas-Silica’s void shields…now.Captain,doyourduty.’With that, the hololithic representation warped and died. A terrible silencedescended upon the command deck. One by one, Chapter serfs, crew andMarinesMordantlookedtotheircaptain.‘Mylord,’BrotherOrthriussaid.‘Wecannotdothis.’‘Andyetwemust,’Ventorsaid,hisfaceapaleblank.‘What? Become the final weapon wielded by the Alpha Legion against ourbrothers?’‘We have no choice,’ the captain told him, his voice low and heavy withresponsibility.‘We can choose not to fire upon our own brothers,’ Orthrius called, hisdesperationechoingaboutthecavernousbridge.‘YouheardyourChapterMaster,’Ventorsaid.‘WewerefightingsidebysideagainsttheenemiesoftheImperiumbeforeyouwereevenborn.TarroPallidaxisnotgiventohyperbole.WhenheannouncesthatthisistheendofhisChapter,hedamnwellmeansit. IhaveanorderfrommyChapterMaster–asprotocoldictates,Iintendtofollowit.’Ventor looked around the command deck.At the ornate helms of his honourguard hanging in shame. At Brother Arkadii andMaster Zamander’s sombreacceptance.Atserfsstaringindisbeliefatthehorrorunfoldingontheirconsoles.AtEarpsichorandtheshipmasterwaitinggrimlyby.‘Orthrius,’thecaptainsaidfinally.‘Ifwedonotdothis,thisAngelbane–oncehe has taken the fortress-monastery – will turn its defence lasers upon theAssiduous. You know in her present condition she cannot withstand such anattack. Call it the dying wish of an honoured Chapter Master or self-preservation,thismustbedone.Status?’‘The fortress-monastery’s void shields are collapsing,’ Master Zamanderconfirmedfromarunebank.‘Then please be so good as to inform the section ordinators and dorsal guncrewsofour target and intention,’ thecaptain toldZamander. ‘Iwantmagma-bombwarheadsprimedandthebombardmentcannontraineduponthefortress-monastery.Fullspread,ifyouplease.NoconsiderationistobegiventoChapterforces at the impact site or collateral citizenry in the adjacent city.Make suretheyunderstand.Repeattheordertwice.Iwantthetargetandtheenemywithin

completelyobliterated.’‘Asyoucommand,’MasterZamandersaid,turningbacktowardstherunebank.Itallhappenedso fast thatSolVentor,alreadynumbat thenewsfromVitreaMundi, couldn’tmakehimself act.The commanddeck, the runebankunit andMaster Zamander suddenly disappeared. The polishedmetal floor glowed redandthenwhite,bubblingabouttheTechmarine’sbootsashebackedaway.TheconsolestationmeltedbeforehimandascreamingZamander–alreadyaflameandsinkingasifintoamireofmoltenmetal–droppeddownthroughthedeck.Therunebankandmeltingfloorfollowedhim,leavingbehindadarkcraterthatrevealedthedeckbelow.Ventor felt the whoosh of heat on his face as another sub-atomic detonationturnedthedecknearbyintoafierypit.HefeltBrotherOrthriuspushhimbackbeforethechampionranforwardtohelpmembersofthehonourguard.MarinesMordantwere aflame and roastingwithin their plate. The company’s standardturnedtoash,whileitsbearerfelldownthroughthewhite-hotinfernowithtwoofhisveteranbrothers.Orthriusmanagedtopullthefinalsurvivingmemberofthehonourguardoutofthesuperheatedblast.TheAlphaLegionwerenotjustontheplanetsurface.Theywerenotcontained,asOrthriushadsuggested,inthelaunchbay.Theywerehere–intentontakingthebattle-barge’scommanddeck.SolVentorshookthestunnedrealisationfromhisaddledmindandfoundhiswaytoaction.‘Suppression fire!’ he roared across the bridge at the surviving MarinesMordant.Withawaveofhisgauntlethedirecteddeckserfsfromtheirrunebanksand consoles. ‘We are under attack. Follow your protocols. Lock down thebridge.’Astheremainingmemberofthehonourguardblastedhisboltgunbackintothedarkness of the pit, Techmarine Arkadii did likewise with his pistol into thecrater thathad swallowed theMasterof theForge.Bridge serfs,up from theirstations,snatchedlaspistolsfromtheirrobedbeltsandjoinedthem.Orthriustorehis power blades from their scabbards and brought them to sizzling life,assuming position in front of his captain. Shrugging back his silvered cloak,Ventorwenttodrawhisownboltpistolbutfoundittobemissing.Turning furiously, he found Shipmaster Darrius standing behind him. Theseniorserfheldtheweightoftheornateweaponinbothhands,leaningintothepistol.Asthemaster’sscarredfacecreasedwithimperiousincredulity, theboltpistolfired.BrotherOrthriuswasthrownforwardbytheforceoftheboltround’simpact,hishelmblownopenattheback.Brainsandskullblastedforththrough

his ornate faceplate,while the champion’s short power blades clattered to thedeck.The shipmaster thrust the bolt pistol at Ventor, forcing theMarinesMordantcaptainback.BehindDarrius,hecouldseethedeadbodiesoftheserfelevatorsentriesandtheastropathEarpsichor,theirslitthroatsleakinglifebloodalloverthedeck.Ventortensedinhisplate,thehydraulicsandservosstraining.Withasinglepower-armouredstrikehecouldbreaktheserfshipmaster’sspine.Darriusstared at the master of the fleet with dark eyes, holding the bolt pistol onVentor’sfuriousfigure.‘I believe you’re fast, captain,’ Darrius told him, ‘with your geneticallyenhancedreflexes,yourtrainingandplate.Butdoyoureallythinkyou’refasterthanaboltround?’Snarling,VentorturnedtotheMarinesMordantandserfsfiringdownintotheholesinthecommanddeck.Asboltweaponsrandry,theSpaceMarineshelduptheirgauntlets, indicating that the lightshowthedeckserfswerevisitinguponthedarknessbelowshouldalsocometoanend.Afterseveralseconds,agrenadevaultedupoutof thedarkness.Spinningintheair, themeltabombreachedupintothebridge.‘Fire in the–’ Arkadii managed before the melta bomb detonated. As it did,another grenadewas tossed up out of the second hole. Exploding at shoulderheight,eachgrenadeblossomed intoablinding, sub-atomicblast thatcouldbefeltbyVentorontheothersideofthebridge.Thecaptainwatchedwithhorrorasthemelta bombblastswiped the deck serfs and the last of his SpaceMarinesfromexistence.Bridgebondsmendisappeared ina streamofashand screams,while the Marines Mordant became ghastly sculptures of melted plate andscorched flesh. As the intense flare of the detonation faded, the two SpaceMarinesmanagedafewmoresecondsofdreadful,twistedlifebeforedying.‘Darrius,’astunnedSolVentorsaid.Hehadusedhisgauntlettoshelterhisfacefromtheheat.Henowraiseditabovehishead.Fromthedeckbelow,thecaptaincouldhearequipmentbeingmoved.Withoutmoving the barrel of the bolt pistol, the shipmaster gestured towards thesmouldering openings melted into the floor. Looking down, Ventor saw theimpossible.MarinesMordantSpaceMarines in fadedblueandsilver, steppingup mounds of piled equipment to climb through the holes in the deck: threeproceeding from each. Ventor knew the Space Marines. He recognised theirmarkingsandeven thescarson theirplate,causedbyacid-splashes, fangsandclaws. These were Marines Mordant that he had fought beside against the

chitteringhordesofthealientyranid.‘Brothers, no,’ the captain said, his voice brittle.He looked betweenDarriusandthearrivingSpaceMarines.‘Whathaveyoudone?Doyouknowwhatyouhavedone?Youhave sidedwith traitors and in doing so have becomeone ofthem.Youhavesoldoutyourprimarchtothehighestbidderandbetrayedyourblood.Think,brothers,ofwhatyoudo.Thinkonwhatyouwouldsay toyourEmperor,ifyouwerebeforehimnow–yoursoulsaseasyforhimtoreadasanopentome.’The lead Space Marine cleared the seals of his helm and took it off as hiscompatriotsclosedintheplasmagunstrainedonthecaptain.‘Dissemble,’theleaderordered.AsheapproachedSolVentor,hisplatebegantoblotanddarken.Likeadeathworld reptile changing colour, his power armour lost its silver and bluepatterning,itsscarsandmarkings.Revealingthescaledceramiteandbesmirchedviridianbeneath, the sizzling transformationmade thecaptain’seyesblinkandhismindache.Foramoment,thepatricianfeaturesmarkingasuccessorsonofGuillimanandwhitehairofaVitreanwerevisible.Withthefadingachecamearevelation.ThesewerenottheMarinesMordanthehadfoughtwith.Hehadonlyimaginedthemasso.TheywerewarriorsoftheAlphaLegion.ThefacebeneaththehelmbelongedtonobrotherofSolVentor.Hisskinhadacopper hue, while hologrammatic tattoos of serpents danced with angle andmovement above the interloper’s ears and around the back of his bald head.Unsmilingbut satisfied, the leaderhadeyes thatburnedbothwith intelligenceand a piercing darkness,making his gaze hard to hold. Despite this, Ventor’sowneyespickedoutinthestranger’sappearancethesubtlesignsofsurgeryandface-transplantation.‘IdothinkofwhatImightsaytotheEmperor,’theAlphaLegioncommandertoldVentor.‘Infact,IspeaktoHimeveryday.Ihopethatmyheartsandsoulareas easy to read as yours, captain. For I tell Him that, unlike the MarinesMordant,IfightforHimstill.’Withtheslicknessofastrikingsnake,theAlphaLegioncommanderdrewhisscoped bolt pistol and aimed its elongated barrel at the captain’s chest. Therewas not the crash Sol Ventor expected. Bolt rounds thudded through hisbreastplate with an almost silky hiss. He felt them, hot and terrible, tearingthrough his chest. His multi-lung and hearts. Staggering back, the MarinesMordant captain fell. Agony lanced through his chest. He coughed up blood,thickandwarm.Heheardhisruinedheartsbeatnomore.Staringup,hecould

see theAlphaLegion commander standing over him. Therewas nomalice inthoseeyes,onlyunderstandingandcoldnecessitude.SolVentorfelt thedarknessclosing in. Itwasadarkness thatheknewwouldclaimnotonlyhimbuthisgenicbrothersalso– for theMarinesMordanthadfoughttheirlastbattleandtheyhadlost.

δTHEVIPER’SNEST

‘Mina,’OccamtheUntruesaidtotheoperative.‘Thedoors.’TheAssassin,stilldisguisedastheageingshipmaster,steppedoverthebodyofthedeadMarinesMordantcaptain.Asshemovedacrossthebridgeshehookedthe toe of a boot beneath an abandoned combat shotgun on the deck. Shescooped up theweapon and stepped through the smouldering bodies of serfs.Workingthepumpaction,shetookherplacebytheelevatordoors.Occam’s legionnaires didn’t need instructions. The difficult section of theoperationwasover.Now they slickly fell to completing themission.AsBeta,ZetaandThetarosefromtheholesinthefloortoattendontheirmaster,Reznorgottoworkonanauxiliaryconsole.Hedouble-checkedthatnoorderhadbeensenttothedorsalgundeckstofirethebarge’sbombardmentcannonandbeganre-establishing orbital vox communications.WhileMalik and Autolicon Phexaimedtheirplasmaweaponrydownintothepits,ensuringthebridgecouldnotberetakenthewaytheRedactedhadentered,SergeantHasdrubalopenedavox-channelwiththeHighSerpenttoupdatehimontheirsituation.‘Well?’Occamasked.‘IhaveorderedtheSeventhSonstodisengageandretreatbacktotheboardingcraft,’Hasdrubaltoldhim.Occam nodded. The death cultists had only ever been a distraction. He hadneverintendedthemtoblood-and-gutstheirwaythrougheventheskeletoncrewofanAdeptusAstartesbattle-barge.‘SendmyregardstotheHighSerpent,’Occamsaid.‘Tellhimthathisflotillaiscleared towithdraw.He is to leave the Serpent’sEgg and one lighter for ourconvenience.’‘Whatofthebondedcrew?’thesergeantasked.‘Wherearethey?’

‘Largenumbersareconcentratedonthegundecks,drawntherefromtherestoftheshipbyorderstorepelboarders.’OccamtheUntruenoddedtoHasdrubalandhimself.‘Jam vox communications between sections,’Occam ordered. ‘Then seal thebatteriesofffromthelaunchbayandtherestofthebattle-barge.Iwantyoutoopentheairlocksonthethoraxgundecksanddropthebatteryintegrityfields.Letthecrewfeeltheembraceofthevoid.’‘Aye,’ Hasdrubal said. It was a cold order to carry out but Occam and hissergeantbothknewthattheMarinesMordantwouldhavedonethesametotheattackingAlphaLegioninaheartbeat.‘AnythingfromLordCarthach?’Occamasked.‘NothingontheBas-Silicaopenchannels,’ArkanReznorconfirmed.Withhismechadendrites extended and moving across the shattered runebanks, he wasalreadyreinstatingoperationstoseveraloftheleastdamagedconsoles.‘Perhapsthey are having trouble taking the Librarius or the last of the First Companyveterans.’‘Unlikely,’Occamsaid,checkinghischronometer.TheAngelbane’smercilessactions usually ran like clockwork. Such synchronicity was the reason it hadbeen so important that theRedacted take the commanddeckof theAssiduouswhentheydid.IfCarthachhadexperiencedproblemswiththeMarinesMordantpsykers or if Chapter Master Pallidax had managed to hold off the AlphaLegion’soverwhelmingattack,thenOccamwouldhaveexpectedwordfromtheAngelbane.‘Perhaps the Angelbane has succumbed,’ Carcinus Quoda said, looking outthroughthegreatlancetscreensofthebridge.Occamjoinedthesorcererthere.‘Weshouldbesolucky,’hesaidtothepsyker.‘DoyouknowsomethingthatIdon’t?’‘Thesheer tonnageofwhatIknowthatyoudonotcouldstopaformationofLandRaidersintheirtracks.’‘Fair,’Occamadmittedtothesorcerer.‘Nowanswermydamnquestion.’‘No,’Quodasaid.‘Fornow,theAngelbanelives.’‘Encoded channel,’ Occam ordered, turning to Arkan Reznor. ‘Inform LordCarthachthatwehavecompletedourmission.TheAssiduousresidesunderthecontroloftheAlphaLegion.Groundforcesareshieldedfromattack.Weawaithisorders.’Occam shrugged his pauldrons. Itwas a redundant communication.CarthachmustalreadyhaveknownthattheRedacted’soperationhadbeensuccessful.The

battle-barge’sbombardmentcannonhadn’tfired.Still,thestrikemasterexpectedthe report might garner a response from madmen and deviants amongst theAlphaLegionranks–QuetzelCarthachincluded–distractedbytheopportunitytoterroriseandtorturethelastremainingmembersofadecimatedChapter.ThesonsofGuillimanhadatalentforattractingtheAngelbane’sattention.Occam looked toAutolicon Phex,whowas aiming his plasma cannon downintothedepthsofthepitmeltedintothedeck.PhexhadbeenamemberoftheNova Legion – brother successors to the Crimson Consuls, Vindicators andMarines Mordant. A newly promoted Scout, he had possessed a talent fordestructionandhadassumedapositioninoneoftheChapter’smanyDevastatorsquads.AfterLordCarthach’sSonsoftheHydrahadendedtheNovaLegionatScintil-Novax,PhexhadbeendiscoveredinoneoftheReclusiampenitoria-cells,wherehehadbeenpunishedfor transgressions inhisoperational interpretationoftheCodexAstartes.InitiallyslatedforexileandtocarryoutadeathoathbytheChapter’sMasterofSanctity,heinsteadbecamethelastsurvivingbattle-brotheroftheNovaLegionand a plaything for Quetzel Carthach’s amusement. Experiencing misery,persecution and torment at the hands of the Angelbane, including having histonguecutoff,PhexwasperverselygiventoOccamtoreplacealegionnairethattheRedacted had lost during the hard battle to take the fortress-monastery onScintil-Novax.As part of an insult Occam felt he had to endure, Carthach claimed that hewouldnottolerateasonofGuillimaninhisownranks.SincetheRedactedwerealready made up of what he termed second-rate renegade pretenders – ratherthan truefoil Alpha Legionnaires like Carthach himself – it was decided thatOccamwastocarrytheburden.As the artificial atmosphere was vented through the gun decks, takingthousands of serf crew members with it, Occam paced the command deck,waitingforCarthach’s response.TheAngelbanewasnotwrong.TheRedactedweremadeupofrenegadeswhohadjoinedtheranksoftheAlphaLegionratherthanthosewhoborethegenicheritageoftheLastPrimarch.Whattheylackedinblood, theyshared in theperversityof theLegion’soperationalaspirationsandmyriaddarkobjectives.Occamwouldn’t have it any otherway.While theRedacted foughtwith thezeal of converts – attempting to honour and harness some of the professionalpotencyoftheLegion’spast–Carthach’sSonsoftheHydrawere,byandlarge,legionary butchers. Pirates. Madmen.Warp-tainted altereds. Quetzel Carthach

wasindeedtheMasterofHarrows.ByjoiningdisparateAlphaLegionwarbandsunderhisbannerandthrowingthemintocoordinatedactions,hehadsucceededinwiping out the successor sons ofGuilliman on the rimward borders of theMaelstrom,andearnedthetitleAngelbane.While theAngelbanewas the puppet of his pathological hatred, OccamwasdrivenbyaharshanduncompromisingloveofhisEmperor.Thepriestsof theEcclesiarchy might have thought themselves austere and the agents of theInquisition unflinching in their prosecution of His will, but none had theadamantium faith required to embrace the traitor and carry out the Emperor’sworkfromwithintheenemylines.Tobethetruecheckandbalance.Tofantheflamesofheresyandtempertheresolveofabrittleempire.Such pursuits brought Occam into company with renegades like QuetzelCarthach.Carthachwasbothmadmanandgenius.Hewastoodangerousforhisbittercausetobeeitherignoredorfullyembraced.LikemanyinthefragmentedLegion,Carthachhadlonglosthisway.Anancientlietwistedtotheharshestoftruths, thearch-lordhad reputedlybeenpresentuponcursedEskrador, thedaythe twinprimarchfell.WhileOccamdoubted thiswas true,Carthach livedforthe suffering ofGuilliman’s sons and devoted his considerable talents to theirextermination,ChapterbysuccessorChapter.TheAngelbanefavouredtheoldways,reproducinginhisownrancidfashionaghostlyshadowoftheAlphaLegion’sinfamousHarrowings.Theculminationofmany months of planning and preparation, Carthach and his gathered AlphaLegion warbands launched mass lightning attacks of synchronised force andunstoppable variety. Planetary assaults were complemented by piraticaldeceptions. Cultist mobs rose up amongst the populations of loyal Imperialworlds, while Assassins stalked planetary leaders. Psycho-indoctrination andorbital bombardments spelled doom in their different ways, while xenosmercenaries anddaemonic allieswereunleashedupon theEmperor’s servants.WhiletheTyrantofBadabhadannouncedhishatredoftheImperiumthroughabombasticwarthathaddominatedthecorewardsectors,theAngelbanehadbeenquietlysnuffingoutAdeptusAstarteshomeworldsontheothersideofthewarpstorm.Indoingso,QuetzelCarthachsatisfiedhiscruelobsessionandtheSonsoftheHydra contributed to the Legion’s murky objective of further destabilising atottering Imperium. The insurrectionists, monsters and piratical maraudersplacing themselves under the Master of Harrows’ command meanwhileprospered,pilferingvictimChaptersoftheirfinestplate,much-neededAdeptus

Astartes weaponry and fleet assets. Occam knew not how many of theUltramarines’ successorsQuetzelCarthachhad trulyended.Thedemiseof theCrimsonConsulsonCarchariashadbeenacrudekindofmercilessartistryandtheRedactedhadtakenpartintheharrowingactionsthathaddestroyedboththeVindicatorsandtheNovaLegion.Still,Occamdidnot rate theChaos lord.Whilehewasa ruthless figurehead,driven by an ancient legionary hatred, Carthach’s strategies and those hecommittedtheRedactedtowerenothalfasaccomplishedastheAngelbanelikedto think.Occamknewhecoulddobetter forhisEmperorand thatonedayhemight.‘Whatdoorbitalcapturesshow?’Occamcalledacrossthecommanddeck,ashepacedbetweenlancetscreens.Hewasgettingimpatient.ArkanReznorobligedhisstrikemaster.Superimposedonthearchedbridgeports,Occamcouldseethedirty,white surfaceofVitreaMundi rotating slowlyandsilently.Hecould seethat the vapour cloud that had risen from the soda lakes was now all butobscuring SalinaCity. It threatened to swallow the structure of theBas-Silicafortress-monasterynext.‘Andaugurs?’Occamasked.‘Fires from terror attacks and detonations across the city and within thefortress-monastery’sperimeterwalls,’Reznorsaid,studyinghisrunescreen.‘Time?’‘Nothingnew.’‘Smallarmsfire?Troopmovements?’‘Difficult to tell through the vapour cloud,’ the warpsmith said, adjustingmagnifications and filters. ‘Beyond smoke trails and fires from recentdetonations,theBas-Silicalooksquietandstill.’‘What in thewarp is going on down there?’ Occam said, almost to himself.‘Whatcanyoutellme?’ArkanReznorshruggedhisplate.‘Icantellyouthatmostofthefortress-monastery’svoidshieldsarebacktofullintensity,’ Reznor said, ‘and that I’m getting heat signatures from the defencelaserautomotivesandbatterysilos.’‘What?’‘Perhaps the Marines Mordant still hold the towers,’ Quoda hypothesised,lookingoutthroughthelancetscreens.‘Or the Angelbane ordered the surface-to-orbitals warmed up as a defensivemeasure,’SergeantHasdrubalpitchedin.

Occamlookedatthemandthenbackatthescreens.‘Defenceagainstwhat?’hesaid.‘We’retheonlyonesuphere.’Somethingwasn’t right.Occammight not have been a genicmember of theAlphaLegion,buthisinstinctswerestillwarninghimtherewassomethingoff.Lackofcommunications.Absentactivity.Timingissues…TheAngelbane’splanhadbeenproceedingrightontime.Threedaysbefore–standing on the benighted strategium deck of Carthach’s ancient flagship, theOmega-Echidnax–theSonsoftheHydra,Legionoperatives,cultistleadersandthe arch-lord’s xenos advisors had gathered tomake final preparations for theattackonVitreaMundi.It had been agreed that Carthach would lead the assault on the fortress-monastery personally, at the head of the Alpha Legion Terminators and themonstrous xenosmercenary hordes that usually accompanied his actions. TheMaster of Harrows favoured a variety of alien breeds for maximum strategicflexibility:Tarelliandog-soldiers,MorralianDeathsworn,Galgfreedomfighters,Fra’almarauders,serpentwarriorsof thesslythandeldaroutcasts.Suchxenoswould ordinarily be an unwieldy rabble. They were united in one thing,however:theirseethinghatredofhumanity.AccompanyingCarthachbyarrangementinhisassaultupontheBas-Silicaandthe veteran companies ofMarinesMordant that held the fortresswasVhospisVoyteqandhiswarband‘theKyndred’.AlphaLegionnairesgrotesquelywarpedbytheenvironsoftheMaelstrom,VoyteqandhistaintedwarriorsprovidedtheSonsoftheHydrawiththeshocktroopsrequiredfortheinevitablehand-to-handcarnagetobeundertakeninthefortress-monasterycourtyards.It was the responsibility of another of Carthach’s captains, SisyphonVail, todump chemicals in the soda lake upon whose shores Salina City rested. Thepoisonous cloud that Occam had seen rising up through the city and thecoordinatedactionsconductedbybothVail’swarband‘theHonourless’andtheirTraitor Guard terror cells had worked perfectly – driving the city populationtowards the fortress-monastery. The moment that the Marines Mordant hadopenedthemightygatesoftheBas-SilicahadbeenthesignalforCarthachandVhospisVoyteq to attack.WhileVoyteqwas a twisted thing, SisyphonVail asoullesscreatureandtheAngelbaneamadman,Occamcouldn’thelpbutadmirethe rank and file legionnaires of the Sons of the Hydra. In the quads andcourtyardsofthefortress-monastery,thefightingwouldhavebeenbloody.While most of the Alpha Legion warbands under Carthach’s command hadbeengiventhedubioushonouroffacingwhatwasleftoftheMarinesMordant

withhimdownontheplanetsurface,warbandslikeTheChainUnbrokenunderCaptainNaetrixKraytandOccam’sownRedactedhadbeenassignedsupportingroles off-world. Occam was now questioning the motivations behind thatdecision.‘LordOccam,’MinaPerditacalledfrombeyondthepulpitthrone.Shehadhereartothebridgeelevatordoors.Withdrawingtooneside,sherestedthecombatshotgunagainstoneshoulder,aimingthebarrelatwhoevermightventureforthfrom the magnelevator car. Their plasma weaponry priming with a hum, theAlphaLegionnairestookcoverandaimedattheelevatordoors.When the doors shuddered open, the Alpha Legionnaires could see that thesparking lampin thecarwasout.ThecyclingfiltersofOccam’sopticspickedoutahunched,skeletally-thinfigureinahoodedcloak,hauntingthecarinterior.Asthefigureadvancedfromtheelevator,hisfootstepsthuddedmetallicallyandwithunexpectedweightonthecommanddeck.Thefiguredidn’tgetfar.Rammingthemuzzleofthecombatshotgunintothesideofhishoodedhead,MinaPerditapinnedthegauntfaceofthenewarrivaltothesideofthewall.Asthefigurescrapedhisdownturnedheadupwards,Occamheard the squeal of metal upon metal. A single, large optic, unnatural in itsintensity,burnedgreenfromthedepthsofthehood.Withthetwitchofasnarl,Occamrecognisedtheinterloper.‘Youarenotclearedtobehere,abominablemachine,’hesaidwithannoyance.Mina Perdita and the legionnaires of the Redacted took note of the fact thatOccamhadn’tindicatedtheyshouldlowertheirweapons.WhenthethingspokeitcommunicatedinastiltedGothic,asthoughitwerealwayssearchingfortherightwords.Itsalienvoicesoundedlikearcingelectricity.‘Ineithergivenor takeorders, fleshling,’ thexenossaid. ‘Not fromyou.Notfrommyownkind.Mycounselisgivenfreely.Myreasons,myown.’Carthachkeptboththewarpedandthexenoswithinhisclosecircleofadvisors.OnesuchalienwretchwasOmizharVohk.Thethingwasahunchednightmareofancientxenostechnology,itsburnishedsilverframedrapedinaraggedblackcloak.Alivingartefact,Vohk’scyclopeanopticburneditsghoulishgreen lightintoalluponwhomheturnedhisgaze.While repugnant to be around, his timely predictions had become valued byQuetzalCarthach. Itwasupon theancientalien’s insistence thatKraytand thepirateflotillaofTheChainUnbrokenhadbeendespatchedtodelaythearrivaloftheAngelsEradicantandtheAstralFists.Vohkpredictedthatcontingentsfromboth Chapters would respond to astropathic calls for assistance from Vitrea

Mundiunlessinterceptedanddrawnaway.Thexenosadvisorsettledametalclawon thebarrelofPerdita’sshotgunandpusheditslowlyaway,freeinghisgauntmachinehead.‘Malik,’ Occam said. The xenos had an unsettling habit of appearing anddisappearing as he pleased. He would skulk around corners and back intoshadowy alcoves, vanishing like some kind of feudal world conjurer. No oneamong the Legion, including the warpsmith Reznor, understood the powerfultechnology that allowed such movement. Vohk had been reticent aboutdiscussingsuchsecrets.HewasmuchmoreinterestedintheLegion’sown.‘Inmy sights,’ the legionnaire said, themuzzle of his long-shot plasma gunfollowingVohkacrosstheroom.‘You are a violent Legion, amongst a violent race,’ the xenos machine toldthem,steppingthroughbodies.‘Don’tflatterus,’Occamsaid.Hehadlittletimefortheadvisor’sgames.‘Whatareyoudoinghere?’OmizharVohkstompedhishunchbackedwayacrossthecommanddeck.Frombehind, Occam could see that the metal vertebrae of his curved spine hadpuncturedhisraggedcloakandhood,creatingsail-likespines.‘I bring word from the surface,’ Vohk told him. ‘From your arch-lord. Notmine.Yours.’‘Whyhasn’tLordCarthachansweredourcommunications?’Occamputtothemetalnightmare.‘Hassomethinggonewrong?’‘Youmightsaythat,’Vohksaidcryptically.‘Idid,’Occamreplied.‘Whatdoyousay,xenos?’VohkpeeredoutofthelancetscreensanddownatVitreaMundiwithhisgreenoptic.HeturnedtofaceOccamwithaflourishofhisrags.‘Thefortificationofyourgenicenemieshasbeentaken,’Vohktoldhimfinally.‘TheAngelbaneisonceagainvictorious.’‘Thatsoundslikeagoodthing.’Vohk nodded his narrow cranium, his features like a mirror-polished skull.Occamcouldseehimselfinthehorrificvisage.‘Allwhocall thegalaxy theirhomedefine themselvesbywhat theyarenot,’Vohksaid.Hegesturedatthestrikemasterwithawickedclaw.‘Human,alien.ThosethatfightforthePrimordialAnnihilator,thosethatdonot.Victor,victim.Binaryoppositions.Choices,ifyouwill.’‘The Alpha Legion prides itself on resisting such narrow interpretations,’Occamhissed.‘Forus,thereisalwaysanotherway.’

‘Thatremainstobeseen,fleshling,’OmizharVohksaid.‘Letusseewhatyoudowiththischoice.Youaremonitoringthefortificationbelow,no?’Occam looked to Arkan Reznor, who looked back at his rune screen. Likeeveryone else on the command deck, he had been distracted by the alien’sarrival.Occamheardthewarpsmithcurseunderhisbreath.‘The defence lasers have powered up,’ Reznor confirmed, ‘and theemplacementisreorientating.’‘Talk,’OccamsaidtoVohk.‘Youneednotmetotellyouwhatyoualreadysuspecttobetrue,’Vohksaid.‘Whatyouhavealwayssuspectedtobetrue.’‘The Bas-Silica is going to fire upon theAssiduous?’ Occam asked, but thequestioncameoutmorelikeastatement.‘Almostcertainly.’The Alpha Legionnaires unconsciously took several steps towards the xenosadvisor, whileMina Perdita slipped into the elevator car, her finger hoveringoverthebutton.‘AtCarthach’sorder?’‘Ofcourse.’‘Why?’‘What reasondoesheneed?’Vohkput to thestrikemaster. ‘TheAngelbane’sgifthasbeeninbringingthelesser-racescumofthegalaxytogether,sothathemight drown the sons of the Eastern Primarch in your myriad talents andmotivations.Heis,however,abeingdrivenbyhate.ThePrimordialAnnihilatorhaslonghaditshooksinhim–drawinghimon.Andhehatesyou,Occam–‘theUntrue’.Hehatesyou,whatyoufight forand thosewhochoosefor theirownreasonstofightwithyou.’VohkgesturedatthelegionnairesoftheRedacted.‘Why?’EphronHasdrubaldemanded,closinginwithhisboltpistolclutchedinhisgauntlet.‘Becausewearedifferent,’Quoda thesorcerersaid, ‘andwedefineourselvesbywhatwearenot.’‘TheAlphaLegionhasmadeanartoutofpretendingtobesomethingtheyarenot,’Vohktoldthem,‘butyouaren’tpretending.Yourprimarchisn’tyourown.Yourbloodbetraysyou.Theleasttreasonousthingaboutyouallisthepaintonyour plate. At least that can claim to belong to the Legion. Your arch-lordemploys renegade Space Marines, but you are the only ones in his ranks todesecratethecoloursofhisLegionbywearingthem.’

‘Thedefence laserarray?’Occamput toReznor, turningaway from thealienadvisor.‘Stillreorientating,’thewarpsmithsaid,‘butapproachingourtargettrajectory.’‘Voidshields?’Occamasked.‘Cannot be activated in void-dock,’ Reznor told him. ‘The scaffold-platforia.Therepairs.’‘Liketheuniverse,fleshling,’Vohksaid,‘youarerunningoutoftime.’‘Quoda, tellme you can read this abominate thing,’Occam said, turning hisbackonthealien.‘Hecannot,’Vohkassured the strikemaster, tappinghis silver skullwithoneclaw.‘Hiswarp-bornpowershavenodominionhere.’‘Everything you have said, Carthach knows,’ Occam said. ‘None of usoriginallybelongedtotheLegion.MalikwasoneoftheNight Haunter’sattackdogs and my sergeant a hunted member of the Fallen. Quoda there is anexcommunicatememberoftheRelictorsandmywarpsmithwasrunoutoftheMentors Chapter by the Inquisition for unsanctioned technologicalexperimentation.Carthachhimself recommendedPhex for service inmy ranksandheisasuccessorsonofGuilliman.’‘Becausehehatesyou,’OmizharVohktoldhim.‘Hehatesyourbloodandhehatestheheartsthatpumpit,forheknowsthatintheirownwaysandfortheirown reasons, suchhearts still beat for theEmperor. Even the attack dog,whocareslittleforwhomhefights.’‘Again,’Occamsaid,withnolittlefrustration,‘LordCarthachknowsthis.TheSonsoftheHydraallstrikeintheirdifferentways.IthasbeenthehallmarkoftheAngelbane’s success– to thisveryday.Xenos-lovers.Altereds.Seditionistcells.Pirates.Andyes–evenloyalists.Weallhaveouruses.’‘Itseemsthatyouhaveoutlivedyourusefulness,fleshling.’‘Go back to Lord Carthach,’ Occam told Vohk, towering over the hunchedmachineinhisplate.‘Tellhimthatwehaveaccomplishedourobjectiveingoodfaith and in his name. That as true Sons of the Hydra, we await his furtherorders.’‘Listentoyourself,renegade,’Vohksaid.‘Goodfaith.Truesons.’‘Tellhim!’‘Icannot.’‘Whynot?’‘BecauseitwasIthatadvisedhimtofireuponyou.’Stunnedsilencesettleduponthecommanddeck.

‘IindulgedalittleintheuntruthsthatyourLegionrevelsin,’Vohksaid.‘Itoldhim, nowwith the successor sons ofGuilliman defeated, that you intended tousurp his command. I told him of your little secret concerning your shape-changingAssassinthere.Thatyouintendedtosetheruponhimagain–tofinallyfinishwhatshestarted.Ifindthatliesarebesthiddenamongsttruths,no?’SergeantHasdrubalbroughtuphisboltpistolandlevelleditatOmizharVohk’ssilverytemple.‘Weshouldendthisxenosabominationandleave,’thesergeantsaid.Occamstaredat theancient.Vohkstaredbackwith thegreen intensityofhiscyclopeanoptic.‘It’stoolateforthat,’Occamsaid.‘Thisalienthinghaskeptustalkingandseentothat.Right?’‘Theyalmosthaveus,’thewarpsmithconfirmed.‘Yousaidmostofthefortressvoidshieldsarebackupandoperational,’Occamchecked,nottakinghiseyesoffOmizharVohk.‘Whichonesaren’t?’‘Theonesthroughwhichthedefencelaserswouldhavetofireinordertostrikethisvessel,’Reznortoldhisstrikemaster.‘Itistimetofindanotherway.Itistimetomakeachoice,OccamtheUntrue,’Vohksaid.‘HaveyououtlivedyourusefulnessorhasLordCarthach?’‘Usefulnesstowho?’Occamdemanded.‘Tome,fleshling,’ theancientsaid.‘Tothegodsandemperorsof thisgalaxy.To the specieswhomight prosper here and toyourLegion,who ten thousandyears ago made the most difficult of choices. Can you make the same, Iwonder?’‘Sir?’SergeantHasdrubalsaid.‘Mylord?’ArkanReznorasked.Occamlookedaroundthecommanddeck.FromMinaPerdita’sfalsefacetotheserpentine helms of the Redacted and on to the leering skull-face of themechanicalmonsterbeforehim.‘Isthebombardmentcannon’stargettrajectorystillset?’Occamaskedfinally.‘On the fortress-monastery, yes,’ Reznor said. ‘With the dorsal section guncrewsstillstandingby.Wecanexploitthevoidshieldopeningif–’‘Have them execute their captain’s final order,’ Occam said, cutting thewarpsmithoff.Inthesilencethatfollowed,theRedactedheardthebombardmentcannonfireand felt the buck of the linear accelerator through the deck. The AlphaLegionnairesmoved towards the lancet screens and waited for the inevitable.

Either themagma bombwarheadwould hit the fortress-monastery first or theBas-Silica’s defence laserswould blaze the defenceless battle-barge out of theheavens.Asanapocalypticglowroseupfromtheplanetsurface,Occamfelthisplatesagslightly.Whetherthiswasreliefortheweightofresponsibilityfortheatrocityhehadjustcommitted,hecouldnottell.Regardlessofthehundredsofthousands of Imperial citizens that had just been vaporised, the bombardmentcannon had buried hundreds of Alpha Legion Space Marines and their cultfollowersbeneaththem.Foramomentthespectacleheldthelegionnaire’sgaze.‘Sir,’EphronHasdrubalsaid.Occamturned.OmizharVohkwasgone.Behindhisfaceplate,Occamsnarled.HadCarthachintendedoncelebratinghisvictory by finally purging the Redacted? Or had the alien ancient simplyconvincedtheAngelbaneofimminentbetrayal,ashehaddonewithOccam?Thestrikemasterfelttheopticsofhislegionnairesonhim.Anexplanationwasrequired.Adirection,at least–evenifOccamdidn’tknowwhat thatdirectionwas.‘Whichever way you look at this,’ he told the Redacted, ‘we have done theEmperor’sworkheretoday.’TheAlphaLegionnairesnoddedtheirhelmsslowlyinsombreagreement.‘Yourorders,strikemaster?’Reznorasked.‘It will not be long before the Astral Fists and the Angels Eradicant breaksystem,’Occamtoldthem.‘Kraytandhispirateswillnotbeabletodelaythemforlong.Wearenotgoingtobeherewhentheyarrive.Quoda,accompanythesergeant. I want the armoury checked on our way off this hulk for anythinguseful to replenish our own – specialist ammunition and equipment, raregrenades and artificer weaponry. Check with Reznor regarding our needs.Reznor,Iwantyoutore-establishatmosphericsandpressureonthethoraxgundecks.Thenhave thesub-lightenginecolumnsengaged.Push thisbeast intoafast-deterioratingorbit.Phex,gowithPerditaandprepthedroppodandlighter.Malik,withme.We’llallmeetbackattheSerpent’sEggandabandontheship.’As members of the Redacted took to the elevator car and dropped downthroughtheholesinthecommanddeck,Occamtookonelast lookthroughthelancetscreensattheglowingcraterthathadbeentheBas-Silica.VilniusMalikjoinedhim.‘Lookslikewe’reonourown,’Occamsaid.‘Itwon’tpreyonmyconscience,’theformerNightLordanswered.‘Mineneither,’Occamassuredhim.‘ForIcan’taffordtohaveone.’

PARTII

GHOSTLEGION

εSNAKEEYES

TheAssassinassumedtheidentityofanother.Itwasherway.Ithurtjusttobeherself and such inner tormentdroveher to seek solace in the shapesofotherpeople.Everyone.Anyonebutherself.Minawasamistressof shadowandsuggestion.Aboard the Iota-Æternus shedid not bother with polymorphine. Every agonising transformation under thepowerfuldrug’sinfluencecosther.Thetemple,however,hadequippedherwithmany skills.Silence.Stealth.Agility.Evenwhen shecouldbe seen, shemadeherselfunremarkable.Unobtrusiveandpartofthepattern.Even without wasting the chameleon-like properties of the drug, her arts ofdeceptionwereconsiderable.Shewasakeenobserverofhumanbehaviour.Shealsohadanexquisitecontroloverbothbodyandvoice–thekindofskillsthatanactressorperformercouldonlydreamofwielding.Shemovedlikeaphantominflesh, stealingpropsandclothing toaidherpresentationas shewent.Shewaspresentlyarobedyoungman.Lithe.Muscledlikeakillerbutwiththeglintingeyes of a hooded, religious deviant. One of the Seventh Sons trusted by thesuperhuman sorcerer Carcinus Quoda to work at his beck and call in thelibrarium.TheAssassinusedserpentanddeathculttattoosonherskin,aswellaspenalcolonyidenticacodesfromKorsino421,where theSeventhSonshadbeenradicalisedandrecruited.She crossed the small command deck of the Iota-Æternus with her gorgonmaskhangingfromthebeltofherrobes.TheAlphaLegionvesselwasarefittedQ-ship–asprintfreighteroutfittedwithhiddenheavyweaponry.Typically,suchQ-shipswouldbemixedintofreighterconvoystoactasadeterrentandsurprisedefence against pirates. The Redacted had found the Iota-Æternus –with itscargoholdsoutfittedwithconcealedbatteriesandextradecksforhousingtheircult armies – perfect for their needs. TheQ-shipmade for a versatile base of

mobileoperationsforOccamtheUntrueandhisAlphaLegionnaires.Perdita passed between the cultist-manned runebanks of the cramped bridge,herrobedshapecuttingasilhouetteintocommanddecklancetscreens.UpontheordersofLordOccam,onthereturnoftheSerpent’sEggandcultboardingcrafttotheQ-ship, theIota-ÆternushadtakenpositioninthenearbyKraalNebula.TheAlphaLegionvesselwasholdinghiddenstation in thenebula,monitoringtheVitreaMundisystemintheaftermathoftheattack.TheAssassinpassedbeneath thegazeofTorghaiNaga-Khan, shipmasterandcaptainoftheIota-Æternus.AChogorisian,Naga-Khanwasaverbosecharacterfullofcharmandintellect.In the interestsofextra securityandperverse indulgence,Perditamade itherbusiness to move unrecognised amongst the ship’s cultist crew and trustedoperatives like Freydor Blatch and Captain Naga-Khan. The Assassin evenoccasionally chanced her hand with their enigmatic overlords, the renegadedemigods of the Alpha Legion, especially if she sensed there was somethingparticularlysignificantandunsharedtranspiringamongthem.Perditaknew,forexample,thatNaga-KhanhadbeenfirstofficeronanImperialNavy frigate during the Damocles Crusade. There to check the aggressiveexpansionofeasternxenosempires,Naga-Khanwasunfortunateenoughtogetcaughtupinamutinyagainstatyrannical,spire-borncaptain.Takingcontrolofthe vessel and knowing that a courtmartial and a commissar’s noose awaitedhimbackwiththeImperialfleet,Naga-Khangavehimselfandhisfrigateuptotheir enemies, the alien t’au.Findingemploymentwith thexenos collectivists,Naga-KhanbecameaGue’vesaprivateer,usinghisinsideknowledgetopreyonmilitaryconvoyssupplyingImperialforcesintheDamoclesGulf.Everthefreespirit, the successful privateer began selling his talents to the highest bidder,findinghimselffinallyintheemployofOccamtheUntrue.Climbing the starboard pulpit staircase, Perditamoved past Naga-Khan. TheshipmasterwasdrinkingsomekindofChogorisianhorse-swillfromawineskin,droplets ofwhich dribbled down the luxurious black length of hismoustache,beardandhair.Naga-Khandrankalmostconstantly,feedingtheshipmaster’segoandpushinghimandhisvesselontoevermoreaudaciousfeats.Behindtheshipmaster’s throne,Perditaenteredthelibrarium,whichoccupiedthe rear sectionof thecommanddeck.AsPerdita shuffledpastprintedvellumandduckedbeneathjawlessservo-skullsspewingitoutfromtheirquill-mountedmandibles,shemovedthroughothertrustedmembersoftheSeventhSons.TheAssassin knew that loyalist SpaceMarineChaptersmanned their librariawith

powerfulpsykersresponsibleforinterstellarcommunicationsandwarrior-clericswhomaintained theChapter’s repositories ofwisdomandhistory.SuchSpaceMarines kept reports, researched treatises and maintained the memoirs of theChapter’sgreatestmartialminds.Alpha Legionnaires like the Redacted had precious little need for suchrepositories.Instead,thesorcererCarcinusQuodaranhisintelligence-gatheringoperation out of the librarium command centre. Perdita moved through thehololithic displays and runebanks, which were covered in vellum scrolls anddata-slates.UnderQuoda’sauthority,calculuslogi,lexomatsandlinguitorunitswent towork on data gathered by cultists, operatives, code-scrubbers and thesorcerer’s small astropathic choir-coven. Seemingly drawn to the other warp-sensitivemutantsonboard,Ghesh–theship’sNavigator–alsofrequentedthelibrarium.Likeallwitchbreeds,CarcinusQuodawasodd.Reservedandcautious,hewaslike a blind man feeling his way through the galaxy’s secrets – sifting foranything of use to the Redacted. Perdita watched the twitchy sorcerer moveabouttheintelligencecentre,histoweringfiguredressedinship’srobes.Whiledisplayingnoobviouscorruptions,despitehissorcerousdabblingsinthewarp,Quodahadaweakness forartefacts–bothalienand those taintedbyChaos–that might help the Redacted serve the Emperor. His Chapter had beenexcommunicatedforsuchheresy.Perditaknewthathekeptdangerousrelicsinasecurevault,adjoininghisprivatesuiteofcells,buthadnevermanagedtogainadmittance.Shemonitoredthesorcereroutofthecornerofhereyeasheriffledthroughscrolls,consultedattendantcultistsandcommunedwithhisastropathicchoir.‘AnythingfromtheOmega-Echidnax?’aSeventhSonaskedher.Thedeeplinesofhisfaceandtheglintofbridgelampsofftheshortsilverbristlesofhisclose-croppedheadbetrayed thecultist’sage.A formerprisoner, just like the restoftheSeventhSons,hisabilitieshadbeenputtoworkinthelibrariumratherthanas part of death cultist boarding actions. Perdita looked down at the vellumscrapsshewasabsentlyflickingthrough.Shehandedhimapiecethatdetailedalack of vox-contact and returns from the Angelbane’s flagship. As they hadconcludedforothervesselsbelongingtotheSonsoftheHydra,Quoda’slogiandintelligenceanalystshaddeterminedthatinallprobabilitytheircrews–thinkingallhadbeenlostonthesurfaceofVitreaMundi–hadfledthesystem.‘What about other vessels in the region?’ the silver-haired cultist asked,squintingatthereportPerditahadhandedhim.Shepassedhimadata-slatethis

time, identifyingvox-interceptsfromanAstralFistsstrikecruiser thathad justbroken system. The Astral Fists’ communications would go unheeded. TherewasaglowingcraterwheretheBas-SilicaandSalinaCityusedtobe.TheagedSeventh Son shuffled off to show the reports to his master, Carcinus Quoda.Quietly,theAssassinleftthebridgeandlibrarium.Itwaseasierindulgingintheartofbeingothers.Shehaddonesomanyterriblethings during her time in the Officio temples. She had murdered men andwomen,theyoungandtheold.Shehadbeenthepersonifiedendtodefencelessaliens andhumans taintedbeyonduse to themselves. In training shehad evenkilled sister Assassins: girls with whom she had lived and trained. Perditasometimesthoughtthatshemightbehidingfromtheterriblethingsdonetoher,ratherthanthoseshehadinflicteduponothers.Horrorsexperiencedininfancy,before the temple surgeons had experimented upon her flesh and frame withmuscle-rupturing chemicals, pop-up plates of carapace and pneumatic boneextensions.Thingsshecouldnotrememberorrecall.She was no longer some temple tool to be unleashed at another’s choosing.Conversely, she had no intention of becoming like others she had seen – anacolyte of some Ruinous Power promising gifts of change that she alreadypossessed. She was not interested in coin, opportunity or protection – all ofwhichshecouldprocureforherself.Inbreakingher,theAlphaLegionhadgivenher purpose. Occam the Untrue was her compass and his objectives her trueNorth.In reality, the actionaboveVitreaMundihadconstitutedabrutal coup ratherthanapurge.TheRedacted,amongotherAlphaLegioncellsoperatinglooselyunder the Angelbane’s banner – like Naetrix Krayt’s pirates – were stilltechnicallySonsoftheHydra,onlynowwiththeusurpingOccamtheUntrueastheirdefactoleader.Perdita had no idea what Lord Occam’s next movemight be. So far, it justseemedtoinvolvehidingintheKraalNebula.PerhapsheplanneduponjoiningforceswithKrayt.PerhapshewouldrundowntheOmega-Echidnaxandtransferhisoperationstotheflagship.PerditaconsideredhemightevenfollowthroughontheAngelbane’soperationsintheVitreaMundisystemandattackthearrivingAstralFists.BeforedecidingwhetherornottostaywiththeAlphaLegion,theAssassinintendedtofindout–andshewouldn’tsimplywaitforafork-tonguedannouncementfromtheship’sdemigodoverlords.MovingthroughtheAlphaLegionvessel,Perditaindulgedanotheridentity.Hernext choice was one of the slight, bright-eyed girls she had seen on the

dormitorydecks.While the renegades busied themselves with the lofty prosecution oflabyrinthine schemes, and operatives were either recruited or imprisoned onboard for the utilisation of their talents, the Seventh Sons ran a small, self-sufficient colony on the converted decks of the freighter. They were not cultslavestobeorganisedintomeatshieldformationsorregimentsbeingtransportedaboardNavycarrierstotheirdeaths.TheIota-ÆternuswastheirhomeandtheAlphaLegionoverlordswalkedamong them likehouseholdgods.OnKorsino421 the prisoners were too deadly and unified by the death cult faith to besegregated. The penal colonies were close-knit criminal communities, whereorderwasmaintainednotbywallsandwardensbutbycultstructuresestablishedbytheHighSerpentandhisAlphaLegionsponsors.Movingfromthe trudgingstepofa librariumattendant to the light treadofacolony courtesan, she adjusted her hair and cult robes in a savage design toframeherharshbutattractivefeatures.Sheshowedoffothertattoos.Bythetimesheturnedintooneofthecolony’sopendeckthoroughfares,containingserpentshrines,fightingpitsandcommunalgalleys,herdisguisewascomplete.BrushingshoulderswithotherbrothersandsistersoftheSeventhSons,Perditacould smell spicy food being prepared and felt the spray of blood fromdeathcultists competing for sport in shallow fighting pits crafted from cargo crates.Shepassed individual cellswhere cultistswere indulging in sense-heighteningnarcotics, being tattooed and ritually scarred. She stepped over poisonousserpents that slithered across the deck. Collected from myriad worlds, theirvenomwasusedintempleceremonies.Manyhadescapedtheircontainmenttoinfesttheship.Movingdownthroughthedecks,shelookedinontheHighSerpent’spersonalquarters.ItwasherethatshehadsometimesfoundFreydorBlatchdrinkingwiththeshipmasterorplayingregicidewithGheshtheNavigator.Shefoundhimthistimediscussingcultbusinesswithhissevendisciples.Amongthemostdeadlyofthe death cultists and influential among the former prison population, thediscipleswere theHighSerpent’seyes,earsandmouthpieceamong thecultistcolony.UnlikePerditaherself,theSeventhSonscaredlittlefortheeventsaboveVitrea Mundi and possible repercussions to come. They would follow theirAlphaLegionmasters–towhomtheyowedeverything–intothe ragingeyeofawarpstorm.Theywerecontenttodoastheywereasked.The Assassin moved lightly through the chamber. It was more lavishlydecoratedthantherathersparseenvironsoftherestofthecolony.Shetookupa

carafe ofwine and refilled the chalices of the disciples and theHigh Serpenthimself.Blatchwasinmid-diatribeandwasmorethandistracted.WhilePerditatrailedherfingertipssuggestivelyalongonegirl’sshouldersandthebackoftheHighSerpent’s fat neck,Blatchbarelynoticedher.Confident that theSeventhSonswerediscussinglittleofnote,theAssassinpushedon.She retained the disguise of the cultist girl as she came across EphronHasdrubal. The Alpha Legion sergeant was where he could usually be foundwhen not attending upon Lord Occam or off-ship on a mission: the practicecages.WhilemanyrenegadeSpaceMarinesallowedcorruption to take root intheirgeneticallyengineeredfleshortheirprowesstowitherthroughtheages,thedemigods of the Redacted maintained at least some rituals of their previouslives.AsshetendedbrieflytotheinjuriesofbatteredandbrokenSeventhSonsintheantechamber,PerditawatchedSergeantHasdrubalgo toe to toewith tendeathcultistswithin the practice cages. Peering surreptitiously through the bars, shesaw the bare-chested sergeant – his ship’s robes like skirts about his waist –dancethroughhisopponentswiththegraceofademigod.Improvisingandmovingfromtechniquetoexoticcombattechnique,Hasdrubalwieldedhistorturer’smulti-bladelikeapractice-cagegladius.Theviciousdeathcultists – all chosen for their own differing techniques and physical talents –swung, sliced and stabbed at the legionnairewith venom-slick blades of theirown. Time and again, Perdita saw the sergeant dodge razored edges ofsmoulderinglethality,hispaleskinuntouched.While the death cultistswere fast and deadly enough to cut a buzzing fly intwo, theAlphaLegion sergeant’s superhuman reflexesmade them appear likethey were swinging through syrup. Turning the multi-blade in his hand,Hasdrubal batted aside his attackers’ lunges. Blades edged with neural meshturnedcultistweaponsintocontact-instrumentsofshriekingtorture.Chainbladespranged envenomed swords from grips while energy-sheathed power bladesshearedcultistweaponsintwo.Withthefaceofahuntedman–amanwithnointentionofeverbeingtakenbyhis loyalist Dark Angels brothers – Ephron Hasdrubal snatched up disarmedcultists and threw themdownonto thedeck.Othershebackhandedacross thepracticecagewiththecontemptofademigod,whilethelastgotthelegionnaire’sheeljackhammeredstraightintotheabdomen,breakingtheSeventhSon.Thesergeantstoodthere,barelybreakingasweatandfine-tuninghistorturer’sblade.Allabouthim,cultistsgroanedandcrawledoverthedeckinadaze.

‘Again,’ the sergeant ordered, prompting replacement cultists to enter thepracticecage.Perditaraninwithseveralothers.Shehadnointentionofgoingbladetobladewiththedemigod,althoughshedidsuspectthatwithhertempletrainingshemightfarebetterthanthepenalcolonykillersbeingdraggedoutofthecage.Instead,shetookthebrokencultistunderthearmwithanotherSeventhSon,andhelpedtheunfortunateaway.Theshipinfirmarywasmercifullynotfaraway.Unfortunately,itwassmallandalready overrun with injured cultists from the boarding action on the battle-barge. Seventh Sons, bandaged and recuperating, swung from hammocks thathadbeensetuponpipesliningthecorridorsoutsidetheinfirmary.TheAssassinhandedthebrokendeathcultistoff toamedicae-servitor.UnderthewatchfulgazeoftwoSeventhSonsminders,hostagemedicalstafftendedtotheinjured.WhilethecultistswerewillingservantsoftheAlphaLegionandoperativeslikePerditaengaged inservice to therenegades, the talentsofsomewere less thanvoluntary.TheRedacteddidn’tboastanAlphaLegionApothecaryandsopenalcolonymedics,nursesandservitorsweretakenhostagebytheliberatedSeventhSonsandputtoworkintheshipinfirmary.Movedbetweenthemedicalfacilitiesandthebrig,themedicalstaffandchirurgeonsweretreatedwellinexchangeforuse of their life-saving talents when the circumstances required it. Perditasuspected that the colonymedicswere simplywaiting for theday an ImperialcruisermightcapturetheIota-Æternusandfinallyfreethehostages.Whatmadethemedicalstaffevenmorepliableandcooperative,however,wastheinsistenceby theirSeventhSonspatients that evenshould thatcome topass, theywouldonly see the inside of another cell – this time in some backwater Inquisitionstronghold.Not far from the practice cages, Perdita could hear the shooting range. Thesingle thunderclaps of a boltgun echoed up the passageways, prompting theAssassin to change her disguise once more. Selecting the appearance of thebrokencultistshehadjustdeliveredtotheinfirmary,shebroughtupherhood.Utilisingpropsandabandonedclothingfromthecrowdedinfirmary,shechangedhergaitandtheconfidencewithwhichshecarriedherself.Shepassedthroughthe range to find the renegade known as VilniusMalik there. Like his AlphaLegion brothers he was dressed in ship’s robes and aiming a Stalker-patternboltgundownthelengthoftheshootinggallery.Cultist wranglers had manhandled several mutants into the plasma-blastedrange. Such creatures, never in short supply on the fringe worlds of the

Maelstrom,werenogoodtothemselvesoranyoneelse.Astheyranawkwardlybetweenbolt-blastedcargocrates,Malik–hiseyetotheStalker’sscope–pickedthemoff.Blowingtheheadsoffthemutantsmighthaveseemedamercybutforthe delight clear on the legionnaire’s face. As Seventh Sons cultists wrestledanother grotesquemutant from storage incarceration, Perdita gave them room.Pickingupapairofammunitioncrates,shemovedon.TheAssassinfoundtheRedacted’swarpsmithhardatworkinhisworkshops,overseeing theworkmanship of a small army of interfaced technical servitors.His mechadendrites snaked about him, making small recalibrations andadjustmentsbeforewhippingbackintohisplate.NotunlikethesorcererQuoda,PerditaalwaysfoundArkanReznorhardatstudyandwork.TorghaiNaga-KhanmighthavebeenshipmasteroftheIota-Æternusbutthevesselreallybelongedtothe arch-experimenter Reznor. His servitors and upgraded servo-automatamaintained the converted freighter, while the Q-ship’s concealed weapon andsprint engine columns both benefitted from customisation with alientechnologies.Unlike Quoda, who always maintained a haunted, detached air, Reznor washappy to shareenthusiasm forhisworkand technicalpassions.His invaluablecontribution to the Redacted had undoubtedly enhanced the small warband’seffectivity and allowed them to achievemuchmore than their numbersmightsuggest.AsPerditaenteredtheworkshop,shefoundherselfbarredbytheappearanceofthe warpsmith’s personal servo-automata – Beta, Zeta and Theta. Using theirunderbelly nest of serpentine mechatendrils, they took the ammunition cratesfromherandhoveredbeforetheAssassin,promptinghertoleavetheworkshop.Findingherself in theaft-sectionof theship,Perditapulledherhoodupoverherheadandwalkeddownadarkcorridorfromwhichadjoinedtheprivatecellsof the Alpha Legion overlords. Outside the chambers belonging to AutoliconPhex,theAssassin’sexcellenthearingpickedupasound.Sheslowed,takingafurtivelookupanddownthepassagebeforelisteningcloseratthemetalofthedoor.Within,Perditacouldhearmuffledwhimpers,harshwhispersandthesoundofbanging, like a head against a wall. Phex had been the latest addition to theRedacted.TheAssassinknewofPhex’streatmentatthehandsoftheAngelbaneandthearch-lord’sinsistencethathejoinOccamtheUntrue.Asshelistenedtothedemigod’ssuffering,Perditaconsideredhoweachmemberof theRedactedwasamadmaninhisownwayandthattheadditionofanotherwouldmakelittle

difference.Attherearoftheship,situatedbetweenthecustomisedenginecolumnsoftheIota-Æternus,were the private chambers of Lord Occam. Of the Untrue, theAssassinknewalmostnothing.Hewasunusual,evenforamemberoftheAlphaLegion.PerditaknewpreciouslittleoftheImperiumoftenthousandyearsagobut understood that like the rest of the Emperor’s Space Marines, the AlphaLegion had once been loyal. Like the Imperium itself, the Legion had beenshatteredbytheeventsofthegalacticcivilwarandevenmorebyashorteternityofstagnantdisintegration.Perdita understood fromworking amongst the renegades that the once proudAlphaLegion–worthy,proficientandloyal–nowsharedthesamefateasotherfallenLegions.TheLegionwasanestofknottedserpents,anentityasonebutwitheveryfangedheadpullinginadifferentdirection.Cellsoperatingontheirown.AlphaLegionwarbands,formingbriefcollectivesundercharismaticarch-lords like Quetzel Carthach. The rare sub-sector wide Harrowing – crudecataclysmscoordinatedunderthecoverofBlackCrusades.AsPerditaenteredOccam’svaultedchamberssheheardhermasterwithin.‘Priest,’thestrikemastersaid,hiswordslikeawarning,‘thereisnothingtofearhere.Pray,enter.’TheAssassin listened to the lie.Sheknewthataswellas themedics,Occamhadtakenapriest.ConfessorKressnikhadbeensenttothepenalcolonytousehisskillsinoratorytodrawtheprisonpopulationfromtheirserpentworshipandbacktotheEmperor’slightinreadinessforregimentalprocessing–theSeventhSonsweretobecomepartofacannon-fodderpenallegion.Occamhadtakenaninterestinthepriest,routinelyhavinghimbroughttohischambers.What the strike master didn’t knowwas that Kressnik had hangedhimselfinhiscellwithinhoursofbeingtakenprisonerandthatPerditahadbeenimpersonatingthepriestandkeepingthelegionnaire’scounseleversince.Perditalethercultistrobesslipofftorevealtheraggedremainsofthepriest’sfilthywhitecassock.Shepulledupthepriest’svoxhailerhalf-masktocoverthebottompartofher faceandproducedhis limpmitre fromapocket.Arrangingherhairbeneath themitre, she tookamoment toassume thepriest’s limpandmovedoninside.Inside thechamberwasdark,whichworkedwell for theAssassin.Astained-glass window in the rear of the chamber threatened to bathe its gloom in amultitude of colours whenever the Q-ship’s sub-light engines fired. Perditaenteredaroomwithinaroom.Incongrously,atinychapellaywithin.

SheknewthehistoryoftheshrinefromOccam.WhenreportshadreachedthestrikemasterthatWordBearersshipsoutofGhalmekhadhittheshrineworldofCanticula,hehadorderedtheIota-Æternusdivertedthere.AlltheAlphaLegionhadfoundwassmoulderingruinsandsuffering.The precious artefact denoting Canticula as a shrine world was the tiny,unassuming Chapel of the Immaculate Ascension. The chapel had been builtupon the supposed site of theEmperor’s landing there, early inhis crusade tospreadhumanity’sdominionthroughoutthestars.Itevenincorporatedapartialimpression of the Emperor’s armoured boot, left behind by his visit andpreservedbynaturalprocesses.TheAssassin didn’t knowwhether the artefactwas fake – asmany claimingsuchheritagewere–butthelittle,backwaterworldhadbecomeadestinationforpilgrimswhowanted towalk in theirGod-Emperor’s footsteps.Claiming thatwheretheMasterofMankindhadbeenthedarkforcesofthegalaxycouldnotfollow,Canticula–andtheChapeloftheImmaculateAscensioninparticular–hadbecomeamagnetnotonlyforexorcistsanddaemonhuntersbutalso thosebelievingthemselvestaintedorevenpossessed.Ontheflagsaboutthealtarandon the sides of theholyobject itself, Perdita hadnoted the fadedmarkingsofancient hexagrammic wards, purity seals, chiselled extracts from the LectitioDivinitatusandsigilsofbanishment.Shesuspectedthatmanypilgrimsarrivedatthe chapel with shackled loved ones who were merely suffering frommentalafflictionsordelusionsbroughtonbytoxichiveworldenvironments.Inreality,theAssassinknewlittleaboutsucharcaneritualsandprotectionsandforallshereally knew, a thousand polluting entitiesmight have been banished upon thealtar.TheWordBearershadcertainlybelievedintheshrineworld’ssignificanceandhad decimated its small cities from orbit. Arriving on Canticula, Occam theUntruediscoveredtheruinedchapeltobepartiallyintactandthealtaruntouchedbythedestructionthathadraineddownfromtheheavens.UsinglightersandtheSeventh Sons as labour, the strike master had what was left of the chapeltransporteduptotheIota-Æternusandrebuiltinhischambers.As Perdita walked through the derelict chapel and approached the altar shecouldseethepartial impressionof thebootprint inset inthesurface.It lookedlike nothing to her, but for billions across the Imperium – including LordOccam – it was a visual reminder of the Emperor’s enduring presence in thegalaxy.ItrepresentedthedifficultpathwalkedbytheMasterofMankindandthetruestofhissubjects.Thesymbolofadestinationasyetunreached.

Perdita looked up.Through the doorless archway of the shattered chapel shesawOccamtheUntruesittinginthechamber’scommandthronelikeatroubledking. Crafted of jet, in the slithering semblance of amany-headed hydra, thethrone glistened in the gloom.Dismissing a servo-skull and the Seventh Sonsassignedtohispersonalneedslikeassemblinghisplateandpreparingweaponry,Occamgotupfromthethrone.Hisship’srobestrailedalongthepolishedfloorasheapproachedthechapel.Evenwithouthisarmour,hisfootstepssentquakesthroughthedeckthatPerditafeltthroughthecoldsolesofherbarefeet.Marchinginthroughthearchway,thedemigodkneltbeforethealtarandmadethesignoftheaquilaacrosshischest.Evennow,theAssassinconsidered,itwassuchastrangethingtoseearenegadeSpaceMarinedo.‘Confessor,’Occamsaid,hiswordsbouncingunnaturallythroughtheshatteredarchitectureoftherebuiltchapel.‘Hearme.’Withatheatricallookofdreadcrossingherfalsefeatures,Perditaassumedtherole of the priest oncemore. She readied her voice and became the priest inmannerandsyllable.‘IfImust.’‘Gracious,asalways,’Occamsaid.‘Forallthegraceallowedaprisoner,’Perditareplied.When the strikemaster didn’t reply immediately she thought shemight havepushed the confessor’s disdain too far. Confessor Kressnik was a man of theGod-Emperor,keptincarceratedaboardanAlphaLegionvesselforitscaptain’samusement.Perditahaddecidedthatthepriestwouldbeproudbutstillfearful–asindeedshewasinthepresenceofOccamtheUntrue.‘WhatevergoodgraceIamallowed,isyours.’‘Youarewisebeyondyouryears,confessor,’Occamsaid.‘Speakuntome,’Perditasaid,‘asyoumightbeforeyourGod-Emperor.’‘Andhewilllisten?’‘HelistensasafathertoHischildren.’‘Hiswaywardchildren,’Occamsaid.‘Theunfavouredarenotforgotten,’Perditatoldhim,tryingherbesttoemulatethe priest and a hundred others she had known with their dry sermonising.‘Unburdenyourhearts,SpaceMarine.’PerditawatchedasLordOccamflickedhisgazeupatherbriefly.Itfeltlikethesightsofasniper’srifleaimedatherhead.‘I have served theMaster ofMankind,’Occam said, ‘in a life long forgottenandIservehimstill.’

‘Yetyoukeepcompanywithdeviantsandheretics,’Perditainterjected.‘They are weapons to be wielded,’ the strike master said, ‘and a weapon isnothing in itself. A razored blade. An undetonated charge. A shell, silent andunrealisedwithinitsmagazine.Aweaponneedsahandtodirectitsdestruction.Todecidewhowillliveandwhowilldiebyitsagency.’‘Andyouarethathand?’‘No,’OccamtheUntruetoldher.‘TheEmperoris–forIamaweaponalsoandhehaddirectedmetowardshisenemies.’‘Thehereticsyoufightbeside…’‘IfthatiswhattheMasterofMankindwills,thenyes,’Occamsaid,hiswordsgrowingkeenerandsharperwitheveryutterance.This is what Mina Perdita had learned about the strike master from suchconversations.Hewantedtobequestioned;hewantedtobechallenged.Hewasunsureofwhichdirection to take.Occam theUntruewasno less lost than themadmenandcorruptedsoulsunderwhosebannershehadfought.Inagalaxyofconfusion, uncertainty and lies, Perdita decided, even amember of theAlphaLegionwasalloweddoubt.Standingbeforehiminthesemblanceofapriest,shewasalivingembodimentofsuchaprinciple.‘TheImperiuminitspresentstateisnotthedominiontheEmperorintended,’Occamsaid,hisvoicelacedwithaccusation.‘Itforevertottersontheprecipiceof destruction, is infested with alien empires and riddled with the taint ofcorruption.’‘Doyounotshareinsomeofthatresponsibility,renegade?’Perditaputtohim.‘Idonot,’Occamsaid.‘ThelordsoftheHolyOrdos,theEcclesiarchyandthebattle-brothers of the Adeptus Astartes do. Through their every feeble action,they sustain the ailing beast that is the Imperium. I want to put it out of itsmisery. Iwant to purge the rot and the stagnation. Iwantwhat theMaster ofMankindwants–theempirewewerepromised.’‘How can you know the mind of the God-Emperor?’ Perdita pressed. Shebacked from the altar asOccamsuddenlygot tohis feet.The Assassin cursedherself. Instead of venting his imperious fury, the strike master narrowed hiseyesatherinthoughtandrecognition.Perdita’sheartthuddedinherchest.Shehad responded to the legionnaire’s sudden movement with the reflexes of anAssassin,notanelderlypriest.‘The blood that runs through these veins,’ Occam told her, his voice low,‘belongs to my genic father and my father’s father. I am engineered of theEmperor’sflesh.Whatareyou,priest,butthedetritusofhumanitywashedupon

the shores of some cardinalworld, bloatedwith its own self-importance?Youstand in thoseragsand in theruinsofchurchesand think thatqualifiesyou tospeakonHisbehalf?Youarebutcharlatanspuppetingthecadaverousremainsofa tyrantyoubarelyunderstand.His tyrannicalspiritburnson inbrothersbraveenoughtoprosecutethecoldcomplexitiesofhiswill.’‘Andyouareoneofthosebrothers?’‘Iam,’Occamseethedacrossthealtar.‘Hewilldeliverthepromisedempire–adominionhumanitycanbeproudtocallitsown–butforsuchanImperiumtoexist,boththetaintedmeatofthebodyImperialandtheuselessfatmustbecutaway.Theweak and faithful of thegalaxy are just asmuchan impediment tosuchanoutcomeasthepowerfulandtraitorous.’‘And that is what you intend to do?’ Perdita asked the Alpha Legion strikemaster.‘Wieldthatknifeandcutawaythetaintedandfeeble?’‘IntheEmperor’sname,yes,’Occamtoldher.‘Evenwithouttheaidofyourlegionaryallies?’OccamgavePerditasnakeeyes.Hislipcurledintoaslowsnarl.‘A small blade can do a lot of damage,’Occam said, ‘if you knowwhere tostrike.AnyAssassinwouldbeabletotellyouthat.’Whenthestrikemastersprang,MinaPerditawasexpectingit.Itdidn’thelpher.NeitherdidherAssassin’sreflexesortempletraining.Shewasslowerthanshemight have been. Unsure of when to break character. Waiting until Occamconfirmedhissuspicionswithviolentconviction.Hisarmshotoutandgrabbedherbythescruffofherrobes,hisfistlikeaviceofboneandmuscle.OccamtheUntrueliftedheroffherfeetandslammedherdownonthesurfaceofthealtarwithmercilessforce.Holdingherwithonehand,hepushedtheotherinto her robes. Perdita kicked, hit and thrashed in the Space Marine’s grip,attemptingaseriesoflocks,holdsanddefensivemanoeuvres,asdictatedbyhertraining.Eachhaditsownlethalfollow-up,butfightthoughtheAssassinmight,shecouldn’tgetanytostickonthedemigod.Running his hand through the robes, Occam found the blade Perdita hadsecreted there – aweapon she had surreptitiously picked up from the practicecages.AsOccampulleditfromtheragsandheldthevenom-slickbladeaboveher,Perditafellstillinhisgrasp.‘Isthisforme,Assassin?’heputtoher.Hegesturedtohisownfeatures.‘YouthinkIdon’tknowafalsefacewhenIseeit?Haveyoucometofinishwhatyoustarted?TheAngelbaneisdead.AreyouhereensuringthatIdon’t takeuphismantle?’

‘No,’Perditainsisted,‘athousandtimes,no.Idon’texpectyoutobelieveme,mylord,butitremainsthetruth.’Occampeeredintohereyesbeforehisfacecreasedwithangerandfrustration.Heslammedheragainstthesurfaceofthealtarbeforeliftingheroffandpitchingheracrossthechapelchamber.Usuallyacreatureofprecisionandgrace,Perditatriedtoregainherbalancebutbythetimeshegotherfeettothefloor,herfacewasflyingintothestonewall.Getting up, she felt the warmth of blood down the side of her face. It wasseepingfromagashonherhead.Sheturnedandputherbackagainstthewall.As she did she heard the clang of metal against the flags of the floor. LordOccamhadtossedtheenvenomedbladedownatherfeet.‘You’re right,’ the strikemaster said. ‘Idon’tbelieveyou.Takeyourweaponanddowhatyoucameheretodo.YouhavebeenagoodservanttotheLegion.I’llkillyouquickly.Ioweyouthatmuch.’Perditakickedthebladeaway,sendingitskiddingnoisilyacrosstheflagsandoutofthechapelarchway.‘Iswear,’Perditasaid,‘bytheEmperor,onsomeserpentshrineortotheDarkGods – I amnot here to harmyou. I amPerdita.Your agent.Your operative.YourbladetostripthecarcassImperiumofthefeebleandthedamned.’‘Thenwhat are you doing here, Assassin,’ Occam put to her, ‘in the privatechambers of a renegade who needs little reason to end you? Consider youranswercarefully.Itmaywellbeyourlast.’MinaPerditalickedherlips.‘Ithoughtmyselfaccomplished,’shesaid,‘whenIfirstinfiltratedtheSonsoftheHydra.IhavelearnedalotfromyouandyourLegion.LikeallintheAlphaLegion, Iwanted toknow.Iwanted tounderstandandI’lladmit– tousesuchknowledgetomyadvantage.AgreatdealchangedaboveVitreaMundi.Somuchdependsuponwhatyoudecide. I’mnotashamed toadmit that Iwould like toknowwhathappensnext.ThatiswhyItriedtodeceiveyou.Onewayoranother,Iassureyouthat itwon’thappenagain.I justwantedtoknowthemindof themanwhoholdsmyfateinhishands.’TheAlphaLegionstrikemasterstaredattheAssassin,thesnarlcontortinghisfacefading.‘WhenIamreadytosharemymindwithyou,’OccamtheUntruesaid,‘withtheSeventhSonsormylegionarybrothers,youwillknowaboutit.Nowgetoutofmysightandfrequentthesechambersnomore.’

ζSNAKEOIL

‘Isthereaproblem?’ametallicvoiceproceededfromthedarkness.AsMinaPerditalefthischambers,Occamlookeddownatthepartialimprintofthe Emperor’s boot set in the surface of the altar. Following in theMaster ofMankind’sfootstepswasprovingdifficultindeed.ThesonsofGuilliman.Renegademadmen.Thecorrupted.DevoutservantsoftheEmperor.AllwereoutforOccam’sblood.Nowhisownoperativesseemedtobestalkinghimandxenosabominationsweretryingtogethimkilled.‘Asshesaid,’Occamanswered,‘theAlphaLegionteachesitsoperativestobecuriousandtotaketheinitiative.’ThehunchedfigureofOmizharVohkventuredforthfromtheshadowsof thechapel.HegaveOccamthesickeninggreenglareofhissingleoptic.‘Youarefortunate,fleshling,thatshedidn’ttaketheinitiativeearlierwiththatblade,’thexenosadvisorsaid.‘You overestimate her as you underestimate me, monster,’ Occam told him,leaving the chapel and crossing the chamber. ‘Youhaveyour predictions.TheLegionhas itsgames, its tricksanddeceptions.Shedidwell togetascloseasshedid,allthingsconsidered.TheLegioncanusesuchskillandaudacity.’Thexenoscreaturehungbackanddugatthecrumblingstoneofthechapelwithitsmetalclaws.‘It is interesting,’ Vohk said, ‘the fleshling preoccupation with stone.Everywhereyougoyoufeeltheneedtoerectyourfalsetemplesandtinytombs.Perhapswearenotsodifferent,youandI.Theworldsofmypeoplearesimilarlydominatedbysuchbuildings–albeitonamuchgranderscale.Perhapsoneday,Ishallgettheopportunitytoshowyousuchwonders.’‘Perhapsoneday,abomination,you’llgettothepoint.’AsOccamturnedandsatbackinhisthrone,thelegionnaireheardthemetallic

thunkofthealien’sfootstepsfollowinghimacrossthedeck.‘Iunderstand,fleshling,’Vohksaid.‘Inalifeasshortasyours,Iappreciatethatyouhavelittlepatienceforsuchdelays.Iapologise.Yousee,allIhaveistime.Timeandwhatittellsme.’‘It’s theonly reasonyou are alive tohaunt the corridorsofmy ship,’Occamtold the alien. ‘You like tombs? Ifyoupull something like that again,youareassuredtoseetheinsideofone.’‘Isavedyourlife,’thealientaunted.‘Thatisyettobeseen,’Occamtoldhim.‘Now,asyouweresaying,monster.’‘Ah, yes.Beforewewere rudely interrupted,’Vohk said, standing beside thethrone like a dutiful advisor. ‘I served as advisor to Quetzel Carthach – suchcolourfulnamesyouhave.’‘Beforeyouhadmedropamagmabombwarheadonhim,’Occaminterjected,‘thenecessityofwhichyouwillalsoexplaintome.’‘WhereIcomefrom,fleshling,’Vohksaid,‘Iamcalledmanythings.’‘Idon’tdoubtit.’‘Astraturge,’Vohkcontinued.‘Stellasayer.Chronomancer. I readthestarsandharness their gravitational governance of the past, present and future. LordCarthachbenefittedfrommytalentsinexterminatingthesonsofthewarlordyoucall Guilliman – in that, the objectives of the Angelbane and my masteroverlapped.’‘Yourmaster?’‘Weallhavemasters,fleshling,dowenot?’‘Idon’t.’‘Youdo,’VohkassuredOccam,‘you justdon’tknowityet. I foresawfor theAngelbane – furthermadness, obsession and the persecution of brother SpaceMarines.’‘So you thought you would help such insanity along,’ Occam said with abalefulgaze.‘Indeed,fleshling,’Vohktoldhim,unfazed.‘Atmyinstigation,youbecamethefocusofsuchobsessionandthebeneficiaryofitstragicoutcome.FornowitistheobjectivesoftheRedactedandmymasterthatoverlap.’‘Until you advise someone to drop amagmabombonme,’ the strikemastersaid.‘IwillnotbelecturedontherarenecessitudeofduplicitybyamemberofyourLegion,’OmizharVohktoldhimevenly.‘Wearebothcreaturesofopportunity,arewenot–andmakeopportunitieswheretheyfailtomaterialise?’

‘Fair enough, abomination,’ Occam said. ‘But tell me this – what are yourmaster’s objectives? Because we no longer have the manpower to challengeAdeptusAstartesChapters–nomatterhowdepletedtheirranksmightbe.Yousawtothat.’‘Mymasterwantssomething.’‘Whatisthisthing?’‘Apieceofalien technology,moreancient thanyourentirespecies,’OmizharVohksaid.‘Most of the best technology is,’ Occam the Untrue agreed. ‘Is this artefactdangerous?’‘Very.’‘Andheneedsthispieceoftechnologylocating?’‘Weknowwhereitcanbefound,’thealienadvisorassuredhim.‘Thenwhy don’t you go fetch it for him, lapdog?’Occam asked. ‘You seempretty adept at ghosting your way into places into which you have not beeninvited.Myshipandchambers,forexample.’‘Theartefactislocatedinaplacewheresuchtechno-sorceryiscompromised.Afleshling is required for this task.Hewants theAlphaLegion to retrieve it forhim.’‘OnlytheLegion?’‘Hetrustsfewotherswithsuchanimportantundertaking.’‘WhynotsendCarthach?’Occamputtohim.‘TheAngelbane’sapproachwouldhavebeen…unproductive,’Vohktoldhim.‘This undertaking requires a light touch and the sensibilities of a thief, not abutcher.’‘Iamnothief,xenos.’‘Ibegtodiffer,’Vohksaid.‘Everythingaboutyouisstolen,fromyourshipandplatetoyourfaceandyourpurpose.’Occamgrunted.‘Isyourmaster toopolite togoandrecover thispieceof technologyhimself?WhydoesheneedtheRedacted?’thestrikemasterasked.‘The Lord Dominatus issues orders and the Alpha Legion follow them,’OmizharVohktoldhim.‘Whatdidyoujustsay?’Occamsaid,risingoutofhisthrone.‘IseethatIhaveyourattention,’theabominationobserved.‘TheLordDominatus?’‘Mymaster,’Vohksaid,‘andyours.’

‘YouworkforamemberoftheLegion?’Occamasked,turninghisheadtoonesidetopeerintothedarkhoodofthealienmachine.‘QuetzelCarthachisnottheonlyarch-lordoftheAlphaLegiontogatheryourdark brotherhood under his banner,’ Vohk said. ‘As emissary of the LordDominatus, I engaged the Angelbane and the Sons of the Hydra – as I havemanyAlphaLegioncells,warbandsandlonelegionnaires.SinceyoubelongedtotheSonsoftheHydraalso,itcouldbearguedthatyouarealreadyengagedinmymaster’sservice.’‘The destruction ofAdeptusAstartesChapters,’Occam said, ‘the retrieval ofartefacts,thegatheringoflegionnaires–whatdoesthisLordDominatuswant?’‘Agreatmanythings,’Vohksaid,‘oneofwhichisforyoutobeaLegionagain.Asingle,unifiedfightingforce,ratherthanascatterednetworkofterrorgroups,allwagingyourownwarsforyourownreasons.TheLordDominatusbelievesthat theLegioncanonceagainbemore than the sumof itsparts– that it canonceagainplayitspartinthedestinyofthegalaxy.’‘Whoishe?’Occamdemanded.‘His identity isnotmine todivulge,’ thexenosadvisor said. ‘What I can tellyou,OccamtheUntrue,isthatyouandhearethesame.’‘Whatdoesthatmean?’‘Itmeans,thatyouarebothbelievers,’Vohksaid.‘Thatdespiteacivilwarthattoreyourempireasunderand ten thousandyearsof taintanddegradation,youbothwearthecoloursoftheLegionandbeneaththembothstillharbourloyaltytothecorpseEmperor.’Occamturnedaway.Hismindwasawhirl.Heabsentlyshookhishead.‘Howisthispossible?’‘Shouldyoupassmymaster’stest,’Vohksaid,‘thenperhapsyoucouldaskhimfacetoface.’‘Test?’Occamsaid.‘Theartefact?’‘It belongs to theLordDominatus,’ the alien said, ‘andhewants it back.HeofferstheRedactedthehonourofreturningittohim.’Occam’s eyes burnedwith questions. His hearts beat with the excitement ofpossibility.TheopportunitytobetrulypartoftheLegionratherthansomecrudeharrowing or attempt at former glories sounded interesting enough. To servewithanarch-lordthatsharedOccam’sobjectives,however,wasanopportunitynottobepassedup.Thestrikemasterfelttheghostlyechoofcautionflutterthroughhischest.Herubbedathis chinwithhis fingers and thumbbefore turningback to thealien

advisor.‘WhyshouldItrustyou?’‘LordCarthachtrustedme,’Vohktoldhim.‘And look where that got him,’ Occam said. ‘One of the greatest renegadewarlordsoftheEasternempire,undonebyasinglelie,utteredfromthemouthofafaithlessxenos.’‘TheLordDominatustrustsme,’OmizharVohksaid.‘Whydoeshetrustyou?’‘Youmightnotknowthis,fleshling,’thealiensaid,‘buttheAlphaLegionhasalongtraditionofworkingwithxenosinterestsforcommonaims.I’mnottalkingabout mercenaries, alien cultists and indentured wretches. I’m talking aboutlong-term strategic cooperation between xenos collectives and the leaders ofyourLegion.’‘Leaders?’Occamsaid.‘Youmeantheprimarch?’‘Imeantheprimarchs…’While keeping his eyes on Vohk’s optic, Occam began to stalk around themachine. Before joining the secretive ranks of the Alpha Legion, Occam hadspent years in the Reclusiam, librarium and forbidden archives studying theirvictories,theirmethodsandhistory.Asanoutsidertothebrotherhood–anon-genic legionnaire–hepridedhimselfonunderstandingmoreabout theLegionthan most. Amongst warped warlords, lost to the Chaos gods and maniacsdevoted to the anarchic destruction of the Imperium, Occam was a veritableexpertonlegionarycultureandpastglories.The strikemasterwas shocked by the depth of the alien’s knowledge of theLegion’smostintimatesecrets.DuringOccam’sresearcheshehadporedthroughcontradictoryaccountsofsplitloyaltieswithintheAlphaLegion,datingbacktothegreat betrayalsof theHorusHeresy and evenpossibly further.TherewereghostsofrumoursconcerningAlphaLegioninvolvementwithclandestinealiengroupswhosharedtheirobjectives.ThefactthatconvincedOccamtheconceptofcollaboratingwithVohkandhismasterwas trulyworth entertainingwas the revelation of the twin primarchs.Two primarchs: one soul in two bodies – neither of whom had been seen inmillennia.Sightingsof thepair, likeregularreportsof theirdeaths,hadlargelybeen regarded as legend. It had been variously reported that Alpharius, thefigureheadfatheroftheLegion,hadlosthislifeatthehandsofbothRogalDornandRobouteGuillimanoftheUltramarines–bothofwhich,ifeither,couldnotbe truth. Quetzel Carthach, like many legionary lords, claimed to have been

therethedaytheprimarchfellbutsuchincidentshadlittle,ifany,basisinfact.Similarly, in a propaganda war perpetuated by Imperial authorities, the entireAlphaLegion–primarchandall–hadbeenerroneouslydeclareddestroyedatleastthreetimesbytheHighLordsofTerra.‘Abomination,’Occamsaidslowly.‘Tellme,istheLordDominatus–’‘Fleshling,’OmizharVohksaid. ‘Youareamemberof theLegion.Youknowbetter than toaskquestions, theanswers towhich I cannotgive.Pass the test.BringtheLordDominatuswhathedesiresandI’msurethathewillprovidetheanswertoallofyourquestions.’‘Hehadbetter,’Occamsaid.‘Thenwehaveanaccord?’thealienadvisorsaid.‘Alegionarycompact.’‘WiththeLordDominatus,’Occamsaid.‘Notwithyou,faithlessxenos.’‘Agreed.’‘Nowtellme,’Occamsaid.‘Whatisthisartefactandwherecanwefindit?’‘Iwill not embarrass us both by trying to describe it to you,’OmizharVohksaid.‘Itmusthaveabasicfunction.’‘In terms you might understand,’ Vohk said, ‘it is a containment fieldgenerator.’‘Doesthisthinghaveaname?’‘TheTesseraqt.’‘And where can I find this ancient piece of xenos technology?’ Occam theUntrueasked.‘That’s simple,’ Omizhar Vohk said. ‘The Tesseraqt currently resides on thedaemonworldofGhalmek…intheMaelstrom.’

ηONCEBITTEN

The Crozier Worlds. Lord Occam stood on the bridge of the Iota-Æternus,staringout into thevoid.Having left thecloakedconfinesof theKraalNebulaand the devastation ofVitreaMundi long behind, the strikemaster hadNaga-Khanmakeforacradleofstarsystemslinkedbyawebofbusytraderoutesandpilgrimtrains.TheChogorisian shipmasterhadcautionarywords forOccam, remindinghimthattheregionhousedthecapitalworldofthesub-sector,wasdenselypopulatedandservedasoperationalhubfortheAdeptusMinistoruminthearea.Occam appreciated that from the shipmaster’s point of view, having been amutineer,privateerandpirate,itwasafoolishdestination.Withtheworldsoftheimportant Badab system and coreward sectors still ablaze from the Tyrant’srebellion and Quetzel Carthach snuffing out home worlds belonging to thesuccessorsonsalongtherimwardborderoftheMaelstrom,thepresenceoftheAdeptusAstarteswasseverelydepletedinthegalacticregion.Addedtothatwasthe massive reassignment of regimental forces and sector fleet assets of theImperial Navy in recent months. Such forces had joined the Astral Fists, theAngels Eradicant and the Black Templars as part of a battlegroup initially tocombattheaggressiveexpansionoftheOverfiendofOctarius.Thecrusadeforcehad then been diverted to halt the progress of splinter fleets peeling off fromHiveFleetLeviathanandrisingupthroughthegalacticplane.As Naga-Khan had insisted to the strikemaster, thismeant there were hugeswathes of Imperial space in the rimward sectors going largely undefended.Frigates now patrolled where Imperial Navy battleships kept the peace.Following theexodusof regiments in thearea like thePharaghastHiveRifles,theValhallansandDarsinePatricians,regionalsecuritywaslargelyinthehandsof penal legions and the relatively inexperienced and poorly equipped local

militia. Even the forge strongholds of the AdeptusMechanicus, like Brontal-Maxima,TanthraxandtheArxworlds–highlyfortifiedinthemselvesbutwithno remit for sub-sector defence – had lost their Titan Legions to combat thetyranids.WhenNaga-KhanhadtoldOccamthattherehadneverbeenabettertimetobea pirate or renegade warlord in the area, the strikemaster had agreed. AlphaLegion,liketheSonsoftheHydra,hadnotbeentheonlyonestopounceontheopportunity. Huron Blackheart’s Red Corsairs were running riot across theregion.ThemutanthordesoftheMénagewerestrikingoutfromChimericaonthe fringes of the Maelstrom. The activity of eldar raiders in the region hadintensified while daemon ships of the Word Bearers visited the darkrighteousnessoforbitaljudgementonthefaithfuloftheImperium.Itperplexedtheshipmaster,therefore,thatLordOccamhadhimnavigatingthecrowdedsystemsoftheCrozierWorlds.SeveraltimestheQ-shiphadalmostrunafoulofcardinalworldmonitorsandAdeptusMinistorumsystemships.WhenchallengedoverthecardinalworldofStClements,Naga-KhanhadtransmittedthatthearmedfreighterwastransportingpilgrimstoInviolata-Proctor.This explanation, and the sub-light blizzard of other pilgrim ships movingbetweenworldsandsystemsoftheCrozierCradle,hadmeanttheIota-Æternushad been sent on its way, only to almost collide with a sleek unregisteredcorvettethattheshipmastersuspectedbelongedtotheHolyOrdos.Ittooseemedintentonreachingitsdestinationandwentswiftlyonitsway.Thiswas one of themany reasons thatOccamemployed the privateer as hisshipmaster. Naga-Khan was calm in a spot. In all the time the Redacted hademployedhisservices,theshiphadneverbeenboardedonce.Ithadcomeclosethe time a heavy cruiser of the Imperial Navy and its accompanying pirate-hunter squadron of frigatesmistook the Iota-Æternus for a corsair. The pirateship had been terrorising merchant shipping between the nebulous Pillars ofHeaven. As a case of mistaken identity, Occam could hardly lay that at theshipmaster’s door. As ever, Naga-Khan had kept his cool and navigated hisvesselthroughthetrouble.If theQ-shipwas ever boarded and searched,Occamwas confident that thelegionnaires of the Redacted could evade detection and capture. Operativescould assume roles in the deception. Identica, paperwork and logs weremaintained to keep up the illusion that the Iota-Æternuswas one of a billionunremarkable transports plying their trade about the Imperium. The SeventhSonsmight even be able to pass for pilgrims. TheQ-ship’s hiddenweaponry,

however, and its enginarium – customised using xenos technology – wereanothermatterentirely.‘Anything?’LordOccamasked.Naga-Khanmovedalongtherunebanks,checkinginwithcultistsandservitors.‘Novox-chatter,’theshipmastersaid,‘noaugurreturns.Looksgood.’‘Quoda?’Thesorcerercameforthfromhissmallchoirofastropaths.‘Nolong-rangecommunications,’heconfirmed,‘asfaraswecandetect.’‘Givemeapict-angleontheplanet,’Occamordered.Withinmoments,severalof thelancetscreenssizzledtoanexteriorpict-feed.Beforethegatheredoperatives,cultistsandlegionnairesoftheRedactedonthebridgewasaheavilyforestedworld,thecontinentsofwhichwerechokedwiththevariegatedfoliageofcolossaltrees.Beyond,thecrewcouldseethesunburstsmirchofthedistantMaelstrom.‘Mylord?’anuncertainEphronHasdrubalasked.‘You are looking at the fruits of your labours, sergeant,’ Occam told him.‘Intelligence gathered by Blatch and Perdita on Saint Clements, from thepenitentstheybroughtyouandyourinterrogationofthem,hasledushere.’‘Andhereis?’‘Sub-sector Trinitus – spinward crook of the Crozier Cradle,’ Naga-Khaninterjected.‘Specifically the forestworld ofNemesis Spectra,’Occam told him. ‘MostlyTitanwood barrens and shallow seas – all but uninhabited, bar a few isolatedabhumanpopulations.’‘Sowhatarewedoinghere?’thesergeantasked.‘Givemeaclose-uponquadrantforty-foureast,onehundredandtwelvenorth,’Occamsaid.As thepict-imagebegan to formulate,headded, ‘Centreandpullback.’As the bridge was flushed with the seasonal greens, browns and blues of aclose-up on the canopy expanse, a colossal tract of deforestation and damagewas revealed. Black streaks of hazy devastation. Clustered patterns of cratersacrossleaguesofprimordialwoodland,focusedaroundahugeholeinboththeforestvastnessandthecrustoftheplanetsurface.‘Opinions?’LordOccamasked.‘IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,’Hasdrubalsaid,‘I’dsaythatwastheworkoftheLegionesAstartes.’‘From the collateral damage,’ Arkan Reznor said, the warpseer giving his

professional assessment, ‘the pattern and spatial distribution, I’d saywewerelookingatanorbitalstrikefromacapitalship.Agrandcruiser–perhapsevenabattleship. The bombardment was very targeted. Insistent, also. The primarycratermustbedeep,theresultofconsecutivestrikes.’‘We’ve seen this before,’ said Sergeant Hasdrubal. ‘On the Canticula shrineworld.’‘WordBearers?’saidCarcinusQuoda.‘Theyhavebeengettingincreasinglyadventurous,’LordOccamsaid.‘Sendingoutdemi-Chapters,warbandsandplanet-smashingbattleshipsfromtheirdaemonforge.’‘Surelywearenotdesperateenough topickat the leftoversofsuchdaemon-worshippersandfanatics,’Hasdrubalsaid.‘Fanaticshavetheiruses,’LordOccamsaid,‘asourLegionwellknows.Thisstrike, as well as those on Canticula and the archive worlds of the ZosimaCrucizoid is the work of theDissolutio Perpetua, a daemon ship out of theGhalmek forgeworld. Big. Ancient. Afflicted. She’s been sighted smashing apath through theCrozierWorlds.AsconfirmedbyPerdita’s investigationsandyourowninterrogations,sergeant–hertourofdestructiontookherhere,whereshedumpedherordnanceuponBastion-Conundra.’‘Whichis?’SergeantHasdrubalprobed.‘We have been searching for Conundra on and off for years,’ the sorcererQuoda said. ‘A secret Inquisitorial fortress-repository, containing countlessbannedartefactsofxenosandcursedorigin.’‘AndtheWordBearersbeatustoit,’LordOccamsaid,‘whichdoesn’treflectwellontheLegion.’‘Theartefactwe’relookingfor,’Hasdrubalsaid,pointingtothelancetscreen,‘wasdownthere?’‘Yes.’‘Sowe’retoolate.’‘You can tell,’ Arkan Reznor indicated, ‘the ordo’s real high-securityinstallations from just their barracks and processing facilities. Many areundergroundandeventhen,thefirsttwentylevelsorsoareafortifiedfront.I’dsaythat theorbitalbombardmentprobablytookcareof them,openingthewayforaWordBearersraidonthemaximumsecurityrepositorybelow.’‘Perdita,’Occamindicated.TheAssassinretainedherownappearance,whichpleasedthestrikemasterafter theconflict inhisquarters.Herheadwasclean-shaven and serpentine tattoos slithered down the side of her face. The Alpha

Legionoperativewasleaningagainstthehololithicprojectionplateandnowgottoherfeet.‘TheHighSerpentand I infiltrated thechambersof thecharteredcaptainsonSaint Clements,’ she told the gathering. ‘Themerchant fleets operating in thearea largely have responsibility for running the pilgrim trains or transportingvictualsbetween the agriworldsofProvendaArcturo and theCrozierWorlds.Someare retained for thepersonaluseof thecardinalsastraanddioceses.Wegathered intelligence from a number of shipmasters and fleet operators whoclaimed that their vessels had been urgently reassigned by their sponsors andsent into restricted space in Sub-Sector Trinitus. Some of the loose-lippedcaptainsrevealedthattheirserviceshavebeencommandeeredbythelordoftheHolyOrdosforthetransportationofhigh-securitycargoesoffNemesisSpectra.’‘Wheredidtheytransportsuchcargoesto?’Quodaputtoher.‘That’sthequestion,’Occamtoldhim,pointingatthesorcerer.‘The consignments received Inquisitorial escorts and the flotillas wereshadowedbyreserveNavycruisersbrought in fromthesectorbaseatStrontiaPrimis,’Perditasaid. ‘Theydelivered theircargo toasmall, uninhabitedworldtwosystemsaway.’‘Tellmeyouhavethelocation,’Quodasaid.‘Theagriworldfreighterswereforcedtooffloadtheircargoesattheedgeofthesystem,’theAssassintoldhim.‘Whichprobablysavedtheirlives,’SergeantHasdrubalinterjected.‘Iftheyhadborne witness to the destination, the Inquisition would likely have had themexecuted.Thelocallordoftheordomusthaveanagreementwiththecardinals.’‘OnecuriouscaptaintoldmehesawvesselsofMartianregistrationleavingthesystem,’Perditasaid,‘fromitsouterregion.’‘Mechanicusarkfreighters,’Reznor said, ‘probably transportingheavyminingequipmentfortheexcavationofatemporaryinstallation.’‘Warpsmith?’ Lord Occam said, as Reznor moved across to a navigationsrunebank.‘Theouterregionsboast threeworlds,’he toldOccam.‘Twogasgiantsandarocky dwarf planet recognised by the AdeptusMinistorum as a minor shrineworld.’‘It won’t be there,’ the strike master said. ‘The Inquisition won’t want theattention.Dothegasgiantshavemoons?’‘Only one large enough to sustain atmospherics and workable gravity for atemporaryinstallation,’Reznorsaid,scanningthroughthedataflashingupfrom

therunescreen.‘Fifty-Four-Thermia.Uninhabited.’‘So this xenos artefact,’ Sergeant Hasdrubal said, ‘this Tesseraqt, has beentransportedthere?’‘No,’ Occam said. The answer drew furrowed brows from the gatheredlegionnaires. ‘The Tesseraqt is gone. Intelligence I have from another sourceconfirms that itwas amongst the artefacts theWordBearerspillaged from therepositoryonNemesisSpectraduringtheirraid.’‘So why aren’t we running down the Dissolutio Perpetua?’ Arkan Reznorasked.‘Becausethedaemonship,’ thesorcererQuodasaid,beginningtounderstand,‘itsmissioncomplete,hasreturnedtoGhalmekwithitsprize.’‘Thentheartefactislost,’thesergeantsaid.‘Perhapsnot,’LordOccamtoldhim.‘Youwant tomake a suicidal run into riftspace,’Hasdrubal said, ‘and raid adaemonworldcrawlingwithWordBearersandentitiesforanartefactweknownexttonothingabout?’‘No, brother,’Occam assured his sergeant. ‘I do not.Your assessment of thedangersandthelikelihoodofmissionsuccessisanaccurateone.’‘Thenwhatarewedoinghere,mylord?’‘Perdita?’Occamprompted.‘The merchant captains confirmed that along with the freight transportedoffworldfromNemesisSpectra,oneshipmentcontainedprisoners,’theAssassinsaid.‘TheinstallationonNemesisSpectrawasarepository,’ArkanReznoradded.‘Yes,’Occamsaid. ‘Itwasnotoutfittedforprisoners.TheWord Bearers’ raidmight have been successful but as the freight shipments prove, they wereunsuccessfulintakingtheinstallation.ItseemsthatsomeoftheirnumberweretakenbyInquisitorial forcesandabandonedby the DissolutioPerpetua.ThoseprisonershavebeenmovedtothisnewfacilityonFifty-Four-Thermiawiththetransportedartefacts.Theordolordsareonthebackfoot.Theyareunprepared,astheirtemporaryinstallationis,forasecondattack.Weshallcapitaliseontheirweakness and free these Word Bearers prisoners. They shall be the key tounlockingthesecretsofGhalmek,astheTesseraqtwillbethekeytofindingtheLordDominatus–anAlphaLegionnairewithwhom theRedacted’sdestiny isintertwined.’Occam looked around the bridge. Operatives like Naga-Khan and the HighSerpentknewbetterthantoofferanychallengetotheirAlphaLegionoverlord.

Malik and Phex, for their own different reasons, seemed uninterested in themission’s details. Both were more at home in the execution of such details.Quodaandthewarpsmithknewtheextremedangersinherentinwhattheirstrikemaster was proposing but Occam knew that both desired entry to theInquisitorial repository, with its treasure trove of heretical technologies anddamned artefacts. Only Ephron Hasdrubal seemed to hold any doubts but assergeantoftheRedactedandsecondtoOccam’scommand,hedidnotadvertisethembeyondthemostnecessaryofquestions.‘Asyouwish,mylord,’thesergeantsaid.‘Nowtellthemthebadnews,’thestrikemastersaidtoMinaPerdita.‘Several freighters were already carrying assignments when they arrived atNemesisSpectra,whichweretakenonwiththecargoandprisoners.’‘Whatweretheycarrying?’Hasdrubalasked.‘AdetachmentofBattleSistersfromtheCitadel-PreceptoryonSanSacrista.’Thesergeantgrunted.‘ThenIhopetheyarereadytodieforwhattheybelievein.’‘Shipmaster,’ LordOccam commanded, ‘makeway. Iwant a sub-light speedapproachtothesystemwithconcealedweaponryprimed.’‘Will you be requiring the Seventh Sons, my lord?’ Freydor Blatch asked.OccamlookedtoArkanReznor.‘It’stoocoldonthesurface,’thewarpsmithtoldhim.‘Assisttheshipmaster,’Occamordered.‘Isuspectthatitistoosoontoexpectaugurstationsandmonitoringplatforms.Perdita’scontactsreportedtwobattle-scarredInquisitorialcorvettesassistinginfreighterescortduty.TheymusthavesurvivedtheirencounterwiththeDissolutioPerpetua,withoneorperhapsbothholdingsomekindofclandestinestationinthesystem.TheIota-ÆternuswillbereadyforsuchresistanceandifrequiredtheSeventhSonswillassistinmanningthegundecksandrepellingboarders.Perdita,youtoo.TheRedactedwillhandlethismission–alone.’

θCOLDBLOODED

Itwasdark.Occam’sopticscycledthroughdifferentvisualspectra.Astheydidso the strikemasterwas treated to avisionof54-Thermia’s frozendesolation.The Inquisitorial base was located on the night side of the planet but thedarkness was intensified further by the black ice and snow that covered theplanetoid’ssurface.Occam trudged through the lightlessoblivion,hisplateworkinghard to fightoffthesub-zerobitterness.PrimordialwindshowledacrosstheicyplateauxandthroughthevalleysofstuntedblackmountainsthatroseupabouttheRedacted.With their camo-cloaks and the scales of their armoured suits matching thedarkness, the Alpha Legionnairesmade their slow progress through the blacksnow,thestormandthedesolation.Progresshadbeenequallycautiousintothesystem.Naga-KhanhadbroughttheIota-Æternus up through the shadow space created by the dark side of thesystem’scolossalgasgiants.Hehadexpertlypicked theQ-ship’spath throughsystemsof rings,debris fieldsandmoonlets,all thewhileusing the freighter’senhanced long-range augurs to feel out vessels in the crowded region beforesuchcraftdetected them.Occamhadbeen impressedwithboth theshipmasterandArkanReznor’sxenosmodifications, as the augurspickedout theghostlypresenceofanInquisitorialcorvetteboasting itsownadvancedtechnologies intheformofscanner-resistanthullplating.Essentiallycloaked,theordocorvettewasstationedwithinthecolossalcraterofashatteredmoon.Hidingwithintheimpact site of a collision that had long ago destroyed the moonlet, the shipseemedtowaitlikesomepredatoryfishonareef.Avoiding the Inquisitorialvessel, theQ-ship similarly concealed itself amongthesmashedbodiesof thedebrisfield.Maskedbyregular meteoriteactivity intheregion,shallowdescentsandimpactsontheiceworld,theSerpent’sEggfell

towards the surfaceof54-Thermia.Exiting theDreadclawsomedistance fromthe unmaskable heat signatures of the Inquisition repository, the AlphaLegionnairesmadetheirapproachonfoot.VilniusMalikandthewarpmasterReznorwereoutinfront.Malikwasutilisinghisexcellentnightvisiontofollowfrozentracksheroutinelyuncoveredbeneatha layer of fresh snow. The compacted tracks crunched beneath his armouredfootfalls,whileReznorscannedfordevices thatmightgivethepresenceof therenegadesaway.‘Ihavenothing,’hereportedbacktoOccamovertheencodedsuitvox-channel.‘Noaugurs,motiondetectorsortripbeams.Noevidenceofminefieldseither.’‘Perhaps it’s too soon,’Occam voxed back. ‘Perhaps the installation ismoretemporary than even we suspect, with resources going to another permanentfacilitybeingpreparedelsewhere.Eitherway,thisisgoodforus.’‘They’rerelyingonpatrols,’Malikadded,kickingatthefrozentracksbeneaththesoftblacknessbeingdepositedby theblizzard. ‘Vehiclespass throughhereregularlyontheirwaybacktobase.’‘Howlong?’‘Bythedepthoftheimprint,’Maliksaid,‘everythreeorsohours.’‘Vehicles?’‘SomethingmodelledonaRhinochassis,’theformerNightLordtoldhim.ThelegionnairesoftheRedactedallturnedtheirhelmsastheyheardsomethingthrough thenoiseof thestorm.Thehauntingshriekhadamournfulquality,asthoughsomethinglargeandnot toodistantwassufferingout inthestormwiththerenegades.‘Shouldweget off this trail?’SergeantHasdrubal asked, trudgingupbehind.Tearinghisgazefromthedirectionofthesoundhelookedbackalongthepathofthefrozentracks.‘No,’Occamsaid, thoughtfully.Hereachedout towardsAutoliconPhex,whoknewthegesturewell.Unclippingameltabombfromhisbelt,Phexhandedthegrenadetothestrikemaster.‘Weshoulddefinitelysticktothetrail.’

SisterSuperiorInviolettarodeouttherollingmotionofthePyra-Sanctora.TheImmolator was a relic-vehicle of the Order of the August Vigil. A trackedtransport, sections of its thick platingwere carved into bas-relief and shallowrepresentationsoftheEmperor’sgreatdeeds.Itsdozerbladeclearedblacksnowfrom its path, while banners of the Orders Pronatus trailed behind it in theblizzardgale.AstheImmolator’sengineplantgrowled,pushingthetransporton

through the frozen landscape, fire drizzled from the burnished barrels of itsturret-mountedheavyflamers.‘Ihaveafaintreturn,SisterSuperior,’SisterEuphemesaid,herbreathmistingon the gelid air of the compartment. She sat in the driver’s nest of gears andflickeringrunescreens.Inviolettaleantin,herbrutallyshavedscalpbrushingupagainst the driver’s own. Their bone-white plate lightly clattered. In the dullreflectionof thescratchedscreen, Invioletta saw theglintof thestaplesacrosshermissingrighteye.Shetookintheghostlyaugurreading.Squintingintothestorm with her single eye, the Sister Superior peered through the slit of theviewport.‘Probably some creature indigenous to this ice ball,’ the Battle Sister said.‘Ursula.’Sister Ursula came forward from the rear of the compartment, leaving threeotherarmouredSisters.TheSistersDominioncradledunprimedflamersintheirwhitegauntlets.Slidingherhelmetdownoverhershavedskull,Ursulapoppedthetophatchandadmittedthehowlingstorm.‘Fullstop!’Inviolettacalledoutasahulkingshape,darkerthanthesurroundingoblivion, filled the viewport. SisterEuphemehauled at the Immolator’s gears,back-thrashing the tracks. Inviolettasaw that theSisterwasstrugglingand feltthetransportdriftontheice.Ursulawasalmostthrownforwardbytheforcebutmanagedtoholdontotheopenhatchanddriver’scradle.‘Target,’Inviolettacalledout,pullingonherownwhitehelm.SheslappedhergauntletagainsttheImmolator’ssidedoorandthrewitopen,allowingtheotherthreeSistersDominiontoexitthevehicle.Thecompartmentwasfilledwiththehissandwelcomewarmthofflamerprimers,tobealmostimmediatelylostintheroaroftheicystorm.The Sister Superior followed them, resting her gauntlet on the Inferno pistolsitting in her fur-lined belt holster. Outside, her armoured boots squelchedthroughslush.Lookingupshesaw theshapeofa largexenoscreature,oneof54-Thermia’s wasteland predators. Larger than the Immolator, the smallmountainofshaggy,barbedfurstooditsground,allyellowingclawsandicicle-linedtusks.TheInquisitionforcesontheiceworldhadencounteredseveralsuchcreatures, one having found its way into the carved caverns of the ordoinstallation seeking shelter. Squaring up to a Sentinel powerlifter, which hadbeenmovingcratesofclassifiedcargo,thebeasthadkilledthewalker’screw.AfterithadbeenputdownbyInvioletta’ssquadofSisterDominions,PalatineSophiricaandthelordinquisitor’shighexplicator–Inigo Valdex–orderedall

suchmonstrositiesdestroyediffoundwithinthebaseperimeter.‘Purge,’theSisterSuperiorcommanded.Thewastelandgloomwassuddenlylitupbytwofatstreamsofsputteringpromethium.Alightandgutteringagainsttheforce of the surrounding storm, the streams coated the shaggy monster withstickyfuelandwrithingflame.Spreadingoutaboutthealienpredator,theSistersoftheAugustVigilunleashedtheirflamersandhit thebeastintheflankswiththeirownswirlingstreamsoffierydeath.‘Cease,’ Invioletta called across her suit vox, ‘and save your holy fuel. Thebeastburns.LettheEmperor’slighttakeit.’The Battle Sisters stood there for the time it took the inferno to destroy themonster.Strangely,thecreaturedidnotshriekandwaillikeitswaste-wanderingkindred.Instead, itseemedcontent tosit thereandburnuntil thestormdouseditsblack,smoulderingbones.Takingalonglookaroundher,Inviolettastaredintothedepthsoftheblizzard.The cold was creeping in through her plate and chilling her bones. Finallysatisfied, the Sister Superior directed her Dominions back into the Pyra-Sanctora.AsSisterUrsulaclimbeddownandlockedoffthetophatch,Inviolettalaid a gauntlet on Eupheme’s pauldron and directed the driver on. SisterEupheme gunned the Immolator’s engine. As before, the transport seemed tostruggle.‘Whatisit?’Inviolettademanded.‘I don’t know,’ Sister Eupheme told her. ‘Perhaps we are throwing a track.Hangon,that’sgotit.’The Pyra-Sanctora lurched forward, its tracks biting back into the frozenground.Thevehicle’sdozerbladestruckthescorchedbonesofthealiencadaverblockingtheImmolator’sway,smashingthepyretooneside.‘That’sit,’Euphemeconfirmed.Inviolettathrewafewswitchesontheceilingpanelabovethedriverandpatchedintotheinstallation’sencodedvox-channel.‘Pyra-Sanctora toNemesisbase, respond,’ theSisterSuperiorsaid, thesignalcracklingandwarpingwiththesurroundingstorm.‘Pyra-Sanctoracheckingin.Nemesisbase,respond.’‘Pyra-Sanctora, thisisNemesis,’asizzlingvoicereturnedfinally. ‘Youmissedyourtransmissionwindow.Protocolshavebeeninitiated.’Invioletta’s lip curled behind her faceplate. It was Sister SuperiorAssumpta.SisterAssumpta handled liaison between theAdepta Sororitas and Inquisitionforces at the repository installation. While all Sisters considered themselvesdaughters of the Emperor and equal in His esteem, there were still tensions.

Assumptawas a Sister-Chamberlainwho belonged to theOrder of theVeiledMantle–oneof theOrdersFamulous.TheSistersof theVeiledMantlehad aspecialcarefortheHolyOrdos,Inquisitorialinstallationsandtheordolordswhopresided over them. Fielding for them diplomats and advisors, the SistersFamulous were a point of contact between the clandestine agents of theInquisition,theSisterhoodandothercommandeeredforcesoftheImperium.AsaBattleSister,Invioletta–likePalatineSophirica–didnotenjoytakingordersfromnon-militantssuchasSisterAssumptaandthelordinquisitor’saide,HighExplicatorValdex–especiallyonmattersofsecurity.‘Stand down protocols,’ Invioletta said. ‘Our patrol was delayed by anencounterwithanindigenouslifeform.Thethreathasbeenpurgedandthebaseperimetersecured.’‘SisterSuperior,’Assumptasaidacrossthewarpingchannel,‘pleaseensurethatallreportsaredeliveredinpre-assignedtransmissionwindows.HighExplicatorValdexwillexpectanaudienceuponyourreturn.Nemesisout.’Invioletta grunted, flicked the vox-switch and sat back down in thecompartment.Eupheme turned to say somethingbut Invioletta shookherheadgentlyinresponse.It took another thirtyminutes to reach the installation.Beyond the twinklingblueofarclightsinthestorm,therewaslittletoidentifythesiteasabaseatall.As the Immolator crunched through the old, frozen tracks of hundreds ofprevious patrols, the great rime-coated blast doors of the entrance began torumble aside. Built into a hollow in a low, fat mountain and carved into thedepths of the ice below, Nemesis base was all but hidden. As the transportchurneditswaythroughaccumulatingsnowandintothecavernwithin,anotherImmolator left the base to go out on patrol. Flashing lamps at each other, thetrackedtransportspassed,theblastdoorsclosingbetweenthem,shuttingoutthestorm.Compared to theblackwastesbeyond, thehangarwithinwasahiveofactivity.When the lord inquisitorhad requested reinforcements fromCardinalTrazier,following the renegade attack on the ordo’s secret base on Nemesis Spectra,InviolettaandherpalatinehadbeensentwithonehundredSistersDominiontosecure the temporary facility. As Sisters of the August Vigil, their dutiesincluded securityof shrineworlds and someof theEcclesiarchy’smostprizedartefacts. On 54-Thermia, however, they were tasked with securing a frozenrepository, freshly cut into the ice by Adeptus Mechanicus work crews, andensuring the safe transport and instalment of heretical artefacts.Recovered by

inquisitors and operatives of the Ordo Hereticus, these cursed items – manycorruptedbyChaosandinfusedwithxenospower–hadtobekeptsafefrom -hereticsand renegadeswhomightuse theirpotentialagainst the Imperium.AtleastuntiltherepositoryfortressonLodovicaIVhadbeenrefittedfortheordo’spermanentuse.Aswell as the heretical artefacts and technologies, Invioletta and her SistershadresponsibilityforthesecurityofseveralprisonerswhohadbeencapturedintheattackonNemesisSpectra.Thesewere renegades thatLord InquisitorVanLeeuwen had wanted to interview himself, rather than turn over to anotherinquisitororfacility.HehadinstructedtheAdeptusMechanicusworkcrewstocarve out oubliettes in the frozen bowels of Nemesis base for the expresspurposeofinterrogatingtherenegades,todiscoverwhoitwaswhohadattackedtheOrdoHereticusonNemesisSpectraandwhy.As Eupheme brought thePyra-Sanctora in to a maintenance station next toseveral other armoured transports, Invioletta could see Battle Sisters andInquisitorialstaffgoingabouttheirbusinessthroughtheviewport.Thecavernwallswereiceandrock,whilethecentreofthelargechamberwasdominated by thousands of crates stacked in small mounds, with snow-linedwalkways left in between. Generators struggled in the extreme cold and theceiling lamps above the stacks filled the chamber with a flickering gloom.SistersoftheAugustVigilinwhiteplatepatrolledthechamberinpairs,holdingtheir primed flamers at the ready, while a small army of bonded servants,Mechanicusmagi, priests and servitorsmoved through themassive collection.Thecratescameinvariousshapesandsizes,somenolargerthanajewelleryboxwhileotherswerebiggerthanthePyra-Sanctora.EachcontainedsomedamnedartefactorpieceofalientechnologyconfiscatedbytheOrdoHereticusfromthemanythousandsofrenegadesandhereticstheyhadpersecutedinthesector.Thecrates were stamped with hexagrammic runes and hummed with small stasisfieldgeneratorsoperatingwithin.Ordonotarieswereshadowedbyservo-skulls,allworkingforHighExplicatorValdexandthe lord inquisitor.Theycataloguedthecratesbeforehavingheavyservitorsandsentinelpowerliftersmovethecontainerstofreightelevatorsthattookthecargodowntofrozenrepositoriesfarbelowtheplanetsurface.AsaSisterDominionpulledaside thedoor for Invioletta, theSisterSuperiorsteppedoutside.Takingoffherhelmet,she took in thescene. Itwasstill face-scaldinglycoldinthecavernandherbreathfrostedontheair.Shecouldhearthecacophonyofhardworkechoaboutthechamber.Sentinelwalkerstrudgingby.

Immolators idling. Bonded servants calling out to each other, their quillsscratching on vellum and beeping off data-slates. Servo-skulls hoveringoverhead.Inquisitorswithspecialinterestscouldbeheardshoutingattheirownnotariesandservitorswhostoodsilentlyby.‘Have that track checkedwith the enginseers,’ Invioletta called back throughthedooratEupheme,thentoSisterUrsula,‘andrefueltheturrettanks.’‘Asyouwish,’theSistersreplied.‘Thesamewithyourweapons,’Inviolettasaid,turningtotheSistersDominionwhohad exited the vehicle after her. ‘Then evening prayers, vespers and takeyour supper. Weapons check and meet back here for midnight patrol.Understood?’‘Yes,SisterSuperior,’thesquadanswered.‘Wherewillyoube?’Euphemeasked.‘Whereelse?’Inviolettasaid.‘Makingmyreporttothehighexplicator.’

ιABREEDAPART

TheRedactedmovedthroughtheentrancechamberlikeghosts.Theirmovementswere slow but certain, theirmuffled servos and hydraulicscarrying them through the crate stacks almost like dancers.With their plasmaweaponry deactivated and concealed within their camo-cloaks, each AlphaLegionnaire clutched a silencedbolt pistol inhis gauntlet.Everydecisionwasconsidered.Eachmovementwasundertakenwithcaution.Theycouldnotaffordto be seen, and as such the warband moved as one. Their optics flashedeverywhere, ensuring that their armoured forms did not enter the overlappinglines of sight of either the Battle Sisters sentries or the army of Inquisitorialrepositorystaff.Entrytotheinstallationhadbeendifficultandnomemberofthesquadwantedto be responsible for the Redacted being detected. Having hunted down andkilled a xenos creature of the wastes, Occam had had his renegades drag thebody across the ice andposition it on thewell-worn tracksof thebasepatrol.Settingoffameltabomb in thecentreof the frozen tracks,before thehulkingcorpse,thelegionnairesoftheRedactedwadedintotheresultingcraterofslushandallowedittorapidlyrefreezeaboutthem.WhenthenextpatrollingBattleSisterstransportstoppedtodispatchwhattheytooktobeathreatblockingtheirpath,Occamandhislegionnaireshadreachedupfromthefreezingiceandtetheredthemselvestotheundersideofthevehicle.Allowingthemselvestobedraggedthroughtheiceandsnow,theRedactedhadenteredtheInquisitorial installationunnoticed.Unhookingthemselvesfromthebelly of the tracked transport while servitors attended to refuelling, thelegionnairesescapedintothemazeofcratesandcargodominatingthecentreofthecavern.Onebyone,avoidingthedullsensesoftheservitorsandthepairsofBattleSisterspatrolling theperipheryof the cavern, the renegadesmelted into

thestacks.Insidethecavern, thelegionnaireshaddetectednoaugurfields, tripbeamsorpict-streamers.Withthebasestillinastateofunpackingandorganisation,therehadclearlybeennotimeforsuchsecuritymeasures.Occamledthewaythroughthe narrowgaps between themounds, using stasis crates to hide his presence.Hisrenegadesfollowed,theirarmouredstepslightandauto-senseshelpingthemtopicktheirwaythroughthecavernunseen.Hissingwarningsacrosstheirsuitchannelandpointingout threats tooneanother, thelegionnairesnegotiatedthelabyrinthinestackswithstealthandsuperhumanpatience.‘Retreatandwatchthosecorners,’thestrikemasterinstructedunderhisbreath.Moving back between two large humming containers to avoid a data-slate-consultingnotaryandhishydraulicallyclawedservitors,thelegionnaireshadtopass across an arterial route through the collection. Ensuring that no BattleSisters sentrieswere about to cross the route on their patrol and glance downthroughthecargostacks,theRedactedmovedintoasmallcul-de-sacandkneltdowninthesnow.‘Reznor,’ Occam uttered as a pair of servo-skulls glided overhead, scanningcrateidenticawiththeiropticsandrecordingnotationswithmandible-quillsondraped vellum unspooling where their lower jaws had previously been. ThewarpsmithunhookedBeta,ZetaandThetafromhisbeltandactivatedtheservo-automata.Movingwiththesameserpentinestealthasthewarbandandallowinganestofmechatendrilstoslitherdownoutoftheirownskulls,thedroneswenthunting.Stalking the Inquisitorial servo-skulls through thecrates likeoctopoidpredators, Reznor’s servo-automata seized the drones one by one. Withinsecondstheservo-skullshadbeentakenapartanddestroyed.AsthesquadwaitedforbondedservantsandconsultingpriestsandMechanicusmagi to move on, the legionnaires produced their hand-to-hand combatweaponry.‘Dissemble,’thestrikemasterhissed,provokingintheRedactedachameleon-likechange.Aslegionarycolours,scalesandcloaksturneddarkcrimsonlikethespreadinggoreoffreshwounds,therenegadesassumedthesurfaceappearanceof Word Bearers Chaos Space Marines. Occam nodded his approval as thetransformationcompleted. If theRedactedwere tobecapturedby Inquisitorialforces,thenOccamwantedthemtobeidentifiedasWordBearers.AsfarastheImperial authoritieswere tobeconcerned, theAlphaLegionnever set footon54-Thermia.Occampointedwithasingledigitofhisgauntlet:‘Go.’ThemovementoftheRedactedthroughthestacksandacrossthecavernwasa

thing of lethal beauty, all but unseen and unknown. Where cornered byconvergingInquisitorialstaff,theAlphaLegionnaireswereforcedtoimprovisewithsavagedecisiveness.WhileQuodaandthewarpsmithprisedopenstasiscrates,takinganinterestinthe heretical contents,Malik and SergeantHasdrubalwent toworkwith theirpoweredblades.Grabbingbondedservants,notariesandpriestswithspeedandpower-armoured force they dragged their stunned bodies behind crates andslipped the soft crackle of their assassin’s weaponry through the flesh of theirvictims’ throats. Silent. Quick. Economical.Withinmoments, the corpses hadbeen hastily buried in the ice and snow of the cavern floor and coveredwithcratesordumpedinthestasiscontainersthemselves.Wheresmallgroupshadtobedispatchedquickly,thelegionnairesbroughtuptheirboltpistolsandpunchedsilentStalkerroundsthroughthecentreofchestsor clean took off heads. During one desperate entanglement, near the cavernedge,Occamgarrottedayounginquisitorwiththecracklingtendrilbladesofhispower scourge. He held the agent of the Holy Ordos in a vice-like power-armouredhold, thescourgecuttingslowlythroughthegristle, tendonandboneofhisneck.Allwhile the inquisitor’sacolytesandautosavantswereputdownwithsilentboltblastsandthethroat-stabbingthrustofblades.Putting their pauldrons against a large crate, the legionnaires heaved. Theyobscuredtheentrancetoafreightelevator–oneofseveralsetintheicewallofthe cavern – and moved the stasis container across the snow. Watching forpatrollingpairsofBattleSisters,theRedactedmadetheirmove.AutoliconPhexslippedacrosstotheelevatorcar.WithPhexkneelingdownundertheweightofhisheavyplasmagun,hydrogenflasksandgrenades,thelegionnaires–onebyone–ranacrossandreceivedaboostfromtherenegade.Launchedupataroughhatch in the sizeable elevator car, the legionnaires climbed up onto the roofbeforepullingPhexupwiththem.Inthesilenceandgloomoftheice-carvedelevatorshaft,theRedactedpaused.Positioning themselves behind the car’s bulky cable assembly, they waited insilence, kneeling on the roof of the elevator like statues. The car didn’t boastanything as sophisticated as mag-locks in the ice shaft: its controls simplyoperatedaheavy-dutywinchsystemsituatedabovetherenegades.Itwasnoisybut reliable and carried the car up and down the shaft, between the cavern-repositoryandvarioussub-levelsthathadbeencarvedintodepthsoftheice.Asthey moved, Sergeant Hasdrubal listened at the elevator hatch and Reznor’sservo-automata hovered on their repulsors, scanning the different levels with

theirenhancedaugurs.They fed theirdataback to thewarpsmith,who in turnrelayedittoOccamwhentheelevatorcarwasonanemptyreturn.‘Feedbacksconfirmthat theupper levelsaredominatedbyheavymachinery,’Reznorconfirmed,‘whichmakessense.Installationwouldhavebeeneasierandit could have been put in place earlierwhile the lower levelswere still beingexcavated.’‘Generatorum?’thestrikemasterasked.‘Yes,aswellassomekindofoperationscomplex,’thewarpsmithsuggested.‘Below that I suspect are the quarters and garrison levels for the Sisters,’Reznorsaid.‘Fewerreturnsthere.Littleactivity.’‘Andbeneaththose?’‘Repository levels, utilising the greatest concentration of security features,’Reznor said. ‘Blast doors, hexagrammics, basic augur sweeps, sentry stationsandpatrols–atleastasfarasthesereadingssuggest.Nopromises.’‘We have no interest in those,’ Occam said, ‘now we know that the WordBearershavetheprizetheycamefor.’‘ThewarpsmithandIdisagree,’thesorcererQuodaremindedhisstrikemaster,butintheplanningstagesoftheventureOccamhadoverruledthepair’srequesttoinvestigatethesecuredtreasuresoftheInquisitorialrepository.‘Anythingbelowthose?’Occampressedthewarpsmith.‘Attheverybottom,asmallercomplex,’Reznortoldhim.‘Except no stasis containers have been transported down there in the wholetime we’ve been monitoring,’ the sergeant said, lifting his helm up from thehatch.‘Onlypersonnel.’‘Bestguess?’Occamputtohim.‘Mostlypriests,I’dsay,’Hasdrubalinformedhim,‘senioracolytesandSisters–alongwithinquisitors.Agentshavemaderegulartripsdownthere.’‘Prisoners?’Occamasked.‘I’dsayso,’thesergeantsaid.‘It’ssettledthen,’Occamdecided.‘Sergeant,takeQuodaandthewarpsmith.Iwant you to infiltrate the upper level andmake yourway to the generatorum.Usewhateverstrategiesnecessarytodisguiseyourpresence.’‘EvenQuoda?’thesergeantasked.‘Won’tuseofhisabilitiessetoffsomekindofalarm?’Occam nodded. As well as training, stealth, silent slaughter and thechameleonicpropertiesof theirplateandcloaks, thestrikemasterwassendingthemwiththeironlypsyker.PeoplesawwhattheyexpectedtoseeandQuoda’s

powersmightjustbeenoughtomakeevendevoutSistersandstaunchinquisitorsblindtotherenegades’presence.‘Augurs are most likely concentrated in the repository levels to monitor thecorruption of the cargo,’ Reznor reassured them. ‘Little use for them in theoperationssectionorgeneratorum.’‘Onceinthegeneratorum,’Occamcontinued,‘Iwantthewarpsmithtoengineeracontrolledoverload.Nothingexplosive.Asfarastheinstallationisconcerned,we’relookingatareactormalfunction.Theywillsendtheirenginseers.’‘Buttheywon’treachthereactors,’SergeantHasdrubalsaid.‘We’llseetothat.’‘Youwantameltdown?’Reznorclarified.‘Of the surrounding ice,’ Occam said. ‘Warmmeltwater should melt furtherchannelsontheupperlevelanddraindowntheopenelevatorshafts.’‘Thatfollows,’thewarpsmithsaid,‘butonceitbeginstherewillbenostoppingit.’‘I’m counting on it,’ Occam told him. ‘The dungeon level will becomeflooded…’‘…forcingthesecurityforcesdowntheretoevacuatetheprisoners,’Hasdrubaladdedwithapproval.‘Malik,PhexandIwillridedowntothedungeonlevel,’thestrikemastersaid,‘andwilltakepossessionofthetransportedprisonersinthecar.Allrendezvousinthecavern-repositoryforatacticalwithdrawal.InstallationtoSerpent’sEgg.TheDreadclawbacktotheIota-Æternus.Understood?’Thelegionnairesnoddedsilently.As the car shuddered up towards the cavern-repository to collect anotherconsignmentofcargo,theAlphaLegionnairesgotready.Positioningthemselveseithersideofthedoorwayopeningontotheoperationslevel,Hasdruballeanthishelmet to one side and risked a brief glance. With the broad corridor of iceempty,thesergeantledArkanReznorandthesorcererQuodaofftheroofofthemoving car and down the freezing passage towards the distant boom of thegeneratorum.Beta,ZetaandThetadriftedclosebyafterthem.Occam,MalikandPhexremainedhiddenonthecarroofas itwentdowntheshaft.Theyheldpositionasthecarcametoastopandunloadedaconsignmentofcratesonarepositorylevel.Fromthereitcarriedagentsoftheordo,notariesand Battle Sisters down into the depths. The strike master couldn’t hear anyklaxonsorthehammerofbootsintotheelevatorcarthatwouldsignifysecurityforceshadbeenscrambledtotheoperationslevel.It soon became apparent that the sergeant had succeeded in his mission, as

meltwater began to seep, trickle, and then gush down the wall from theoperationslevelopening.Warmwaterbeganstrippingawaytheicewalloftheshaftandfillingitwithsteam.Listeningthroughthehatch,theyheardtheBattleSisters vox the base enginseerswith instructions to inspect the environmentalcontrolsandthegeneratorum.Occamknew,ofcourse,whattheywouldfindwasa quietly overloading reactor that despite their best efforts would continue toheattheiceaboutit.‘Notlongnow,’thestrikemastertoldMalikandPhex.‘Primeyourweapons.’Holstering his pistol and blades, the former Night Lord brought his adaptedplasma gun to life. With some calibration, Malik brought the sound of theweapon’s deep hum down and concealed the blue glow of the barrel with aslidingshutter.AsOccamfollowedsuit,AutoliconPhexdid thesamewithhisheavyplasmagun.Asawaterfallofblackmeltwatergusheddowntheshaftwall,thestrikemasterbroughthishelmopticsdowntoacrackhehadsetupbetweenthehatchandcarroof.Observinginsilenceandanglinghisview,Occamtookintheoccupantsofthecar.He immediately saw the white plate of Battle Sisters. Promethium sloshedabout in the canisters of the flamers they were carrying. Two were bereft ofhelmetsandshaved.Onehadaneyethathadbeen stapledshutwhilethesecond,some kind of officer in an ermine cloak, had black symbols of reverence anddevotionburnedintoherteeth.Shewasspeakingintoavoxheadset.‘Doubletheperimeterguard,’theofficersaidwithasnarl.‘Iwantreportsfromall patrols out on the ice and security logs for the repository levels triple-checked.’‘Itcouldbejustamalfunction,’hercompatriotwiththestapledeyesaid.‘Thecold–nothingmuchseemstoworkonthisiceball.’‘Suchnaivetyisnotyourreputation,SisterSuperior,’ theofficerspat,holdingthereceiverofhervoxheadset.‘YouknowaswellasI,thereisnosuchthingasjustamalfunction,butIexpectthatiswhattheordo’sforcesonNemesisSpectrathought before the apocalypse rained down on them fromorbit. The renegadeandhereticarenottobeunderestimated.’‘Never,palatine,’theSisterSuperioranswered.Occamsawthatthepaircarriedchainsofbarbedsilverandmanaclerestraints–thekindthatmightbeusedintransferringdangerousprisoners.Whentheelevatorarrivedatthebottomoftheshaft,Occamfeltashudderandresistance.Themeltwaterthathadcollectedinthedungeonlevelofthecomplex

slowed the elevator down before gushing in from the connecting passagewayand flooding thecarup to theBattleSisters’ thighs.Holding their flamersandhissingprimersabovethewater,theSisterscursedandwadedintothedarkeneddepthsofthefrozendungeon.After they left, Occam could hear voices and shouting from the oubliettes.Here, the Inquisition had secured their prisoners: dangerous heretics, nullifiedwitchbreeds, alteredsandTraitorSpaceMarines.The strikemasterhookedhisceramite fingertipsunder thehatchandquietlyopened it.Motioning forPhex,Occam directed the legionnaire to position himself above the hatch with thebarrel of his heavy plasma gun pointing down. The strike master and Malikpositionedthemselveseithersideofhim,criss-crossingtheiraimdownintothecar.‘Move,youhereticalscum,’OccamheardthepalatinesayastheBattleSisterssplashedtheirwaybackthroughtherisingwaters.Through the open hatch,Occam saw that theBattle Sisters had their flamersslungandwereholding a loneprisoner in chainsbetween them.OccamcouldtellfromhissizethathewasanAdeptusAstarteslegionary.Apaleandbatteredspecimen of genetic engineering, whose armourless body was splattered withbloodandfilth.Withhisbloodiedwristsmanacledbehindhimandhisankleschainedlooselytogether,thehulkingprisonerhadabracearoundhisbulgingneckandacagedbridleabouthishead.Hewasstruggling towalkandhishands rattled in theirchainslikehisheadinitscage.Patchesofskinacrosstheprisoner’sbodywereblackwith thewitheringeffectsoffrostbite. Itbecameclear toOccamthat theordo torturers had made effective use of their frozen surroundings. As theprisonerwasmovedintothecentreofthecar,Occamcouldseethathisfacewasinaterriblestate.Chains radiating out from links on the neck brace were held by the BattleSisters, keeping the prisoner in place between their number.While the SisterSuperior held an Inferno pistol pointed up at the back of the huge prisoner’scagedhead, thepalatineheld thewickedcurvatureof a chainbladeagainsthismuscularside.Shetappedtheteethoftheweaponagainsthischest.‘Onemove,’ she snarled at the prisoner, staring into his skull-cage. ‘You somuchasblinkatmethewrongway,traitor…’Anglinghisviewthroughthehatch,Occamlookeddownupontheprisoner.Hecouldsee thathewasaWordBearer.Thoughcarryinghimself likeawhippeddog, the proud defiance of his Legion could still be seen in the glint of his

bloodshoteyesandthesetofhisjaw.Hisfleshwaslikeanunholytext.Thosepatchesthatwerenotfrostbittenandblackwereacontestedspaceofwordsandsymbols tattooed into theskin.Fadedbeneathweresigilsand incantations thatOccamrecognisedas ruinousmarkersandhonoraria.Thesecoveredhiswholebody,whileover the top– inbloodyinkmuchfresher thanthehereticalflesh-scripture–werehexagrammicsymbolsandwritinginHighGothic.Withtheprisonersecure,aninquisitorenteredtheelevatorcar.Hisordorobesand the small mountain of exotic furs cascading down from his armouredshouldersmadewading through themeltwater difficult. A bionic claw tappednervouslyagainstthegripofaholsteredboltpistol,whiletheotherclutchedhishelm. He treated the occupants of the elevator car to his skull-face. Thebeneficiaryofmanyrejuvenattreatmentsandsurgeries,theinquisitor’sfacewasmottled, threadbare skin stretched across the sharp bones. It was almosttransparent inplaces.His eyeswereorbsmistywith age,behindwhichbionicopticshadbeenimplanted,makinghispupilsandthesurroundingtransparencyof his skull glow red. He also no longer had his own teeth, instead baringimplanted fangs of sanctified silver. Somehow the agent of the Holy Ordosmanagedtomakeaseeminglypermanentscowlwiththetightskinofhisface–amaskofprejudiceandhatred.‘Lordinquisitor,’thepalatineasked,‘whatabouttheothers?’‘One did not survive the exorcism,’ the inquisitor said, ‘the other,the interrogations that followed. I will not allow this wretched specimen themercyofdrowning.Gethimuptooneoftherepositorylevels,somewherethisflood cannot reach him. I want him secured in one of the empty reliquaries.Then,lady-palatine,IshallexpectafullreportregardingwhatonHolyTerraisgoingon.’‘Yes, my lord,’ the palatine replied, throwing the crank that activated theelevator.Once again, Occam felt the winch struggle. It wasn’t just carrying thepassengers, it was trying to lift half a car full of meltwater. The elevatorshudderedbackuptheiceshaft,waterdrainingfromthecarasitmoved.Occamknewtheycouldn’twaitmuchlonger.WitheverypassingmomentthechanceoftheRedactedbeingdiscoveredontopoftheelevatorcarorinthegeneratorumincreased.Between floors, the occupants of the carwere stranded andbeyondthe help of Battle Sisters sentries in both the dungeon and on the repositorylevelsabove.‘Now,’Occamordered.

TheBattle Sisters heard the sub-atomicwhoosh of Phex’s heavy plasmagunandlookedup.Therewasnothingtheycoulddotostopthecataclysmicblastofbluefurythatrageddownthroughthecar.Phexpumpedorbafterblisteringorbdownthroughthehatch,blastingscreamingSistersdownthroughscorchedholesin the car floor. Occam and Malik joined the mayhem, sending streams offurious plasma balls down into the car that burned straight through plate andflesh. About the prisoner, Sisters of Battle died – the victims of the AlphaLegion’sexpertaimandunrelentingdestruction.Inthemomentsthatfollowed,everythingwashavoc.BattleSistersdisappearedinblindingeruptionsofplasmawhileothersclutchedholesburnedcleanthroughtheirchestsandabdomensbeforecrashingdownonto theirkneesand topplingover.Theunsteadyprisonerwasdraggeddownwiththemandboththepalatineand Sister Superior had to rescue themselves from falling throughwide holesmeltedthroughthecarfloor.‘Word Bearers!’ the palatine roared, her lips contorted about the uglyexclamation.Asshepointedherchainbladeupatthehatch,theoccupantsofthecar returned fire. The Sister Superior’s Inferno pistol melted blast holes upthroughtheroofofthecar,whilethelordinquisitor’sboltpistol–fastoutofitsholster in his bionic claw – punched bolts wildly up at the Redacted. As acolumn of fire from a Battle Sister’s flamer raged through the hatch, thelegionnaireswereknockedback.Malik stumbledandPhex’scamo-cloakcaughtlight.Whentheflamesevaporated,Occamcouldseethatthelordinquisitorwasstandingoverhisprisoner.‘Youreturn,enemyoftheEmperor,’theinquisitorcalledupthroughthehatch,his bolt pistolwavering before theWordBearer’s head. ‘Surrender, or I shalldenyyouyourprize.’Occamknewhehadtoact.Hecouldguntheinquisitordownfromtheelevatorcarroof,butnowhehadstatedhis intention,Occamcouldneverhit theSisterSuperiorandpalatinebeforetheyendedtheprisoner.Thudding across the roof with powered steps, the strike master jumped anddropped down through the hatch. Appearing from the gloom of the ice shaft,Occamlandedon the inquisitor.Using theweightofhisplateand theforceofthedrop,thestrikemastersmashedtheinquisitor’sframe,bionicworkingsandornate suit into the floor. Aiming his plasma gun down at the metal clawclutchingtheboltpistol,whichOccamnowhadpinned,heblastedbothweaponandappendagetosteamingoblivion.BesidesthepalatineandherSisterSuperior,onlyoneBattleSisterhadsurvived

theplasmaonslaught.InherscorchedwhiteplatesheturnedonOccam,aimingthenozzleofherflamerathim.‘So,you’regoingtoburnusall,Sister?’Occamtaunted.‘Doit!’thepalatinecommanded,astheSisterhesitated.Hercommanderhadnosuchqualmsaboutsacrificingeveryonein theelevatorcar todestroytheWordBearers.‘Malik,’ the strike commander called.A second later, theBattleSister’s headwasgone–blazedfromhershouldersinaflashofplasma.Asherbodydropped,OccamcouldseetheformerNightLordthroughthehatch,kneelingonthecarroof,peeringdownhisweapon.BargingthecorpseoftheirfallingSisteraside,thepalatineandSisterSuperiorthrewthemselvesatOccam.‘Die,heretic!’thepalatinebawled,asthestrikemasterbroughthisplasmagunup.Sparksflewasshebattedthebarreloftheweaponaside.Carriedoffbythethrashing teeth, the plasma gun was torn from Occam’s grip and flew at theelevatorwall.Asthebladeslashedback,hefeltitsbarbsbiteintothesurfaceofhisplate.Turningwiththemotion,Occamsnatchedhispowerscourgefromhisbeltandthumbedittocracklingagitation.Whippingthetendrilbladesaround,thestrikemaster struck the curved chainblade. Sparking pieces of the weapon hit theoppositewall.As theSisterSuperior shot a superheatedblast of energyat thestrike master from her Inferno pistol, he snatched the palatine up by herbreastplateandusedtheBattleSisterasashield.Occamwatchedtheexpressiononthepalatine’sfacechangeasthemeltablastcookeditswaythroughher.Throwinghercorpsetooneside,hepassedthescourgebetweenhisgauntlets,bringingthesnakingtendrilsupandoverhishead.RippingthemdownthroughtheSisterSuperior,hepausedashecompletedthemanoeuvre.Thescourgehadcuttheone-eyedSisterintopieces.CleancutsthroughplateandbonemeantthattheSisterSuperiorswiftlybecameamoundoftopplingflesh.Occamallowedhimselfamomentasthecarnagesettled.Coilinguphispowerscourgeandrecoveringhisbatteredplasmagun,thestrikemasterpickedhiswaythroughthebodies.Drawinghisboltpistol,hethuddedStalkerroundsintoanybodystillquivering.Ashedidso,OccamsawthathewasbeingwatchedbytheWordBearer.‘Wehavecomeforyou,brother,’Occamtoldhim.‘Youreallyhaven’t,’theWordBearertoldhim,raspingthroughtheruinofhisface.

Occamlookeddownathisplateandcloak.Perhapsitwashisaccent.PerhapsitwasthemeaninglesssigilsthatwerepartofhisdisguiseorthesurfacepatchesofscaledplatethathadbeentornupbythechainbladeandwerebetrayingthetruecoloursofhisLegion.OccamturnedtheboltpistolontheWordBearer.‘Whatdoyoucare?’thestrikemastersaid.‘You’regettingrescued.’Scoopingup theprisoner’schainshe threw themup toPhexandMalik,whounceremoniouslyhauled theWordBearerup through thehatch.Holstering thepistol,OccamleaptupforthehatchandMalik’sofferedgauntlet,thelegionnairehelpingtopullhisstrikemasterupontotheroof.‘Sergeant,’Occamsaid,changinghissuit’svox-channel.‘Theprisonerisinourpossession.Statusreport?’At thatmoment the ice shaftbegan toechowith thebleatof adistant alarm.When Hasdrubal finally returned the communication, his voice was all butdrownedoutbygunfire.‘We’verunintoafewproblems,strikemaster…’

κSLITHER

By the time the elevator car reached the operations level, all hell had brokenloose.Klaxons carried through the thin air.The corridor floorwas a rapids offast-moving meltwater and fallen armoured bodies. Notaries and bondedservantssplashedthiswayandthatacrossjunctions,whileBattleSistersinwhiteplate created gauntlets and bottlenecks, filling the corridorwith gouts of fierybrilliancefromtheirflamers.From around the corner, Occam saw Beta, Zeta and Theta appear. Blazingtowards the elevator on their repulsors, they were clearly trying to escapegunfire.Zetawasaflame.ThencamethesergeantandQuoda.Whilethesorcererheldhisplasmagun inonehand,hesupportedHasdrubal in theother,guidinghimaroundthecornerandpushinghimontowardstherisingelevatorcar.Asthesergeant got closer it became clear that the faceplate of his helm had beensmashed.His opticswere cracked and his grille an uglymess. The helmwassparking, as though it had been hit by a glancing bolt round or swipe of achainblade.FromthewayQuodawasguidinghim,thesergeanthadclearlybeenblinded.As the twomade their desperatewayup the corridor, theywere followedbystreamsofflamelickingtheirbacksandboltblastssendingupfountainsinthemeltwater deluge. Occam andMalik returned fire, sending a storm of plasmablasts back up the corridor that skimmed thewall. These and furious balls ofenergy unleashed byAutolicon Phex’s heavyweapon drove the Battle Sistersbackbehindthecoverofcorners.Several were suddenly blasted off their feet and into the junction, fallingfaceplatefirstintotheshallowwaters.AsorbsofplasmablazedinthebacksofthefallenSisters,ArkanReznorappearedbehindthem.Hewasholdinghisownplasma gun in one gauntlet and Ephron Hasdrubal’s in the other. Pumping

plasmablastsbackthewayhehadcome,heturnedandranwithpoweredstepstowardstheelevator.ThecorridorbehindhimbecameaninfernoofflameastheBattleSisterschasinghimdownclosedwiththeirquarry.Meltwaterrainedfromtheceilingandstreameddownthewalls.Foramoment,thewarpsmithwaslostin a haze of black steam until suddenly he appeared. Sliding through themeltwatertorrent,Reznorwasdownonhisside–theiceandwatercarryingtheweightofhissuitalonguntilfinallyheenteredtheelevatorcarandhitthebackwallwiththesolesofhisarmouredboots.Quodahitthecrank,sendingthecarbackuptowardstheentrancechamber.‘Grenades and spare canisters,’ the strikemaster ordered, prompting Phex tostart pulling melta bombs and plasma gun hydrogen flasks from his belt andhandthemtoMalikandOccam.Thestrikemasternoddedandthethreeofthembeganprimingmeltabombsandhurling themupat the fast-approachingdoorway to thecavern.Theyfollowedthesewiththehydrogencanisters.‘Down,’Occamordered, loweringhisheadandprompting the legionnaires todrop through the ruinedhatchand into the carwith theothers.Ashedroppeddownhimself,thedetonationsbegan.Thewallsoftheshaftshookandfractured,whilethefreightcartrembled,swingingonitscableandbangingagainsttheice.ThelegionnairesoftheRedactedkneltdownonthefloorofthecarwithReznorand theWord Bearer. Knowing what was coming, Reznor tried to shield theprisonerthebesthecould.Explosionsandanintensewaveofheatpassedoverthe topof the car, followedby the flameof the explodinghydrogen canisters.Thelegionnairesfelttheheatwashacrosstheirheadsandtheirbacks.Astheexplosionsdiedaway,thewarpsmithliftedhisheadtochecktheWordBearer.‘Areyouhurt,brother?’Reznorasked.‘Heknows,’Occaminformedthewarpsmithacrossthevox,promptingReznortoabandonthecharade,pullhisboltpistolfromhisholsterandputthemuzzleundertheWordBearer’schin.‘I’ve got the prisoner,’Occam said, scooping up his chains and standing up.‘Quoda?’The sorcerer lookeddownat thewretchedWordBearer and reached into thefoetidrecessesofthetraitor’smind.‘Hatred,’ the sorcerer told Occam, reading the prisoner’s muddled thoughts.‘Confusion.Pain–alotofpain,bothphysicalandspiritual.’‘Notsurprising,’Reznorsaid,usingtheboltpistolundertheWordBearer’schin

togethimupofftheground.‘Well, thatwill benothingcompared towhatwe’ll do tohim ifhe interfereswithourobjectives,’Hasdrubal said,hisgauntleton thehiltofhismulti-bladedagger.‘Idon’tthinkhe’sinmuchofaconditiontodothat,’thesorcererQuodasaidasthecarshuddereduptheshafttowardstheopendoorway.‘Sergeant?’Occamasked.‘Whataboutyou?’‘Can’tseeanything,’Hasdrubaladmitted.‘Don’tworry,’ the strikemaster toldhim. ‘You’renotmissingmuch.Reznor,have your automata guide the sergeant. Phex, blast us a path. Malik, point.Warpsmith, you have the rear. Be ready for anything. Don’t stop until we’veclearedthefacility.’

As the car rocked by themelted doorway, Phex blasted awaywith his heavyplasmagun,lightingupthesteam-shroudedstacksofthecavern.‘Go!’ Occam commanded, sending his legionnaires out into the decimation.TheRedacted slipped and slid down into the craters left behind by themeltabomb detonations. The hydrogen canisters had caused further destruction byknockingdownstacksandsettingfiretostasis-containers.Astheirshapesweredetectedintheblackmist,theBattleSistersholdingthecavernopenedfire.BoltblastsandfirestreamseruptedfromalldirectionsasSistersfiredupontherenegades from strategic hold points and as they exited elevator freight carsfurtheraroundthecavernwall.Takingcover in thecraters and stepping through the flame-swathedandhalf-meltedbodiesofbondedservantsandnotaries,Malikledtheway.HetooktheRedacted from cover to cover. Melted depressions. Half-demolished stacks.Large containers.WhileMalik dropped advancing Sisterswith his expert aimand rocketing orbs of plasma, Phexmoved up behind, blasted stacks apart torevealSistersinwhite,waitinginambush.DraggingthestumblingWordBeareralongonashortchain,Occampulledtheprisonerdownclosetothegroundtoavoidricochetingboltroundsandstreamsofblessedflame.PumpingballsofplasmabetweenMalikandPhex, thestrikemasterblastedfallenSistersgettingtotheirfeetbackintothefloorofice.AsMalikledthemswiftlyon,pushingthroughthehavocandconfusionofthecavern-repository, Occam could hear the screams of dying Inquisitorial staffabovetheklaxons.Hecouldalsomakeouttherabidcallsoftheirordomasters,intentondestroyingtheWordBearerswhotheybelievedhadmountedanassault

ontheirtemporarybaseofoperationsandwereattemptingtofreetheirprisoner.Outofthebankofblacksteam,Occamsawawhiteshapeaccompaniedbythesoundofthrashingmetalteeth.Swingingachainswordaboveherhead,aBattleSisterchargedtowardshim.OccamhauledtheWordBeareraroundandwenttopoint his plasma gun, but Carcinus Quoda got there first. Swinging his forcesceptre,hesmacked the thrashingchainbladeasidebeforesweeping theheavy,glowing crystal back. Charged with psychic power, the weapon smashed thebrokenBattleSisteroffherfeetandbackthroughthemist.Anothercameatthestrikemasterandhisprisonerfromtheotherside,runningarounda largestackofcrates.Somekindofofficer, shecarrieda shortpowerbladethathummeditsviciousintent.PullingtheWordBearerbackaroundtheotherside,OccamblastedtheoncomingSister.Asplasmaballsblazedintoherbreastplate, shewasknockedbackandher lifeless armouredcorpsecame toaskidding,steaminghaltbeforethestrikemaster.Lookingbehind,Occamsawthat thescorchedshapeofThetahoveredbeforeHasdrubal,leadingtheway,whileBetaandZeta–theirmechatendrilswrappedunderhisarms–guidedtheAlphaLegionsergeantthroughthewreckage,bodiesandgunfire.BringinguptherearwasArkanReznor.Hecarriedoneplasmagunslungoverhisshoulderandheldanotheremptyweaponinhishand.Drawinghisbolt pistol, he sent silenced Stalker rounds back at pursuing Battle Sisters.Pointing the weapon down at collapsed stacks of containment crates, thewarpsmith shot at their stasis-field generators. Ruptured crates spilled theirhereticalcontents,forcingBattleSisterstoretreatfromthecorruptiveinfluenceof suchdangerousartefacts.Whereunstable stasis fieldscrackled,mergedandspreadacross the carnage,BattleSisterswere caught.Frozen in the strugglingstasisfields,Reznorsentboltstheirway.Frozenalso,theroundshoveredbeforetheSisters,readytoendtheirlivesasthefieldscollapsed.Ducking beneath columns of flame, the Alpha Legionnaires changed theirhydrogencanistersandpushedonthroughthehavoc.PuttingSistersdownwithclose-range energy blasts and stabbing slashes of his power dagger,Malik ledthemtowardsthecavernblastdoors.AsPhexblazedthepairofSistersguardingtheexitbackintothescorchedmetalofthegiantdoor,Occamkneltdown.‘Reznor,’ the strike master called, drawing the warpsmith up from behind.‘Bypassthecontrols.’Asthewarpsmithwenttoworkontheblastdoor,theAlphaLegionnaireslaiddownamercilesshailofplasma,forcingtheBattleSistersbackbehindtrackedtransportsundergoingmaintenance.

‘Now, Reznor,’ Occam called to the struggling warpsmith, as bolt roundssparkedspectacularlyofftheblastdoor.‘It’sencoded,’Reznorcalled.‘Now, warpsmith,’ Occam roared, pulling the Word Bearer behind him andemptyinghisplasmagunattheBattleSisters.‘Gotit,’Reznorsaidfinallyastheblastdoorsbeganrumblingaside.‘Go!’Occamcalled,pushinghisprisoneroutintothefreezingstorm.Asonebyone the legionnaires struck out across the ice, they became aware of lampsbleedingthroughthestorm.‘Vehicle,’Malikcalled,promptingPhex to throwhimameltabomb.Primingthe grenade, Occam slid it across the ice and under the oncoming armouredtransport.Withaflash,thefrontofthevehiclewasturnedtodribblingslag.Asscreaming Sisters opened the side door and fell out of the vehicle, thelegionnairestrudgedpastwithoutmercyandbecameonewiththeblackstorm.

‘Whereisit?’‘Port-side aft,’ Arkan Reznor reported from one of the Dreadclaw’srunescreens.‘Comingupfast.’Theimagedisplayinganexteriorpict-feedshowedtherecedingdarkballof54-Thermiaandtheadvancingshapeofasleek,Inquisitorialcorvette.Ithadtakenseveral hours of evasivemanoeuvres and doubling back through the storm toavoidthetrackedtransportsoftheBattleSistershuntingthemthroughthedeepfreeze.When theyhad finally reached theSerpent’sEgg and achieved lift-off,theyfoundthattheOrdoHereticuscorvettetheyhadobservedearlierhadbeenbroughtoutofhidingtomountanorbitalpatrol.TheDreadclawbenefittedfromaheadstartbutcouldn’thopetooutrunthecorvette.While the rest of the Redacted were locked in their cradles alongside thechainedWordBearer,Occamdriftedabouttheinteriorcompartmentinthezero-gravity.‘WhereistheIota-Æternus?’Quodaasked.‘Onstation,whereshewasinstructedtoawaitoutreturn,’theblindHasdrubalsaid,surethatNaga-Khanwouldfollowhisorders.‘Warpsmith?’thestrikemastersaid.‘Torpedoaway,’Reznorcalledout.‘Ontarget?’‘Ontarget,’Reznorconfirmed.‘Evasive?’

‘Notachance,’thewarpsmithsaid.Occam waited precious seconds. With each passing moment the corvette’srighteoustorpedowasstreakingtowardstheDreadclaw.‘Escape isn’t enough,’ Occam decided, announcing his intention to thecompartment. ‘We’re going to have to turn this around on our pursuers.Warpsmith,whatdowehavethatcantakedownatorpedo?’‘Nothingoffensivehasrange,’Reznoranswered.‘Whataboutnon-offensive?’Occamasked.‘Canitbeneutralised?’‘Perhaps…’ the warpsmith said, unlocking himself from his cradle andswimmingthroughthezero-gravitytothecompartmentfloor.‘Talktome,’Occamcalled.‘Electromagneticpulse,’Reznorsaid,snatchingthecogbladeofhisOmnissianpoweraxeandtearinguptheflooringandsilverinsulation.‘I’mgoingtorigthepiezoelectriccrystalsintheengineandpodsystemsforoverload.’‘Andthiselectromagneticpulsecannullifythetorpedo’sownsystems?’Occamsaid.‘Intheory.’‘Ourplate?’‘Will recover,’ Reznor said. ‘The machine-spirits will activate auxiliarysystems.’‘WhatabouttheDreadclaw?’thesorcererQuodasaid.‘Likethe torpedo,we’lllosecontrolalso.’‘Onecrisisatatime,’SergeantHasdrubalwarned.‘Iota-Æternus,’thestrikemastercalledacrossthevox-channel,‘encoding.’‘Iota-Æternus,receiving,’Naga-Khanresponded.‘Shipmaster,listencarefully–weareshortlygoingtolosevox-communicationsandpower,’Occamsaid.‘Receiving,LordOccam,’theshipmastersaid.‘Wearebeingpursued,’thestrikemastersaid.‘Iwantyoutoplotaninterceptcourseandprimeyourweaponry.We’llleadthemstraighttoyou.’‘Onourway,’Naga-Khantoldhimacrossthechannel.Lookingdown,Occamsaw that thewarpsmithwashard atwork, tearingoutcablingandmakinghishereticalmodifications.‘Quoda,’ the strike master said. ‘We are going to lose life support. Get theinsulationandwrapupourprisoner.’‘Andyouthoughtitwascolddownontheplanet,’theblindHasdrubalsaidtotheWordBearer,leaningacrossfromhiscradle.

‘Howclose?’Reznorcalledupfromthemessoffloatingcables.Occam pulled himself through the weightlessness of the Dreadclawcompartment,downtoReznor’srunescreens.‘Close,’thestrikemasterwarned,watchingthetorpedostreakthroughthevoidtowardsthem.‘I’mgoingtoneedacountdown,’thewarpsmithsaid,tearingoutmorecablingandholdingtwosparkinginterfaciainhisgauntlets.‘Ineedtosetoffthepulseaboutonetotwohundredmetresout.’‘Thatisgoingtobeclose,’Quodasaid.

‘Ready?’Occamasked.Thewarpsmithdidn’tlookit.‘Standingby.’‘Three…’ the strikemaster called, not taking his optics off the exterior pict-feed.‘Two…one.Now.’When Reznor struck the interfacia, the cables sparked spectacularly. As theflash filled the compartment, the flooring about the warpsmith exploded asthough theDreadclaw’scellshadoverloaded.Reznorwasblastedbackandhitthe wall, letting out a roar of pain. Everything happened so fast that it wasdifficult forOccam to follow.Runebanks set in theDreadclaw’swall sectionssparked furiously. Screens blazed white and then shattered. A sequence ofsmaller ruptures made their way through the engine compartment before onefinaloverloadkilledthelightofeverylampandsysteminthedroppod.Occam’s auto-senses briefly cut off and his optics blinked to blackness. Thestrikemasterfeltthestruggleinthedarknessabouthim–hisplate’sbelligerentmachine-spirit fighting for its continued existence. With a flicker, the opticsreturned,followedbyauto-senses,hydraulicsandservo-automotives.Almost immediately Occam felt the impact of the torpedo. Instead ofdetonating in a brief, oxygen-fuelled explosion, both torpedo and Dreadclawsimplycollided.Theelectromagneticpulsehadburnedoutthetorpedo’sprimingmechanismsandinsteadturnedtheweaponintotheequivalentofagiant,bullet-shapedslug.The high-speed impact smashed into the drop pod’s armour plating with athunderous clang that could be felt through wall, cradle and plate. Occambounced off the wall and was thrown through the weightlessness of thecompartment.HecouldfeeltheDreadclawtumblingoffcoursethroughthevoid.Ashesteadiedhimself,hecouldseethatthesickeningmotionwasbeingmadeworse by a hull breach in a crumpled wall about the site of the impact. The

Serpent’sEggwasbleedingatmosphereintothevoid,propellingtheDreadclawon in its dizzying tumble. He felt the pull of the expulsion and consideredattempting to block the breach. The strike master decided against it. Nothingwouldstopthemlosingatmospherenow:air,warmthandpressure.The strike master looked about the darkened compartment, his suit lampscutting through the gloom.He sawReznor’s unconscious body floating in hisplate and being drawn to the narrow hull breach. Smoke drizzled from oneblackenedgauntletwherethetorrentofpowerfromtheDreadclaw’sbatterycellshad flowed back through thewarpsmith.Beta, Zeta andTheta had fared littlebetter, the servo-automata clanking about the compartment in zero-gravity –theirworkingsburnedoutbytheelectromagneticpulse.Abouthim,Occamheardthepumpsandlifesupportdieaway.Therumbleofthe Dreadclaw’s thrusters could no longer be felt through the drop pod’ssuperstructure.TheSerpent’sEggwasnownothingmorethanacoffintumblingthroughspace.All the legionnaires could do was wait. Occam pulled himself around thecompartment,checkingontheunconsciousReznorandputtinghimbackinhiscradle. He checked on EphronHasdrubal also. The sergeant assured him thatbeyondgettingsparksdirectlyintohiseyeswhenhishelmwashit,thecrackedopticsandfaceplateitselfshowednosignofabreach.ThiswasthesamewithReznor’sblackenedgauntlet.The Word Bearer was not so fortunate. Without his plate, the Traitor wasexposedtothefiercehostilityofthevoid.Adropinpressure.Alackofoxygen.Murderous cold. Checking the prisoner,who already looked like he had beenbeaten and tortured into a private hell, Occam saw that his geneticallyengineeredbodywasalready responding to itsglandsand implants.TheWordBearer was entering a state of suspended animation, preserving his vitalfunctions,whilehisskinhadstartedtobleedaparchment-likesecondsurface–athinorganicveilofscabbythreadsthatOccamknewwouldformintoacocoon-likecovering,protectingtheprisonerfromtheravagesoftheenvironment.TheRedactedbided their time.Withoutports in thearmouredDreadclawandwith the exterior pict-feeds dead, the renegades knew nothing of what washappening in the void outside. Occam even tried to peer through the crackedbreachinthecompartmentwallbutcouldseenothing.TheSerpent’sEggcouldbeattheepicentreofadesperatespacebattlebetweentheIota-ÆternusandtheInquisitorialcorvette–andprobablywas–but lockedinsidethedroppod, thelegionnairesknewnothing.

From time to time the strike master’s plate registered ghostly readingssuggestiveofactivityoutside–energyfeedbackfromwhatcouldhavebeenanexchangeoflaserbeamsandcannonfire.HefelttheslightestinertialnudgeoftheDreadclaw adjusting trajectory, probably caused by the drop path crossingthepathofanenginetrailorsub-lightturnwherethetwovesselsoutsideweredesperatelytryingtopositionthemselvesforadevastatingbroadside.Naga-Khanhadbeenaprivateer for thealien racesof theEasternFringeandhad engaged Imperial vessels in piratical actions many times before. Morerecently, the strike master had been on the bridge while the shipmaster hadsprungsuchambushes.Naga-Khanfavoureddrawinghisvictimsin,presentingthe Iota-Æternus as a harmless freighter broadcasting false identica on allchannels.As inquisitivevesselsapproached,hewouldpresent theunarmedQ-ship’sflank.Withoutweaponry,suchamanoeuvrefailedtoregisterasathreat.That was until the shipmaster ordered compartment doors rolled aside on thevessel’sportandstarboardsides,revealingtoanattackerhiddencannonbatteriesinstead of freight holds. Firing as each cannon bared, the Iota-Æternusoverloadedtheenemy’sforwardvoidshieldsandblastedpowerfulenergybeamsdownthroughthelengthofthetargetvessel,Naga-Khanultimatelycripplinghisfoe.Occam had seen the captain expertly spring the same successful ambush ahundredtimes.Hecouldthinkofnoreasonwhysuchascenariowasn’tplayingout at that moment. The shipmaster had the element of surprise, as well asxenos-modifiedweaponryandsub-lightengines.Thestrikemasterbet,however,thatNaga-KhanhadneverfacedthecaptainofanInquisitorialcorvettebefore.Such ships benefitted from some of the best technology the Imperium had tooffer.TheRedacted’slongwaitfinallycametoanendwiththesubtle reintroductionofgravity.AsOccam’sbootsdriftedbackdownandthedroppodthunkedtothefloor of a hangar flight deck, the strikemaster considered to whom the deckbelonged.‘PatternAsteron,’Occamordered.QuodaandMalikjoinedtheirstrikemasterabout the compartmentwalls, their glowing plasmaguns pointed at the hatch.Hasdrubal,ReznorandtheWordBearerwerestilllockedintheircagesbutthesergeant had his multi-blade dagger out. Autolicon Phex had taken positionbehindthecradles,hisheavyplasmagunpointingbetweenthelegionnairesanddownthelengthofthedroppod.AsaplasmatorchwenttoworkontheexithatchoftheSerpent’sEgg, filling

the inner compartment with sparks, Occam and his legionnaires hugged theirweapons against their pauldrons. Therewas no time for grenades, or to allowsuch weapons to be thrown into the Dreadclaw from outside. As soon as anenemypresencewasconfirmed,theRedactedwouldneedtoturnthehatchintoamonstrousmouthvomitingforthastormofmurderousplasma.‘Standby,’Occamsaidastheplasmatorchfinisheditswork.‘Remember–donotbetakenalive.That’sanorder.’Occamsawthelegionnairesnodtheiragreement.TheyonlyhadtolookattheWordBearertoseewhatavengefulInquisitionhadinstoreforthem.Asthehatchfellawayandthunkedtothedeck,smokeobscuredtheopening.Occam’scyclingopticsrevealedfiguresbeyond.Onecameforwardthroughtheobscurity.‘The shipmaster’s compliments,’ a voice carried into the compartment. Itbelonged toMina Perdita. As the smoke cleared, the Redacted could see theAssassin,theHighSerpentandmembersoftheSeventhSonsonthehangardeckbeyond–thedeckbelongingto theIota-Æternus. ‘He isglad to report thathehascrippledtheenemyvessel,mylord–withsuperficialdamagetoourown.’‘Verygood,’OccamtoldtheAssassin,allowingthebarreloftheplasmaguntodriftdown.Thelegionnairesinthecompartmentdidlikewise.‘Mycomplimentsinreturn.’‘Yourorders,mylord?’‘Myorders,’Occamtoldher,‘aretogetusoutofhere–best possiblespeed.’

PARTIII

UNITYANDLIES

λTURNINGTHESCALES

TheCathedraCrosiumwasdefinitelyimpressive.Evenaman likeArchimedisVanLeeuwen–no stranger to the segmentum’swonders–foundhimselfstaring.Towering high above the low-gravity world of Incandesica, the cathedra’scrownof steeples andchapel towers reached for theheavens. Incandesicawassituated at the heart of the Crozier Worlds and was the hub of AdeptusMinistorumaffairsinthesector.ThemightyCathedraCrosiumsatattheheartofIncandesica’s high-rise continental expanse of City-Sanctus. One fat hive,expanding for thousands of kilometres and dominated by dormitory spires,templecomplexesandthemagnificenceofgothicshrines,theCity-Sanctuswasswarmingwithpriestsandpilgrims.Doubling as a palace of planetary governance, the great state rooms of thecathedra were vaulted chambers of ornate stonework – ancient and beautiful.Colonnades of statues ran up the centre, depicting cardinals and other highecclesiarchsheraldingfromthesector,andsaintsthathadinspiredthefaithfuloftheCrozierWorlds.Thecolonnadecametoanendatthecentreofthecavernouschamber.Situatedthere was the pulpit throne of the cardinal incumbent, framed by a colossaltapestrybearinga fancifuldepictionof theGod-Emperorcarrying theglobeofIncandesicaonhisarmouredshoulder.Abovethethrone,thecathedra’shigheststeeple remainedopen like a crownof its own, revealing the starlit firmamentandthepassingofthecardinalworld’sdevotionalmoons.Even at a brisk pace, it took half an hour to make one’s way through thepalace’s many massive ante-chambers, ambulatories and transepts. Fraters,pilgrimsandconfessorsstoppedintheirtrackstoallowthepartytopass,whileboltgun-wieldingBattleSisters,infullceremonialpalaceplate,gavethevisitors

thenarrowingoftheireyes.LeadingthewayinhisrobesandfurswastheLordInquisitorVanLeeuwen,amemberoftheHolyOrdos.ThesigiloftheOrdoHereticusemblazonedonthebreastofhisancientpoweredplatetoldallthateveninaplaceofimportantmen,hewasamanofsingular importance.Theinquisitorcarriedhisornatehelmathissideandtappedanemptybeltholsterwithabionicclaw–theboltpistolthatusuallyresidedtherehadbeenleftwiththedeanofthepalacegateasasignofrespect.Several Sister-Vestals gasped as they saw his gruesome face up close. Themottled transparency of his face and the skin stretched across his skull wereevidenceofseveralrejuvenattreatmentstoomany.Thesilverfangsthatreplacedhis teeth and the red pin-point optics burning through his misted eyes andglowingthroughhiswastedfleshaddedtotheinquisitor’sgrotesqueappearance.He was not alone. The flagstones shook beneath his own step as an honourguard of recruited penitents flanked him. The last surviving members of theNovaLegion,thefiveAngelsofDeathhadpaintedovertheirlegionarycolourswith the black of mourning and pledged their superhuman talents to VanLeeuwenandhishuntfortheirswornfoes.Liketheinquisitor,theytoohadlefttheirweaponrywiththedean.AttendinguponVanLeeuwenintheformofdiplomaticaideswereanativesonanddaughterof theCrozierWorlds.SisterSuperiorSabineof theOrderof theAugustVigilhadbeenpartof the secondment sent fromIncandesicawith twohundredofherdevoutkindtosupporttheinquisitorinhisworkontheCradle’sedge. Confessor Karolco, meanwhile, had worked for Van Leeuwen as anexorcist,extractingthesecretsofpossessedheretics.Astheinquisitorandhisentouragearrivedbeforethepulpitthrone,itbegantoturnonitsmightydais.VanLeeuwennotedthepresenceofBattleSistersupintheraisedstonegalleries,pointingscopedand targeter-mountedStalker-patternboltguns through embrasures anddown at the newarrivals.The inquisitor feltthe scopes of theweapons followhim and the dot of targeters pass across hisornateplate.ItseemedtoVanLeeuwenthatbringingweaponsintothecathedraonlybreachedAdeptusMinistorumdiktatswhentheywerecarriedbyvisitors.Choirs of voxhailer-mouthed servitors flanked the throne chamber, filling itsvastnesswithhymnalsandcogitator-fedrecitationsfromtheLectitioDivinitatus.Inthethronewasthehuskofaman,twiceevenVanLeeuwen’sage.Buriedinan ornamental cassock and towering mitre, the cardinal astra’s skeletal handlooked as if it were fossilised to the ceremonial crozier he held upright. The

inquisitorsuspectedthatthewizenedcardinalrarelylefthisthrone,ifthenestofmedical tubes,pumpsandmonitorswasanything togoby.As thedais turned,theclusterofclergyandattendantsgatheredaboutthecardinalcamearoundwithit. While Sisters Hospitaller attended upon the cardinal’s person, a SisterFamulousstoodbeforearunescreen-mountedlectern.Acrusaderinancientplatestompedforward,hisstepsheavyonthedais.Asherestedthetipofhisnotchedceremonial power sword against the stone the sound reverberated around thechamber.WithhimstoodaBattleSister, somekindofcanoness, the inquisitorsuspected. Her head was brutally shaved like Sister Sabine’s. Van LeeuwenwatchedherflickuntrustingeyesfromhisentourageuptotheSistersbehindtheembrasures.Anextravagantcloakcoveredherornateplateandthecanonessheldasceptre inhergauntlets.Althoughthesceptrewasceremonial, it lookedas iftheBattleSisterwerereadytobrainanyonegettingtooclosetotheecclesiarch.‘Lord InquisitorArchimedisVanLeeuwen, of theOrdoHereticus,’ theSisterFamulousannounced fromher lectern,beforepresentinghermaster: ‘CardinalAstra, PlanetaryGovernor and SectorArch-Ecclesiarch – JosephatHieronemoTraziertheThird.Stateyourbusinessandgoinpeace,LordVanLeeuwen.’‘My business,’ the inquisitor announced, his voice echoing eerily about thevaultedthronechamber,‘concernsnotjustthecardinalastrabutalsohispeople.HeisshepherdtobillionsacrosstheCrozierWorlds,guidingtheminbodyandsoul towardstheGod-Emperor’sbenevolent light.Hemustknowthatpacksofrabiddogsaretearingtheirwaythroughhisflock.’‘Itismyunderstanding…’agauntpriestsaid,steppingforward.‘The honourable Arch-Deacon Faizel Scamander,’ the Sister Famulousannounced,‘ProtectoroftheCreed.’‘…that the people look to the Emperor’s servants to protect them from suchsavageryandtheHolyOrdostorootoutthecauseofsuchdisease.’Van Leeuwen stepped forward also. He heard the creak of plate up in theelevatedgalleries.‘Don’tlectureme,sir,onmyduty,’theinquisitorsaid,‘andIshallnotlectureyouinreturnaboutyourownresponsibilities.’‘Have we not already fulfilled our responsibilities to the Inquisition?’ thecanonesssaid.‘CanonessPreceptorMaurataniaKendriss…’‘The cardinal astra,’ Kendriss continued in her heavy accent, ‘in his eternalwisdom, sent you two hundred of my Sister Dominions, to aid the OrdoHereticusinitsgoodworks.IseethatyouhavebroughtoneofmySistersbefore

me.’‘What more could you want from us?’ a portly priest with a ragged, silvertonsure and beard called out with more incredulity than, by the fearfulexpressionthatcrossedhisface,heoriginallyintended.‘VandrachGuzzman–PontifexUrbaoftheCity-Sanctus…’‘Everythingyouhave,’InquisitorVanLeeuwenseethedbackthroughhissilverfangs,‘ifIsochooseandtheMasterofMankinddemands.’Amomentofuncomfortablesilencedescendeduponthechamber.‘We did not mean to give offence, inquisitor lord,’ the cardinal astra raspedbetweenbreathsonarebreather.‘Andyou,yourholiness,didnotgiveany,’VanLeeuwensaid. ‘Formyhastywordsinthisdivineplace,Iapologisealso.’‘The physical and spiritual safety of the God-Emperor’s people has, is andalwaysshallbeofparamountimportancetoHismosttrustedservants,’CardinalTraziersaidwitheffort.‘Menlikeyou,lordinquisitor,andmenlikeme.’‘I am very pleased to hear you say that, cardinal,’ Van Leeuwen said. ‘Toaddress the canoness preceptor’s question, her Sisters do excellent workguardingartefactsofruinanddangerousxenostechnologies–keepingthemsafefromheretics,damnedsorcerersandthosecorruptedbythewarp.ButIcometoyou not to talk of a defence against the darkness, for it lays siege to theImperiumonallfronts.No,Iwishtotalktoyou–astalwartsubjectoftheGod-Emperor – about taking the fight to our enemies and carrying His light anddestructionintosuchdarkness.’‘YoutalkoftheTyrant’sturning,’thecardinalastrasaid,hisvoiceacracklingwhisper,‘andthetragediesofSectorBadab.’‘Tragediesindeed,’theinquisitorsaid,‘butfortunatelytheyaretheconcernoftheEmperor’sloyalSpaceMarinesandotherswithintheHolyOrdos.’‘Speakon.’‘TheTyrantmight have fled for the environs of the unholyMaelstrom,’VanLeeuwensaid,‘butIspeakofother…traitorswhohavelongmadetheirhomethere. A dark brotherhood that strikes from the darkness andwhose atrocitiesdemandactionfrommensuchasyouandI.’‘Bearers of the Word, your excellency,’ Confessor Karolco called up to thecardinal. ‘Perverters of the creed, spreaders of heresy and butchers of thefaithful.’‘These good brothers of the Adeptus Astartes are all that are left of theirhonoured Chapter,’ Van Leeuwen said, presenting the Space Marines of the

NovaLegion,‘nowpledgedwithmetofindingthedreadrenegadesresponsibleforsuchslaughter.Andtheyarenottheonlyones.MyresearcheshaverevealedthreeotherChapters–threeotherlightsextinguishedbythedarkness.’‘AndtheseBearersoftheWord,’CardinalTraziersaid,‘thoughIhatetoevenspeaktheirname,aretheonesresponsible.’‘Yes,mightyecclesiarch,’ConfessorKarolcosaid, ‘andmuchmorebesides. Ihavepersonallyaidedtheinquisitorinhisinterrogationsandexorcismsofsuchwarp-spawned deviants. They are a threat to everything the Imperium standsfor.’‘Theconfessordoesnotexaggerate,’VanLeeuwensaid.‘Iknowof thehistorical treachery theWordBearerscommitted,’ thecardinalastrasaid,‘andthepresent threat theyposewith theirotherworldlypacts, theirhereticalpoisonandapocalypticarts.’‘ThenyouknowthattheyroutinelysendoutshipsfromtheMaelstromtoraindestruction upon the God-Emperor-fearing planets of the Crozier Worlds andthattheymustbestopped.’‘But lord inquisitor,’ Arch-Deacon Scamander piped up, ‘surely AdeptusAstarteswarriorsliketheonespresentbeforeusarebestequippedtofightsuchanevil,astheydidduringthedarkdaysoftheHeresy.’‘TheGod-Emperor helps thosewho help themselves,’Van Leeuwen told thegathering of ecclesiarchs. ‘I have sent word to the warmasters of the AstraMilitarum,theHighAdmiralsoftheImperialNavy,theMartianpriesthoodandAdeptusAstartesChaptersacrosstheregion.Thestoryisthesame.Cardinal,itis the storyof all times.Threats fromwithinandwithout.Toomany,with toofew forces to combat them. The expansion of barbarian empires, xenosinvasions, piratical opportunism and the ever-present dangers spewed forth bytheunholyMaelstrom.’‘Indeed,’thevenerableTraziersaid.‘ThefaithfuloftheImperiummustplaytheirpart,too,’theinquisitorsaid.‘Itisnot enough towait forwildfires to appear across the storm-bordering sectors.Theinfernomustbedousedat thesource.This iswhyIhavebeentouringtheCrozier Worlds, speaking to the ruling ecclesiarchs of cardinal, shrine andcemeteryworldsaskingthemtoraisefratermilitiasandpilgrimarmies.’‘Inthenameofwhat,lordinquisitor?’thecardinalastraasked.‘AWhite Crusade, your eminence,’ Van Leeuwen told him. ‘Billions of thefighting faithful, fromHighTemperance, St Sorcha, Fleur-de-Phasmi, IgnatiusCrozier and many worlds besides. All travelling with fiery preachers along

pilgrimtrailsaswespeak,torendezvousatSuspiriaProctor.‘Fromthere,theyshalllaunchacrusadeintotheMaelstromandtakethefightto theWordBearers, theirabominatesponsorsand theircultisthordeson theirownsoil.Theyshallbethehammerthatshattersthedarkfaithofthetraitorsandputsanend,onceandforall,totheirancientthreat.‘IamclosetodiscoveringthelocationofthedreadplanetfromwhichtheWordBearers launch their raids. Even then, the frater faithful and preachers of theCrozierWorlds will not embark. For aWhite Crusade needs a figurehead. Aname,beyondtheGod-Emperor’s,togivegoodmenspiritualstrengthinthefaceof darkness. Your name, Cardinal Trazier. Only when your priests and thefighting fraters of Incandesica join us at Suspiria Proctor and your blessing isgiven,shall theWhiteCrusadebeundertakenandthedeviantWordBearersoftheMaelstrombedestroyed.’‘Ihaveneverheardsuchinsanity,’Arch-DeaconScamandersaid.‘Madness,’PontifexGuzzmanagreed.‘Youinvitetheslaughterofbillions,’thecanonesspreceptorhissed.‘Asweinvitethesame,’CardinalTraziersaid,‘ifwestandby,cowerinsideourchapels,ourchurchesanddonothing.Asthegoodinquisitorsays,wemustleadbyexample.So,LordoftheHolyOrdos.YoumaygotoSuspiriaProctor.AwaitthefraterfaithfulIwillsend.Thentellall thatJosephatHieronemoTraziertheThirdgiveshisblessingtothisWhiteCrusade–anundertakingthatreceivestheGod-Emperor’sbenedictionalso.’‘As benevolent as you are wise, cardinal astra,’ Van Leeuwen told Trazier.‘Your reputation is well deserved. And now, I take my leave.May the God-Emperorgowithyou,mightyecclesiarch.’‘Andwithyou,myson,’CardinalTraziertoldhim.

AstheinquisitorandtheAdeptusAstartesmountedtheramptoanorbitallanderbereftofidenticaandmarkings,thecraft’sthrustersengagedandstartedliftingitoff the cathedra landing pads. Leaving behind the Battle Sisters sentries anddusty priests of the palace, the lander spiralled up above the bell towers andspires,punchingaholethroughIncandesica’sspectacularlayersofcloudbeforestrikingoutforthedarknessofthevoid.‘Dissemble.’OccamtheUntrueturnedaroundinthecarriercompartment.Whiletheexteriorofthestolenlanderwasplain,theinteriorwasplush.Thescalesofhisplate,likethose of the othermembers of the Redacted, changed back to their legionary

coloursfromthepenitentblackoflongdeadSpaceMarinesoftheNovaLegionandInquisitorVanLeeuwen’sancient suit.FreydorBlatch threwoff theheavyrobesoftheexorcist,whileMinaPerditasimplytookoffherBattleSistershelm.TheAlpha Legion and their operatives felt the change as the sorcerer Quodaabandonedhiseffortsandtheauraoftelepathicmanipulationthatsurroundedtherenegades and played upon the prejudices, imaginations and expectations ofthoseobservingthem,collapsed.TheRedactedweretheInquisitorialentouragenomore.Sergeant Hasdrubal took off his refurbished helm, revealing fresh scarringacrosshisface,aneyethathadbeensurgicallysavedandabrightgreenbionicopticthatreplacedtheonethatcouldnot.Hehadn’tbeentheonlyonetobenefitfromanupgrade. In the time theRedactedhadbeen touring theplanetsof theCrozierWorlds,garneringsupportforasupposedWhiteCrusade,thewarpsmithhadreplacedtherighthandandgauntlethehadlostintheSerpent’sEggwiththebionicsofanimpressivelydextrousappendage.‘Right,’ the strike master said to the Alpha Legion renegades. ‘We haveassembledthepieces–nowitistimetoplaythegame.’

μSECONDSKIN

LordOccam’schamberswerefilledwiththesoundofhushedwhispersandthebeatingofdarkhearts.Whilethestrikecommandersatinhisthrone,deckedinplate, figuresmoved inandoutof the reconstructedChapelof the ImmaculateAscension.Hisarmourhadassumedlegionarycolours,whilehishelmsatonthearmofthethrone.GhostingaboutthedarkrecessesofthechamberwereVilniusMalik and Sergeant Hasdrubal. The legionnaires wore helms with full plate.WhileMalik cradled his long-shot plasma gun like some kind of sentinel, thesergeantstoodatease,hisgauntletrestingonthepommelofhissheathed,multi-bladeknife.Withinthechapel,chirurgeonsandmedicaeservitorswerehardatworkatthestone altar, which had been covered with transparent plastek sheeting.Whilemedical-tooled servitors cut away at the subject lying there, the chirurgeonsconsulted, pointing as their drones went to work with las-scalpels andmonomolecularchainblades.OccamknewoneofthebeardedchirurgeonstobeMina Perdita, theAssassin offering further security in the chamber. Since sheknewmoreabout taking life than saving it, the strikemasterassumed that shewasthequietfigureinsurgicalrobeslurkingneartherearofthegathering.The formon the altarwas large.Like amummified corpse recovered fromaburialsite,thefigurewassheathedinacocoon.Inplacesthematerialwasthin,likescabbyparchmentstretchedacrossthemusculatureofthefigurewithin;inothers itwas thick andhorny, formingnubs,whorls andpatterns of daemonicsuggestion. Cutting away the second skin under the instruction of thechirurgeons, who stood someway distant, themedicae-servitorsmoved abouttheevilthingundaunted.Gossamer wires ran from sensors on the husk to mobile runebanks thatmonitored the subject’s vital signs and filled the chapel with the sound of

heartbeats.Assprayswere issuedand injectionsgiven through theshellof thecocoon,theservitorscutawaymoreofthematerialfromthesubject’sface.Thesoftthunderofbeatingheartsacceleratedandtherunebanksspewedforthdata,whichthechirurgeonsconsultedwithinterest.Now that theWordBearer’s facewas revealed,Occamcouldsee thatdespitetheinfernalsuggestionofhiscocoon,thetraitorSpaceMarinewasnotanalteredunderneath.HewasasdisgustingashehadbeenwhenOccamhadfoundhim–theWordBearer’sblack,frostbittenfaceamess.Hewasnot,however,warpedby daemonic presence. The Ordo Hereticus exorcists had long driven anymonstrousentityfromtheWordBearer’sbodyandsoul.Thestrikemasterwasnot inclined to be complacent. Quoda had insisted that the chapel’s hallowedinfluencewouldgosomewaytosubduethedamnedfleshof theWordBearer.Perditawasnearby, ready toslit throatsandstabhearts.VilniusMalikand thesergeanthadorderstoputtheWordBearerdownbrutallyifheshowedsignsofdaemonic intrusion, while Autolicon Phex waited on the door to the strikemaster’schamber,hisheavyweaponryreadytobecalledupon.As theWordBearer’shandcameupsuddenly, thechirurgeonsandeven theirservitorsjumpedback.Thecocooncrackedandtoreatthemovement,allowingtheTraitorSpaceMarine tograb thewired sensors fromhis chest andkill thesoundofheartsrapidlybeating.Sittinguponthealtar,theWordBearersloughedtheencrustedsheathofflikeasecondskin.Occamfoundhimselfupoutofhisthrone.Malikandthesergeantclosedin,whilethechirurgeonthestrikemastersuspectedwasPerditapushedhiswaythroughhisstartledcolleagues.TheWordBearergloweredabout the interiorof thechapel, thewhitesofhiseyeswrithingintheblackruinofhisface.Hewasclearlynotcomfortable,hisfrost-witheredlipsretractingabouthisteeth.Hestareddownathisnakedbodyandgrabbedathischest,as thoughmissingthedamnationofhisplate.Occamnarrowedhiseyes,watchingtheWordBearer.Itseemedsomethingmoretothestrikemaster.As though theTraitorSpaceMarinewasmissingmore than justhisarmour.Finally, theWordBearer lookedaround,prompting themedicae staff tobackawayeven further.Thenhisgaze settledonOccam, flankedbyMalikand thesergeant.While themuzzle ofMalik’s glowing plasma gunwas aimed at theWordBearer,Hasdrubalmerelystaredbackattheprisoner,hisgauntletgraspedaboutthehiltofhismulti-blade.TheWordBearergruntedhisderision.‘Serpents…’

‘Serpentsthatsavedyourlife,’Maliksaiddangerously,staringdownthelengthofhisaimedweapon.‘Anddon’tforgetthat.’‘Wherearewe?’theWordBearerdemandedwiththeimperiousnessofazealot.Occamandthesergeantfrowned.Thephrasingofthequestionsoundedodd.‘Youare…’Occamsaid,‘aboardmyvessel–asaguest.Mylegionnaireherespeakstrue.YouwereaprisoneroftheHolyOrdos.’‘Andnowweareguests,’theWordBearersaid,‘oftheAlphaLegion.’‘Honoured…guests,’Occamtoldhim,pickingupontheWordBearer’sstrangewayofreferringtohimself.Heturnedtothegathering.‘Robesandwater–forourhonouredguests.’Servitorsbrought robes for theWordBearer, a carafeofwater anda chalice.The Traitor Space Marine looked suspiciously between the offerings and thestrikemaster.ThistimeitwasHasdrubal’sturntogrunthisderision.‘Ifwehadwantedit,youwouldbedeadalready,’OccamtoldtheWordBearer.‘Wemightbeserpents,brother,butyouneedfearnopoisonfromus.’TheWordBearerignoredtheofferedchaliceandtookthecarafe,downingthecontents. Gesturing for another, he drank deep: his time as an Inquisitorialprisoner combined with time spent cocooned against the elements, or lackthereof,hadvisitedupon theTraitorSpaceMarineamighty thirst.Thencametherobes,andhistoesreachedtentativelyforthedeck.Helookeddownatthealtarandaroundat thecrumblingarchitectureoftheChapeloftheImmaculateAscension.Hiseyesfixeduponthehexagrammicwardsadorningtheflags,thepurity seals carved into the stone of the altar, holy scripture and sigils ofprotectionandbanishment.‘Anattemptathumour?’thedamnedSpaceMarinesaid.‘No,’ Lord Occam said. ‘It is meant for the solace of the faithful – not theamusementofheretics.ThatseemedtobelostonyouwhenyourvesselbroughtitsapocalypticthundertotheCanticulashrineworld.’‘Itseemsyoumissedone,’Hasdrubalsaid,gesturingtotheruinsofthechapel.‘Now,let’sbegin,’Occamsaid,movingtowardstheWordBearer.‘Howaboutyournameandrank?’‘Youthinkusafraidtorevealsuchdetails,’theWordBearersaid.‘Youthinkussome terrified soldier, obeying orders and saying nothing to withstandinterrogation?I’lltellyoufreely,asItoldtheEmperor’spigs,thenamesofthosethatcostthemtheirlives.’‘Praydo,’Occamsaid.‘IamGouraShengk,’theWordBearertoldhim,‘DarkApostleoftheBarbed

OathandspiritualleaderoftheVargaRax,thosewarp-temperedofflesh.’‘And…’Occamsaid,sensingmore.‘MorphidaxthePrimordial.’‘If Imaymake an observation,’ Sergeant Hasdrubal said, ‘you speakwith aprideanddefianceill-befittingyourpresentcircumstances.’‘Andyouspeaklikealegionnaireoflittleunderstanding,’GouraShengksaid.‘Awarriorwithexperiencecleavingfleshasunderbutwithlittlecomprehensionofthedarknessoperatingwithin.’‘Enough,’Occamcommanded. ‘Lord apostle –PrimordialOne– the truthofthematter is that we find you far from home, at the mercy of your Imperialenemiesandabandonedbythoseyouwouldcallbrother.’‘Truth?’GouraShengksaid.‘WhatwouldtheAlphaLegionknowoftruth?’‘Morethanyouwouldthink,’SergeantHasdrubalwarnedtheWordBearer.‘Your brotherhood abandoned you,’Occam accused. ‘The traitors under yourcommand.’‘Again,’GouraShengksaid,‘youthinkyoucanmanipulateuswithdetailshalfunderstood.Those brothers obeyed our orders. They have a thousand decrees,preceptsandcommandments tofollowfroma thousanddark tomes–and theyfollowedthemtotheletter.ThereisnowedgetobeforcedbetweentheBearersoftheWord.Thedutywascarriedout.Oursacrificeensuredsuccess.’‘Buttheyleftyou,’Occampressed.‘FailureisnottoleratedintheranksoftheDarkBrotherhoodandtheDaemonCouncilisnotforgiving.’‘Youhaveanewbrotherhoodnow,’thesergeantsaid.‘Anewduty–tous,yoursaviours.’‘Think not to threaten us,’ Goura Shengk told Hasdrubal. ‘We share thisdelicate vessel, thismiserable flesh –warping it for our own amusement andpurpose.Youreallythinkwecarewhatyoudotoitwithyourpaltryblades?Youputtoomuchfaithinyourskillandarazor’sedge.’‘Youcanneverputtoomuchfaithinthat,’Hasdrubaltoldhim.‘But you don’t share that vessel, lord apostle,’ Occam said, confronting theWordBearerwiththerealityofhispredicament.‘Yourfleshishomebuttoonepresence.The Inquisition exorcists saw to that.Your daemon– the entity youlive to appease – is gone. Banished to the beyond. You are alone, GouraShengk–butitneednotbeso.’TheDarkApostleseemedtoconsiderOccam’swords.‘Wewillnotjoinyou,’GouraShengksaid,‘andyourbandoffaithlesstraitors.’

‘Wearefarfromfaithless,lordapostle,’thestrikemastersaid.‘Besides–Iamnotrecruiting.’‘We set you at liberty, you thankless wretch,’ Hasdrubal reminded theWordBearer.‘Thisdoesnotlooklikefreedom,’Shengksaid.‘And it isn’t,’ Occam assured him. ‘Your flesh is your prison. I offer yousomethingelse.Awayback–toyourbrothers,toyourhome,toyourdaemon.’‘Topunishmentforourfailures.’‘Betterthanaboltroundtotheskull,’thesergeantassuredhim.‘Whichiswhatyouwouldbefacingamongournumber.’‘AndwhywouldtheAlphaLegionwishsuchkindnessesuponabrotheroftheWord?’GouraShengkasked.‘Wesharecommongoals,’OccamtheUntruetoldhim.‘Youspeakofanalliance.’‘Ispeakofanexchange,’thestrikemastersaid.‘Weshalltakeyoubacktoyourdaemon world, lord apostle, to rejoin your Legion, your brothers and yourdarkness.Tofaceyourpunishmentandbegforforgiveness.’‘TakeustoGhalmek?’GouraShengksaid.‘TheDaemonforge?TheShrineofIron?Youcouldneverreachsuchanunholyplace.TheMaelstromwouldchewyourvesselupandspityouout.’‘Thatiswhyweneedyourguidance,’Occamtoldhim.‘Whatdoyouwantwiththedaemonworld?’‘Truth?’thestrikemasterasked.‘We’renotsureyoucanmanageit,’theWordBearertoldhim.‘TheartefactyourtraitorsstolefromNemesisSpectra,’LordOccamsaid.‘WhatdoyouwantwiththeSlaughterlord?’‘TheSlaughterlord?’‘The daemon Kar’Nash’gahar,’ the Dark Apostle said, ‘Lord of GloriousSlaughter and Slayer of Worlds. The infernal volumes of the DaedronicronMalefest foretoldofhiscoming.That thosewhofreedhimfromimprisonmentcouldcountonhisthunderinthetrialstocome.’‘Andyouseektoengagethisdaemon’sthunder?’Occamasked.‘Youdon’t?’‘Wecarenothingforyourdustytomesandtheirprophecies,’thestrikemasterpromised.‘TheAlphaLegiondealinthehereandthenow.Weseektheancienttechnologythatholdsyourranciddaemon–andthatisall.Keepyourmonstrousentityandthedoomhebringsbutgiveusthetechnology,inexchangeforyour

life.’‘Wedonotbelieveyou,’GouraShengksaid.‘Besides,theGrandApostle,theDaemonCouncil and theBrotherhood of theDarkWordwill never barter forsuch a prize. Its dread promisewill only just have reachedUnholyGhalmek.Whyshouldtheygiveitup?’‘Icanbepersuasive.’‘You will be dead,’ Goura Shengk said. ‘The Grand Apostle will have youstellafied–yourhandsandfeetnailedtothehalf-pointsofaChaosStar–whileyouslowlyroastinthelightofGhalmek’sblood-redsun.’‘LeavetheGrandApostletome,’Occamassuredhim.‘ThenIshallkillyoumyself,’theWordBearerpromised.‘Wearenotlikeyou,faithlesslegionnaire.Ourwordmeanssomething–inthisexistenceandtheonebeyond.Wewill not betray our brotherhood or give up our prize.Our namesshall be carved into the mighty Animus, atop theMalevolent Mount, craftedfromtheblackstoneofathousandtemplesfallen.’‘No,’Occamtoldhim.‘Itwillbeforgotten.YourprizewillbedeliveredtotheShrine of Iron by another. It will be his name that will adorn this monstrousmonumentyouspeakof.Whoknows,GouraShengk–perhapsyoursuccessorwillberewardedwithadaemonofhisown.Perhapsaneternityistoolongforyourowndaemontowaitandhewillfavouranotherwithhispresence.’‘Youarewrong,’GouraShengksaid.‘ImighthavefailedbutmyFirstAcolyteandcaptains,inturn,failedme.Theyreturntopunishment–asisdecreed.’‘Aye,theyreturn–asdecreed,’Occamsaid.‘Asyoumust,GouraShengk.’‘Iwillnotbegoaded,serpent,’thelordapostlesaid.‘Thenbepersuaded,’Occam theUntrueurged. ‘Bebribedandboughtwithafuture that awaits you.Whatever appeases your dark soul.Wewant not yourdaemon prize,Word Bearer – only the artefact prison that holds him. If youwould die rather than deal for yourself, then bargain for the benefit of yourbrothers.’‘WhatcanyoupossiblyoffertheDaemonCouncil?’‘Theonlycurrencyyourdreadcouncildealsin,’Occamsaid:‘souls.Wemightbesmallinnumberbutourreachisfar.ForweeksnowwehavebeentouringtheCrozierWorlds–aregionthatknowsthewrathoftheWordBearerswell.’‘Youknowitdoes,’GouraShengksaid.‘DisguisedastheveryInquisitionauthoritiesyourdaemonshiphitonNemesisSpectra and who, in turn, enjoyed your company on Fifty-Four-Thermia, wehavebeentakingmeetingswiththerulingecclesiarchsthere.’

‘Andwhywouldyoudothat?’‘Recruitment,lordapostle,’OccamtheUntruetoldhim.‘TheWordBearersofGhalmek and the apocalyptic attacks of their ungodly daemon ships are to betolerated no longer. There is to be aWhiteCrusade – a holywar the likes ofwhichyouhaveneverseen,tobewagedagainstyourdarkbrotherhood.Itwillfindyourdaemonworldanddestroyyouthere.’‘Snake…’Goura Shengk spat. ‘You applaud your own efforts and place toomuch faith in the Corpse-Emperor’s weakling priests. Such human frailty isnothingcomparedtothedaemonlegionsthatfightfortheDarkBrotherhood.’‘Perhaps,’thestrikemastersaid,‘butentertainthisthought,foramoment.SuchaforceexistsandisamassinginanundisclosedlocationintheCrozierWorldsaswe speak. I have sent my Low Servant and his cultists to meet each pilgrimtransportas it arrives fromdifferentpartsof theCrozierWorldsandbegin theprocess of infiltration. Naturally, my operatives intend to recruit the mostpromising of the frater militia for the Alpha Legion’s ranks. The rest, lordapostle,canbeyours.Adevoutarmyofthefaithful,corruptedtothewillofyourDaemonCouncil before frater ships ever set sail for theMaelstrom.A billionsouls,deliveredstraighttotheShrineofIron.EnougheventosatisfythewrathofyourDaemonCouncil.‘Thinkonit,WordBearer.Butdon’ttaketoolong.Ididnotbreakyououtofthat ice hole for nothing – but if it is nothing that you offer me then I’ll bedamnedbeforeIletyouseeyourdaemonoryourdaemonworldagain.’Occamnodded, bringingVilniusMalik forward.Theplasmagunhummed toprimingasthelegionnaireaimeditatGouraShengk.ItbathedWordBearerandlegionnairebothinitsbluebrilliance.‘Damnationoroblivion,’Occamsaid.‘Youchoose.Butchoosenow.’After a proud delay that made Sergeant Hasdrubal smirk, the Dark Apostleanswered.‘I cannot in dark conscience,’ Goura Shengk said, ‘deal doubly with theDaemonCouncil.IhavetakenoathsbeforetheRuinousPowers.Myheartsareenslaved to their dread will. It is not in my power to betray them or theirinterestsinthenameofsavingmymiserablelife.’OccamheardMalik’splatecreakas thelegionnaire leanedinwithhisplasmagun.‘However,’ the Dark Apostle said. ‘There will be ceremony and ritual toobserveuponourarrivalatGhalmek.Thisdistractionmightofferaresourcefulindividualtimetoliftanancientartefactfromourcatacomb-archivesunnoticed,

ifhewerepointedintherightdirection.’Lord Occam placed his gauntlet on the barrel of Malik’s plasma gun andlowereditslowlytowardsthefloor.‘Goodenough.’

PARTIV

THETHINVEIL

νSEASERPENTS

OccampacedthetinycommanddeckoftheIota-Æternus.The strike master could feel it on the bridge, in the hangars and along thefreighter’swindingpassageways.Therewasatension–notjustinthefacesandvoicesoftheSeventhSonsbutalsointhevesselsuperstructure.WhiletheHighSerpent’s cultists were nervous about entering riftspace, the Q-ship itself wasmakingitsdispleasureknown.Occam’ssuperhumanhearingpickedupthehigh-pitched ring of unnatural vibrations throughmetal struts, girders and decking.Likeatuningfork,theIota-Æternuswassinging,andthetunewasn’tpleasant.TheQ-shiphadheldherimmaterialcoursefordays,ploughingonthroughthestorm-wracked ether and thewarped reality beyond.WhileArkanReznor hadmade many upgrades and customisations to the vessel, incorporating xenostechnologies into the sub-light drives andweapons systems, thewarp enginesand Geller field generator were thoroughly Imperial. Reliably old, the fieldgenerator andwarp drive had never failedNaga-Khan and theAlpha Legion.Reznor and the shipmaster’s own enginseer both considered themdependable.Thewarpenginesandintegratedfieldgeneratorhadneverbeenundersomuchstressbefore,however.StrikingoutfromtheCrozierWorlds,theIota-ÆternusmadefortheaberranceoftheMaelstrom.AtGouraShengk’sinstruction,theQ-shipenteredtheragingstorm at the SinistralGate. Thiswas an area of calm favoured by pirates andrenegades striking out from theMaelstrom. Shengk insisted that his personaldaemonship,theDissolutioPerpetua,usedtheSinistralGateforslippingoutofthe warp storm and running down on the Crozier Worlds and the fabricatormoonsoftheKoronadoCradle.From there Quoda’s choir of astropaths begged permission to retire to theirquarters,insistingtheyweresufferingmind-splittingheadachesandthefactthat

the sorcerer couldn’t rely on their abilities in the storm.Quoda andNavigatorGhesh,meanwhile,tookonahauntedlookasthefreightertraversedthevicioustempest.Itdidn’tneedapsykertofeeltherancideffectoftheMaelstromonthevessel. A wave of lingering nausea swept through the cultist crew, like anextremeformofmotionsickness,andevenOccamfeltsomethinghorribleinthepitofhisstomachs.Skimming through the tumultuous mayhem of the Maelstrom, the freightermade short warp jumps interspaced with storm-running cruises at sub-lightspeed.Naga-KhanandGheshwouldn’triskengagingthewarp-drivefortoolongwithin the storm for fear of plunging into its monstrous heart. Naga-Khanwarnedthestrikemasterthattheycouldendupgettinghopelesslylost,emergeon the other side of the galaxy, become trapped in some kind of temporaldistortionorbetornapartuponemergingintoaregionoftheMaelstromwhererealitywasstorm-shredded–fusedwiththestrangeweatheroftheimmaterium.TheGellerfieldwasoperatingconstantly,withArkanReznor stationedin theenginariumtodealimmediatelywithanyproblems–suchproblemshavingthepotentialtopresentthedefencelessvesseltotheinnumerableimmaterialentitiesand predatory daemons like bloodybait to a swarmof sharks.Every time thewarp-drivedisengagedand thesub-lightengines foundpurchase in thestrangeandvaried realities the Iota-Æternus found itself in, theGeller field generatorstruggled, causing the field to momentarily flutter. In those heart-stoppingseconds, the cultist crew andmembers of theRedactedwould stopwhat theyweredoingandlookaroundwarilyatthebriefdimmingofthedecklights.For Ghesh the Navigator skimming through the storm in this way was likeflashing a lamp on occasionally in the darkness and describing to theirWordBearersguestwhathesaw.Naga-KhanwouldthencoursecorrectbasedupontheDark Apostle’s recognition of the different streams, eddies and tempestphenomenaheexpectedtoencounter.Unlike Occam’s legionnaires, operatives and cultist crew, Goura Shengkseemedperfectlyatease.Lookinglikeasmallmountainwrappedinrobes, theDarkApostle staredout through the lancet screens into thehavocbeyond, hiseyes and teeth white in his blackened face. While the Word Bearer hadconsented toassist the strikemaster inhisproudand limitedway,OccamstillhadVilniusMalikghosthim,watchingovertheformerprisonerfromadistance,his long-shotplasmagunat the ready.Asanextraprecaution,AutoliconPhexstoodguardbytheelevatordoorwithhisheavyplasmagun.EphronHasdrubalwas present also, never far away from theDarkApostle, even thoughOccam

hadn’tissuedthesergeantwithsuchaduty.For the most part, Occam stood to one side. He was in command but theresponsibilityofgettingtheIota-ÆternusthroughthedangersoftheMaelstromlargelybelongedtotheshipmaster,NavigatorGhesh,thewarpsmithandGouraShengk. While Reznor kept in contact from the enginarium and Naga-Khanoversawmattersonthetensebridge,theDarkApostleinterpretedthemonstrousphenomenaoutsidetheship.GouraShengkhadnamesforfeaturesdescribedbytheashen-facedGhesh,bothoccurringinthewarpandtheconfusedrealitiesofthe storm traversed by the Q-ship – the Ghostmare, the Storm ofMaws, theVassagoStream,Perdition’sGate,thePhorneusRapidity…BeyondtheMaelstromandthestorm’snightmarishenvirons,OccamcouldseethespectralimpressionofpredatorywarpentitiesandmonstrousdaemonsinthesizzlingGellerfield.Theywereaconstantpresence,testingtheintegrityofthefieldandpressingtheirmind-scaldingformsupagainstthebubbleofrealitythatenvelopedtheIota-Æternus.‘Identify,’Occamordered.Hiseyesfixeduponahorrificcyclonechurninguptheimmaterialityaboutit.LikeJupiter’sgreatredspotitwasablood-redstormragingwithinthehavocofothertempests,warpstreamsandcurrents.Acrimsonhazespewedcontinuouslyfromitsabominatemouth,castingeverythingarounditinobscurity.Asitwashedupagainstthelancetscreens,thestrikemastersawthat thehazewasmadeupof tinyglobulesof rich, red liquid that lookedverymuchlikeblood.‘TheMawtex,’GouraShengksaid.EventheWordBearerlookedconcernedattheappearance.‘Astormwithinthestormthatappearsanddisappearsatwhim.’‘Ghesh?’Occamsaid.‘It’s deep,’ theNavigator said, entranced. ‘Bottomless. Its currents are strongbutthestructurevolatile.’‘Evenwedon’triskourvesselsintheMawtex,’theWordBearersaid.‘Therearepiratesandrenegadeswhodo,however,usingittotraversetheMaelstrom.’‘Yourorders?’Naga-Khansaid.OccamlookedtoGouraShengk.‘Therearesaferroutes,’theDarkApostlesaid.Thestrikemastergruntedathisuseofthewordsafer.‘Skirtit.’AstheQ-shippushedonthroughthehaze, thevesselbecamesubmergedinabackwash of cloudy blood, the twisted wreckage of storm-smashed vesselsthunkedagainstthehull.‘Ican’tseeanything,’Naga-Khancomplained,movingbetweencultist-manned

runebanks.‘Augurs.’‘Notfunctional,’oneoftheSeventhSonsreported.Occam stared into the redmist.Within theMaelstrom the scanners returnedwarped readings, phantasmic traces andevidenceof the impossible.Here theydidn’tevenreturnthat.‘It’s theMawtex,’ theDarkApostlesaid.‘Yourinstrumentation’sreadingsarebeingdrownedout.’‘Bywhat?’thestrikemasterasked.‘Openashort-wavevox-channel,’GouraShengksaid.‘Whatchannel?’theshipmasterasked.‘Anychannel,’theWordBearersaid.AsNaga-Khan put the channel on loudhailers, the command deckwas filledwithanunearthlyroar.Thecrew’sfacescreased inanerve-shreddedwince.ASeventh Son screamed out while several others vomited onto the deck. ToOccam it was an annoyance but a loud and insistent one. He didn’t knowwhetherornot itwassomecolossaldaemonentityof theunnaturalfluxof thestorm that created the sound but he knew that he didn’twant to listen to anymoreofitsfuriousmadness.‘Enough,’ he commanded, prompting adeckofficer tokill the loudhailer.Helooked from the red lancet screens to SergeantHasdrubal and the shipmaster.‘Blindanddeaf.We’renotevenabletofeelourwaythroughthismuck.Status?’‘We’re runningwithshields raised,’Naga-Khan toldhim, trying toassure thestrikemasterthatprecautionshadbeentaken,‘andbatteriesprimed.’Occamwasn’tconvinced.ThiswastheMaelstrom:anythingcouldhappen.‘Allstop,’hecommanded.‘Allstop,’theshipmasterrepeatedtothecommanddeckcrew.‘Roll aside the compartment doors,’ the strike master said, ‘and presentcannons.’‘Sir,’Naga-Khanprotested,‘aren’twegivingaway–’‘Doit,’Occamsaid.Withoutquestion, theshipmastercarriedout theorder.As theQ-shipslowed,the cloud of red globules settled about the lancet screens. A metallic boomreverberated down the length of the armed freighter as plating rolled aside torevealthehiddenbatteriesintheconvertedcargosections.‘Cyclepict-streams,’Naga-Khanordered.Occamnoddedhisagreement.Asthelancetscreenscrackledfromforwardtoaft,porttostarboardviews,thesameredobscurityfoggedupeveryangle.

Occamcameforward,peeringthroughtheredmurk.Astheviewscycled, thestrikemasterlookedforsomethingbutfoundnothing.OccamturnedaroundtofindGouraShengkdoingthesame.Meanwhile,thecommanddeckcrewwaitedpatiently.‘Sir?’SergeantHasdrubalsaid.‘ItappearsIhavemadeanerror,’Occamsaidfinally.‘Itdoesn’thappenoften,mylord,’Naga-Khansaid.‘Shipmaster,’ Occam said, ‘stand down the batteries and prepare to makeway…’Occam’svoicetrailedoffastheport-sidepict-feedrevealedadisturbanceinthebloody globules and then the ghostly silhouette of a vessel. The strikemastercouldmakeoutthereinforcedprowofaChaosraider.Theshipwasdirtyredandblack, bearing colossal sigils splattered unceremoniously across its armourplating. The vessel had clearly seen recent action, its hull pock-marked withblastcratersandtheraggeddamageofcannonfire.‘Enemyvessel,’Naga-Khancalledout, ‘approachingport-sideaftat rammingspeed.’‘Asyouwere,’Occamsaid.‘Port-sidebatteries, fireasyoubear,’Naga-Khancommanded,stabbingat thebuttonsonarunebankandopeningachannelwiththegundecks.Occamwatchedascannonbeamslituptheredobscurityofthebloodhaze.Theencounterwastooclosetorelyuponvoidshielding,andthickstreamsofenergytore into theattackingvessel’sprowatalmostpoint-blank range.Witha flash,theypunchedthroughthereinforcedarmourplatingandblazedalongthelengthoftheraider.‘Standbyforimpact!’theshipmasterannounced.Occamgrabbedfor thepulpitwithagauntletandengagedthemagneticsolesonhisarmouredboots.TheQ-shiphadrippedthroughtheChaosraider,turningits decks into a blizzard of light and destruction before blasting the vessel’sengineeringsectionoutthroughitsaft.Theraiderattemptedalastmomentevasivemanoeuvre,onlytosmashintothesideoftheIota-Æternus.Asthecultistdeckcrewwereknockedfromtheirfeetandcradles,Occamkepthisbalance,hisbootslockedtothedeck.Withinmoments, the fatmuzzleofMalik’s plasmagunwaspressedbetweenGouraShengk’sshoulderblades.SergeantHasdrubal’smulti-bladewasclearofitssheathandagainsttheWordBearer’sthroat.‘Leadingusintoanambush,brother?’HasdrubalputtotheDarkApostle.

‘They’renotWordBearers,’GouraShengksaid.‘Cyclepict-streams,’thestrikemasterordered.Asthelancetscreensleftthesceneofdestructionandcrackledtostarboard,thebridge was greeted with evidence of another attack. The reinforced prow ofanotherraider,itshullsmearedredandblackandcoveredwithspiderysigilsandblasphemous decoration.Therewas no time for a response from the batteries.TheChaosraiderslammedintothestarboardflankoftheIota-Æternus.Runebankssparked.Thelancetscreenscrackled.Decklampsflickered.Occamlookedbackatthefeed.Theraiderhadhitthemamidships,rammingintotheirside. Bulldozing the armed freighter with inertial certainty through the bloodcloud,theChaosraiderploughedonatmaximumsub-lightspeed.‘Is the hull breached?’ Occam called through the emergency lighting andklaxons. Righting himself, Naga-Khan repeated the question through the vox-systemtoengineering.‘Not according to any of my feeds down here,’ Arkan Reznor called back.‘Integrityandenvironmentalsaremaintained.’‘ThanktheGod-Emperor,’theshipmastersaid.‘We have damage to the starboard batteries, however,’ Reznor informed thestrikecommander.‘Power?’Naga-Khansaid,eagertofireupontherammingvessel.‘I would not advise priming weaponry on such decks,’ Reznor said. ‘Withdamagedweaponry,wearemorelikelytovisitfurtherdamageonourselves.’‘Gellerfield?’Occamcalled.‘Holding.’‘TheyarepushingusintotheMawtex,’thestrikemasterobserved.‘Engines?’‘Won’tbeenough,’Naga-Khantoldhimhonestly.Occamunderstood.TheMawtexwashuge.Evenwithforwardmovement,therammingvesselwouldstilldrivethemintothegapingmawofthebloodstorm.Occammoved towards the elevator doors. ‘Sergeant,Malik, with me. Phex,takecareofourguest.Shipmaster,readytheIota-Æternustorepelboarders.’While Reznor made his damage report and Naga-Khan sent word across allsections for the Seventh Sons to repair to the gun decks ready to resist aboardingaction,AutoliconPhexgrabbedShengk’sshoulderfrombehindwithagauntlet. Supporting his heavy plasma gun with the other, he aimed it at theWordBearer’sback.Snatchingmelta bombs from the legionnaire’s belt, Occammarched towardstheelevatordoors,flankedbyMalikandhissergeant.

‘What’stheplan?’thesorcererQuodacalledoutfromstrategium.‘Wearegoing to introduceourselves to theenemycaptain,’ the strikemastertoldhim.

Occam’s boots hammered along the passageway. Followed by SergeantHasdrubalandMalik,hemadehiswaytothefreighter’sthoraxsection.AseaofSeventhSonspartedforthemastheyrantotheirstations,bathedinemergencylight.WhileMalikalreadyhadhisplasmagun,twocultistswaitedbythethoraxsection bulkhead with the sergeant and strike master’s weapons. With theirshaved,tattooedheadsdownandplasmagunsoffered,theSeventhSonsstoodtooneside,allowingthelegionnairestosnatchtheweaponsoutof theirhandsastheyranby.‘Thorax airlock,’ Occam called across his suit’s vox-channel, ‘starboard-central.’‘Standing by,’ CarcinusQuoda returned fromwhere hewas stationed on thecommanddeck.As Occam and his legionnaires reached the airlock, they threw themselvesthroughseveralantechambers,areceivingchamberandanopenbulkhead.Insidethelock,Hasdrubalwenttoworksecuringthepressurebulkheadandsealingthecompartmentfromtherestoftheship.ThelastthingtheIota-Æternusneededinthemiddleofanattackwasanaccidentaldepressurisation.‘Ready,’OccamputtoMalikandhissergeant.Thepairhuggedtheirweaponsincloseandfellinbehindtheirstrikecommander.Occampositionedhimselfinfrontoftheairlockdoor.‘Purge.’AsQuodapopped the lock from thebridge, theairexplosivelyevacuated thechamber, blasting the three members of the Alpha Legion out into thedreadspaceof theMaelstrom.EverythingbecameakaleidoscopicnightmareasOccam and his renegades tumbled through the haze of blood globules andafflictedvoid.Astheyshotacrossthedistancebetweenthetwovessels,Occamcould see the damage that the ramming action had done to the Iota-Æternus’starboardflankandweaponry.Throughthebloodymurk,thestrikemastersawtheblazeoftheattackingvessel’ssub-lightengines.Withitsarmouredprowstillresting against the smashed section of hull, the raider intended on driving thearmedfreighterintotheMawtex.For a moment, everything became immaterial fury, spectral claw and maw.LeavingtheGellerfieldsurroundingtheIota-Æternusandenteringthepocketofrancid reality protecting the Chaos raider, for a secondOccam and hisAlpha

Legionrenegadeswereatthephysicalandspiritualmercyofdaemons.Horrificdenizensofthewarpstormswarmedaboutthem,drawnlikemothstotheflameofthelegionnaires’mortalexistence.Occam’sauto-sensesregisteredtheiralarmasbeastsofthebeyondmovedinwithtalons,tentaclesanddaggeredjaws.Hishearts thundered in his chest.Amoment later itwas over, as they entered theaegisoftheothership.The legionnaires tumbled along the length of theChaos raider, over baroquemouth-muzzled turrets and monstrous chains that criss-crossed the ruinousobscenitiesplasteredacross the redandblackhull.Hurtling towards the towerandcommanddeckssituated towards theaftof thevessel,Occamreachedoutfor augur arrays, ether vanes and trailing chains that enveloped the ship.Smashing through arrays and snapping vanes with his tumbling velocity, thestrikemaster reachedoutand locked thehydraulicsofhis suit’spoweredarm.Withhisgauntletgraspingthelinks,Occamallowedhisgriptorunforawhile–slowing him down, before locking onto the chain and allowing the bundledservosandhydraulicsofhisplatetosoakuptherecoil.Driftingwiththeforceoftheraider’sacceleration,thestrikemasterproceededtohaulhimselfarmoverarmupthelengthofchain.AshereachedthehulloftheChaosship,hefoundthatMalikhadlockedontothesamelengthofchain,whileSergeantHasdrubal hadmanaged to anchor himself to a smashed augurarray.Mag-locking the solesof theirboots to thehull, theAlphaLegionnairesmade theirway towards the cathedralesque lancet ports of the raider’s bridge.Like the rest of the vessel, the command deck had received amauling.Battledamage had left the section a mess of twisted scrap and ugly repairs. Portsnearest thedamagewere scorchedblack,withcolossal cracks running throughthearmourplas.Remainingconcealed,Occampeeredinside.Thebridgebeyondwascramped,like that of the Iota-Æternus, andbathed in emergency lighting.Servitors andpiratecrewhadbeenbrutallyinterfacedwiththeirstationcradlesandrunebanks.Cabling and spiked chains draped from the ceiling and ran across the deck.Groupsofpiraticalraidersweregatheredaboutthebridgelikethemembersofahive gang staking out their territory, sitting on railings and leaning againstburned-outrunebanks.Theirfleshwasabattlegroundofwarp-ravagedafflictionand ritual scarification, the symbols of Dark Gods cut into their mangledfeatures.Occamcasthiscyclingopticsacrossthecommanddeck.Whiletheinterfaceddeckcrewsufferedinsilence,theMaelstrompirateswereroaringtheirinsanity

andjubilationathavingrammedtheIota-Æternus.Thenhesawit.Thepirateswere not alone. They were not even in command. Occam made out thenightmareshapesofpower-armouredfigures.Hunchedin thefilthycrimsonoftheirplate,theirsuitsweredecoratedwithhanginghooks,chainsandmailskirts.GouraShengkwas right.ThesewerenotBearersof theWord.Scoredbrutallyinto theirceramite, therenegadeswore thesigilof theTyrantofBadab.Thesepirateshaunted the immaterialhavocof theMaelstrom,preyingon thevesselslostwithinandraidingImperialshippinginthesub-sectorssurroundingthewarpstorm. Occam could see that the ramshackle bridge still bore signs of battledamage,possiblyfromengagementsofsecessionastheTyrantledthemfromthelightoftheEmperor’sbenevolenceintothedarknessofself-servingheresy.‘RedCorsairs, out ofHell’s Iris,’Occam told his legionnaires across the suitvox. Magnetically anchored to the hull with every step, the strike masterpresentedhimself–walkingoutbeforethegreatlancetwindows.HewasjoinedbyVilniusMalikandSergeantHasdrubal,theirplasmagunsprimedandaimedat the ports. ‘They have embraced heresy – let them feel the embrace of thestormthatfollows.’Within, the vessel’s captain stood up from his pulpit throne as he saw theimpossible.AlphaLegionSpaceMarines,standingontheexteriorhull,pointingtheir weapons at the armourplas of the bridge viewports. The Red Corsairscaptainwasdrapedinthreadbarefursandhadapatchrivetedacrossoneofhishelm optics. On a brazen chain attached to the deck the captain restrained agrotesquehoundofredscale,daemonfangandclaw.Withitsspikedhacklesupandleatheryfrillsprung,themonstersnarledattheintrudersitsawthroughthetoweringlancetports.Pullingonthetrigger,Occampumpedablastofplasmaatthearmourplas.Thesphereofraginghydrogensailedthroughthevoidandstruckthedamagedportwith a flash. A molten blaze spread out from the site of impact and searedthrough thespiderycracks in theplas.Beyond, thestrikemastercouldsee theconfusionandhorrorofthebridge.Piratesscrambledinstinctivelybackfromthelancet ports while the Red Corsairs moved aggressively forward with theirboltguns.Astheplasmabrokethrough,burningaholethroughthethickplas,thebridgeoftheraiderevacuated.Airrushedfromtheholeandastormofsuctionpassedthroughthecommanddeck,knockingpiratesoff theirfeet.Clawingforanything, they were torn from handholds and dragged across the chamber.Smashing through the railings and runebanks, broken bodies flew at thebreachedlancetscreen.

AsMalikandSergeantHasdrubalopenedupsimilarholes inothercommanddeckwindows, a hail of bodieswas sucked towards themwith the evacuatingatmosphere.When the force of the bodies hit the breach, the lancet windowsshattered.Anythingnotsecuredwasshotoutintothevoid,pastOccamandhistwo legionnaires. Data-slates. Servo-skulls. Servitors torn from their interfacecradles.Pirates.EvenRedCorsairswhohadfailedtoanchorthemselvesintime.ThestreamofsoulsshotawayfromtheChaosraider,passingoutofthesheathof reality protecting the vessel, and the Tyrant’s chosen became a feast forthousandsofswarmingwarpentities.Withthelancetportsgone,Occamjoinedhislegionnairesinshootingblazingballsofplasmaintothebridge.Smackingsuchblastsintorunebanksandbridgearchitecture, the Alpha Legion advanced. While several Red Corsairs hadmanagedtoanchorthemselves,theyhadbeencaughtoffguard.Theappearanceof the Alpha Legion, the evacuation of the chamber, and the zero-gravityenvironment they suddenly found themselves in,madedemandson thepiratesthatOccamwasonlytoowillingtoexploit.With the howling storm of atmospheric evacuation gone, the strike masterclumpedhismag-lockedwayinthroughtheshatteredlancetportandacrossthecommand deck. Using runebanks as cover, the Redacted advanced, feverishlyblazingawaywiththeirplasmagunsatanythingthatmoved.Everythingseemedtomoveinsilenceandslowmotion.Wildboltfirerocketedacrossthebridgeatthelegionnaires.Thestrikemastertookbriefcover,avoidingtheworstofthegunfire,withseveralboltstakingapartarunebankandanotherglancingoffhispauldron.ZeroinginonthepositionsofremainingRedCorsairs,Occamburned a hole straight through a renegade struggling in the absenceofgravity.Hasdrubalturnedarunebankintoamoltenmessofdribblingmetalwithrepeatedblastsofhisplasmagun,forcingaRedCorsairoutofhiding.Malikwasready with his own long-shot weapon, putting a sizzling globe of sub-atomichydrogenstraightintothesideoftheRedCorsair’shelmet.With thearmouredbodiesofdeadrenegadesfloatingaway, theAlphaLegionpushedonacross thecommanddeck.Holdingonto thewalland launchingoutfrom behind a runebank, a chain-draped Red Corsair swung out with thethrashingbarbsofacurvedsword.Malikwasforcedtoturnitasidewithaside-smashofhisplasmagun.Astheweaponwastornfromhisgripandspunatthewall,Maliksavagelytorehisboltpistolfromitsholster.TheRedCorsairkickedawayfromthewallandcameathim.Theygrabbedeachother’sarmouredwristsin their gauntlets, andMalik and the pirate held the pistol and chainsword at

arm’slength,tumblingthroughthezero-gravityofthechamber.Occamandhissergeantstompedontowardsthethrone,wheretheydiscoveredaRedCorsairscaptaintakingcover.Asthethronesoakedupthesizzlingblastsof plasma, the pirate captain pulled a massive chainaxe from where it wassheathedacrosshisback.Swingingdown in slowmotion, theCorsairscaptainsmashedthechainwithwhichhisdaemonhoundwasrestrained.Themonstrous hound bounded off the floor and into the zero-gravity of thebridge,movingwithinfernalspeedandgrace.Landingandlaunchingitselffromthe pulpit rail, the daemonbeast bouncedoff the chamber ceiling and straightdownatEphronHasdrubal.Asthesergeantwrestledtheabomination,Occamfinishedthethronewiththelast of the hydrogen in his flask, turning it into slag. The Red Corsair burstthroughtheremainsofthethrone,coveredinstrandsofmeltedmetal,andswungthegiganticchainaxefuriously.Withafloatingsavagery,theTyrant’schampiontoretheweapon’sthrashingheadthroughrunebanksandrailings,forcingOccamback. The strikemaster didn’t have time for such an engagement. Letting theRed Corsairs captain pull himself across the architecture of the bridge,demolishing runebanks and columns with swipes of his axe, Occam pushedaway,floatingoutoftheweapon’sbarbedreach.Abandoninghisplasmagun,Occam lurchedback.Hekicked theshaftof thechainaxe to one side and spun around, his armoured elbow smashing into theRed Corsair’s helm. As the seals popped, Occam brought up his fist withpoweredforcetoblowthehelmetcleanfromthecaptain’shead.As the redhelmet flewupwardsandstruck theceiling,Occamwas treated tothehorrorof theRedCorsair’sravagedfeatures.Apallid,warp-smearedskull-mask of ritual scars and tumours, the captain’s face leered at him through thefrozennothingnessofthevoid.Hismistingbreathwasstolenfrombetweenhisneedleteethandblacklips.Oneeyewasmissing,astapledmess,whiletheotherbulgedandwasicedover.Ratherthanstoptheblindpirateinhistracks,itturnedhimintoafrenziedmachine–swinginghisaxeaboutlikeathingpossessed.Looking back down the length of the command deck,Occam saw the lampsabove the bridge elevator change.Klaxons erupted across the rest of the ship,and he imagined that reinforcements were making their way up to aid theirmasters.Heputanotherconsolebetweenhimandthefuriousrenegade,buyingafewpreciousseconds.Pullinghimselfupbyfloatingchainsandcablesdriftingfromtheceiling,Occammovedoutofthewildpathoftheaxe.ThestrikemasterallowedtheRedCorsairtoburythemonstrousweaponinthemangledrunebank,

grabbedforabridgecolumnandswunghimselfaround.Astheelevatordoorsopened,asmallhordeofwarp-scarredpirateswererippedfrom the carwith the evacuating atmosphere.Their flailingbodies shot acrossthecommanddeck.TheRedCorsairstruggledtofreehisaxe.Occamlandedakickonthecaptain’sbreastplate and sent his enemy tumbling. The pirate captain smashed into thestreamofevacuatingbodies.OccamwatchedtheRedCorsairgo,carriedoutintothewaitingvoid.SergeantHasdrubal,meanwhile,wascloakedinamistofrancidichor.Holdingthe daemon hound as it clawed at his plate and snap itsmonstrous jaws shutaround his helm, the sergeant stabbed his multi-blade repeatedly into thecreature’sbelly,usingeverytorturousapplicationoftheweaponashethuddeditintothestrugglingbeast.Finally,hetossedthetwitchingbodyofthehoundafteritsmaster.‘Fire in the hole,’ Vilnius Malik called out across the vox-channel as thelegionnaire rested the soles of his boots on his opponent’s chest and kickedaway. Disengaging and flipping backwards out of the arc of the curvedchainblade,MaliklefttheRedCorsairwithameltabomblockedtohisplate.Inamomentofpanic, the renegade reacheddownand tried to tear theexplosiveoff. Detonating in an optics-searing flash, the Red Corsair disappeared –vaporised from reality. In the zero-gravity, theblast reachedacross thebridge.HeatwashedoverHasdrubal,clearingthecloudofdaemonbloodfromaboutthesergeant.Bringinghimselfbackdowntothedeckandmag-lockinghissolestothemetal,Malik recovered his weapon and joined the sergeant by the main bank ofconsoles.‘Reznor?’Occamaskedacrossthevox.‘Standingby,’thewarpsmithreported.As Reznor spoke toMalik and Sergeant Hasdrubal through the rudimentarycontrolsonvariousrunebanks,Occamissuedhisorders.‘Killtheengines,’hesaidasherecoveredhisownplasmagun.Hestaredoutoftheblastedlancetscreens.TheIota-Æternuswasstillthere,itsstarboardbatterysmashed,with the reinforced prow of the RedCorsair raider bulldozing it onthroughtheredglobularmist:ontowardstheMawtex.As the Q-ship began to drift away from the ramming prow and disappearthrough thehaze,Occamrealised thatHasdrubalhadmanaged tocutpower totheraider’ssub-lightengines.

‘Malik,’Occamcalled. ‘Scuttle thevessel.Purge locksonall levelsanddropthehangarintegrityfields.EmptythiscrateintotheMaelstrom.’‘Affirmative,’theformerNightLordsaidwithrelish,beforeusinghisrunebankto execute theorder.Occamcouldonly imagine thehorror takingplacedownthroughthedecksofthepirateraider.Mortalcrewmemberswouldbedraggedacross chambers and along corridors, their bodies broken against the twisted,unfeelingarchitectureoftheChaosvesselbeforebeingblastedoutofsectionair-locksbythestreaminghundred.Occamnoddedtohimself.ThedaemonentitieshauntingtheMawtexwouldfeedwellonsuchabounty.‘Iota-Æternus,respond,’Occamsaidacrossthevox.‘Here,strikemaster,’CarcinusQuoda returned, the sorcerer’svoice cracklingwiththegrowingdistance.‘Status?’‘The shipmaster confirms thatwehave steeringway,’Quoda said. ‘Reznor ispreparingadamagereportforyourreturn.’‘Ourguest?’thestrikemasterasked.‘Isstillourguest,’thesorcerersaid.‘Verygood,’Occamsaid,satisfied.‘Sendalighter.We’recomingback.’

ξTHESHREWDNESSOFSERPENTS

Theshipfeltdifferent.ItwasasapparenttoMinaPerditaasitwastoallonboardtheIota-Æternus.The Seventh Sonswere like the crew of any vessel entering the immaterium.Superstitious sayings were uttered, rituals were observed for good fortune.Thankswouldbegivenas thevesselbroke thewarpat theendof its journey,however long or short it might have been. Entering the Maelstrom wassomethingelse,though.EvenintheserviceoftheirAlphaLegionoverlords,theMaelstromhadbeenaphenomenon to be skirted and avoided. Its radiance was always there,dominatingthevoid.LordOccamhadcommittedtheIota-Æternusanditscrewtoplungingintothedepths of the deadly stormwith only a traitorousWordBearer as their guide.Sayingsandritualswerenotenoughtocomfortthecultistcrewthistime.Passing through the living quarters Perdita could see that the Seventh Sonsweresuffering.Theywereasstalwartasever in theprosecutionof theirdutiesandmurderouslyloyaltoLordOccam,butdaysridingtheperversecurrentsofthestormhadleftmanycultistsashen-facedandthecorridorsweretingedwiththesharptangofvomit.EventhecharlatanFreydorBlatchfoundithardtokeepupappearances,theHighSerpenthavinglosthisappetiteforprivaterevelry.Hestill tookabottleofamasec tohischambersat theendof thewatch,however,claimingthatthepotentliquorservedtocalmhisstomach.AsforPerdita,shegrumbledandvomitedwiththerestofthembutmainlytokeep up appearances. Every time she endured the effect of polymorphineburningthroughherveinsshehadtosufferthebendingofbones,thestretchingof skin and the rupture of flesh. The first few times she had attempted suchtransformations at the temple she had emptied her stomach onto the polished

stone floor.Now, it took a littlemore than the sickening roll of the ship in aperpetualstormtounsettleher.OrdinarilythedeathcultistsoftheSeventhSonswereunshakeable.Theirfaithwassustained,likePerdita’sown,bytheexpectationthattheywerealwaysmeremomentsfromtheend,expectingdeathtocomeforthemintheformofaboltorblade.TheMaelstromrepresentedsomethingelse,however.Theentitieshowlingthrough thestorm,dragging theirclawsalong thehullorwhisperingseductivehorrorstothecultiststhroughtheirdreamsdidnotpromiseanything.Theirgiftwasathousandwishesgrantedandtheeternityoftormentthatcamewiththem.ThecultistswereeverfearfulthattheGellerfieldmightcollapseandtheirfleshwould be torn to ribbons by the daemonmonstrosities rampaging through theship.Theirultimateterror,however,wasthattheymightanswerthecallofsuchentitiesandsurrendertheirsouls.Suchwerethefearsofmortalsinthecrushingdepthsofwarp-churningoblivion.Perditawasdressed like a femalemenial, amemberof theSeventhSons theHigh Serpent had assigned to attend upon their Alpha Legion overlords.Carryingcleancloths andametalbowlofwater, sheapproached thedemigodknown asAutolicon Phex. The legionnaire stood as still as a statue outside adoor in the corridor. Dressed in full plate and carry ing a monstrous heavyweapon, he was guarding the cell housing the Word Bearers prisoner. LordOccamhadcommandedthattherenegadenotbereferredtoassuch.Asagueston board the Iota-Æternus, however, the Word Bearer still warranted alegionnaire keepingwatchonhis quarters,VilniusMalikon constant stand-byand,ofcourse,Perditaherself.Asamenial,theAssassintendedupontheDarkApostle,readytotakethenecessarymeasurestoendtheWordBearershouldhisintentionsturnhostile.‘You again,’ Goura Shengk said as she entered. Acting as a menial might,Perditabowedherheadbeforethehulkingtraitor.Gettingupfromonekneeinhisdeckrobe,theDarkApostlebroughtbackhishoodtorevealtheblackmessofhisface.TheAssassinsaidnothing.Whatcouldamenialpossiblyhavetosaytosuchabeing?Assheplacedherbowlandclothsdownonastonepedestal,shenoticedthattheWordBearerwas still staring at her and that hewasbleeding.Therewerespecklesofredonhissharpteethandawound,seeminglyself-inflicted,onhishand.‘Youdon’tspeakmuch,doyou,serpentgirl?’GouraShengksaid.Hefollowedthequestionwithamockinghiss,likethatofasnake.Perditaignoredhimand

toreastripoffoneofthecleancloths.MovinginonthetoweringDarkApostle,shebegantobandagehiswoundandtiethedressingoffinthepalmofhishand.TheWordBearerswerefanaticalwarriors,keepersofthedreadwordandeachanacolytetotheruinousgods.DarkApostleswereunholywarlordsattheheadof suchmonstrous hosts – theirmindswere archives of forbidden knowledgewhilethefleshofmanywasthrice-damnedbythepresenceofdaemonsfeedingfromtheirdarksouls.PerditahadeveryreasontofearGouraShengkbutshedidnot.Itwashardtofeara foewhosedeathyouhadpractisedamilliondifferent times inamilliondifferentways.‘You are more than you seem, I suspect,’ theWord Bearer said, flexing hisbandagedhand. ‘Likeallwhoserveyourmaster’sLegion.Youneedn’tworry.Wehavegivenourword–andnothingismoreimportanttoasonofLorgar.Thestrengthofourwordsurvivestheages,givenasitistodeitiesanddarkprinces.Youcanexpectnotroublefromus,girl.’Perdita’s eyes flashed down at the cell floor. Blood had not merely drippedthere.TheWordBearerhadusedittomakeglisteningsignsandsymbolsabouthiskneelingform.‘Nothingtoworryabout,Iassureyou,’GouraShengksaid,steppingoutofhiscircleofblood.‘JustservantsofChaos,honouringtheirgods.Yourmasterhashischapel.WehavetheShrineofIronandthedarknessofthewarpallaroundus.’TheAssassinsensedtheDarkApostle’sarmreacharoundherandfelthishugehand on her shoulder. She tensed, as she might anyway. She could not giveherself away by reaching for a weapon or assuming a combat stance. At thetempleshehadbeentrainedtoexploittheweaknessesofeventhoseopponentsseeminglywithoutthem–opponentslikeSpaceMarines.Motioningheraround,GouraShengkpointedoutseveralkeysymbolsonthefloor.TheywerehardforPerditatolookat,fillingherheadwithanexistentialdread.‘TheDarkPantheon,’theWordBearersaid.‘Godsthatareeverbeforeusandbehindus.Withinandwithout.Menlikeyourmasterarefoolstofightwithouttheirblessing.Otherrenegadesarefoolsstillforchoosingonedreaddeitytotheinsult of all others. Bearers of the Word worship all dark forces in all theirwondrousmanifestations.TheShrineofIronwasbuilttohonoursuchpatrons.’‘Mylord,’Perditaprotested,keepinghervoiceweakandpleading.Shetriedtopushagainsthishandbutthetraitor’sgripheldherfirm.‘Donot turn your back on theRuinousPowers, girl,’GouraShengkwarned.

‘Lookandyouwilltrulysee.Openyourhearttotheirdarknessandyouwillberewarded–foronlygodshavethepowertograntyourheart’sdesire.’‘Youarehurtingme,’Perditasaid,fightingtheDarkApostleasamenialmight,reaching behind and scrabbling at his girder-thick arm. At the same time sheslippedastilettodaggerfreefromwhereitwasconcealedinthesleevesofherrobe. She held the narrow, envenomed bladewithin her other sleeve, ready tostrike.‘There,’ theWord Bearer pointed, moving his finger around the circle: ‘TheChanger…theGreatLordofDecay…thePrinceofExcess…theBloodGod…Allaretheretoserveyourdesiresandinturnbeservedbythem.’Perdita blinked. The final damned sigil drawn in the Dark Apostle’s bloodbegantoboilonthefloorasshestaredatit,andshewasfindingithardtodraghergazeaway.Hergriptightenedaboutthestilettoblade.Shethoughtofalltheplacesshecouldplungeit.IntotheDarkApostle’seye.Histemple.Oneofhishearts.Throughthefleshofhisthroat.‘Yes,’theWordBearersaid.‘TheBloodGod.Hecallstoyou,sister.’Perdita heard a hum in her ears to match the veil forming before her eyes.Somewhereinthebackofhermindsheknewshewaslosingcontrolandhatedherselfforit.ThespittingsigilseemedtorespondasmuchtothatasherdesiretoendtheWordBearer.‘Yes…’GouraShengksaid,beforehewasinterrupted.Thedreadseductionofthemomentbroken,Perditafeltsomeoneelsestandingoverher.AutoliconPhexwasthere,holdingthehummingbarrelofhisheavyplasmagunaboveherhead,themuzzleagainstthesideoftheDarkApostle’shead.Blinkingtheconfusionfromhereyes,PerditatorehergazefromthesigilsonthefloorandwhippedtheenvenomedbladeuptorestundertheWordBearer’schin.Shefeltanunconscioussnarlslipfromthemaskofherfeatures.‘Ah, a successor son of Guilliman,’ Shengk said, his voice dripping withderision.‘Heretoavengeyourkindred,brother?’TheWordBearerbackedfromboththelegionnaire’sbarrelandPerdita’sblade.TheAssassinheard thesoundofarmoured footfalls in thecorridor.WithPhexawayfromhispost,VilniusMalikhadmovedin.HepausednexttoPhex.‘Thestrikemaster’sorders,’ theformerNightLordsaid. ‘This filth iswantedonthebridge.’At themention ofLordOccam, Perdita got a full hold of her emotions. Theburning rage guiding her blade evaporated. She served her master with herdeadlytalentsandnotherself.Shehadn’tkilledforherselfinyears.

The legionnaire’s indication thatOccamwason the commanddeck surprisedher.ThebridgehadbelongedtoSergeantHasdrubalforthepastday,withLordOccamhavingtakentohisquarters.TheAssassinsuspectedthathewasprayingtotheGod-Emperorforspiritualguidanceinthisdarkplace.Perdita,whomadeitherbusinessontheshiptoknowmostthings,hadheardhislastrequestwasoftheHighSerpent.BlatchsubsequentlysentfortwentyofthebestneedlersandartistsfromamongsttheSeventhSons,withinksandtheircrudeequipment.ThiswasanotherwayPerditaknewthestrikemastertospendhis time – adorning his flesh with the symbols and markings of his chosenLegion.Itappearedtohelphimthink.InthatwayhewaslittledifferenttoGouraShengkwiththepatternsonhisfloor.TheDarkApostlesmiledatPerdita.‘Summonedtothebridge–thatcanonlymeanonething,’hetoldher.‘Wehavearrived.’

Occamgripped thepulpit railingof thebridge.The Iota-Æternuswasholdingstation in between a roaringwarpstreamof immaterial energy and the choppyradiance of an unnatural star. The system’s afflicted sun flickered betweenblazingwhite light and a darkness, like amalfunctioning strobe,momentarilylightinguptheQ-shipandthesurroundingsystembeforeplungingitbackintogloom.With each pulse of unnatural radiation thewarped starmade the Iota-Æternusroll.‘Thisisit?’Occamasked.Ghesh,theship’sNavigator,cameforthandconfirmedthelocationwithabowofhismutanthead.Thestrikemasterstaredoutacrossthevoid.ThiswaswheretheWordBearer’sdirections had taken them. While hundreds of moons rode out the roughimmaterial weather of the region, each appearing as though dread runes andcontinentalsigilshadbeencarvedacrosstheirrockysurfaces,Occamcouldseenoplanetorbitingthesystem’sstrangesun.Inaglitteringmiasmaorbitingthestar,however,thestrikemastercouldseeanebulouscloudofcrystalshanginginthevoid.Occamhadn’tnoticeditatfirst.Naga-Khan’sbridgecrewhadfarednobetter,returnsfromlong-rangeaugurs–alreadystrugglinginthestorm–beingbouncedstraightbackoff thereflectivesurfaceof thecrystalcloud.Likeabillionshatteredmirrors, thecrystal shardsreflectedthecolourandbizarrefeaturesoftheMaelstromaroundit.‘Yes,’GouraShengksaid,ashewasescortedontothecommanddeckbyMalik

andPhex.OccamturnedtoseethatPerditawaswiththem,inherdisguiseasacultist menial. ‘In answer to your question, that is unholy Ghalmek,daemonforgeandShrineofIron.Wejustdon’tliketoadvertiseit.’‘Ouraugursshownothing,’Occamsaid.‘Andtheywon’t,’Shengksaid.‘Iexpectedmoreinthewayofdefences,’SergeantHasdrubalsaid,althoughitwasn’tclearifhewastalkingtoOccam,theDarkApostleorboth.‘Ghalmekiswellfortified,’Shengksaid,‘asitneedstobe,situatedhereintheMaelstrom–todefenditselfagainstmutantmigrations,daemonicincursionsandpirates.Again,wetendnottoadvertiseit.Ifahostbreachesthecrystalcloud,itwill soon discover its mistake. Even given such precautions, thousands havetriedacrosstheagesandthousandshavefailed,formightyGhalmekstillstands.Thisiswhy,legionnaire,ifyouhadn’tbartered,yourWhiteCrusadewouldhavebeenfornaught.’‘Unbeknownst to the frater legions,’ Occam assured the Dark Apostle, ‘theAlphaLegionfightsontheirside–andtheAlphaLegionalwaysfindsaway.’‘Howdoyouknowwehaven’talready?’EphronHasdrubalsaidoverShengk’sshoulder,takingalittleofthepridefromtheWordBearer’sruinedfeatures.‘What of your own arrays, augurs and monitoring stations?’ Occam asked,notingthathehadn’tseenanyorbitingplatforiaeither.GouraShengksteppedforwardandpointedthroughthelancetportsatanearbymoon.‘Look.’AsOccampeeredupatthecursedmoonhesawacolossaldaemoneyeopenonitssurface.Massiveandbloodshot,theinfernalcreaturesatlikeatickburiedintherockofthemoon’srune-carvedsurface.Asthestrikemasterstaredaboutattheothermoons,hesawmorepredatoryeyesopentowatchtheprogressoftheIota-Æternus.ThedaemonicgazemadeOccamfeeluncomfortable.‘Shipmaster,’Occamsaid,‘primethebatteries.’‘Weshouldn’tdothat,’GouraShengksaid.‘IfyoucometoGhalmekinpeace,thenactlikeit.’OccamlookedfromHasdrubaltoNaga-Khan.‘Primethebatteries,’thestrikemasterinsisted,‘butdonotrunout.’‘Proceedtowardsthenorthernpole,’ theDarkApostlesaid.‘Weshallneedtopresent ourselves. There are rituals to observe. You had better let me do thetalking.’‘That’swhywebroughtyou,’Occamsaid,noddingtohissergeant.Hasdrubal

movedupbehindtheWordBearerandrestedthetipsofhismulti-bladeagainsthisside.‘Butifwhatproceedsfromyourmouthdispleasesme,youshallcometoknowsufferinglikenoother.Weshallfindanotherwayinandyoucanbleedyour last on my deck, a short distance from the unholy soil of your daemonhome world. We can all win here or you can lose. Am I understood, WordBearer?’‘Crystalclear,’theDarkApostlesaidwithablacksmirk.As the Iota-Æternus moved on through the system, more daemon moonsopened their eyes, watching the Alpha Legion vessel proceed through theflickeringlightofthesun.Thecommanddeckwassilentandtense.Headingforthetopofthecloud,asinstructed,theIota-Æternusfounditselfreflectedintheshattered, silverycrystal.Theshards seemed tohaveanunnatural sentienceoftheirown,partinglikeaswarmtoadmittheship’sprowanddimensions.Withinthecloud,Occamsawthatsomeof thesmashedpiecesweretinysliverswhileotherswerechunksofcrystalalmostaslargeastheIota-Æternusitself.Daemon faces glowered from within the crystal, staring through the silverysurfacelikeghostlynightmares,lookinghungrilyattheQ-shippassingthroughthecloudandthesoulswithin.As the crystals parted, Occam could make out structures beyond. A wall ofburnishedmetalandrowsofgunscameintoview.‘All stop,’ Occam called, while Hasdrubal allowed his torturer’s blade todimpleGouraShengk’srobes.TheQ-shipcametoahaltabovethedaemonworldofGhalmek.InfrontoftheAlphaLegionvessellayamonstrousWordBearersbattleship.Warp-encrusted.Battle-scarred.Ancient.OccamsuspectedthatitspatterndatedbacktothedarkdaysoftheHeresy,perhapsevenearlier.Itshullwascoveredinunholyscripturewhile parts of its metal architecture, including its colossal rows of antiquecannons,wereafflictedandwarpedwithdaemonicpossession.Occam stepped forward. He could feel the fear on the bridge. It would takenothing for the battleship to turn the Iota-Æternus into a flaming wreck or avaporisedcloudofnothingness.Helookedaboutthroughthelancetscreensanddownatthedaemonworld.The flickering lightof thedamnedstar felt itsway through thecrystal cloud,bathing the daemon world in intermittent gloom and complete darkness. Thesurrounding shards created a shattered sky. A billion daemon entities lookeddown from their crystal prisons, feasting upon the deviance and devotion ofGhalmek’scitizenry.

TheShrineofIronwasarelativelysmallplanet,butappearedlargerduetotheancient cage of void docks, planetary scaffolding andmonstrous platforia thatsurrounded it.Rusting in their age, some of the structures had been painted adirtycrimsonwhileothersboredarksymbolsofsummoning.Theshrinefleetsatat anchorage about the planet, docked with the surrounding structure likemagnificent,unhallowedcathedralsinthevoid.OccamcouldseeWordBearersbattleships, grand cruisers and grotesque daemon ships, docked alongsidebloated carriers that were spiked like sea urchins and used for transportingpilgrim labour.He could see ablizzardof lost and captured Imperial shippingamongst the larger vessels, repurposed for the traitors’ ownprofane use.DarkMechanicumfactoryshipsandark tenderswerealso insight,movingbetweennew ships under construction, indulging in daemonic rituals and makingblasphemousadaptations.The planet’s surface reached up tomeet the orbital scaffolding. The daemonworldwasburiedin thousandsofyearsofarchitecturalaccretion.Itwaslikeasingle,fathivethatcoveredtheentiresurfaceofthesmallplanet.Nestsofspireshousing pilgrims, workers and deviant constructs reached up from thearchitectural malaise. Infernal forgeworks and manufactoria blazed across thesurface. Rising above the smog of damnation and industry were continentalcathedra – entire regions busy with the towers, spires and steeples of unholytemples,allbuilttohonourtheChaosPantheon.ThefourdreadPowerswereverymuchinevidenceonGhalmek.Forgesragedtocreateweaponsofwar for theWordBearersand theirpilgrimarmiesof theafflicted. At the tolling of stratospheric bell towers, rivers of cultists seepeddownhill like diseased effluence fromvaulted churches.Twisted temples grewout of cathedral structures likemutations, whilewithin unholy Bearers of theWordindulgedtheirdaemonoverlordswithvenerationandworship.Occam looked back at the fangedmouths of battleship cannon aimed at theIota-Æternus.‘Open channel,’ the strike master commanded. He gave Goura Shengk thehardnessofhiseyes.‘Timetotalktoyourbrothers.’TheDarkApostlebowedhisheadandapproacheda runebank.Adjusting thechannel, he spoke across it in a strange language. His words were ancient,utteredinanaccentofflintandsparks.As different voices filled the bridge from the voxhailers, there was anexchange.AlthoughOccamdidn’tunderstandthelanguagehecouldtellbytheintonation that the voices were surprised and cautious. After completing the

exchange,Shengkwashandedovertoanother.BackingfromtherunebankandHasdrubal’sblade,theDarkApostlebowedhisheadoncemoretoOccam.‘Renegade vessel,’ the voice said. It sounded like iron scraping throughcrackling embers. ‘My name is Sor Tandrach, First Acolyte to MalthusaVho’tek–theLordHighApostleandHeraldOrbital.TheLexDiabolitora, thebattleshipunderwhosegunsyoufindyourself,aswellasthevoidinfernalanddaemonskiesofGhalmek,arehis.Thepunishmentforyourtrespassisadeathtoflesh and the imprisonment of your eternal soul. However, Apostle Shengkinformsmethatyourmiserablebandofrenegadeshavebeenofsomeservicetohimandensuredhisreturn toface trialonmightyGhalmek.For that,youwillreceivepassagetothesurfaceandanaudiencealongsideGouraShengktopleadforyourexistencewithhisunholiness,theGrandApostleandAbyssalPrinceofAll-Ghalmek.’‘I applaud your mercy and wisdom,’ the strike master said, looking at hissergeant.Hasdrubalnodded.‘Theoneknown asOccam,’FirstAcolyteTandrach continued, ‘andonly he,shall accompanyApostleShengk to the surface.Your vessel shall dock in theadjacent bay. Any attempt to deviate off course and theLexDiabolitora willopen fire. Run out your weaponry and the Lex Diabolitora will open fire.AttempttoleavethisplaceunsanctionedandtheLexDiabolitorawillopenfire.’‘Ithinkweunderstand,’Occamreplied.‘ExtendmyappreciationtotheGrandApostle.Ilookforwardtoanaudiencewithhisunholiness.’

οFORKEDTONGUES

Occam took the controls of the stolen lighter himself. It was a battered agriworld craft, formerly used for transporting grain between surface silos andfreightersinorbit.HehadaskedArkanReznorontheflightdeckforsomethingdisposablebutreliable.ThewarpsmithhadaskedOccamifhecouldaccompanythestrikemasterandshare theriskof thedaemonworld. Itwasregrettablehecould not, since Reznorwould have beenmuchmore comfortable behind thecontrols of the lighter.The strikemaster usually had one of theSeventhSonsperform such a duty, as there were a number of talented pilots among theirnumber.Bycomparison,Occam’sskillswererough.Hecouldgetthecraftfromorbit and put it down fairly harshly on a landing pad. It was everything inbetweenthatwastheproblem.As the lighter spiralled down through the thin atmosphere, a billion daemonentities looking down on its progress from the shattered sky above, Occamguidedthecrafttowardsacolossalpolarstructure.WhiletheIota-Æternuswasdockedabove,amongsthalf-constructeddaemonshipsandunderthegunsoftheLexDiabolitora,GouraShengkdirectedthestrikemastertowardstheCathedraNox–anarchitecturalnightmarespanningasmallcontinent.Thestructurewaspart cathedral, part fortress. Amongst its skyscraping bell towers, spires andwarp-encrusted steeples Occam could also see courtyards and surface-to-orbitlasersilos.Sacrificialplazas,warpedstatuesanddomedlibrariaweredecoratedwith heavy weapons emplacements. Magnificent stained-glass windowsdepictingDarkGodssatinthickwalls.Guidingthelighterdownthroughswarmsofspikedtransportscarryingcultiststo dark prayer and mutant labour to their shift in the manufactoria districts,Occamavoidedthescaffoldingofnewdaemon-honouringshrinesbuiltamongstthehorrorofolderdevotionalstructures.Heweavedaroundhigh-tensioncables

stretchedbetweenpockethivesandchainssupportingTitanGodMachinesunderconstruction. He dropped down through heavy metal smog banks that weresettled above manufactoria complexes and the slum habs that fed them withcultistworkers.Goura Shengk pointed out a landing pad atop a cathedral tower, thecrenellationsofwhichwerelinedwithcurvedmetalspikeslikefangs.Thepaditselfwasapentanglelinedwithruinoussigilsandhugeelectro-candles.Raggedcultists rushed up from a stone stairwell. They were followed by a squad ofhulking, spiked shapes in dirty red plate. Their welcoming party, the strikemasterassumed.Occamopenedanencryptedvox-channel:‘Comingintoland.’‘Standing by,’ Sergeant Hasdrubal returned from the bridge of the Iota-Æternus.Driftingoverthelandingpad,Occamallowedthedescenttoovershootslightly,scatteringthecultistsandputtingtheWordBearersescortonedge,ashewantedthem.Putting the lighterdownheavily,off thepentangle’s centre,Occamshutdownthecraft’senginesandlifesupport.‘Shallwe?’theDarkApostlesaid.Occamsaidnothing,butledthewaythroughthe cargo compartment, hitting the stud for the ramp.Taking his helm off, hemag-lockedittotherearofhisbelt.AstheydescendedthepairofthemfoundthesquadofWordBearershadfannedoutaboutthecraft.Theywereallarmedwithboltgunsofancientdesign.Occamcouldseethattheirarmourwasfusedtotheir warped bodies, gaps in the cracked plate revealing daemon brawn andglowing runes. Among their number was a helmetless acolyte who sported adaemonichalf-face,onesidebelonging toabald,bronze-skinnedWordBearerandtheotheraninfernalmonsterofsharpenedteeth,warp-glazedeyeandsinglehorn.Thehalf-mouthofthedaemonseemedperpetuallycurledingrinningself-satisfactionwhiletheotherwasdownturnedandunsmiling.‘You areGoura Shengk,’ the being rasped, ‘late apostle of theBarbedOath,HonouredoftheVargaRax,CaptainoftheDissolutioPerpetua.Warp-temperedoffleshandhosttoMorphidaxthePrimordial.’‘Wearestillallthosethings,’Shengktoldtheacolyte.‘Andyouare…’‘ZothracoftheGravenGate,’themonstertoldShengk.‘AcolytetoDrach’VarTal,firstofhisname,FirstApostleoftheDaemonCouncilandrighthandtotheAbyssalPrinceofAll-Ghalmek.’WhileOccam let the formalitieswashover him, it became clear thatShengkand the daemonWordBearer heralded from different companies or Chapters.

Therewasclearlynobrotherlylovelostbetweenthem.‘Searchthem,’Zothracsaid.Two Word Bearers came forth to check Occam and the Dark Apostle forweaponry.WhileShengk stillwore his deck robes,Occamwore his legionaryplate. He had forgone all weaponry, however. Knowing that he would besearched,Occam had decided not to risk the offence a bolt pistol or secretedclose-combatweaponmightoffer.Within theancientplate andhelmof theWordBearer searchinghim,Occamcould hear the ugly breathing of another daemon monstrosity. Like GouraShengk, it seemed theWordBearersofGhalmek favoured theirdaemonallieswithflesh.Theirown.Theysharedtheirageing,superhumanframeswithbeingsofthewarp,sothatsuchalliesmighttravelwiththembeyondthesafetyofthestorm.ItdidnotsurpriseOccamtobesearched,buthewassurprisedwiththeequallydistrustful treatmentofoneof theirown.AsaDarkApostle,OccamsuspectedthatGouraShengkoutrankedeveryWordBeareronthelandingpadandyettheytreatedhimwiththesamecautionasamemberoftheAlphaLegion.TheWordBearer searchingOccamwent so far as to lean in and smell the strikemaster.Through thehelmet’sgrilleOccamheardabestial snuffling.Movingacross toGouraShengk,theChaosSpaceMarinedidthesame.Occam stood there in the sights of the daemonSpaceMarines as the acolyteandthesearchersconversedinaguttural,infernaltongue.‘Youhavebeenpurified,brother,’theacolytesaidtoShengk,thedisgustclearon both sides of his flesh. ‘Your flesh is without blessing and your soulunfavoured. You are untempered and like this one, you carry the stench ofweakness.’Shengkgavetheacolyteaflashofhisperfectteethfrombehindblack,ravagedlips.‘TheAbyssalPrinceawaitsus,’Shengktoldhim.‘Itwouldbeunwisetokeepourlordwaiting.’‘Indeed,’thehalf-facedacolytesaid.‘Ithoughtthesamethingwhenyoufailedtoreturnwith theDissolutioPerpetua.Youhavekeptyourprincewaiting.Heis…displeased.Isuspectbringingthisfork-tonguedserpentbeforehimwilldolittletoimprovehisdisposition.Thepairofyouwillnotbealone.IhavesentforyourhostcaptainandhonouredFirstAcolyte–nowDarkApostleoftheBarbedOath inyourplace.Arewardfor fulfilling thepropheciesof theDaedronicronMalefestandreturningKar’Nash’gahar–LordofGloriousSlaughterandSlayer

ofWorlds–totheShrineofIron.Iamgladtobetheonetoreuniteyou.’‘Doesthisthingeverbreakforbreath?’Occamasked.‘Oristhathistalentonthebattlefield–talkinghisenemiestodeath?’Theacolytesnarledhisdaemonicdispleasure,promptingWordBearers toleaninwiththemuzzlesoftheirboltguns.‘Zothrac is a brother of the Graven Gate,’ Goura Shengk said, ‘and as suchhasn’tseenabattlefieldforalongtime.Hehideswithhisfiendsamonglibrarystacksandblackaltars.He isadarkand true servantofGhalmek,pledging tonever leave his daemonworld – and certainly not the safety of the storm.HelikestheGravenGatefirmlyclosed,withhishostfirmlyonthissideofit.’‘Youwilldieforthat,untemperedthing,’Zothracspat.‘Aye,wewill,’GouraShengksaid,‘butnotbyyourunworthyhand.Now,beagoodheraldandwalkustoourend.’Outonthelandingpad,thestrikemasternoticedthatitwasraining.Sliversofsilverycrystaldrizzledfromtheskyandpitter-patteredagainsthisplate.OccamandtheDarkApostlewereescorteddownthestairwellandintothemainbodyofthe Cathedra Nox. It was a haunted place, filled with gloom and foreboding.EveryanteroomandvaultedchambervenerateddaemonprincesandDarkGods:colossal statues of honoured entities loomed over them, while sigils ofsummoningwerecarvedintostonefloorsstainedredwithsacrificialbloodandblack with the infernal fires of manifestation. The stone of the structure wascrackingandancient,held togetherbywarpencrustationanddarkness.Occampassedthroughvasthallsconstructedfrommortarandskulls.Hewalkedthroughthelivinglightofghostlyentitiescast in thecoloursofstained-glasswindows.He heard the screams of the sacrificed as theywere burned on great pyres ofblackbonesbeneathtoweringchimneys.All the while, choirs of lesser daemons filled the chambers with madness,alongside themournful tollingof cursedbells in thebelfries.Cultists in blackrobes went about their business, chanting, summoning and reading fromforbiddentomes.Blackpriestsplottedinbenightedcrypts.Theyconducteddarkritualsonwarpedaltars.Somefellintomumblinginsensibility,standingintheirownmessandproceedingtorotintheirpulpits.Thebloodthirstywhisperingofdaemons prompted others tomake sacrifice of friend and foewith kris bladesburiedinbacks.Darkcardinals indifferent transept temples, twistedbeyondrecognition,gavesermons before colossal barbed stars, in honour of the Dark Gods of Chaos.Theyfavouredghoulishpriestswiththeirwisdom,whointurnwouldspreadthe

dreadwordtotheirdamnedflocksinthehivechapelsandchurchmanufactoria.In thegloomof thecathedracorners,behindblood-drenchedtapestriesand inthe catacombsbelowOccam’s feet, the strikemaster felt daemons stalkinghispath.Fiendsandhorrorshungeredforhim,whilethevastbuildingitselfseemedalivewithinfernalsentience.Eyesopenedinlecterns.Fangedarchwaysdrooledtheirexpectation.Theredandblackstoneofwallscreakedandseemedtoleanandlistenforthestrikemaster’scoming.While daemons went about their dark business, favouring the shadows,barbican-archways were guarded by cultist soldiers. Some were dressed inblood-stained ceremonial robes. They leaned against serrated halberds, theirclawedhandsrestingontheholstersofbaroqueautopistols.Thoseguardingthepulpitsandcardinalswerecagedinclatteringplatethatsizzledwithsmoulderingrunes.Theykneltbeforedaemon-possessedgreatswordsandaxesusedinritualsacrifice.The strike master observed with a tactician’s eye the deployment of WordBearers throughout the structure.Somewerewarpedmonstrosities andwillingvesselsfordaemonicentitieslikeGouraShengkandhisVargaRax.Itseemedtobeadarkblessingreservedforofficers,warlordsandfavouredunits.MostoftheWordBearersonGhalmekappeared relativelyunchanged, their rune-encrustedplatemerely smokingwith themalevolenceof theunholyplaceand theirownblackhearts.AsOccamandGouraShengkweremarcheduppolishedobsidianstepsandintothe cathedra-palace, the strikemaster was exposed to deviancies of all kinds,committedwithsolemnreverenceintheprivatechambersoftheGrandApostle.Word Bearers stood guard on vast landings, lit by windows bearing themostblasphemousofstained-glassdepictionsandtwisteddaemonicstatuesoflivingiron.TheWordBearerssentrieswerecladinbarbedTerminatorarmour,carryingboltgun-mountedchain-glaives.TheirhelmswerehornedandwarpedaboutthebestialfeaturesoftheWordBearerswithin.Atthetopofthestairs,thestrikemasterandGouraShengkwerewalkedintoadomed throne roomwith blackwalls andwithoutwindows.An infernal glowwas created by runes and damned scripture that burned in the walls. In thisgloom,Occamcouldmakeoutanaudienceofwarpedclerics,DarkMechanicumpriests, robed daemon heralds and high-rankingWordBearers.DarkApostles,dressed in the dread glory of ornate plate, bore symbols of different unholyChapters. Heavily armed host captains stood in attendance, while possessedacolytesbledthewarpintothechamberfromtheirglowingeyesandmouths.

Apair ofmisshapenTerminators shuffled their spiked forms and crossed thebarbed blades of their glaives before Occam and Goura Shengk. Spindlycardinalssprangforth toofferdarkblessingsandbaptise thenewarrivalswithdaemonichorflickedfromtheirlongfingers.Occamlookeddownatthefilthasitsizzledonhisplate.Unholyprayerswereofferedandchalicesbroughtforthbydaemonwretches.‘Drinkofspiritualpollution,’ahorror-facedcardinalencouraged,‘sothatyoumightbeunpurifiedinthepresenceoftheAbyssalPrince.’Shengk took thechalice anddrankdeep theblackblood that bubbledwithin.Taking the jewelled cup tentatively,Occam put it to his lips.His superhumanphysiologyhadbeenengineeredtosubsistonvirtuallyanything.Thecontentsofthe cup not only raged a physical revulsion down through his body, but theyseemedtosearhisverysoul.Spittingthecontentsoutanddroppingthechalice,Occamcouldheartheinfernalmirthofthethroneroom.Apostles and armoured acolytes, their features horribly warped by daemonsponsorship,laughedthroughsharpteethbeforestandingtooneside.Athroneofbarbed bone and ironwas revealed, inwhich sat amonstrous daemon prince.What little remained of his legionary plate was rune-scored, encrusted andembeddedinarmouredredflesh.Itwasalldaemonbrawnandgrotesquesinew.The hulking creaturewore a crownof twisted horns and breathed intermittentgouts of fiery steam froma helmgrille that still remainedpart of the daemonprince’selongatedsnout.Zothracmadeformal introductions,ashehaddoneonthelandingpad.Theseweretranslatedintoadarkdaemontonguebyaheraldatatwistedlectern,whichmulti-taskedwith itsmany limbs.As itmade its announcements, the creaturedippedaquillintothedarknessofits singleeyeandscribbledunfoldingeventsdown in a living tome. Occamwaited under the burning gaze of the daemonprinceastwootherWordBearerswereadmittedtothechamber.Theplateofonehadthemarkingsofahostcaptain,whilethesecond,trailingacloakofstitchedskinandholdingaspikedstaffofoffice,carriedhimselfwiththeconfidenceofaseniorofficer.TheycarriedtheirhelmetsattheirsideandOccamsawtheiruglyfaceschangeastheybeheldGouraShengk.Shengk,forhispart,gavethemthehostility of his frost-ravaged features. His gaze lingered particularly on thebarbedballthatformedtheheadoftheceremonialcroziushisoppositecarried.‘Apostle,’thehostcaptainsaid,takingaknee.‘Bythetri-foldblessingsoftheDarkGods,youarealive.’‘I am,’ Goura Shengk said. Occam watched the second Word Bearer. He

seemedlesspleasedtotakeakneebutfinallydidso.‘Apostle,’ he said. ‘Youmust know that everythingwas done to secure yourfreedom.’‘Everythingwas,’Occaminterjected,‘andyourmaster’sfreedomwassecured.’TheWordBearersseemedtoignorethestrikemaster,whilethedaemonprincelookedonwithdispleasure.‘Themissionwasasuccess?’Shengkaskedcoldlyastheygotbacktotheirfeet.‘The prophecies of theDaedronicronMalefesthave been realised,’ theWordBearertoldhim,‘andatlonglasttheSlaughterlordreturnedtoGhalmek.’‘WhereisKar’Nash’gahar?’Shengkasked.‘IfImightbesobold.’‘Hehasbeentakentothecatachives,’theWordBearertoldhim,‘beneaththecathedra, so that the prince’s diabolists and warpsmiths might investigate thexenostechnologythatishisprisonandpreparetheritualsforhiscoming.’As they talked,OccamnoticedZothracmovethroughtheaudienceandspeakquietly to a number of fell daemons and Word Bearers who bore the sameGravenGatemarkings as the acolyte.His helmboasted an extravagant plumeand thedungloryofhis redplatewas inlaidwith rune-inscribedbone.He toocarried a crozius. The weapon boasted a huge head created from theimpossibilityof interlockinggeometric frames,which formedaChaos star. ItsthickironhaftwassoheavythatittookallfouroftheWordBearer’sfourarmstowieldit.‘Enoughofthis,’theseniorofficerrumbled.‘Silence,’Zothrac commanded. ‘Drach’VarTal,FirstApostleofAll-Ghalmekspeaks.’‘Success,’thedaemonFirstApostlesaid,‘failure.Youarenotfittojudgesuchthings. Only theAbyssal Prince can do that. Formy part, the brothers of theBarbedOathhavenotkepttheirword–toeachotherortotheDaemonCouncil.GouraShengk,youpromisedourmasterKar’Nash’gahar,theSlayerofWorlds.Instead,youreturnwithslitheringverminofthevoid.Renegadesofhalfheart,whofavournottheDarkGodswithaLegion’sloyalty.’GouraShengkloweredhishead.‘As for your host captain and the First Acolyte – now Dark Apostle of theBarbedOathinyourmiserablestead,’Drach’VarTalsaid,‘heindeedsucceededincarryingbackyourprizeandclaimingyour rewards.Hedidnot returnwithhismaster, however.To leavea corpsebehind isone thing.To leavemananddaemontothemercyofourswornenemiesissomethingelseentirely.Whatfaithcan the Daemon Council have that their own members might be served

similarly?’OncemoretheWordBearerswereontheirknees.‘Mylords…’thehostcaptainpleaded.‘I appeal to your infernal wisdom,myAbyssal Prince,’ the newly promotedDarkApostlesaid,‘andthemercyoftheDarkGods.’‘TheDarkGodsknownothingofmercy!’thedaemonprinceroared,comingupoffhisthroneandspumingflame.AstheWordBearersgotupandstumbledback,abarbedTerminatorstompedforth and rammed the screaming chainblade of his glaive through the DarkApostle’sbody.Hetrembledonthethrashingbladewhiledaemonsvaultedfromtheaudience,pouncingonthehostcaptainandtearinghimtopieces.Occamstoodrigid,readytoreactshouldabladerageathimoraninfernalclawreach out for his shoulder. Goura Shengk, meanwhile, kept his head down –acceptinghisfateandtheDaemonCouncil’sjudgement.Asthehostcaptainwastorntopieces,theWordBearersTerminatorheavedtheDarkApostleawayfromhimself,simultaneouslyfiringhisboltgunathisvictim,blastinghisbodyagainstthewall.Occamtookastepback.Hedidn’twantthehulkingpalaceguardsbehindhim,butifthedaemonprince’scourtofabominationsbeganleapingathimhewantedtobeabletoputGouraShengkbetweenhimandanydanger.AstheWordBearerstrembledtheirlastonthestonefloor,theAbyssalPrincesettledbackinhisthrone.Terminatorspointedthelengthsoftheirglaivesoverhisshoulders,aimingtheirboltgunsatOccamandShengk.‘Whattodo…’thedaemonprincesaid,hiswordsburningontheirair,‘…withyou?’Thecreaturesofhis infernalcourtchattered in theirdark tongue,contributingtheirownopinions.‘Skintheserpent,’Drach’VarTalsaid,‘andtakehisship.’‘SurelytheDarkApostlemustbepunishedforhisfailures,’Zothracsaidtohismaster.‘Agreed,’ Drach’Var Tal said, turning to the Abyssal Prince. ‘Goura Shengkmustbemadeanexampleof.WecannothaveBearersoftheWordreturningtoGhalmekempty-handed.’‘Whatsayyouofthis,apostle?’thedaemonprinceasked.‘Hecontestsyourjudgement,darklord,’Occamsaid.‘What makes this scaled vermin think he can speak in my presence?’ theAbyssalPrincesaid,ventingflamethroughhisflesh-embeddedgrille.

ATerminatorsteppedforthtosmashOccaminthemidriffwiththehaftofhisglaive, but the strike master kicked it away. Spinning around behind thearmouredhulk,Occamusedhimforcover.‘Hehasnotreturnedempty-handed,’Occaminsisted.‘Heoffersyouonebillioninnocentsoulsasrecompenseforhisfailureandintelligenceofanattackavertedontheunholysoilofthisverydaemonworld.’TheTerminatorturned,hischainbladeshriekingasitwheeledoverhead.Atthelegionnaire’srevelation,theAbyssalPrince’sclawcameup.Thechain-glaivesathisshoulderroseandtheroaringbladegunnedbytheTerminatorloomingoverOccamchuggedanddied.‘Doestheserpentspeaktrue?’FirstApostleDrach’VarTalasked.‘AWhiteCrusadegathersbeyondthestorm,’GouraShengksaidfinally.Ahissofinfernalhostilitypassedthroughthegathering.‘TheCorpse-Emperor’spriestsintend to avenge the pious worlds they have lost at our hand. This lordlegionnairehasinfiltratedtheirnumber.’‘Mywarbandissmall,’Occamadmittedtothedaemonprinceandhiscouncil,‘andmyresourceslimited.AlthoughitmightbeheresyforasonofAlphariustoadmit it,my capabilities do notmatchmy ambitions.The frater armies of theCrozierWorlds canbedelayed andwith sufficientmanpower, corrupted.Whywasteblighted souls ina fightwith theEmperor’shordes,whenyoucanhavethem join you above Ghalmek? You can watch the failure of the cardinalwarlordsfromyourverythrone.TheAlphaLegionwould,ofcourse,expecttochoosethemostgiftedforourowncultistranks.’‘Youare in a position todemandnothing,’Zothrac said.The acolyte and theFirstApostlelookedtotheAbyssalPrincewiththerestoftheDaemonCouncil.Occam, too, watched the prince. Themonstrous thing had once been aWordBearerandtacticalintelligencestillglintedinitshorrid,narrowingeyes.‘Wehaveapairofprophetsbeforeus,’ thedaemonprincesaid, ‘tellingusofdoomtocomeandhowvictorymightbesnatchedfromthesnaggle-toothedjawsofdefeat.Well,prophetsmustbe tested, trustearnedandworthmeasured.Wemustknowtheuntruthoftheirfleshandthestrengthoftheirspirit.Letthembetestedonthestar,outontheConstellationFields.Letthemfeelthelightofourbenightedsunandthegazeoftheprimordials.’‘Whatof the serpent’s ship?’Zothracasked. ‘It sitsunder theHighApostle’sguns.’Drach’VarTallookedbetweenhisprinceandhisacolyte.‘Letthembetestedalso,’Drach’VarTalsaid.Henoddedatthehulkingsentries.

As Occam and Goura Shengk exchanged unreadable glances, Word BearersTerminatorsgrabbedthemfrombehind,thechainbladesoftheirglaivesrestingon their shoulders. Dragged around and out of the presence of the AbyssalPrince, the pair weremarched out of the throne room and down the obsidiansteps.UnderOccam’sbreath,hesaid:‘Didyougetthat?’Theencryptedvox-channelhehadopenedwiththeRedactedashecameintoland had been kept open, allowing Occam’s legionnaires to eavesdrop on thejudgementoftheDaemonCouncil.‘We’llbeready,’Hasdrubalpromisedthestrikemaster.‘Letmefollowyou,’VilniusMaliksaid,hisvoxsignalmuchstrongerthanthesergeant’sstrugglingfromorbit.‘No,’ Occam hissed. ‘Proceedwith the plan. Do your duty. Allowme to domine.Occamout.’

πSHEDDINGSKIN

Up on the command deck,Mina Perdita stoodwith the lord sergeant and thesorcerer Carcinus Quoda. With the shipmaster, they all watched as daemonconstructsanddiabolists inritualenvironmentsuitsgatheredalongthegirders,transeptsandplatforiaoftheorbitaldocks.TheIota-Æternushadtakenitsplacethereunderthegunsofthemonstrousbattleshipandamongthehalf-constructeddaemonshipsoftheWordBearersfleet.The Redacted watched as runes glowed to life along the length of thepartitioningstructures,whiledeviantconstructsanddiabolistsencircled theQ-ship and began conducting dark rituals. Holding plasma torches, daemonconstructsdriftedacross to the Iota-Æternusandburnedsigils into thepaintedhull.‘What are they doing?’ Naga-Khan asked, fearful for his ship. SergeantHasdruballookedtothesorcererforguidance.‘What they are doing to the metal and machine-spirits of these otherunfortunatevessels,’Quodasaid.‘TheWordBearersarepreparingIota-Æternus.Pollutingit.Makingitahostfordaemons.’‘Wecannotjuststandherewhiletheyforcethisvesseltobepossessedbysomemonstrousentity,’Perditasaid.‘Agreed,’theshipmastersaid.‘Letmeputonasuitandclearthemfromthehull,’theAssassinsuggested.Hasdrubalwatchedthecyberneticcreaturesscuttleacrossthehullandburnintoittheirdarkrunesofdaemonicsummoning.‘We cannot risk provoking theWord Bearers,’ the sergeant said. ‘Not whileLordOccamisonthesurfaceandtheprizeisstillintheenemy’shands.’‘Alsonotwhilewesitunderthatbattleship’sguns,’thesorcererQuodasaid.As klaxons erupted across the bridge,Naga-Khan rushed back to his cultist-

mannedrunebanks.‘Whatisit?’Hasdrubaldemanded.‘Whathavetheydone?’‘The Geller field is collapsing,’ the shipmaster called, his alarm obvious.Perditawatchedashemovedfrombanktobankgivingorders.Hemovedtoanengineeringrunebankand tore thecultistmanning itaside.Franticallypushinguponathick-sethandlethatappearedlockedinadownwardorientation,Naga-Khanattempted to reinstate the field fromthebridge.Throughgritted teethhecalled:‘Can’traisethefieldfromhere.’ThesergeantturnedtoQuoda.‘What can we expect?’ Hasdrubal said. As he did, channels opened andvoxhailers shrieked with the sound of warp entities infecting the ship’scommunicationsystemswiththeirmadness.‘Expect anything,’ the sorcerer said. ‘The daemon entities of this benightedplacewillmaketheIota-Æternustheirown.’‘Sound the alarm,’ Hasdrubal told Naga-Khan. ‘I want all operatives andSeventhSonsarmedandonhighalert.’‘Affirmative.’‘Canwegetwordtothewarpsmith?’thesergeantasked.‘Theship’svoxsystemisoverrun,’theshipmastersaid,movingfromrunebanktorunebank.Hasdrubal turned to Perdita. ‘Get down to the enginarium,’ he ordered.‘Appraisethewarpsmithofthesituation.TellhimweneedtheGellerfieldbackonlineorwe’regoingtolosetheship.’Taking a last look at the diabolists and daemon constructs conducting theirritualsabouttheIota-Æternus,Perditaturnedandboltedacrossthebridge.Theshipwasinuproar.Alarmshadalertedthecultistcrewtotheemergency.Asshebolteddownpassagewaysandacrosschambers,theAssassintookadvantageofherpetiteformandquickstep.Dartingleftandrightthroughthrongsofheavy-set cultists and hurdling equipment, shemoved through themwith slick ease.Loading needle pistols with their deadliest toxins and drawing blades fromenvenomed belt sheaths, the Seventh Sons prepared themselves forwhat theycouldonlyexpecttobeaboardingaction.PerditapoundeddownthecorridorsoftheQ-shipandbegantorealisehowmistakentheywere.The Iota-Æternus felt as if it were in pain. The voxhailers howled insanitywhile deck lamps flickered. Bulkheads opened and closed. Electrics sparked.Theexcruciating soundofmetalwarping rang through the superstructure.Thevesselwashurting.Changing.

As theAssassinmoved through the havoc the calls of death cultists echoingdownthecorridorsturnedtoscreams.Cultistsfiredtheirneedlepistolsintothesentience of walls and floors and slashed at grasping tendrils of cable.Everything creaked horribly as themetal of chamberwalls and floorswarpedandbecameribbedliketheinteriorofananimal.Corridorsspasmedandquaked.Cablingthatranacrossmeshfloorsbegantosliver.Perditaaccelerated,leapingoverlinesandcablesthatreachedoutforher.Sherolled under closing bulkheads that were sprouting huge daemon fangs andcleared ladderwells that closed on climbing cultists, shearing them in two.SeventhSons reached out for her in panic and terror as cells swallowed themwhole. Themetal of the walls stretched about the claws and horned faces ofdaemoncreaturesmaterialisingwithinthebodyoftheship.TheAssassinrolledacrossthetremblingdeck.Asshedid,acultistsankdowninto the metal as though it were quicksand, dragged down by daemon clawsslurpingupoutofthefloor.Completingtheroll,PerditasnatcheduptheneedlepistolandbladeleftbehindbythesinkingSeventhSon.BythetimetheAssassinreachedtheenginariumsection,theentireshipseemedpossessedbyrampantdaemonicentitiesinfectingitsspiritandviolentlywarpingits architecture.When she arrived at the section doors she found that a hugesmouldering hole had been blasted through them. Within she could seeAutoliconPhexwithhisheavyplasmagunblazingglobesofsub-atomicenergyintoanypartofthewallsandfloorthatmoved.‘It’sPerdita!’shecalledbeforehookingherfingersabouttheblasteddoorsandpulling them open. As she did, odious tendrils reached out for her from theopening.Entwining themselvesabouther limbs, the tentaclesof themonstrousdooraimedtoholdherintheirweb.Flashingleftandrightwithherrecoveredblade,theAssassinslashedattheappendages.Piecesdroppedandwrithedonthefloor,andsnakingstumpssplatteredPerditawithichorasshetoreherselffree.‘What are you doing here?’ArkanReznor demanded, thewarpsmithmovingbetweencolossalpiecesofequipment.Healternatedbetweenworkingfeverishlywithhis toolsandburyinghisOmnissianaxes in the flesh-metalofmachinerygainingdaemonicsentience.‘Thelordsergeantsentme,’Perditasaid,duckingbeneathBeta,ZetaandTheta,whodriftedabouttheengineeringchamberattemptingtoaidtheirmasterinhisfutilerepairsandrecalibrations.Reznorgaveheranimperiousglare–theindicationthathehadlittleuseforanAssassinintheenginarium.

‘Thevoxsystemisdown,’shesaid.‘Iknowthat,’thewarpsmithtoldher,indicatingwiththebladeofanaxe.Thesectionvoxhailerswerescreamingandchantingtheirinsanityallaround.Reznorretreatedfromaninfernalmawthathadopenedinthepipe-linedsectionofwallhewasworkingon.Swingingoneofhiscracklingaxesaround,heburiedit inthemonstrousfaceforminginthepieceofmachinery.‘Phex!’As Reznor indicated the ceiling over the legionnaire, Phex looked up to seeanotherdaemonorificeopeningabovehim.Chitinousclawsandfeelersreacheddownfor therenegadebutPhexaimedhisheavyplasmaskywardandpumpedseveral blinding orbs into themanifestation. Swallowing the raging blasts, thedaemonshriekedbeforedrenchingPhexinashowerofsteamingblood.‘TheWordBearersareconductingsomekindofritualabouttheship,’Perditatold him,moving through servitors and deck seers that had been assisting thewarpsmith.‘TheLordSergeantandtheshipmastersaytheyneedtheGellerfieldbackonline.’‘Whatdoyouthinkwehavebeentryingtodo?’Reznorcalled,turningtochopahorrifictalonfromanappendagereachingoutforhim.Thedeckbeneaththebootsofseveralservitorsappearedtospoilandsoften.Theservitorssankintheliquidmetalwhileinhumaneyesopenedinthewalls,entrancingenginseersanddrawingthemtowardsthemorphinghorrorofthepossessedmachinery.Asdeckcabling writhed to serpentine life and coiled about Perdita’s slender leg, theAssassin stabbed her blade into the rancid tentacle, pinning it to the floor.Infernalrunesspreadacrossthesurfacesoftheengineeringchamberlikearash,whileahowlingmouthopenedinthewallbesidePerdita.Itblazedlikeafurnaceand threatened to vomit forth sickly flame. Pointing her needle pistol into themaw,sheemptiedtheweaponintothesoftflesh-metalofthemouth,causingittoshrivelandclose.Leaping over bubbling sinkholes in the deck, the Assassin took positionbetweenPhexwithhisragingheavyplasmagunandthewarpsmith.A tentacle-likeappendage, thickandcovered inbarbedsuckers, erupted fromthewallnearby,forcingReznortoduckandPerditatoleanoutofitsrancidpath.Phex was not so fortunate. The grotesque, muscular limb slithered about thelegionnaire’sarmouredformandliftedhimfromthedeck.ThetentaclesmashedPhex brutally back and forth against thewalls and up and down between theceilinganddeck.Withhisplaterentandcrumpled,thelegionnairedroppedhisheavyweapon,allowingitscabletobecomeentwinedwiththetentacle.PerditawatchedinhorrorasthedaemonappendagebrokePhexagainstthecompartment

wall.‘Grabit!’thewarpsmithroared,reachingoutforthetentaclewithhisgauntlet.ItwastheabsolutelastthingthatPerditawantedtodo.Buryinghercultistbladeintotheunnaturalfleshofthemanifestingentity,sheusedittotrytoanchortheappendage.Itbuckedandwrithedlikeagreatserpent.Reznorseizedits lengthwith one gauntlet before going to work with a power axe. The weapon bitthrough thedaemonicbrawnof the thing, spilling ichoron thedeck.With theappendagefinallycutinhalf,bothReznorandtheAssassinstumbledback.OnehalfretractedhorriblyintothepulsatingwallwhilethehalfaroundthegroaningPhexwrithedonthedeck.‘There,’ Arkan Reznor said, pointing down the section with his axe. Perditafollowedthelineoftheweapontoseeahugepieceofarcanemachineryatthefar endof the engineering compartment.Crackling, fat power cables ran fromthesystemandsurroundingauxiliaries.Thepipesreachingupoutofthepieceofmachinerylikeanorganglowedhotwithoverloadingpower.Thearcanesystemitself, meanwhile, was trembling and transforming before their eyes. Shakingwith rage and affliction, it seemed to be fighting itself and everything else,emitting roars of agony and frustration from fang-filled maws opening in itsgrotesqueflesh-metalbodyofthething.‘Whatisit?’Perditacalledback.‘That,’ArkanReznorsaid,‘istheGellerfieldgenerator.’TheAssassinshookherhead.‘Wehavetoabandonship,’shesaid.‘Andgowhere?’Reznorreplied.‘Trustinthestrikemaster–hewillfixthis.’‘Lord warpsmith,’ Perdita said, looking back at the pulsating horror of theGellerfieldgenerator,‘I’mnotsosurethatthiscanbefixed.’

ρSERPENTSBENEATH

VilniusMalikcrunchedacrosstheConstellationFields.AsaNightLordhehadbeenonewiththeshadows,bringingterrortomasses.AsamemberoftheAlphaLegion he had honed his death-dealing skills further,managing to hide in thelight of day andbringdoom tohis enemies.Moving across the surfaceof thedaemonworld,evenhefeltexposed.The skyline was a stabbing silhouette of spires, steeples and architecturalmagnificence:colossalcathedraandtempleaccretiadedicatedtotheDarkGodsofChaos. In thedistance,hellishforgesandmanufactoriaglowedwith thefelllight of industry. Magna-machinery rumbled with daemon possession, whileassembly lines manned by legions of warped servitors and cultist workersspewed forth entity-infested machines of war. Malik had even seen half-constructed God-Machines. The dread Titans – part daemon monster, partabominate machine – festered in their scaffolding, swarming with diabolistsperformingdarkconsecrations.Caustic ash drifted on the foul breeze downwind from the industrial centres.Malikhaddissembledhissophisticatedplate, theceramitescalesbleeding intothesoot-stainedredofGhalmekianWordBearers.Hehad travelleddownwiththe lighter piloted by the strike master. Holding on to the exterior hull andprotectedfromtheworstexcessesofthedescentbyLordOccam’sanglingofthecraft,MalikhadarrivedonthedaemonworldwithouttheknowledgeofGouraShengkorhisWordBearersbrethrenonthesurface.Leavingthecraftandlandingpad,Malikhadcommittedtoaseconddangerousdescent,climbingdownthetumbledownarchitectureofthedarkcathedratowerinfullplate.HidingfromWordBearerssentries,warpedpriestsandthedaemonfiendsthatstalkedthecolossalbuilding,Malikmadeittothesurface–ifsuchathing existed. Beyond the manufactoria and daemon forges, the cathedra and

templedistrictsappearedtobevastedificesof infernalworshipbuiltontopoftheruinandrubbleofformerstructures.Walkingalongaglowingchannelofmolteniron,Malik’sconfidentstridestookhimup through groups of ragged pilgrims, theirwarped flesh further afflictedwith studs, spikes and tattooed runes that smouldered.Moving aside for theirWord Bearers overlord, the cultists allowedMalik to pass unchallenged. Thechanneland thebeatenash track that ranalongsideseemed tobeabifurcatingthoroughfare taking cultists, sacrificial victims and dark cardinals inwretchedfinery between themighty transepts and private chapels of theCathedraNox.Evenservo-skulls,built into theflesh-strippedhorrorofhorneddaemonheads,travellednoisilybackandforthalongthetrack.Fortunately, there were precious fewWord Bearers out on the thoroughfare.Theruling traitorsofGhalmeklargelyrestricted themselves to theunholiestofstructures, leaving the unremitting industry and dark worship of the daemonworldtothecultistsandconstructs.Aboutthetrack,MalikcouldseetheConstellationFields.Eight-pointstarsofRuinoussignificanceturnedlikespiked, ironwheelsonspindle-axlesburiedinthebloodandash.Spread-eagledandlashedtotheslowlyturningframeswerefigures. Itwasdifficult forMalik to tellwho theywere.Someappeared to bepriests and others mutant-cultists. A number even appeared to be decked intwisted plate while many were disfigured by daemonic possession – horns,monstrousclaws,warpedforms.At a junction in both track andmagmachannel,Malikwas forced to cross acrumblingstonebridge.Pushinghiswaythroughagatheredthrongofchantingcultists, the legionnaire sawdiabolist-priestswithglowinggreencensersmoveabout several new additions to the Constellation Fields. While most of thefigureson theChaos stars and the squealingwheels themselveswerecaked incausticashlikestatues,thepairofnewadditionsweremerelydustedgrey.Theyhadbeenpresentedbeforethethousandsofdaemonentitiesstaringdownfromtheshatteredsky.Malikpausedas the throngparted, theirdiabolicalchantingfillingtheair.Onthe first wheel he saw a face he recognised – or rather the absence of one.Lashed to the revolving star,with his head leant back,was theDarkApostle,GouraShengk.Theruinofhisfacehadassumedthehellishnobilityofadaemonentity. The Dark Apostle’s head now boasted a magnificent set of iron hornsgrowingoutofhisskullandhismuscularbodywasenhancedfurtherbydaemonbulk.Hisfleshwasanestofironbarbs–likethehorns,growingoutfromwhat

Maliksuspectedwasadaemon-warpedskeletonofiron.TheDarkApostle’sfacewas amaskof indescribable ecstasy and torment.Hisdaemonwasoncemoreonewithhisflesh,Malikrealised.The legionnairecouldguesswho thesecond figurewas.Clad inash-smearedplate,LordOccamturnedslowlyonthestarbeneaththegazeofdreaddaemonentities.Raggedcultistschanted.Diabolistswentabouttheirrituals.Asthestrikemaster’sheadlolledaroundonthecreakingwheel,Malik’sbodytensedwithinhis armour. Malik had listened to his commander’s fate over the open vox-channel.He had his orders but LordOccamwas before him now.A prisoner,whosefleshwasbeingoffered–likeGouraShengk’s–fordaemonicpossession.Malik lookedaround.Hiscloak–disguisedasstapleddaemonhide–coveredhisweaponry.He felt for his long-shot plasmagun, his boltgun, grenades andpower blade. He was surrounded by cultists and censer-swinging priests, butthey were nothing to a renegade Space Marine. Within moments, the crowdwouldbeamoundofbrokenbodies.Thelegionnairehesitated.LookingthroughtheforestofChaosstarsstakedoutacrosstheConstellationFields,Malikcouldseeallmannerofdaemons–likewatchdogs–stalkingthroughcontestedsoulsandwarpingflesh.Grotesqueservo-skullshoveredoverhead,theirpict-feedsnodoubt feeding back to theWord Bearers who had ordered such punishments.Beyondthem, in theshatteredskyabove,daemonmonstrositiescouldbeseen.Eyes,inhumanintheirvigilanceandfullofpredatoryintent,wereeverywhere.TheylookeddownontheShrineofIron,everwatchful.The strikemaster’s head came back around again.Malikwas relieved to seethatasyet,Occamhadnotsufferedspiritualinvasionandadamningoftheflesh.The ash about his eyes and head was dark with moisture. Malik could onlyimagine thephysicalexertionof thewheel, the spiritual resistance requiredbythestrikemasterandthetormentsufferedonthestar,asdaemonstriedtoclaimtheirofferedvictim.TearsanddirtybeadsofsweatrolledacrossLordOccam’sshavedheadtodroptothedaemonworldearth.Asthestrikemaster’sheadlolledbackandupsidedown,Maliksawhiseyelidsopen.Atfirst, thelegionnairethoughthismasterwasdead–orworse, thathisbody had become home to some parasitic daemon entity. Malik didn’t findlifeless eyesor theblackdoll’s eyesof apossessedwarrior;he sawglisteningeyes still full of fight and determination. As the wheel turned, Lord Occamshook his head slightly – imperceptible to the diabolists offering his AlphaLegionfleshasavesseltodaemonshungryforthetasteofmortality.Maliksawit,andnoddedhishelmslowlyinreturn.Drawinghiscloakaboutthebulkofhis

plate,thelegionnairepressedonasadrizzleofcrystalsliversbegantofallfromthesky.Followingdirections thatGouraShengkhad sharedwith the strikemasteronboard the Iota-Æternus,Malikmadehisway through theConstellationFields,through the ruinsof the long-collapsedChurchof theRighteousDarknessandbrokeintothecatacomb-archivesbeneaththeCathedraNox.In his disguise, hunched beneath his daemonhide cloak, Malik explored thelabyrinthine nightmare of the Word Bearers’ secret repositories. Thepassagewaystwistedandturned.Somesectionshadcollapsedundertheweightofthefallenstructuresaboveandthemightycathedralontop.The legionnaire moved down through the infernal tombs and catacombs.ThousandsofWordBearershadbeeninterredthere.Warpedbonesandhornedskullssatincoffinsofblastedplate.High-rankingcultistsandbenightedpriestsmadeofferingsinsacrificialchambers.Thefinalscreamsofvictimsslaughteredonobsidianaltarsandthelaughterofappeasedentitiesrangthroughthedepths.Malik passed diabolists dragging feral daemonhosts in silver chains. Cultistarchivists busied themselves recovering dread texts for their Word Bearersmasters and cataloguing dark artefacts. Daemon creatures stalked through thelabyrinthontheirownfoetidbusiness, theunholyglowof theireyesvisible inthe distant darkness. As a Word Bearers acolyte appeared out of the sameimpenetrable gloom,marching in the other direction toMalik, the legionnairekept his head down. Speaking in a strange tongue that the Alpha Legionrenegade didn’t understand, the acolyte came to a creaking stop in the fadedinfernalgloryofhisornateplate.Lookingaboutforskulkingdaemonsandtome-ladenarchivists,Maliksteppedintoacatacombalcoveanddirectedtheacolytetofollowwithhisgauntlet.Eveninhisdaemonworlddialect,thelegionnairecouldtellthattheWordBearerwasupset. Stepping after him with rasping remonstrations spilling from his helmgrille,theWordBearerclosedwithhim.Spinning around, Malik grabbed the traitor about his armoured throat andpushed him back against the crumbling stone of the alcove wall. Pulling hispowerdaggeroutfrombeneaththefoldsofhiscloak,Malikbroughttheweaponupwithforceandprecision,hammeringitintotheWordBearer’schest.Heheldhimthereforamoment likeanassassin, intendinghisfoe todiequietly in thecorner.AstheWordBearerheavedbackwith thestrengthofanaltered,Malikbegan to realise that he had underestimated his enemy. Forcing the AlphaLegionnaire against the opposite wall of the alcove, their armoured boots

scufflinginthedustofthecatacombs,theacolyteplungedhisgauntletdownintohisholstertoproduceanancientboltpistol.Slashing the power blade down like amachete,Malik hacked the pistol andgauntletoffatthewrist.Withtheweapononthefloor,thelegionnairebattedtheWordBearer back.Slamminghim into thewall oncemore, he held him thereand stabbed the traitor again and again in the breastplate.With his corruptedhearts ruinedandgorecascadingdownhisplate, theacolyte slippeddown thewall.Malikheldhimthe precioussecondsittookforhisraspingbreathstocometoahaggardstop.Heavingthearmouredcorpseintoanemptycatacomb,Malikkickedatthedisintegratingwalltoburythepuddleoftell-talegoreinrockdustandrubble,beforeswiftlymovingon.Crookedcorridorsledthelegionnairetovastlibraries,wherethestoneshelvescrumbledbeneaththeweightofdamnedtomes,grimoiresandtractswrittenbycorruptedcardinals,DarkApostlesanddaemonprinces.Ashedescendeddown through thecursedearthof thedaemonworld, realitybegan tobreakdown.Upbecamedown,withdislodgedstones falling towardstheceiling.Shadowturnedtoablindingdaemoniclight.Thetwistingcorridorsbecamefilledwithaghostlyfire,throughwhichMalikwalked.GouraShengk’sdirectionseventuallyledthelegionnairethroughsentientstonegates and a portcullis that rumbled at his approach. In the depths of thecatacomb-archives, with the walls, floor and ceiling covered in the scribbledmadnessofincantations,Malikcametoanetworkofhalf-collapsedcaverns.Theairwasthickwithancientevilandtheverystoneofthecrumblingstructurefeltinfestedwith the presence of infernal entities.The floors of the archiveswerecoveredinChaosstars,pentagramsandcirclesofglowing,unholyrunes.Theyoverlapped and intersected like a diagram. In each, Malik saw there werecollectionsofmoulderingartefacts.Ancientweaponrypossessedbyevilspirits.Blasphemousrepresentations,drapedwithcharmsandreligiousiconsveneratingDarkGods.Hereticaltechnologiesofhumanandxenosoriginthat crackledandinteractedunnaturally.Cursedobjectsandcontainersleakingfoulcorruptionintooneanother.AsMalikprogressedthroughthecaverns,objectsmovedoftheirownaccord.Artefactsseemedtowhispertheirdepravitytohim.Chambersseemedtorepeatthemselves.Eventuallythelegionnairecametoacentralhub–acavernwhoseobsidianpillarsheldupthestrataofcrushedruinsandtheweightoftheCathedraNox.Thedarknessoftheobsidianswirledwiththestrengthofhorrificentities.The chamber was busywith cultists. Senior diabolists in robes of black and

gold chanted unholy litanies about altars andDarkMechanicum technologies.Daemon cyborgs in ragged robes, leaking the filth of corruption, worked onruinous artefacts and entity-infused technologies. Hideous, horned monsterswatched their progress while a pair of Dark Apostles in bleeding plate gaveinstructions in the sameGhalmekian tongueMalik had heard spoken by otherWordBearers.Thiswasn’t going to be easy, the legionnaire decided,moving back into theadjoining chamber. Looking about, Malik started pulling melta bombs frombeneathhiscloak.Primingtheirtimers,thelegionnairecreptcarefullyaboutthecirclesofdamnedartefactsandbegansettingthemuponcrumblingpillarsandtherustedstructuralsupportsabouttheentrances.Advancingintothecentralhubandaroundthechoirsofcultists,Malikmarkedtimebywatchingthedaemonpriestsof theDarkMechanicumworkononeoftheir foul instruments. On an altar contained within a framework-globe ofinterlinkedChaosstars,Malikspottedthepieceofancientxenostechnologythatthe strike master had described to him. It was small enough to be held in agauntlet.Amidnightblackpolyhedroninslickmotion,withsectionscontinuallyrevolving,unlockingand interlocking to formnewshapes.Withmovingedgesoutlined in an eye-stinging green radiance, the alien object hinted at a strangesourceofenergywithin.This was the Tesseraqt – the object Omizhar Vohk had described to LordOccamandLordOccamtothelegionnaire.Understandingittobesomekindofcontainment field generator,Malik tried to get a better look. Goura Shengk’sWordBearershadstolentheartefactfromtheInquisitionandreturnedit totheShrineofIron:nowDarkMechan icumpriests,diabolistsanddaemoncreatureshadtakenaninterestinthedreaditem.Bombardingitwithcurse-fields,rancidaugursandritualceremony,thecatacombarchivistswereintentonfindingawayintothepieceofalientechnology.With his back to one of the obsidian columns,Malik attached a final meltabombtotheimpossiblestructure.WithalleyesontheTesseraqthethenedgedunnoticed towards a chamber exit not rigged to blow. As he did, one of thedaemon monsters observing the delicate investigations of the priestsmomentarilysniffedtheair–asthoughhecouldsmellMalik’sintentionsorthestenchofunwarpedflesh.The detonations in the first chamber went off, melta bombs vaporising thestructuralsupports.Thecavernsshook.Athunderrolledthroughthecatacombs,followedbyadustcloud thatbillowed through thehub.Theair thickwith the

sound of pulverising rock and dust, Malik withdrew further and cycled hisoptics. Moving between spectra filters that showed the cultists, priests anddaemonicentities,thelegionnaire’saugmentedvisioncutthroughthemurk.Hewatchedthegatheringbackawayfromtheentrancetothecollapsingchamberinshock.Eventherobeddaemonsseemedskittish,themalevolenceoftheirbruteformsstandingnomorechanceofsurvival if theCathedraNoxcamecrashingdownonthemthantheweaklingcultists.As the rumbling faded and the air thickened, the priests of theDarkMechanicum began to take stock of the disaster. Malik heard the DarkApostleson theirvox-links,communicatingwithbrotherson thedaemonworldsurface. While surprised by the event, none of the gathering panicked. Thedetonationhadbeen lost in theunfolding thunderof thecollapse,whichMaliksupposed was inevitable from time to time. Also, given the volatility of thepossessed artefacts and xenos technologies stored in the catacomb-archives,explosiveinteractionwasalwaysapossibility.Whenthefinalmeltabombtookout part of the obsidian pillar, however, caution prevailed. Cultists fled thechamber. TheWord Bearers withdrew, their communications with the surfacebecoming evermore urgent.Daemonic creatures slunk back into the shadowymurk of other chambers while Dark Mechanicum priests hastily started topreparetheTesseraqtfortransportation.Malik ventured forth. Having partially collapsed the adjoining chamber bydesignandleavingallothermightypillarsofthehubintact,thelegionnairewasconfidentinhisadvance.Stridingthroughescapingcultists,whosimplytookhisarmouredoutlinetobeoneoftheirWordBearersoverlords,hemovedinonthepriests.As their sickly optics blinked incomprehension,Malik put them downone by one. Thudding silenced Stalker rounds from his bolt pistol into thehooded, cranial cogitators of the Dark Mechanicum priests, the legionnairescoopedupthebarbedglobeofChaosstarsdroppedbytheseniorconstruct.Hesmashed it into thegroundand the ironcage fell apart.The forces suspendingtheTesseraqtwithinwerebroken.Pickinguptheblackcube,Maliksawthat itcontinuedtotransformontheoutstretchedpalmofhisgauntlet.Ashestaredatthealienobject,theAlphaLegionnaireheardtheinfernalgrowlof daemons stalking him through themurk. They sniffed at his betrayal withflarednostril-slitsandwatchedhimwith theburningof theireyes.HesecuredtheTesseraqtonhisbelt.Positioninghisboltpistolunderonearm,heaimedtheweapon through his cloak at their skulking approach.Malik could hear clawsscraping on the archive floor and knew hewas being rushed. The legionnaire

blastedatthemonsters,pumpingboltroundsthattorethroughthematerialofhiscloak. Feeling one fell creature at his back, he spun around and dropped hispistol.Hegrabbedhisplasmagun, turnedandblazedastaccatoofclose-rangeorbsintothethinguntil,shriekingandthrashing,thedaemonwasblastedback.Boundingoverthebodiesofitsinfernalkindred,ared-fleshedfiendbargedthesuffering creature aside and launched itself at Malik. Moments later, thelegionnairefoundhimselfcrashingtothefloor–thesavagedaemontearingintohimwithsnaggle-fangedjawsandclaws.Withhisplasmagunknockedaside,Malikgrabbedthethingbythethroatandtriedtopushitupandawayfromhim.Thebeastwaswildwithinfernalstrengthand fury, clawing and snapping at the legionnaire. Patting the rubble-strewnground nearbywith his other gauntlet,Malik found hisway to his abandonedpistol.Snatching itup,he thrust themuzzle into the red fleshof thecreature’ssideandthuddedroundafterroundintothedaemon’sunnaturalflesh.Still, themonstercameathim.Asthepistolclunkedempty,Malikallowedittofallaway.Slippinghispowerbladefromitssheathonhisbelt, thelegionnairestabbedatthecrateredruinofthebeast’smidriff.Withichorstreamingdownhisgauntlet,Malikthrusttheweapondeepintothemonster,rippingthroughitsinnardsuntilfinallyitssavagerysubsidedanditslouchedstillontopofhim.Heaving the daemon’s corpse off his torn plate, Malik got back to his feet.Sheathing his blade and recovering his battered plasma gun, the legionnairerecoveredbothhispistolandthealienTesseraqt.Heaimedtheglowingbarrelofhisweaponthroughthemurkanddust.Allabouthim,thestructurecreakedandcracked.Thestoneofcolumnsandancientwallswasbeingslowlypulverisedbythecolossalweightof theCathedraNox.Confident that theWordBearershadwithdrawn tosafetyand thatnomoredaemonentitiesstalkedhim through theobscurity, Malik left the chamber. His mission complete, the legionnairescrabbledthroughthethickdustandrubble,makingforthesurface.

σPOLITICALANIMAL

OccambecameawareofdeviantsoulsgatheringoutontheConstellationFields.Hehadlittleideahowlonghehadbeenturningonthecreakingironwheel.Withhis armouredwrists and ankles lashed to theChaos star, the strikemaster hadbeenoffered to thedaemon swarmglinting in the shattered skiesofGhalmek.Themalevolenceofcorruptentities,reflectedintheshardsofcrystallisedwarpsmotheringtheplanet,hungeredforOccam’sspirit.Theyfoughtforpossessionofthestrikemaster’ssoulashisplateandtherevolvingstarbecameencrustedwith a mixture of ash drifting down from the manufacturing districts and adrizzleofsilverslivers.Ithurttoopenhiseyes.Thelidswereheavywithafatiguebothphysicalandspiritual.Underamaskof settledash,his faceachedas theperpetual spiritualagony twisted his expression. About him, Occam saw that priests, warpedpilgrims and robed daemons had gathered on the track running alongside toobserve his torment. Diabolists chanted and droned, while armoured WordBearersstoodguardnearby.Astimepassedthenumbersandinterestgrew.Turningonanotherstarnexttohim,OccamwasawareofGouraShengk.Whilethestrikemasterfoughtoffthesoul-starvedattentionsofdaemonicentitieswitheveryounceofhisbeing, theWordBearerhadfreelyofferedhimselftothecorruptingdarkness.Hegroanedcontinuously, his gasps and cries a haunting catalogue of unimaginableexperiences, a simultaneous agony and relief that wracked theWord Bearer’sbody.EntitieshadfoughtoverShengk’ssoullikesomekindofprize.OccamhadlistenedasaconqueringdaemonwormeditswayintotheWordBearer’sbeing.Taking residence in his flesh and becoming possessed of Shengk’s soul, themonstrousentitymadetheWordBeareritshome.OccamhearditsvoicemixedinwiththeDarkApostle’sown–itsgleethreadingthroughhissufferings.The

strikemasterlistenedtothehorriblerupturingofflesh,thewarpingofboneandthegrowthof clawandhorn.All thewhile,GouraShengkbecame somethingelse:athinghehadbeenbeforeOccamhadrescuedhimfromtheexorcistsandinterrogatorsoftheInquisition.AsforOccamhimself,hehadfelt thetugofdaemonstearingathissoul.Hisears were full of infernal threats and promises, while a living nightmare ofdaemonic visions played before his eyes. He felt the predatory intentions ofentitiesattemptingtocorrupthissoulandinfesthisflesh.Allfailed.Occam’s soulwas strong. Fortified by his secret faith andwith his soul stillpledgedtotheGod-Emperor,theAlphaLegionstrikecommanderwithstoodthetemptations of darkness and futures promised to him, and the monstrosity ofdaemons attempting to force their way into his being with spiritual savagery.Despite the tormentsof soul and flesh,Occammanaged to resist themall.Hehadtakenprecautions.Summoning the High Serpent and the best inkers among the Seventh Sons,Occam had lain naked across the altar within the Chapel of the ImmaculateAscension. With needles stabbing across the surface of his skin, Occam hadorderedthatthedeathcultiststranscribeontohisfleshtheancienthexagrammicwards, purity seals, extracts from the Lectitio Divinitatus and sigils ofbanishment that decorated both the altar itself and the recovered flagssurrounding the holy object. Like something unnatural in a sea of swarmingbehemoths, Occam was swallowed and spat out by creature after daemoniccreature. His soul burned those entities attempting to smother it with theirtentacled embrace, while his flesh was better protected from daemonicpossessionbytheinkedwardsandsigilsthanbyanyplateorfield.Fightingtostayawake,Occamresistedtheexhaustionofhiscontinuedeffortsandkeptopeninghisash-encrustedeyelids.Every timehedid,hesawthat thegatheringhadgrownabouthim.Morecultistsanddarkpilgrims.Foulcardinalswiththeflocks,cometopraybeforethealtarofafflictedforms.Feelinghandsandclawsabouthisarms,thestrikecommanderopenedhiseyes.Thecrowdwasnowpunctuatedwithhulkingfiguresindullredplate.Anumbershared their genetically engineered forms with horrific entities. Monstrousdaemonicbrawnspilledfromtheirarmour.AmongstthereverentialgatheringofdeviantsandWordBearers,Occamcouldseeapartyfromthecathedra-palace.MembersoftheAbyssalPrince’scourtstoodby,watchingthestrikemasterashewas taken down from the Chaos star. Daemon monstrosities waited in grandrobes while overlords of the Word Bearers stood sentinel. Occam could see

Zothrac of the Graven Gate and Drach’Var Tal, First Apostle of the DaemonCouncil. Neither looked pleased. On a huge iron palanquin, incorporating abarbed throne, sat the grotesque figure of theAbyssalPrince ofAll-Ghalmek.Thepalanquinwascarriedbyhundredsof flagellant cultists and theweightofthemonsteraboveappearedconsiderable.Cultists swarmed aboutOccam, flicking unholy oils at his ash-smeared plateandtracingdarksymbolsacrossitssurface.Standingonthebacksoftwoothers,acultistplacedOccam’shelmetonhisheadandlockedthesealsinplace.Ashedid, Occam’s head turned and he saw that Goura Shengk had similarly beentaken down from his star. Cultists were gathered about the Dark Apostle,assembling a suit of spiked plate about his abominate form. Shengk lookeddifferent. Bigger. His body had been favoured with the warped blessings ofChaos.Adaemonicentityhadtakenresidenceinhisengineeredform.Theblackruin of his frostbitten face had changed. It was now an infernal nightmare offang, nostril slits and straight horns vaulting forth from amalformed skull.Anetworkofblackscarringstillafflictedtheapostle’sredcheeksandthinlips.Zothracof theGravenGate stepped forthbutDrach’VarTalplaced a clawedgauntlet on his pauldron and pushed forward instead. He looked up at theAbyssalPrince,whonoddedhishornedhead.‘GouraShengk,’FirstApostleDrach’VarTalannounced,promptingthecultistsabouthimtoscatter.‘Youhavebeenofferedtothebeyond.Youhavebeentestedon the ruinous star,beforeaconstellationofyourdaemonpeers.Your failureshavebeenforgivenandyouareoncemoreonewiththedarkness.’GouraShengklookedtoOccamandgavehimafang-filledgrin.Intheswirlingblacknessofhiseyes,thestrikemastersawtheglintingpresenceofthedaemonentitythatnowlivedwithintheDarkApostle.‘We are honoured to serve the dark powers,’ Goura Shengk told the FirstApostleandhisAbyssalPrince,‘asbothdaemonandBeareroftheWord.’‘As we are honoured,’ Drach’Var Tal said, ‘to welcome Morphidax thePrimordialbacktotheworldoffleshandGouraShengktohisrightfulplaceattheChapterheadoftheBarbedOath.’‘This unnatural thing that you brought before us, however,’ Zothrac said ofOccam,‘hasnotbeenfavouredbyourdaemonoverlords.Hehasresistedtheirattentions.Theyareangeredandinsulted.’‘Wearesurprisedthattheserpenthadsuchstrength,’GouraShengktoldthem.‘The Abyssal Prince has sanctioned your return,’ Drach’Var Tal told GouraShengk, ‘as Dark Apostle of the Barbed Oath and to your daemon ship, the

DissolutioPerpetua.HewishesyoutohaltthisWhiteCrusadeandtouseyourbrothersoftheWord,yourcultistsanddaemonstospreadourdarknessthroughthe ranks of the Corpse-Emperor’s servants. Turn them against their priestlylords.CorrupttheirpurposeandleadtheminpilgrimageintothestormandbacktounholyGhalmek.Willyoudothis?’‘Ishalldietrying,myAbyssalPrince,’GouraShengkpledged.‘You had better,’ Zothrac of the Graven Gate said, ‘for if you fail us again,GouraShengk,you shallbe tornapart–bodyand soul–by theverydaemonlegionswhofoughtfortherighttoinfestyourflesh.EvenMorphidaxwillnotbeabletosaveyoufromthemandthewrathofyourbrothers.’‘Weunderstand,’GouraShengktoldthem.‘Whatoftheserpent?’‘Supportforyourreinstatementwasnotunanimous,’Drach’VarTalsaid.‘Someamongthedaemonlegionsbelieveyourheartsconflicted–thatyoudonothavethestrengthtodowhatmustbedone.’‘Theserpentwillbeofferedtotheminyourstead,’Zothracsaid.‘Thespillingofhisbloodshallrituallyanointyournewendeavourwhilethespiritualsavageryofhisendshallappeasethewrathofourdaemonoverlords.Already,hisbrotherserpentsfightbodyandsoulaboveusasentitiesunleashedpossesstheirpitifulvesselandmetalturnsonflesh.’Occam stepped forward. As he did so, Word Bearers in Terminator platestiffened and aimed their boltgun-mounted glaives at the Alpha Legioncommander.‘Youseemtohavethisallworkedout,mylords,’OccamtheUntruesaid.‘Butthink on this before you sacrificeme andmymen to your daemon lords andDarkGods.OnlyIknowwheretheWhiteCrusadegathers.Theywaittoventureforth into thestormandhunt thesonsofmightyGhalmekdown.OnlyIknowwherethecombinedfraterforcesoftheCrozierWorldsaregatheringandunlessyouknowexactlywhere,youwillnotfindtherendezvousintimetostopthem.Oneword fromme, utilising the same disguise as I used in gathering such aWhite Crusade, and they will wait – growing bored and impatient – fertilegroundinwhichtheBrothersoftheWordcansowbetrayalandspiritualdissent.Youcannotconvertanarmyalreadyonthemarchtodestroyyou.’The First Apostle and Zothrac of the Graven Gate stepped up onto the ironpalanquin, making the trembling cultists carrying it wince. Approaching thethrone,theyconferredwiththeAbyssalPrince.As they did so, Occam noticed that amongst the growing number of cultistsgathering about the palanquin, another Word Bearer had arrived. The strike

masterrecognisedthemarkingsonhisplatestraightaway.ItwasVilniusMalik.Surreptitiously, the legionnaire shrugged back his camo-cloak to reveal hisplasmagun at the ready, should things not go according to the strikemaster’splan.As thegazeof their opticsmet,Occam sawMaliknodhis helm slowly,indicatingthathismissionhadbeenasuccess.HehadthealienTesseraqtinhispossession.‘Whatareyourdemands,serpent?’ZothracaskedasheturnedtofaceOccamwith hismaster. ‘Think before you speak.You are in no position to overplayyourhandhere.’‘LiketheDarkApostle,’Occamsaid,‘Ionlyseekawaytoserve–butwithmyfleshasmyownandinmyownway.DonotthedarkandperversePowersrevelinsuchvariety?Freemyship,mymenandcrew. I shall require them tomeetyourneeds.Sendusonourway.Asheledmethroughthestorm,likeaguide,IshallleadGouraShengktotheprizehehaspromisedyou.Mypitifulvessel,asyoucall it,willbeunder themightygunsofhisdaemonship. I shallgive thefraterarmiestoGouraShengkandhetoyou.Asrecompense,theAlphaLegionaskstorecruitonlythosemostsuitedtothedemandsofserviceinourLegion–asmallsacrifice.And,ofcourse,wewillallbenefitfromthehavocsuchagreatgiftshallbringtheCorpse-Emperor’sempirebyyourhand.Mylords,thisisanopportunityforallwhofightunderthebannerofheretic.’‘Perhapstoogoodanopportunity,’Zothracsaidbeforereturningtoconferwithboth theFirstApostleand theirAbyssalPrince.Finally thedaemonbowedtheextravaganthornsonitshead.‘Boththedecisionandassociatedburdenisyours,’Drach’VarTalsaidfinally.‘Thenwe accept the burden,’GouraShengk said, ‘and shall take the serpentwithusasweventurebackbeyondthestorm.Wewillnotallowhimtofailus.’‘Good,’ theAbyssal Prince said, flames roaring forth from his nostrils as hespoke.‘Forfurtherfailureisyourdoom.Donotlettheserpentslitheraway.TheWordBearers have forgiven you once butwe shall not forget,GouraShengk.Rememberthat.’‘Fearnot,daemonmasters,’OccamtheUntruetoldtheAbyssalPrinceandthegathering. ‘Youwillgetwhat iscoming toyou.TheAlphaLegionwillensureit.’

PARTV

HYDRADOMINATUS

τTOCUTTHEHEADFROMTHEHYDRA

SuspiriaProctorwasacardinalworldandsub-sectorcapitallocatedontheedgeof the Crozier Worlds. With only a few rocky shrine worlds and pilgrimwaystations situated further stormwards, the planet was the closest of theAdeptus Ministorum’s major fiefdoms. This had made the cardinal world alogicalplaceforthefraterforcesoftheEcclesiarchytogatherbeforemountingtheirWhiteCrusade.Occam the Untrue walked the avenues and boulevards of the capital plate.SuspiriaProctorwasagasgiant.Overhead,thesunburstsmearoftheMaelstromdominated the sky, casting in silhouette a blizzard of pilgrim transports andAdeptusMinistorumcarriers.Theyhadarrived fromallcornersof theCrozierWorldsatCardinalTrazier’srequest,eachEcclesiarchicalplanetsendingasmallarmyoffratermilitiatojointheWhiteCrusade.The bilious blues and greens of the cardinalworld’s upper atmosphere ragedlike a stormy ocean beneath the city. The capital plate was made up of aninterconnected network of atmospheric platforia, each supporting a jaggedstratoscapeofspires,steeplesandcathedraltowers.Archedavenuesranbetweenornamental gardens and baroque architecture and over bridges connecting thenetworkofplates.Theairwasfullofthehissofthestormbelow,thecloudsofhigh-speedacidityroilingbeneathlikefuriousdeath.‘InquisitorVanLeeuwen,’aclericintrailingrobessaidashemetOccamontheavenue leading into the Cathedral-Primus. He was flanked by a ceremonialhonourguardofarmouredcrusaders.‘MynameisDeaconBorshach–Iamaide-maximus to the lord cardinal and have been coordinating the arrival of fraterforces above Suspiria Proctor. May I beg your indulgence – there are noweapons allowed in the cathedral.Mymenwill hold onto them for you.Thiswayplease.Mylordwillseeyounow.’

Occamlookedupattheskyswarmingwithcrusadervessels.TheIota-Æternusand theDissolutioPerpetuawere not among them. The Alpha Legion armedfreighter remainedhidden in the system from thegatheredarmadaand systemmonitors.Itwaitedintheshadowofoneofthegasgiant’sdistant,pock-markedmoons,closeenoughtoreachthecardinalworldbyshuttlebutnotcloseenoughtoattractunnecessaryattentionfromsnoopingsystemships.TheWordBearersdaemon shipdidnot benefit from theQ-ship’s ability todisguise itself. It hadbeenforcedtowaitontheedgeofthesystemwhereitsunholypresencecouldbehidden from the armada ofAdeptusMinistorumvessels holding station abovethegasgiant.Muchcloser,theIota-Æternushadbeensendingforthanassortmentoflightersand hump shuttles carrying Freydor Blatch and the Seventh Sons to makecontactwith theLowSerpentandhiscultist infiltrators.TheLowSerpenthadlong been hidden amongst the frater billions, planting the necessary seeds ofdoubtandrecruitingoperatives.OccamandtheRedactedhadbeenupononesuchlighter,theiridentitieshiddenbythepsychicmanipulationsofCarcinusQuoda.OnceagainthesorcerermadetheEmperor’sdevout servants think theywere seeing InquisitorVanLeeuwenandhisSpaceMarineentourage,insteadofamotleybandofAlphaLegionnairesandhereticBearersoftheWord.WhilethewarpsmithhadremainedbehindontheIota-Æternustocontinuesupervisingthewarpedvessel’srepairs,AutoliconPhex was still in the infirmary recovering from his grievous wounds. GouraShengk and a pair of possessedWordBearers accompanied theAlphaLegioninstead. Theywere hidden, like theRedacted, byQuoda’s psychic talents andintentoneverythingproceedingsmoothlysothatthebillionsoulsaboveSuspiriaProctormightonedayfightforunholyGhalmek.Surrenderingtheirsubstituteweaponrytothecrusaders–loyalistboltgunsthatcompleted their disguise – the Redacted followed the deacon in through thegrandentranceandacrossthevaultedchambersofthecathedral.WhenOccamsaw that the episcopal thronewas empty, he began to suspect somethingwasamiss.Thecathedralwasvastbutempty.Thecrusadershaddroppedbehindwiththedeaconandtheirweaponry.Occam looked around at Quoda, who was concentrating on manipulatingsurrounding minds and maintaining their illusion. While the strike masterwalkedonceagainintheguiseofVanLeeuwen,therenegadeshadtakenontheappearanceofloyalistSpaceMarinesrecruitedtotheinquisitor’scause.SergeantHasdrubal and Vilnius Malik flanked Occam and kept close watch about the

chambers of the cathedral.Goura Shengk and his two daemonSpaceMarineswereclearlysufferingintheholyenvironsofthecathedral.Theirbodies,twistedwithinfernalbrawnandmonstroushorns,saggedundertheburden.‘Sergeant,’thestrikemastersaid.‘Idon’tlikeit,’Hasdrubalconfessed.‘Enclosed.Toomanyentrances.Withoutourweapons.It’sanambushwaitingtohappen.’‘Malik?’‘Agreed,’theformerNightLordsaid.‘Weshouldabort.’‘BearersoftheWordhavecomeforthesoulspromised,’theDarkApostlesaid.‘Donotloseyournervenow,serpent.’‘Something’snotrighthere,’Occamsaid,theechoofhisslowingstepscarryingthrough the cavernous chambers. He stopped and turned but Goura Shengkgrabbedhisarmtostophim.DespitethedrainingeffectofholygroundandthedaemonSpaceMarine’s suffering, the strikemastercouldstill feelhis infernalstrength.‘We go through with this,’ the Dark Apostle said. ‘We will not return toGhalmekempty-handedagain.’Out of the corner of his optic,Occam saw a figure step out frombehind thecardinal’s throne. It was not the cardinal. Magnifying his gaze, the AlphaLegionnaire realised that he recognised the figure. Hewas staring at himself:InquisitorVanLeeuwen–in thefleshandwalkingtowardsthenewarrivals inhisOrdoHereticusplate.TheinquisitorwasescortedbytwoCelestianSistersoftheAugustVigil.‘I thinkwemayhaveoverplayedourhand,’Occamsaid,shrugging theWordBeareroff.Helookedathissergeant,whohadspottedtheinquisitoralso.Occam’sgazemovedfromtheinquisitortoGouraShengkbutthestrikemasterfoundithardtobelievethattheWordBearerswouldworkwiththeHolyOrdosorviceversa.TheDarkApostlehadtoomuchtogainfromOccam’splan.Thestrike master thought on the cultists under his control and even the renegadeSpaceMarines thatmadeup theRedacted.Theywere traitorsall, to theirownloyalistChaptersandhadmorethanenoughreasontosuspectOccamhimself–thestrikemastersharingwiththeHolyOrdosadevotiontotheGod-EmperorofMankind.No,Occamdecided,butstillsuchadoublecrossdemonstratedthesignatureofthe serpent.Oneway or another, theAlpha Legionwere behind this. PerhapsOmizhar Vohk and the Lord Dominatus, impatient for their precious piece ofalientechnology.

Asarmouredshapesappearedatthearchwaysandentrances,Occambegantocomprehendthetruedepthoftheirdoom.WhileInquisitorVanLeeuwenandtheBattleSistersadvanced,SpaceMarinesinthemagnificenceofdarksilverpowerarmour marched forth from transept openings either side of the Redacted,levellingwrist-mountedstormboltersatthegathering.Theirplatewasdecoratedwiththegloryofetchingsandpurityseals.Fromthemightyarchwayentranceofthe cathedral, Occam saw others approaching in formation: battle-brothers inimmaculate Terminator plate, carrying halberds crackling with otherworldlypower.These were no ordinary battle-brothers of the Imperium. Their armour andweaponrygleamedwiththehonourofagesandtheymovedwithaperfectionofpurpose.Occamcouldalmostfeeltheirdreadconfidenceandpower.The strike master felt the quake of heavy footsteps through the cathedralflagstonesas two toweringwalkers,boasting theirownhugebladesandheavyweaponry,stompedupbehindtheTerminators.‘Quoda?’Occamsaid.‘GreyKnights,’CarcinusQuoda toldhisstrikemaster. ‘BrothersofTitan, therighteousbloodoftheGod-Emperorflowingthroughtheirveins.’Occamsuddenly felt thedaemonclawsofGouraShengkabouthis armouredthroat.TheDarkApostlehadlurchedforhim.‘SoyouthinktoleadusbacktotheInquisitorialdungeons,’Shengkroared,hisvoiceassumingthedarkreverberationofdaemonicpresence.‘AndforfeitonthedreadbargainyoumadewiththeDaemonCouncil.’SergeantHasdrubalandMalikgrabbedanarmeachanddesperatelyattemptedto tear the Dark Apostle from their master. In turn, Shengk’s Word BearersescortstriedtodothesametotheAlphaLegionnaires.‘Iwish Ihad thoughtof that,’Occammanaged, as thedaemonDarkApostlethrottledhim.‘Itmighthavegivenussomethingtobargainwith.’Thesoundofclapping filled thecavernouschamber, the inquisitor’sceramitegauntletsclashingtogetherinapplause.‘There isnohonouramong traitors,’VanLeeuwencalled,hisvoicebouncingaboutthecathedral.‘Hereyoufight,turninguponeachotherintheholytempleoftheGod-Emperor.OccamtheUntrue,strikemasterofthefoulAlphaLegion–from under which rock have you slithered? Goura Shengk, you should haveremainedinthestorm,WordBearer.Youescapedmyclutchesonce.Itwillnothappenagain.’‘Theyknowournames,’Hasdrubalsaid.

‘They probably know a lot more than that,’ Occam said as Goura Shengkreleasedhim.HelookedaroundattheclosingGreyKnights.‘Whichatleasttellsussomething.Theyhadhelp.Dissemble.’There was no point in indulging the deception further. The Inquisition hadthem.ThebestOccamtheUntruecouldhopeforwasthatthesightofrenegadesinAlphaLegionplateand themonstrous,daemonSpaceMarinesof theWordBearersmight rattle the nerves of theGreyKnights. Thiswas no hope at all,sincethestrikemasterknewbetter.ThepsykersonsofTitanwereamongstthebestbattle-brotherstheImperiumhadtooffer.RenegadesandtraitorsweretheirquarryandintheRedactedtheyhadsuchpreyintheirsights.AsQuoda’smanipulationsfellaway,revealingtheRedactedtoallwhohadnotalreadyseenthroughhissorcery,GreyKnightsTerminatorsspreadouttocirclethemwiththepsychicallyattunedbladesoftheircracklinghalberds.BrothersinAegisarmourclosedin, theiroptics linedupwith theirboltguns.Occamcouldseetheglowofammunitionfromtheejectionportsofthevariousweapons–nodoubt some kind of psychically enhanced bolts used by the Grey Knights tocombatwitchbreeds and daemons. Toweringwalkers piloted byGreyKnightspilotsloomedoverhead,aimingtheirappendage-mountedheavyweaponsattheRedacted.‘So,serpent,’GouraShengksaid,hisclawholdingbackoneofhispossessedWordBearerswhowereroaringandspittingattheGreyKnights.‘Howareyougoingtoslitheryourwayoutofthis?’‘How indeed,’ Occam said to himself grimly. Then, when the strike mastercould not conceive that the situation could get any worse, he heard a vox-channelcrackleopeninhishelm.ItwastheIota-Æternus.‘Greetings,Occam,’avoicesaid–avoicethatmadethestrikemaster’sheartsplunge within his chest. A voice he had not heard in some time and neverthoughttohearagain.‘Haveyoumissedme?’Impossibly,QuetzelCarthach–Angelbane,MasterofHarrowsandArch-LordoftheAlphaLegion,wastalkingtohimfrombeyondthegrave.Worse,fromthecommanddeckoftheIota-Æternus.OccamhadburiedCarthachonVitreaMundi,beneaththedemolishedruinsofafortress-monasteryandthehellfireofabattle-bargebombardmentcannon.Howhadhemanagedtosurvive?Carthachdidn’twaitforthestrikemastertoanswer.‘ThatwasquiteasurpriseyouhadinstoreformeabovetheAdeptusAstarteshomeworld,’ the Angelbane continued, his hate-strangled voice strained with

pain.‘Ididn’tthinkyouhaditinyou.Iknowbetternow.Asyoucansee,brother,Ihavereturnedthefavour.Ileaveyouatthemercyofyour enemies–asyouleftmeatthemercyofmine.’

υPOISONEDHEARTS

Ithadallhappenedsofast,evenforMinaPerdita.AsanAssassin,shewasusedto situations unfolding quickly and the need for swift action.Hermindwas awhirloflethalimmediacy,whileherreflexeswerehonedtoarazor’sedge.ShehadlivedamongthedreadSpaceMarinesoftheAdeptusAstarteslongenoughtoknowherlimitations.Theyweregeneticallyengineeredtobesuperior.Theywerebeyondhumaninbodyandmind.Theywerecreatedtobestronger.Faster.Tosurviveallthatthegalaxycouldthrowatthem.Perditahad,ofcourse,killedmembersoftheAdeptusAstartes.Shehadkilledvirtuallyeverysentient thing thathad livedandbreathedwithin thebordersofthe Imperium. Her talents usually gave her the element of surprise. Poison-glazedblades.Weapons secreted in clothing.Death hiding in flesh.This time,however,itwastheenemythatbenefitted.PerditahadbeenuponthebridgewithNaga-KhanandGhesh, theNavigator.Togetherwith thecommanddeckcultistsand theSorcererQuoda’sastropaths,theyhadbeenmonitoringthemission.Therewasagooddealtodo.LordOccamhadledtheRedacteddowntoSuspiriaProctorwithGouraShengktomeet thelordcardinal.FreydorBlatchhadleftwithhundredsofSeventhSons.Theywereready tomakecontactwith theLowSerpentandconsolidate the infiltrationoffrater forces aboard the gathered armada of Ecclesiarchy transports. All thewhile,lightersarrangedbytheLowSerpentbroughtsuppliesbacktotheQ-ship.With them they had brought uninvited guests. Space Marines of the AlphaLegion in shattered plate, led by the monstrous Quetzel Carthach.With theirmissing limbs supplantedwithbasicbionics and their horrific injuriespatchedup, the legionnaires – once exemplars of lethal grace and stealth –were in asorry state. Their legionary colours were soot-smeared and crumpled, whilecracked optics died before blinking back to searing life. Despite their terrible

injuries,ahandfulofAlphaLegionsurvivorshadstowedawayon thevisitinglightersand infiltrated the Iota-Æternus.Killing theirway silently through theship,theyhadburstforthontothesmallbridge–theirbatteredboltgunsblastingapart Seventh Son sentries with the cool nerve and expert marksmanship forwhichtheLegionwasinfamous.Withbarrelsofboltgunspointedatthecommanddeckcultistsandbridgecrew,theAlphaLegionnairesventuredforth.SomewerebatteredSpaceMarineswhileothers were broken altereds in legionary plate. A limping Terminator with areplacement bionic leg moved aside to reveal his master. The Alpha Legionwarlord’s broken body had been pinned and bracedwithin his shattered plate.OnesideoftheAngelbane’sskullseemedsimilarlyreconstructed.Perdita had been on board the Marines Mordant’s battle-barge when it hadopenedfireuponCarthach’spositiondownonVitreaMundi.Theorbitalstrikehad turned the fortress-monastery intoamountainof rubbleandAlphaLegionbodies. Nothing could have crawled out of there alive – or so Perdita hadthought. She, along with Occam the Untrue, had been wrong. They hadunderestimated the Archlord of the Alpha Legion and now he stood on thecommanddeckofthestrikemaster’sship.TheAngelbanecarriedhimselflikeanarmouredpuppetwithcutstrings.Whilehalfhisfaceretainedatraceofitsgenicnobilityandoneeyestillgleamedwithstrategicbrilliance,theotherhalfwasamessofstaplesandstitchingpins.‘Bringhimforth,’theAngelbanehissedthroughhishalf-mouth.Arkan Reznor stumbled forward and crashed to the deck on his armouredknees.Hishelmetwasmissingandhisplatesparkingandbattered.SuchdamagehadbeensustainedresistingCarthach’slegionnaires,Perditareasoned.Hisfacewas bloodied and bruised. When Autolicon Phex appeared behind him, theAssassinwasn’tsurprised.ItmadesenseforCarthachtoneutralisetheremainingmembersoftheRedactedonboardtheship.WhatshedidnotexpectwastoseewasPhexstillcarryinghisheavyplasmagunandlevellingitsgapingmuzzleatthewarpsmith.‘Youtraitorousfilth,’Reznorgrizzledthroughbrokenteeth.Phex could say nothing in return. Instead, he stepped forth and smashed thewarpsmithtothefloorwiththebuttofhisweapon.‘Good, brother,’Carthach said toPhexwith strained appreciation. ‘I couldn’thavesaiditbettermyself.Now,whoisthecaptainofthiscrate?’Whennooneanswered,Carthachusedhisremaininghandtodrawaboltpistolfromaholster.Heaimedtheweaponacrossthebridge,fixingononedeckcultist

after another before reaching Perdita. The Assassin froze. It was not the firsttimesuchaweaponhadbeenpointedatherorevenbyamemberoftheAdeptusAstartes, but she thought it best to act like everyone else who fell under theAngelbane’ssights.‘I am captain of this vessel,’ Naga-Khan said, finally stepping forward.Carthachturnedawkwardlyandblastedtheshipmasterbackacrossaconsole.‘Not anymore,’ Carthach said, before issuing an order to one of his brokenlegionnaires.‘RounduptheNavigatorandastropaths.Theywillbeneeded.’AsthelimpingTerminatormovedby,Perditabackedoutofhispath,usingitasanexcusetoputherbacktothebridgerunebanksandalineofconsolesbetweenher and theAngelbane.Her shoulder brushedup against thebrawnof a deathcultist nearby. His face was taut with expectation. The Seventh Sons wereassassinsallandPerditacouldfeeltheirdesiretokillCarthach.TheAngelbanecarriedhimselfwithobviousagonyovertoacultistataconsoleandrestedthemuzzleofhispistolonthetopofhershavenskull.‘Yourstrikemasterisofftheshiponamission,’theAngelbanesaid.‘Weknowthisalready.Openavox-channel,please.’‘Givethemnothing,’ArkanReznorspat,bringinghimselfbackupoffthedeck.‘Phex!’ Carthach ordered, as though issuing a command to a faithful hound.PerditaknewthattheAngelbanehadtorturedAutoliconPhexhorribly.Shehadheardhissufferingthroughthedoortohiscell.WhileherstrikemasterhadusedsuchtreatmenttosecurePhex’sseemingloyaltyfortheRedacted,Perditacouldseenowthat thedamagehadrunmuchdeeper.CarthachhaddestroyedPhex’sChapterandhadbrokenhisvictimbothphysicallyandpsychologically.HehadturnedPhexintohispersonalplaythingandstillhadtheSpaceMarineunderhiscontrol.Perditacame to thehorrific realisation thatPhexhadbeen feedinghisarchlordinformation.CarthachhadknownofOccamtheUntrue’splansandhisintentiontovisitSuspiriaProctor.PhexsmashedArkanReznorbackdowntothedeck.ThistimePerditaheardacrunchasthewarpsmith’sskullwasfractured.AsCarthachtappedthemuzzleofhis pistol on the deck cultist’s head she opened the vox-channel with theRedacteddownonthecardinalworld.‘Greetings, Occam,’ Carthach seethed across the channel. ‘Have you missedme?’PerditawatchedtheAngelbaneuncomfortablypacethedeck.Hishalf-facewasfixedinamaskofagonyandvengefulglee.‘ThatwasquiteasurpriseyouhadinstoreformeabovetheAdeptusAstartes

homeworld,’theAngelbanesaid.‘Ididn’tthinkyouhaditinyou.Iknowbetternow.Asyoucansee,brother,Ihavereturnedthefavour.Ileaveyouatthemercyofyourenemies–asyouleftmeatthemercyofmine.TheInquisitionhasbeeninformed of your many crimes – your devastation of Adeptus Astartes homeworlds,yourattackontheirveryowninstallationsandtheconsortyoukeepwithdaemon-infestedBearersoftheWord.’‘Carthach,’thevoiceofLordOccamcrackledbackacrossthechannel.‘Listentome–’‘No,’theArchlordoftheAlphaLegionsaid.‘Aswespeak,yourvesselresidesunder my control. Cultist contacts I have made among the frater armies arecurrentlyslaughteringyourHighSerpentandhisinfiltrators.Yourwarpsmithiscoughing up pieces of that gifted brain of his on the deck. And you, brotherOccam–youarefacingeternityinthebowelsofsomeGod-Emperorforsaken,high-security Inquisitorial installation. There you will find others to listen toyou. The Master of Mankind’s stale agents have, as part of their torturousinterrogations, an unending stream of questions for you, brother.Youwill noteat. You will not sleep. And you will not die. I have ensured it. Occam theUntruewillfinallyspeakthetruth.Perhapsweshallalllearnsomething.’‘Reznor?’LordOccamsaid.‘Here,strikemaster,’thewarpsmithmanaged.‘Phex?’‘He’sbetrayedustotheenemy,’Reznorsaid.‘Enoughofthis,’QuetzelCarthachsaid,thunkingacrossthedeckandbringinguphisboltpistol.ThevoxwentquietforamomentasthoughLordOccamwastakinginthebetrayal.‘Theshipmaster?’Occamasked.‘Perdita?’‘Perditaishere,’ArkanReznorsaid,liftinghishead.Bloodfromhisscalpwasrainingdownhisface.‘Theshipmasterisnot.’AsingleshotfromtheAngelbane’sweaponblastedthewarpsmith’sheadfromhisshoulders.‘Reznor?’LordOccamcalled.‘BrotherReznorisdead,strikemaster,’Perditasaid.Carthachturnedandunleashedanotherboltfromhisbatteredpistol.ItblewthecultiststandingnexttoPerditainhalf.WhileblendinginwiththeotherSeventhSonsonthedeck,theAssassinhadassumedamalevoice.‘Understood,’thestrikemastersaidfinally.‘Keepgoing,’CarthachdaredOccam.‘I’llkillthemall.’

‘I’mgoingtokillyou,Carthach,’LordOccamsnarledbackacrossthecracklingchannel.TheAssassin could hear other voices in the distance: imperious callsforthestrikemasterandtheRedactedtosurrender.‘Notfromwhereyouare,’Carthachtaunted.‘Assassin,’LordOccamsaid.‘Canyoucompleteyourmission?’

‘Ican’tkillhim,’Perditasaid.Carthachkilledanotherdeckcultist,andanotherastheAssassinadded:‘Therearetoomanyofthem.’With a haze of gore drifting across the bridge, Mina Perdita found herselfstandingalone.Carthach’sravagedlipsformedahalf-snarl.‘Assassin,eh?’theAngelbanesaid,bringingupthesmokingbarrelofhispistol.‘Thenkilltheship,’LordOccamsaidgravely.‘Myfinalorder.’Perdita ran.Before herwas the engineering runebank. Shewilled herself on,matching her Assassin’s reflexes and morphing musculature to QuetzelCarthach’s aim.One step. Two steps. Three. Skidding down behind a consolesheallowedthestationtoabsorbthemaulingboltfire.Shetriedtoclearherhead.TheGeller field could not be controlled directly from the bridgebut the bankincorporatedanoverrideforemergencies.Thisqualified, theAssassindecided,asboltroundsroaredoverheadandpunchedintothecommanddeckabouther.Withasnarlofdeterminationscrewingupherface,Perditathrewherselfattherunebank.Thesecondsseemedtoslowassheworkeddials,hauledatthethickhandles of levers and stabbed at studs with a finger. As bolt rounds crashedabouther,theAssassinretractedbehindanearbyconsole.Thestationwasrippedapart inashowerofsparks.Perditarolledacrossthepunctureddeck.Kneelingbeforetherunebankshecompletedthecomplexsequence,tearingcircuitboardsoutoftheirslotstoslamthemhomeindifferentports.Withaclunk,ahapticinterfaceopenedintherunebankandPerditaplungedherfist desperately into the enclosure. Like an Iron Maiden for the hand, thebiometric lock skewered her palm and the flesh of fingertipswith needles. AshudderofpainandshockranthroughtheAssassin’sbodybutshewasbeyondsuchsensations.Perdita feltherbody torn tooneside likea ragdoll asbolts fromCarthach’spistol ripped through her body, turning the magnificence of the Assassin’ssurgicaladaptationsintobutcheredandblastedmeat.Shehungtherestill,theinterfaceemittingadullringasitcompleteditsgeneticsampling.Herheadlolledbackonhershoulder.

‘Authoriseandexecute,’theAssassinhissed,thewordsescapinghertremblinglips and reaching the runebank’s vox horn. As her face relaxed, the musclesquivered.Somehowherfacefounditswaybacktotheinnocenceofthegirlwhohadoriginallybeen recruitedby theOfficioAssassinorumandhadbeenslicedupontheTempleslab.Mina Perdita smiled. She had shut down the Q-ship’s Geller field, but inreaching the runebank, had ensured that the merciless accuracy of QuetzelCarthach’sboltroundhaddisabledit.Itcouldnotbereinstatedfromthebridgeand the Angelbane had no time to reach the Enginarium before the horrificconsequencesofheractionstookeffect.As the Assassin’s gore formed a fast growing pool on the deck belowwhatremainedofherblastedbody,shefeltachangeintheship.Shehadexperiencedthis before. Above Ghalmek. She knewwhat dread she was looking for. TheWordBearershadpossessedtheIota-Æternusandallowedthevesseltobecomehosttodaemonentities.Someofthesuperstructureandinternalarchitecturestillboretheevidenceoftheship’straumas.Fang-lineddoorwayssolidifiedinmetal.The horror of twisted girders and passageways. The impression of claws andmonstrous faces frozen in thehull.Ribbed chambers flesh-crafted to resembletheinsideofsomeinfernalbeast.Daemonsstillhauntedthedarkcorridors,whileabominateentitieswaited in theshadows– readyfor theirchance to infest theship oncemorewith theirmadness andmanifestation.Only theGeller field –runningconstantlytomaintainabubbleofrealityinandaroundthevessel–keptthedaemonicpossessionatbay.AsPerditafeltthelifedrainfromherahorriblenewlifetookholdoftheship.A thousand daemonic heartbeats thundered through the superstructure, whilefoul ichor bled up through the decks. The vessel creaked and spasmed itstorment as transformations ripped through its workings. Metal, darkness andflesh became one. Unreality swept like a plague through the Iota-Æternus.Entities, formerly denied, sank their claws into the ship and anchored theirexistence. The ship’s entirety swarmed with the horrid impression of daemoncreatures reaching out from the beyond. Pipes ruptured, filling chamberswithsteam,filthandtheghostlypresenceofmonstrousbeings.Runebankstrembledandsparked furiouslybefore tendrilsburst fromscreensandworkings to seizetheconsolesfromwithin.Across the command deck, the Assassin heard the crash of boltguns.Whiledeckcultistsandastropathswerebeingeatenalivebydaemonicmawsopeninginthedeckandthesoulssqueezedoutofthembybarbedtentacleseruptingfrom

the walls and ceiling, Quetzel Carthach and his remaining Alpha Legionrenegades were answering with firepower. Bolts tore through the infernalworkings andmetallic hide of the daemon ship.Carthach and his Sons of theHydraput bolts between themanyeyesofmonstrositiesmanifestingupon thecommanddeck.Theycut throughgrotesqueappendages reachingout for themandsatedtheappetitesofrancidmawsopeninginthewallsnearby.PerditalistenedtotheArchlordoftheAlphaLegioncallouttotheflesh-metalcreaturesemergingfromtheintensifyingunrealityoftheship.Inthebackgroundhistwistedbrotherhoodweredying.Legionnaireswerebeingimpaledonshaftsofdaemon tuskandhorngrowingup through thedeck.Otherswerebecomingone with the deck as they sank down through the liquefying horror of theirsurroundings.RetreatinglegionnaireswereshearedinhalfbyfangedbulkheadswhileAlphaLegionTerminators screamed as steaming ichor vomited at themfrominfernalorificestomeltthickplateandthefleshwithin.Perdita heard Autolicon Phex grunt horribly as he was seized by theappendagesofsomeabominateentityemergingfromthewalloftheshipnearby.Grabbed by muscular tentacles that snaked their way about plate and limb,Phex’sconvulsingfingerssentwildblastsofplasmaacross thecommanddeckthatburnedintothedaemonhidebranchingthroughthemetalwalls.Theheavyplasmaguncrashed to thedeckashisarmswereprisedapartby theunearthlystrengthofthedaemonicappendages.Amangledscreameruptedfromhislipsasthe tentaclesheavedathisarms, legsandhead.Thehorrible soundwasshort-lived.Momentslater,thetraitor’sarmouredbodywasinsixpieces,eachbeingdraggedcovetouslyaway.As the boltfire died away, Quetzel Carthach’s entreaties became louder andmoredesperate.Therewerenonegotiations tobehador trickerythatcouldbeemployedwithsuchanenemy.TheswarmofdaemonicentitiesthattheAssassinhad unleashed in shutting down the Geller field were soul-famished andmindless in theirsavagery.Theonly interest theyhad in theAngelbanewas topeelplateandfleshfromhisbonesandfeastuponhisrancidspirit.Carthach’swordsbecamea strangled roarasdaemon teeth sprouted from thedeck and ceiling about him. Lamps flashed and shattered, the corner of thecommanddeckbecominganexusofdarkness–thedepthsofamonstrousthroat.TheAngelbaneemptiedthefinalfuryofhisboltpistolintotheoblivionbeforereachingtoholdupthecollapsingroofof thechamber.Hehissedhishatredatthedaemonicmouthclosingabouthim,while theservosandhydraulicsofhisplate strained. One moment he was Quetzel Carthach – proud warlord, dark

legendandAngelbaneoftheAlphaLegion–thenexthewasashriekingmulchofplateandbloodyflesh.Then,hewasnothingatall.MinaPerditafelteverythinggodark.Anestofdaemonictendrilsslitheredfromthesparking runebankandenvelopedher ragged formwithhookedbarbs.Sheprepared herself for the horror to come. She had completed her Temple’smission.Shehadcarriedoutherstrikemaster’sorders.ShehadbroughtanendtothegalacticscourgethatwasQuetzelCarthach.Itwasnowtimetomeetherown.Aslifelefther,theAssassinfeltthetendrilsheaveherblastedbodyintothedaemon-hauntedflesh-metalofthepossessedship.NowallMinaPerditahadtofearforwasherimmortalsoul.

φSERPENTSCHANGETHEIRSKIN,NOTTHEIR

FANGSOccamlistenedtothegunfire,deathandhorror.As the screaming trailed off and the vox became a swarming plethora ofdaemonicvoices,thestrikemasterkilledthechannel.TheIota-Æternusandallonboard–cultists,operatives,SpaceMarines–werelost.Although it was difficult for the strike master to comprehend, he had evenbiggerproblems tocontendwith.QuetzelCarthachmighthave finallymethisendbuthehadleftOccamatthemercyofhisenemies.ThoseremainingoftheRedacted and their Word Bearers allies were unarmed, within the sights andunderthebladesoftheGreyKnights.Occam lookedup at a towering statue of theMaster ofMankind, hismightyform standing astride the transept like a colossus and forming the arch underwhichtheRedactedhadjustwalked.Hisstonevisagelookeddownonallinthecathedralwithan imperiousausterity–AlphaLegionnaires,WordBearersandGreyKnightsintheirmagnificentplateandheavilyarmedwalkers.RegardlessofhisChaptercoloursorthebannersunderwhichhefought,OccamhadalwaysbeenacommittedservantoftheGod-Emperor.Suchfaithcameeasywithinmagnificent structures such as the Cathedral-Primus or encased withinloyalistplate.Itwassomethingelseentirelytobealoyalistintraitor’sclothing:a renegade hated and hunted by all, whose heresywas a belief that theGod-Emperor could be served from beyond such places. To fight deviants fromamongdeviance.Tobattleevilshouldertoshoulderwiththeunholy.HereOccamfoundhimselfoncemore.InconsortwithdaemonWordBearerswhilesurroundedbythoseoftheGod-Emperor’sblood:allunderthefiercegazeofmankind’sMaster.

The strike master looked about him. The Grey Knights, their movementsmeasured but fearless, were closing in. Their psychically charged bladescrackledwhile thebarrelsofwrist-mountedstormbolters remainedfixedupontherenegades.‘It seems you have us caught between an anvil and the Corpse-Emperor’smighty hammer of faith,’ Goura Shengk snarled, ‘and all the while yourlegionarybrothersslitherawaylikesnakes.’‘QuetzelCarthachwasnobrotherofmine,’Occamtoldhim.‘Well,that’sallwellandgood,strikecommander,’theDarkApostlesaid,‘butitseemsyourpast failureswith thisCarthachhavecome tohauntushere in thepresent.’‘Haunt us is all he candonow,’Occam said, looking atSergeantHasdrubal,‘fornowheisdead.’‘SoInote,’GouraShengktauntedbitterly.‘Youarea twistedserpent,OccamtheUntrue–proudandfulloffaith.Wesee,however,thatyouhavefinallymadeyourpactwiththedarkness.Thatuponyourorderyouunleashedthedreadfuryofthedaemonstorm.’The Dark Apostle had listened to Occam’s final order: the order that haddamnedhisshipandbroughtforthdaemonicvengeanceuponQuetzelCarthachandhisSonsoftheHydra.‘Toutilisethepowerofthestormisnottobecomeonewithit,’OccamtoldtheDarkApostle.‘Orders?’SergeantHasdrubalasked.Unlikehismaster,hehadnointerestinaspiritualdebate.LikeVilniusMalik,hecouldnot standby in the sightsof theGreyKnightswithnoweaponsoftheirownandnoplantoprosecute.‘Praytellus,serpent,’GouraShengkhissed.‘Whatisyourplan?’‘Quoda?’Occamasked,hopingtomakeuseofhissorcerer’sdreadpowers.‘TheGreyKnights are psykers all, strikemaster,’ Carcinus Quoda remindedhim.‘Theircombinedpowershavemanytimesthepotencyofmyown.’WiththeGreyKnightslikeaclosingtrapofsilverplate,intentupontakingboththeRedactedandfellWordBearersaliveforInquisitorVanLeeuwen,Occam’sthoughtsracedon.Manytimesthepotency…‘Strikemaster?’VilniusMalikputtohim.Powerofthestorm…‘Occam?’SergeantHasdrubal said as the closingGreyKnights levelled theircracklinghalberdsatthetightgroupofrenegades,forcingthemtogether.

Unleashedthedreadfury…Occam reached into an armoured pouch on his belt and retrieved an objectheavywithitsownaliendarkness.ThealienTesseraqtMalikhadretrievedfromthebowelsoftheGhalmek’spolarcathedral.Theblackcubemovedcontinually,sections opening and interlocking with one another in perpetual and fluidmovement.The cracks in between themovingpieces glowedgreenwith alienpower.Occamknewittobethegeneratorofsomeexoticcontainmentfield–apieceofxenostechnologythattheLordDominatusdesiredforhisownnefariousneeds.GouraShengk,however,hadinformedOccamthattheTesseraqtalreadycontained a powerful entity in its alien field – a monstrous daemon that thediabolists and Dark Mechanicum priests of Unholy Ghalmek had madepreparationstoreceive.TherewouldbenosuchceremoniesonSuspiriaProctor.Occamjabbedhisceramitethumbintodepressionsonthesixsidesofthecube.As it transformed in his gauntlets, new surfaces presented new depressionswhichhepressedasfastastheyappeared.‘Inquisitor,’ a Grey Knights sergeant called as his brotherhood halted in aserratedcircleabout therenegades, thebladesofhalberdsand barrelsofstormbolterspointedinwards.‘Do your duty, sergeant,’ Inquisitor Van Leeuwen said, his voice almoststrangledwiththesatisfactionhefeltatseeingtheAlphaLegionnairesandWordBearerscaptured.‘Securetheprisoners.’‘Onyourknees, foulservantsofdarkness,’aGreyKnightssergeant roaredattheRedacted,hisboomingvoicefullofhonourandhatred.Malikwasstruggling.TheformerNightLorddidnotlikebeingcorneredandhewould not be captured.Hemoved to rush forward at the line of cracklingbladesandgapingbarrelsbutHasdrubal stoppedhim, layingagauntleton thelegionnaire’spauldron.‘Onlyatthestrikemaster’sword,’thesergeantgrowled.‘Thewordofa liar…’GouraShengksaid,hisfilthydaemon’sclawsgrowinglongerandblood-redbrawnflexing,‘…athiefandacoward.’AstheDarkApostle’sdaemonSpaceMarinesalsogrewinferocityandstature,spittingandhissingattheglitteringcordonofGreyKnights,OccamcontinuedtoworktheTesseraqt.Theblackboxtransformedrapidlyinhishands.Thestrikecommander could hardly thumb the smooth depressions in the black, alienmaterialquicklyenough.Finally, somethingcleared. Itwasn’taclickor thunkliketheopeningofalock.Itwasmorelikeachangeofpressure,butinsteadof

beingfeltinearsandsinuses,theeffectreverberatedhorriblythroughthemind.TheTesseraqtpresentednomoredepressionstoactivate.Instead,thecubebeganto turn itself inside out and glow with a green darkness indicating that thecontainmentfieldmaintainedbytheancientxenostechnologywasfailing.‘I have twomorewords for you,’Occam theUntrue said, comingupbehindoneoftheDarkApostle’spossessedsentinels.‘Getready…’Throwing theTesseraqt between theWordBearer’s legs,Occam allowed thecubetoskimacrossthemarbleofthecathedralfloor.‘Grenade!’ the silver-clad sergeant called out as the highly disciplined GreyKnightssawtheobjectslidetowardsthemandbackedaway.ASpaceMarineingreyplateopenedfirewithhisstormbolter.Boltsrocketedacrossthetransept,trailingetherealpowerfromthepsyker’sweapon.Occamgrabbed thewarpedpackof theWordBearers sentineland forced thecreatureforward.ThedaemonSpaceMarineroareditsagonyasthepsychicallychargedboltsblastedintoitscursedplateandinfernalbrawn.HoldingtheWordBeareruplikeashield,thestrikemasterwaspushedbackbytheGreyKnights’stutteringboltfireasitrippedintothething.Ablindinggreenlightfilledthecathedralchamber.EvenintheshadowofhisWord Bearers shield, Occam’s optics briefly blanked out as his auto-sensescycledthroughappropriatefilters.Foramomentthegreenlightwaseverything.Muted thunder rolled through the transept, while unearthly energies crackledthrough themarbleof the flagstones.Occamcouldhear shouting,moreurgentthanbefore.Callstingedwithahintofsuperhumanpanic.Thestrikemasterwassuddenlyawareofthepresenceofsomethinghuge.GreyKnightswerebackingthroughthegreenbrilliance,theirgauntletsheldupbeforetheopticsof their helms.The floor trembled.Thewalls shook.Dust cascadeddownfromthevaultedroof.Ashisplateregisteredabankofheat–intenseandunnatural–rollingoutfromthesiteoftheopeningTesseraqt,OccamheldupthedaemonfleshofhisWordBearersmeatshield.Furious,infernalflamereachedforthecathedralroof.Itwrithedaboutthemonstrousformofthedaemoniccreaturethatthestrikemasterhadunleashed.‘Whathaveyoudone?’GouraShengkshouted.HehelduphisclawbeforethewaveofheatdrivingInquisitorVanLeeuwenandhisGreyKnightsback.‘TheSlaughterlordwilldestroyusall!Hewillnotstopuntilthecorpseofeverysoulonthisdoomedworldliesathisfeet.’‘Then I suggest we leave,’ Occam the Untrue said, shoving the dyingWordBeareratthegreentornadooffuryandflamethatwasKar’Nash’gahar,Lordof

GloriousSlaughterandSlayerofWorlds.As the alien containment field collapsed and the daemon monstrositymanifested fully, a tsunami of warped, crackling power crashed through theSpaceMarines in the cathedral, andOccam felt his power armour briefly dieabouthim.Everythingwentblack.Allhewasawareofwas themuted roarofthedaemonentity.Thenhefeltadistantthunderthroughthesolesofhisbootsandthestonefloor.Theradiatingenergiesof themonster’smanifestationwereoverloadingthepowerconduits,andnotjustinthecathedral;achainreactionofexplosionswasspreadingoutwardsintothemachineriesthatpoweredthewholefloatingplate.Hisopticscrackledbacktolifeafterhissuithadbeenmomentarilyimmobilisedby the shockwave of dark energy. Friend and foe alike had suffered the briefoverload and one by one the SpaceMarines surrounding the greater daemonrediscoveredmobilityintheirarmouredsuits,likestatuescomingtolife.The transept echoed with the gunfire of Grey Knights and the horrificbellowingofthegreaterdaemon.Atoweringcolossusofextravaganthorn,clawsand bulgingmuscle, its ugly face jangledwith bronze rings through its snout,lips and ears. A pair of ragged wings unfolded like doom above the SpaceMarines below. Themonster’s features were uglier still for the insane rage itsuffered upon being released from its prison and the spiritual torment ofmanifestinguponholyground.Psychicallychargedbolt-roundsrippedintothedaemon’smetal-threadedfleshfromthelineofGreyKnights.Thebeastroared,itsangershakingthecathedral’sfoundations as themightywalkers unleashed their arm-mounted cannons at it.The thing attempted to shield itself using itswings but the fury of the heavyweaponryturnedtheleatheryappendagesintoamangledmess.The colossal daemon doubled over and began to heave. A torrent of bloodgushed from the monster’s jaws and hit the cathedral floor. In amongst thedeluge Occam could see something akin to the length of a huge, barbedtapeworm. Snatching up its grotesque length, the daemon twirled it about itshuge form.Blood rained from the length of the thing and all too late,Occamrealisedthat themonsterwaswieldingsomedevastatingweapon–adaemonicflail of black barbs and cruel hooks.Whipping outwith the flail, the daemonturnedanadvancinglineofGreyKnightsintoascythedmessofmangledfleshandarmour.Anothergreatswirlingslashofthedaemonicweapontorethroughthestonearchitectureof thecathedraland rippedapart theworkingsofoneoftheGreyKnightswalkers.

‘Sergeant,’ the strikemaster called through the havoc, ‘find us away out ofthis.’The cordon of Grey Knights closed about the Slaughterlord, the barb-likehalberdsofthesilver-platedTerminatorscracklingastheyadvanced.Hasdrubalranattheenemy;MalikandQuodafollowed.AGreyKnightsTerminatorswunghis force halberd around in a trailing arc of psychic might and the sergeantskidded to a stopacross themarble flagsbefore changingdirection.Using theweightofhisplate,HasdrubalranattheTerminator,slamminghispauldronintohim.TheGreyKnightwasknockedbackandashewas,VilniusMalikdidthesamefromtheoppositedirection.AstheAlphaLegionnairesgrabbedanarmeach,CarcinusQuodaslammedintothe Terminator’s chest. The Terminator brothers turned their own weapons tomeet this new threat, and the sorcerer tore the force halberd out of the GreyKnight’sclutches.WiththeweapongraspedinhisgauntletsQuodajustmanagedtoturnasidethesmashingstrokeofaGreyKnightbeforeloppingtheheadoffanotherweaponwithaviciousbackstrike.Quodadroppedthehalberdwithacryofpainasitburnedhishands.Running the stumbling Terminator back into the ranks of the Grey Knights,MalikandhissergeantlettheSpaceMarinego.TheotherGreyKnightsdidn’tsee thedangeruntil itwas too late,concentratingall their fireupontheflame-swirlinggreaterdaemoninstead.Crashingbackmessilythroughtheirranks,theTerminatorwent down, taking several brothers downwith him and opening aholeintheclosingcordon.‘DarkApostle!’Occam called, even asGoura Shengk’s ownwarped sentineltriedtopullhimaway.ThedaemonWordBearerignoredthestrikemasterandshrugged his brother off. As a Grey Knight mounted a slow charge in hisTerminator suit, his force halberd thrust forward like a skewering lance, thedaemonSpaceMarinebatteditasidewithitshuge,malformedclaws.Defendinghismaster,thecreatureleaptupontheGreyKnightandproceededtosavagehimwithhornandclaw.‘Strikemaster!’OccamheardEphronHasdrubalcall.ThesergeanthadhisbootonafallenGreyKnight’shelm.Stampingdownwitha crack, the power armour seals gave and he broke the SpaceMarine’s neck.Withagrunt,thesergeantscoopedupthecannonhewascarrying.Snatching a combat blade from theGreyKnight’s belt sheath, he threw it toMalik.TheformerNightLordimmediatelywenttoworksavagelystabbingthedownedTerminatorintheneck,exploitingthesealsbetweenthewarrior’shelm

andsuit.Quodabacked towards him, desperately smashing aside halberds swungwithpower and hatred by hulkingTerminators. Every time the psychically chargedbladesclashed,theycrackledwiththeGreyKnights’otherworldlyenergies.Unleashing the fury of the cannon on the Terminators’ armoured backs,Hasdrubal brought one silver-platedwarrior down and distracted another longenoughforthesorcerertojabtheGreyKnightinthethroatwithacrunch.Occamstartedmoving towards theopeninghis legionnaireshad created.TheWordBearerssentinelprotectingtheDarkApostlehadbecomeaskeweredmessofdaemonfleshandforcehalberds.‘Shengk,’Occamcalled.‘Thisisyourlastchance.’TheDarkApostlehadfallentohiskneesbeforetheimmensedestructivepowerofKar’Nash’gahar. The greater daemon – furious, afflicted and aflame –wasrampaging through the cathedral. Writhing in an inferno of green flame, themonstrous creaturewas infuriated by both its sacrosanct surroundings and theGreyKnightspepperingitsmuscularformwithstormbolterfire.AsTerminatorsingreyplateclosedontheabomination,corrallingitwiththepresentedbladesoftheir halberds, the daemon stamped down on the annoyance. Splattering themintothecathedralfloorwithitshooves,theLordofGloriousSlaughterragedon,smashingoneoftheGreyKnightswalkersintothewallwithitshornedshoulder.Seeing the towering statueof theGod-Emperor standingastride thechamber,thedaemonicbeastroared.Asthehorrificsoundfilledthechamber,Occamfelthissoulshrivel.Kar’Nash’gahartorethemassivestatuedownwithitsflailandunrelentingfury.AsmallmountainofstoneshatteredacrosstheremainingranksoftheGreyKnights.AstheshadowofthefallingstatueburiedOccam,thestrikemastermadeadecision.InsteadofrunningforthewithdrawingmembersoftheRedacted, he made for Goura Shengk, who was stumbling towards the greenbrillianceoftheTesseraqt.Occam felt the flags quake beneath his boots as the statue smashed to theground. Stumbling and then skidding across the floor, the strikemaster foundGouraShengkonhis knees before the daemon’s glorious destruction.As theyknelt there in the green light, bolts flying wildly and a cloud bank of dustenvelopingthem,OccamtriedtoteartheWordBearerupontohisfeet.‘We’vegottogo,’thestrikemastersaid.Occamcaredlittleforthedaemonfilthbutwith the Iota-Æternus compromised, he needed theDarkApostle and theDissolutioPerpetuatoescapethesystem.‘Go?’ the daemon Space Marine seethed. ‘Where would we go, serpent?

Becauseof the sonsofAlpharius, the soulswepromised theDaemonCouncilare forfeit.Brothers of theWordwill hunt us down.Because of your failures,strikemaster,thereisnowheretogo.’Occamlookedupthroughthethinninghazeofdust.Hecouldhearscreamingandtheexcruciatingfractureof thecathedralcrackingabout them.ThebrokenbodiesofGreyKnightsflewthroughtheair.Throughthemurkandgreenlight,Occam could see the greater daemon – a monstrous whirlwind of flesh andflame–breakthebackofaGreyKnightswalkerbystampingoutwithaclovenhoof.Asboltroundsrippedupthroughtheabomination’sback,thecreaturetoreat statues and holy tapestries adorning the cathedral wall. Bombarding GreyKnightswithrubble thatsurvivingbrothersusedforcover, thedaemonturned.Stormbolterfirerippedintothemonster’smetal-threadedhide.Roaringinpainandfrustration,Kar’Nash’gaharthrewitselfattheSpaceMarines.ThecreaturestampedTerminators into thecathedralfloorandscoopeduparmouredvictimsinitsgreatclaws,crushingthemwithfuriousabandon.Itseemedsuddenlytonoticeafiguretakingcoverbehindthegrandepiscopalthrone.Occamsaw that itwasVanLeeuwen, the inquisitorunloadinghisboltpistolatthetoweringmonstrosity.Obliteratingthethronewithasavagekickofits hoof, the Slayer of Worlds snatched Van Leeuwen in one great claw andbrought the inquisitor upbefore its infernal ugliness.The inquisitor roaredhishatred at the daemon beast before sending the last of his bolt-rounds intoKar’Nash’gahar’s face, making the creature flinch. When the Slaughterlordroaredback,thefoulintensityofitsbreathmeltedtheweaponinVanLeeuwen’sgauntletbeforeturningtheinquisitorhimselfintoawitheringhusk.Tossingthebodyaside,thedaemononcemoreragedintothegunfireoftheremainingGreyKnights.As the daemon stormed across the cathedral,Goura Shengk fell to his kneesandheldhisarmsoutstretched.‘Mighty Kar’Nash’gahar…’ the Dark Apostle called, supplicating himselfbeforethegreaterdaemon.Occam shook his head.Unable to return toUnholyGhalmek,Goura Shengkwas looking for new daemon sponsors. Leaving the Word Bearer, the strikemaster ran into the blinding green light. He reached out and grabbed for theTesseraqt. He felt the object moving. Reassembling. Once again, finding itsform.AstheTesseraqtclosed, thebrilliantgreenlightof thecontainmentfielddisappeared and Occam found himself with the black cube once again in hishand.

Asthelightdied,theSlaughterlord’sgazewasdrawnfromitsbutcheryoftheGreyKnights.ThemonstrositysawOccamwithitsprisoninhishand.Itsfacecontorted with hatred and fury as it associated the strike master with itsincarceration.SlippingtheTesseraqtintohisbeltpouch,Occamran.Poundinghisarmouredfootsteps across the cathedral, he risked a glance behind him as the greaterdaemonstompedforthinabyssalanger.‘LordofGloriousSlaughterandSlayerofWorlds,’GouraShengkcalled,‘weofferourselves…’A wrinkle of disgust passed across Occam’s features at the Word Bearer’sentreaty.ThemonstrositystampeditshoofdownontheDarkApostle.TheWordBearerdisappeared,replacedbyacraterofshatteredflagstonesandfountaininggore.TheMaster ofMankind’s statue had fallen face first onto the ground and itscolossal form lay in Occam’s path. Skidding down onto his side, the strikemasterslidbeneaththesternvisageoftheGod-Emperor’sface,meremomentsbeforetheSlaughterlord’shoofcamecrashingdowntoshatterthestatue’sback.OccamranpastGreyKnightsTerminators,whoseopticswere fixedupon theSlaughterlord’s spellbinding form. They held their halberds out to corral themonstrosity in a serrated gauntlet of psychically charged blades. Meanwhile,brothersinpoweredplaterippedintothegreaterdaemon’sfoulbrawnwiththestaccatoblastofetherealboltfire.TheseGreyKnightsalsoseemedunconcernedatOccam’s escape and the fleeing of theRedacted.Kar’Nash’gahar had theirattentionnowandcouldnotbeallowedtoleavethisplacetowreakhavocacrosstheatmosphericplatesofSuspiriaProctor.Occam heard a gargling shriek across the vox-channel. A Grey KnightsTerminator had managed to thrust the blade of his halberd into Malik’s gut,bringing the former Night Lord down. The strike master could hear thesuppressedgaspofshockfollowedbyMalikcoughingandsplutteringbloodupwithinhishelm.The Redacted were suddenly there at their brother’s side. Occam ran at theTerminator, throwing the weight of his powered plate at the hulking GreyKnight’s pauldron. Knocking him off balance and stumbling to one side, thestrike master put the armoured warrior in Hasdrubal’s sights, allowing thesergeanttofinishtheirfoewithaheadshotfromhisboltgun.AkneelingMalikroaredashepulledtheskeweringhalberdbladefromhisside.‘Malik…’Occamsaid.

‘Icanmakeit,’theformerNightLordgrowled.Thestrikemasterriskedaglancebehindhim.‘Get him up,’ Occam ordered. Between them, Hasdrubal and the sorcererhelpedMaliktohisfeet.‘What’shappening to the floor?’Hasdrubal said.Occamhaddetected it also.Thegradientwaschanging.Hecouldfeeltheeverincreasingslantofthegroundbeneath his feet, had felt it since the storm of unnatural energy had beenunleashed.‘I think the daemon’s manifestation has knocked out the plate generatoria,’Occam told his sergeant. ‘A chain reaction or system failure. The anti-gravityenginesmust be failing. This plate is falling out of the sky.We’ve got to getaway.’Withanarmaroundeachofthem,Malik’sarmouredbootsbarelyskimmedthefloor. As the Alpha Legionnaires rushed him across the vaulted chambers,followed by their strikemaster,Kar’Nash’gahar smashed hisway through thecathedralandthecordonofGreyKnights.The greater daemon vented its monstrous fury upon the holiness of itssurroundings,tearingarchitectureandthestatuesofsaintsdownuponthebattle-brothersinsilverplatewhosoughttocontainit.Thecathedraldrovethecreatureinsane with the divinity of stone and sculpture. The Grey Knights demandedobliteration for the foolish assumption that they alone could contain theuncontainable.TheSlaughterlordnevertookitsfellgazefromthetrueobjectofitsabyssalire.TheonewhohadunleashedtheSlayerofWorldsoncemoreuponthe galaxy – a service that would not save him. The one who had kept theabominationprisonerinthexenoscube:OccamtheUntrue.‘Doyouhaveaplan?’SergeantHasdrubalcalledastheyreachedthecathedralgates.‘Itbarelyqualifies,’Occamsaid,‘butyes–Ihavesomething.’AsHasdrubal shouldered the towering doors open, creating the narrowest ofgaps, theRedacted forced theirway through.Occamfollowed,butoutside thecathedral – gatheredon the ceremonial entrance plaza –was a sea of cardinalworld soldiers: planetary defence forces, storm troopers, crusaders and fratermilitiahordes, all dressed indevoutblack robes andarmour.They surroundedtheCathedral-Primus,theirweaponryaimedattheopeningdoors.Attheirhead,in a Chimera mounting an armoured pulpit, was the lord cardinal’s aide-maximus: Deacon Borshach. The Ecclesiarchical troops had all heard thethunderoushorrorcomingfromwithinthecathedral.Theyhadfeltthequakeand

crumble of foundations, and stained glass had rained down on them from thegrandeurofshatteredwindows.FacedonlywithwhatwasleftoftheRedacted,Borshach–likehiscardinalworldsoldiers–seemeduncertain.Occamwasoutofoptions.Hepushedhislegionnairestooneside.Theyhadtoclear thedoor.Theactiondrewthefireofamilitia trooper inblack,hissinglestabbingbeamgoingwideofthemarkbutenoughtopromptablindingcascadeof others to sear across the plaza from the front lines of the cardinal’s troops.Lasbeamscutacross thepathof the legionnaires,burning into thestoneof thecathedral exterior. The strike master’s armour registered a cluster of impacts.Some were glancing beams while others seared into the plate. He heard hissergeantcalloutasabeamstruckhiminthesideoftheneck.In a monstrous boom of metal and stone, the cathedral doors explodedoutwards.WithaTitanickick thegreaterdaemonstruck thedoorswithahoofandsentoneflyingoutacrosstheplazainastormofmasonry.Soldiersdiedintheir hundreds as the colossal bronze door smeared their ranks into the plaza.Kar’Nash’gahar stood there, anightmaremade flesh,bellowinghisbottomlessrage at theEcclesiarchical soldiers, the capital plate and the cardinalworld atlarge.Astheshocksubsidedandheart-thumpingpanicsetin,theblindinghailoflasbeamslefttheRedactedandmovedacrosstothegreaterdaemon.‘Sergeant,’Occamsaidasthestonewallofthecathedralsmokedaboutthem.‘Mylord?’‘Climb.’‘Climb?’‘Foryourlives,’Occamsaidashebackedfromthem.‘Butmylord…’‘Fortheinquisitor’slighter,’thestrikemastersaid.‘Thelordcardinal’sbarge.Somekindofcraftuponthespirelandingplatforms.Anythingthatgetsusawayfromthatmonstrosity.Nowclimb.’As Quoda and the sergeant helped the wounded Malik up into the busyarchitectureofthecathedralwall,Occamfollowed.

Occam reached for ledges and hauled himself up through nests of stonegargoyles.Belowontheplaza,thegreaterdaemonwasslashingattheranksofcardinal world defenderswith its flail, turning them into rivers of blood. Theheaving, tilting plate made it impossible for the soldiers to retain formation.Theyflewupintotheairandtrackedvehicleslefttheground.Itwasasthoughgravitywasfailing,whenreallytheeffectwasbeingcreatedbythefreefallofthe

colossalplate.ForOccamandtheRedacted,atleast,itspeduptheirclimbandmadesurmountingthearchitectureofthecathedralexterioreasier.Inthedistance,theplategeneratoriadetonated.Withthedroppingcapitalplatenow in the shadow of its higher neighbours, the rippling chain reaction ofexplosions lit up the dark undershell of the surrounding structures. The strikemastercouldseethatthemainreactorhadbecomeablindingflashofexplosivemayhem. Silhouetted in the crackling destruction was the SlaughterlordKar’Nash’gahar. It too had begun to climb up the walls of the cathedral. Itsabyssalragewouldnotallowitsgaolertoescape.Occam pushed on.He could see SergeantHasdrubal and the sorcererQuodaabove, helpingMalik up through the gargoyled architecture of the Cathedral-Primus and its main tower. Occam leapt for the ledges and sculptures. Hisengineered might and the servos of his armour carried him so far but theshudderingdropoftheplatedidtherest,carryingthestrikemasterfartherupthestructure thanhecouldhavemanagedunaided.Latchingontocrumbling stonesculptures and cloud-stained architecture he scrambled up the side of thecathedral: up, inpursuit of theRedacted;up, towards the cathedral tower topsthatstilldescendedparallelwiththeraggededgeofthecity’ssurroundingplates.Occamclimbedforhislife.Alifethatseemedworthsolittleinthatmoment.Hehad lost all.Hehadgivenuphis ship to a daemonic entity.TheRedactedwereintattersandthestrikemaster’salliancewiththeWordBearersofunholyGhalmekreplacedbyaforceofunnaturalfury.OccamheardKar’Nash’gahar’sbellowsofinfernalangerandhatredriseabovethescreamsofthousands.Hefeltthe quake of the monstrous daemon as its bounding step took it up onto thecathedral side and its claws punched like grapnels into the thick stone of theancientbuilding.Itflappeditsruinedwingsinfrustrationandbelloweditsrage.Thestrikemaster’sclimbingbecameincreasinglywild.Hauling,scrabbling,heleapedfrompurchasetopurchase.HequicklygainedonHasdrubalandQuoda,thepairnegotiatingthearchitecturewiththebrokenMalik.Theyhadmadegoodtime, however, having reached the tower’s mighty steeple. Kar’Nash’gaharthunderedupbehind.Ithadalmostreachedhim.‘Onwards!’Occamroaredathis remaining legionnaires.CarcinusQuodawasheaving himself up a maintenance ladder that ran up the steeple’s side, withMalik hanging off the back of his pack. Hasdrubal was holding back for hisstrikemasterbutOccamcalledforthesergeanttokeepgoing.Beyondtheragingdaemon that clawed and climbed, rumbling like a great furnace below him,Occamcouldhearfreshscreams.Thesewerenotshrieksofhorroratthesightof

thedaemonentitybutcallsof fearat theplate’s suddendescent.Occamknewpain when he heard it. The lowest parts of the city plate were now sinkingthrough the roiling clouds of acidic splendour that made up the planet’satmosphere. Lost in the colourful strata of death, the cardinalworlders of thecapitalplatewere screamingandgarglingas their fleshmeltedawayand theirlungs were turned to mush. Stone hissed as the acid did its worst and beganeatingthroughthefoundationsoftheCathedral-Primusitself.‘Go!’Occamcalledtohissergeant.HehaddrawnlevelwithHasdrubal.TheycouldnolongerseethesorcererandMalik.TheSlaughterlord reachedup for the renegadeSpaceMarines, clawing awaysectionsofstone.Uncoilingthegreatlengthofitsflailfromitsspikedbelt,thegreaterdaemonslashedattheAlphaLegionnaires.ForhorriblemomentsallOccamcouldhearwastheshreddingofstoneandthethunderofrageastheflail torethroughthearchitectureaboutthem.Rockdustblanketed the scene of devastation until the winds whipped the cloud away.Through the destruction, he could see Hasdrubal hanging onto the shatteredcathedralwall.Theyhadreachedthesmashededgeofthespirelandingplatformsomedistanceapart.Occamhauledhimselfupontotheplatform.‘Sergeant,’Occamcalled.‘Hangon.That’sanorder!’Hasdrubalhungonbyhisceramitefingertips.Hetriedtohaulhimselfup,thestonecrumblingabouthim.Suddenly Ephron Hasdrubal was gone. A mighty daemonic claw was in hisplace,diggingdeepintothestone.Encapsulatedintheprisonofhellishflesh,thecrushedsergeantcoulddolittleandOccamcoulddolittletosavehim.AnotherclawgrippedontothecreakingedgeoftheplatformandKar’Nash’gaharheavedits daemonbulkup.Thebeast had leapt for its life and justmanaged toget apurchase on the edge of the platform. The strike master backed away as theabominationbrought thehorrorof itshornsandabyssal featuresup levelwithhim. Its fangswereblackwith thefiresof its ire. Itsnostrilsstreamedburningsteamwiththeexertionofitsclimb.Thegreaterdaemon’seyesburnedbrightfortheyearsithadspentincarceratedinthealienTesseraqt.Occamstaredback.Hewasdonerunning.Thestrikemasterstampeddownontheshatteredstoneof theplatform.Itdidnot takemuch.Asinglepowered stompsent cracks spreading throughalreadyloosenedstone.Amomentlater,thedaemonwasgone.Peeringdownpastthebrokenstoneedge,Occamwatchedthesilhouetteofthedaemon thrash away from the plate. Tumbling down,with sections of broken

stone and the broken sergeant, Kar’Nash’gahar fell down through theatmosphericmaelstrom,flappingtheuselessexpanseofitsshreddedwings.Thedaemon raged and bellowed. The capital plate with all its population wasvanishingintothebottomlessstormofacidichell.Occamwatchedashis loyalsergeant and themonstrous greater daemon followed it, until the raging stormhadclaimedthemboth.Gettingupandstumblingawayfromthesmashededgeoftheplatform,Occamheardtheroarofengines.AnInquisitoriallighterdriftedinclose.HecouldseeQuoda in the cockpit. The craft drifted around, its ramp lowered. The strikemaster leaped up onto the ramp just as the upper reaches of the cathedral fellaway.Occamgazeddownforafewmoremomentsasthecathedralplummetedto its doom,before entering the lighter and closing the ramp.He foundMalikdoubledoveronthecompartmentfloor.‘SergeantHasdrubal?’theformerNightLordsaidthroughpain-grittedteeth.‘No,’Occamsaid,shakinghishelmslowly.‘Strike master,’ Carcinus Quoda said across the compartment vox, bringingOccamfromdarkthoughtsofshockandloss.Thestrikemasterhitthevoxstud.‘Let’sgo,’Occamsaidfinally.‘Where?’thesorcererrepliedacrossthecracklingchannel.‘TheDarkApostlewasn’twrong.Whereistheretogo?’‘We continue as planned,’ Occam the Untrue told him. ‘A great deal hashappenedbutnothinghaschanged.’‘Howdowegetoffthiswretchedplanet?’Quodaasked.‘Itwill take all of your talents, sorcerer,’ the strikemaster said, ‘but like allthingstheAlphaLegionputtheirmindto,itcanbedone.’

χSNAKESALIVE

The Dissolutio Perpetua held station over the tiny shrine world of Procul-Sanctus.OccamtheUntruestoodmotionlessonthewarpedbridgeoftheWordBearers daemon ship, staring out of the fanged maw of the forward lancetscreen. It had been days since the Redacted had stolen a pilgrim lighter andescapedthehavocofSuspiriaProctor.He looked down at the backwater shrine world and could only imagine thehorrorunfoldingbelow.‘Dark Apostle,’ Iaxor Phel said, addressing Occam. He leaned againstGorghastragar, his chin resting upon the skull-pommel of the daemon sword.‘Youshouldreallybedownthere,leadingthedaemonbrotherhoodoftheVargaRaxintheslaughter.Youshouldindulgeyourself–especiallyafterthebetrayalofthosefaithlessserpents.’TheentitytrappedwithinthejaggedbladeofGorghastragarglowedwithinthemetal in both agreement and daemon hunger.Occamgave his FirstAcolyte awitheringgaze.ForseveralweeksnowwhatremainedoftheRedactedhadbeenincommandoftheWordBearersdaemonship.PretendingtobeGouraShengkand his two Word Bearers honour guard, the three Alpha Legionnaires hadmanaged to escape Suspiria Proctor and rendezvous with the DissolutioPerpetua under the premise that Occam the Untrue had betrayed them to theAngelbane. Using his potent psychic powers of manipulation, an exhaustedCarcinusQuodahadmanagedtokeepupthedeception.It had been tough going on all of them.Quoda had never had tomaintain amanipulationforsolongatsuchclosequartersandthesorcererlookedhaggardanddrained.VilniusMalikwasrecoveringfromhisgrievouswoundatthehandsoftheGreyKnights.OccamhadtodohisparttopresentarealisticportrayaloftheDarkApostletohisownmen.

Partof thishadbeenachievedbyoccupying theWordBearersof theBarbedOath with dark service. With considerable Ecclesiarchy forces alerted to thepresenceofrenegadesatSuspiriaProctorandOccam unabletotakethedaemonship back toGhalmek, the strikemaster had unleashedGouraShengk’sVargaRaxuponseveralbackwatershrineworldsintheoutlyingTemporasub-sector.FirstAcolytePhelhadbeenaconstantirritation,pressinghismastertoreturntoGhalmekor avenge theWordBearers byhuntingdown theEmperor’s priests,operativesof the Inquisitionor traitorsof theAlphaLegion in equalmeasure.Occamknewambitionwhenhesawit.Blindambition,atthat.Phel,ignorantofthe fate of Goura Shengk’s former acolyte, thought that he could tasteopportunity in theDarkApostle’s failureatSuspiriaProctorandached to leadthe daemonSpaceMarines of theVargaRax.While theBarbedOath boastedtraitors whose flesh was still their own, Shengk’s Varga Rax were daemon-afflicted to aman. For Occam, thismeant deploying all of theAlpha Legionwarband’s skills and resources. The strike master had not just to maintain adeception thatwould convince rank and fileWordBearers but also thewarp-siredentitiesthatpossessedthem.OccamfoundHostCaptainSorVhorpalleasiertoworkwith,onaccountofthemonstrousofficerhavinglittleornopersonality.ThecaptainsimplylivedtoleadtheVargaRaxinslaughterandthisOccamhadindulgedonSecratiaIV,StHerodandnowProcul-Sanctus.TheshrineworlderswerenotindiscriminatevictimsofOccam’s disappointment or Captain Vhorpall’s rage. The strike master hadspared Suspiria Proctor the wrath of Kar’Nash’gahar, Slayer of Worlds. TheEcclesiarchystillhadtopayforcostingOccamdearly,intheircollusionwiththeInquisitionandtheAngelbane–howeverunwitting.‘Clear the bridge,’ Occam growled, dismissing First Acolyte Phel with animpassivesweepofhisgauntlet.ThestrikemastercouldfeelPhel’seyesburningintohisback.‘Wearetobealonewithourthoughts.Leavetwoguards.’PhelleftthebridgewiththeotherdaemonofficersoftheVargaRaxandasmallarmy of cloaked cult minions manning the runebanks. Even the Dissolutio’ssorcerer-astropath and possessed Navigator vacated the fang-lined commanddeck. Beyond Quoda and Vilnius Malik, only withered corpse-servitorsremained, their mummified remains interfaced with their cradles and coresystemconsoles.‘Youthinkthexenoswillcome?’Quodaasked.‘He’llcome,’Occamsaid,pullingtheblackcubeoftheTesseraqtfromhisbelt.‘Wehavewhathewants.WhattheLordDominatusdesires.’

‘Andhedemandsitnow,fleshling,’cametheagelessmetallicvoiceofOmizharVohk.Occam allowed himself a snarl of satisfaction as the skeletal metal monsterstalkedoutfromshadowsin thecornerof thecommanddeck.Vohkseemedtousethedepthsofsuchdarknesstomovefromoneplaceandmomenttothenext.‘Youtookyourtime,xenos,’MalikspatasthehunchedVohkstompedoutontothe bridge, his footfalls heavy on the deck, thewickedmetal digits of a clawextended.‘TheTesseraqt,’thecreaturedemanded.OccamnoddedandbothQuodaandMalikbroughttheirplasmagunsup.Theywere not the fine specimens of alien engineering they had left behind on theIota-ÆternusbutwarpedandunreliableweaponstakenfromtheWordBearersarmoury.Theyglowedandpulsedwithanunhealthyenergywhiletheirscorchedmuzzlesopenedwidelikejawsinthemorphedsemblancesofdog-likedaemons.Their presentation was still enough to stop the alien in his tracks. His opticglowedintenselyattheblackcubeinOccam’shand.‘Wedonothavetimeforgames,fleshling,’OmizharVohksaid.‘The Alpha Legion play the long game,’ Occam told him. ‘For us, there isalwaystime.’Hesteppedforwardangrilyandlandedabrutalkickonthealien.Stampingthesoleofhisarmouredbootintothespindlything’smidriff,OccambrokeVohk’sspineandsentthealienclatteringbackacrossasetofconsoles.Asthe strike master moved forward, Vohk got back to his feet, his metal spinerepairingitselfbeforeOccam’sveryeyes.Theactwasimpressiveandthestrikemaster nodded his approval. The creature’s optic blazed greenwith cold alienfury.MalikandthesorcererclosedinwiththeirhummingplasmagunswhileOccamstormedon.Jumpingdownfromtheothersideoftheconsolebankheseizedtheskeletalmenaceandheavedtheweightofhismetalformoffthedeck,smashinghimbackintotherunebanks liningthebridgewall.OccambroughttheTesseraqtbackinhisotherfist.‘You want your precious artefact, do you, xenos? I don’t think I’ll ever beconvincedthatyoudidn’thavesomethingtodowiththeAngelbanereappearingatSuspiriaProctor.’‘Ididnot,’OmizharVohktoldhim.‘Youserveyourmasterwell,xenos,’Occamsaid,‘andifheiswhoIthinkheisthentellingmeismorethanyourmiserableexistencewouldbeworth.’‘YouthinkthattheLordDominatusis–’Vohkbegan.

‘Iknowheis,’thestrikemastersaid.‘Heisnot.’‘SpokenlikeatrueservantofthetrueLegion,’Occamsaid.‘Iwouldexpectnolessofyou.Ofhim.’The gaping jaw-barrels ofMalik’s and the sorcerer’s plasma gunsmoved inclosetothealien’sgauntmetalfaceasOccamheldhimagainstthewall.‘What do you want?’ Omizhar Vohk said at the prospect of his skull beingmeltedfromhisshoulders.‘Iwantyoutotakemetoourleader,’Occamsaid,‘whereuponIshallturnoverhisprizepersonally.’‘Impossible,’Vohktoldhim.HeflashedthegreenofhisopticaboutthebridgeoftheDissolutioPerpetuaandspecificallyatthesorcererQuoda.‘JustasIcouldnotventureintotheriftspaceoftheMaelstrom,thisisaplaceyoucannotgo.’‘We’llriskit,’OccamtheUntruedetermined.HedroppedtheTesseraqtonthedeck and hovered an armoured boot over it. ‘And so will you. We have allsacrificedsomuchforthiscubeandtheLordDominatus’wishesthatwemightaswellsacrificealittlemore.’‘Don’t,’OmizharVohksaidinametallichiss.‘Makeme,xenos.’‘Whyisthissoimportanttoyou?’Vohkasked.‘Becausethisisatesttobepassed,’Occamtoldhim.‘Because,likeallinmyLegion,Ihavequestionsthatdemandanswers.BecauseiftheLordDominatusiswhoIbelievehimtobe, thenheis thelivinganswertoallsuchquestionsandlikeme,servestheGod-Emperorstill.Takeyourpick,xenos.’Withaclatter,OmizharVohkseemedtosag.‘Thenhoweverunadvisedthiscourseofaction,’thealiensaid,hismetallichissresigned,‘IshallhonourourarrangementandtakeyoutoyourLordDominatus.’‘Whereishe?’Occamdemanded.OmizharVohktoldhim.Releasingthealien,thestrikemasterpickeduptheTesseraqtandmovedovertoabridgeconsole.QuodaandMalikstillkepttheirplasmagunsonthexenos.Occampunchedinasequenceofstuds,openingavox-channel.‘Sendword toFirstAcolytePhel,’Occamcommanded. ‘He is to returnwithCaptainVhorpallandtheVargaRax.Wearedonewiththeshrineworld.Also,have the Navigator attend us on the bridge and set a course for the GalacticCore.’

ItwaslikenowhereOccamhadeverseen.Thestrikemasterhadoperatedinthevarious segmentums of the Imperium, across alien empires and even theriftspace ofwarp storms. TheGalactic Core had a strangeness all of its own.Whereas the empires of galactic species had their own characters and theMaelstromwasperversityincarnate,theCorewasliketheendoftheuniverse.Itwaswherethevoidwaslostandstars–impossiblyancient–wenttodie.The Dissolutio Perpetua had entered the immaterium and had plunged onfurther towards the Core than the daemon ship’s twisted Navigator had evertravelled.Furtherthanthedetailsofhisbloodstainedmapsshowed,intoregionswithoutnamesandzonesunknown.Whenthedaemonshiphadgoneasfarasitpossiblycould,itdroppedoutofthewarpwithoutwarning.WhenOccam,stillmasquerading as an imperious Goura Shengk, demanded an explanation, theNavigatorhadnothingforhimbuttheinsistencethatthewarpwasfading,thatitwasnolongerwiththem–thattheyhadreachedtheshoresoftheSeaofSouls.Pushingon,withtheDissolutio’ssub-lightenginesroaringthroughtheship,thedaemon vessel entered a realm of light.Here the darkness of the void shrankaway and crowded clusters of ancient stars stained everythingwith a glowinglight. Everywhere, stars burned their last and fed upon one another.Dust anddebriscloakedtheCorewhilesystems,oldbeyondreckoningandunvisitedbyallbutthemostenduringofraces,werestellarcarouselsofprimevalcatastrophe.Planetswerelittlemorethanshatteredremnants,boastingbuttheashanddustoflongperishedcivilisations.Itwashere, in thisbarrenplaceofblindingdesolationwhere timehadrunitscourse, that Omizhar Vohk insisted the Lord Dominatus could be found. SoOccampushed on.He pushed theRedacted on.He pushed theWordBearers,enslavedtohisdeception,on,onandon.Heretheyfoundworldslongdead.Theyencounteredtheruinsofoncecivilisedworldsandthesamestructuresoverandoveragain.Rockymoons,radioactiveghostworlds and the cracked shells ofplanets that had suffered someancient,apocalyptic fate – all boasting the same strange alien architecture. Colossalpylons, likebristlingnests of needles reachingup from the surfaceof planets,seemed to afflict theworldsof theCore.TheDissolutioPerpetua found themeverywhereasthedaemonshipmovedfromsystemtosystem,workingitswaytowardsthesterilecentreofthegalaxy.Somewereimpossiblyold,whileothersappearedtobefairlyrecentconstructionsamidstthederelictionofdeadworlds.Quoda,betweenperiodsoffeverishmalaise,hadhypothesised that thepylonswere of ancient alien origin and said he had seen them on the worlds of the

CadianGateintheEyeofTerror.TheyappearedtohaveacalmingeffectonthewarpbuthereintheGalacticCoreandinsuchconcentration,theynullifiedthewarp entirely – making immaterial travel and astropathic communicationimpossible.WhenOccamquestionedVohkaboutthepylonsthealiensaidlittlebut that it was a project beyond human supremacy that had been started byancient races longagoandcontinuedeven to thisday.ThestrikemasternotedthatcorruptionwasbeingdrivenfromthedaemonWordBearersandthesorcererQuodacouldbarelycallonafractionofhispowers.AllbutMalik,OmizharVohkandthestrikemastersuffered.The warp was almost gone. It took all of Quoda’s effort to maintain hismanipulationsandeventheblurredsemblanceofthelegionnaires’WordBearersappearance. This didn’t seem to matter. The Word Bearers themselves werechanging. They suffered torments both physical and spiritual. All but cut offfromthepollutionofthewarp,thewarpedbrothersoftheVargaRaxweredrivenfromtheirdaemons.Theirbonesuntwisted,theirdaemonbrawnshrankandtheirminds achieved an agonising clarity. Undergoing such dreadful torture anddisorientation,Phel,CaptainVhorpall and thebrotherhoodof theBarbedOathsawinOccamtheUntruewhattheyexpectedtosee:theirDarkApostle–strong,unswervingandintentuponoblivion.The possessed cultists that manned the daemon ship went mad without thecomfortoftheirpollutingentities.Thiswasnothingcomparedtothesufferingsof the daemon ship itself. So far from the ritual nourishment of UnholyGhalmek, theMaelstrom’sboonoreven Imperial space–where thewarpwasbutathinveilaway–theDissolutioPerpetuaunderwentamonstrousexorcism.LiketheWordBearersanditscrew,itbecamelargelyseparatedfromthatwhichhad corrupted it. The infernal beast that squirmed within its superstructure,roared through the ship’s gunfire and warped the architecture to reflect itsmonstrouswill,was now but a ghost of itself.A thing thatwhimpered in thestaticofvoxmittersandhauntedthedarknessofthedungeondecks.Itretractedthefangsthatframedlancetscreens,bulkheadsandblastdoors.Itbledfoulichorthat flooded thekeel, frothed and roseperiodically up through the lowerdeckmeshlikeatidalmisery.‘Howmuchmoredoyouthinktheycantake?’Malikaskedhisstrikemasteronthebridge.TheylistenedtothemoaningofWordBearers, theinsanityoftheircultistcrewandthedreadsufferingofthedaemonshipaboutthem.‘Dowe care?’Occam said, staringout into theblinding light of stellar deathfloodinginthroughthelancetscreens.

‘Whatabouthim?’Malikpressed,indicatingthefeverishQuoda,whosatonthedeck,leaninghispauldronagainstthewall.‘He’sAlphaLegion,’Occam said, his voice like steel.OmizharVohkgave asneerofcontemptfromtheshadows.‘Youareflesh,’thealientoldthem,‘andyouareweak.’The strike master walked dangerously towards the xenos abomination as itskulkedintheshadows.‘Howlongdoyouthinkyou’ll last ifIshootyoufromourtorpedotubesintooneofthesestars?’Occamputtohim.Omizhar Vohk moved into the brilliance flooding the bridge and became asilhouetteagainstthelancetscreens.‘MybrothersgrowtiredandIamimpatient,xenos,’Occamtoldhim,backingthe creature up to the armoured plas. ‘Howmuch further?Where is the LordDominatus?’‘He’s beenwith us for awhile,’ the alien told him, tapping ametal knuckleagainsttheglass.Occampeeredoutintotheblindinglight.‘Filters,’ the strikemasterordered.Thewarped servitorsandcultist crewhadbecomeuselessinthewarplessintensityoftheCore.Malikpulledoneofthembackfromwhereitwaslyingwastedacrossaconsoleandmanuallyalteredthescreen filters.As the lightwasdialledback,Occamsaw thehazyoutlineof avessel somewaydistantbut runningparallel to their course.Occam lookedatOmizhar Vohk. The alien pointed to starboard. Walking across the bridge,Occam joined Malik in staring out of the screen on the other side of thecommand deck. She was a light cruiser with distinctive lines and piraticalaugmentations.‘Iknowthatship,’Maliktoldhim.‘I’vebeenaboardher.Reznorevendidsomeworkonher.She’stheSigmaSophistra,flagshipofTheChainUnbroken.That’sNaetrixKrayt’sship.I’dbetmylifeonit.’OccamturnedbacktowardsOmizharVohk.‘YourbrotherscomefromfarandwidetoservetheLordDominatus,’thealiensaidinhismetallichiss.‘Thesevesselshavebeengiveninstructionstoescortusin.’‘In?’Occamsaid.‘Where?’Thealiengestured forward.Through theglareof severalnearby stars, ragingbrilliantly in their death throes, Occam couldmake out the hazy outline of aplanet.‘Filters,’hesaidagainandMalikcycledfurtherfiltersacrossthelancetscreens.

There,beforethedaemonshipanditsAlphaLegionescorts,andalmostinvisibleinthecombinedglareofthreesuns,wasaplanet.Itroastedinradioactivegloryandappearedurchin-like, its crackedandbaked surfacecovered inneedle-likepylonsacrossitsentiresurface.‘Wherearewe?’Occamdemanded.‘RoyalBelphagar,’OmizharVohktoldhim.‘Oneoftheearliesthomeworldsofmy race.Once,myownhomeworld.Now it is but a shell of ancient glories,usedbyyourLordDominatusasabaseforhisoperations.Come,heawaitsbothyouandhisprize.Yourarmybrothersshalltakeusin.’Krayt’spirateshipsescortedtheDissolutioPerpetua towardsachasmiccrackin the planet’s surface about the equator.With ancient pylons rising up abovethem thedaemon shipplunged slowly into theplanet.UnderKrayt’s guns thedaemon ship glided silently down through the abyssal crack with the rockymantleoftheplanetpassingoneitherside.Quodagroanedastheypassedwithintheplanetandtheintensifiedinfluenceofthesurfacepylons.Hecouldnolongerexercisehispowersofmanipulationandthe three members of the Redacted now appeared to all in the glory of theirscaled plate and legionary colours. The deck servitors and cultist crew caredlittleforthechange;theyappearedbarelyawareofit.Occamexpectedtofindcavernousdarknesswithintheplanetbutwassurprisedtoseelightahead.RoyalBelphagarwasnoordinaryplanet.Incrediblyoldandadapted with the ancient and powerful technologies of some elder race, theworldwasfullofsurprises.Asthedaemonshipmovedslowlyinsidetheplanet,Occamstaredoutofthelancetscreensinsilentwonder.Itwasaworldofstrangereversals.Theplanetwashollow.Whileitsradiation-bakedshellhadbeenbarebutforthousandsofalienpylons,theinteriorofthehollowplanetboastedcities,preserved in silent perfection. The ancient civilisation that made the planetinterior their home were long gone, however, and the cityscape of alienmonuments,blackpyramidsandgrandarchitecturehadthefeelingofaplanetarytombburieddeepbelowtheground.Suspendedinthecentreofthehollowspaceragedtheplanet’smetalcore.Itsattherelikesomekindofsun,heldinplacebygravitationaltechnologiesadvancedandancient.Itswirledandrotated,glowinglikeanabandonedfurnacethatcastthexenoscityscapeinthegrimredlightofadyingfire.Castinsilhouetteagainstthe core and holding station far above the cityscape, Occam saw a flotilla ofvessels.Theywereallfastandstealthyspecimens,frigates,armedfreightersandlightcruisersfavouredbytheAlphaLegionfortheirdreadwork.Somenodoubt

belongedtoCaptainKrayt’sTheChainUnbroken,whileotherswerepledgedinservicetootherAlphaLegionwarbands,unitsandharrowmasters.Slowly,theAlphaLegionescortsbroughttheDissolutioPerpetua in linewiththeflat topofacolossalblackpyramid.Itseemedclearfromtheslowingcraftthatthedaemonshipwastoholdstationthere.‘Whatnow,xenos?’Occamsaid,butominously theskeletalalienhadgone–once more disappearing into the shadows and making use of his strangeteleportation technology. Occam cursed under his breath before turning toVilniusMalik.‘Phel?CaptainVhorpall?TheWordBearers?’‘Thecultistcrewareafflicted. I’vesecured theWordBearerson their templedecksasordered,’theformerNightLordtoldhim.‘Theyareseverelyweakenedby the effect of this alien technology and are indulging in their rancid rituals.Theybarelyknowwheretheyare,letalonewhereweare.’‘I’mnotsureevenweknowwhereweare,’Occamsaid,‘butletusdowhatwecameheretodo.Sorcerer,areyouwithus?’‘FortheEmperor…’CarcinusQuodamanaged,pushinghimselfupunsteadilyfromthedeck.‘Aye,’Maliksaid,handingoutWordBearersplasmaguns,wickedblades,meltabombsanddaemon-sculptedboltpistolstoQuodaandthestrikemaster.‘For the Emperor,’Occam echoed, nodding before leadingwhat remained oftheRedactedoffthecommanddeckanddowntothemainairlock.

ψTHEREPTILIANBRAIN

Steppingoff thedaemonshipandonto the flatplazadecorating the topof thepyramid, Occam became immediately aware of something strange in hisenvironment.Itwasn’ttheatmosphereortemperature,whichhisplateregisteredaswithinacceptableparameters.Itwasthegravity.The pyramid was impossibly tall and commanded an incredible view of theancientbutemptycityscapethatsprawledandcurvedacross theinteriorof theglobe.ItwascraftedofatypeofblackstonewithwhichOccamwasunfamiliarand was covered in green glowing lines in a pattern like some kind of aliencircuit.ItremindedthestrikemasteroftheTesseraqt.Movingwasstrangeatfirst.OccamledQuodaandMalikacrosstheplazaanddown thepyramidside,wherea setofblacksteps took them into thecityandtowards a grand ceremonial reception area.Ornamental pits flanked the steps,punctuatingtheRedacted’sprogressoneitherside.Itseemedthateverythinghadbeenreversedwithinthehollowplanet.Citiesclungtotheplanetinteriorratherthanitsoutershell,withtowersandloomingmonumentspointingvertiginouslyuptowardsthesuspendedcore.ThecoreestablishedagravitationalpullthatwasitselfareversalofwhatOccamexpected.Hisstepsdidnothavethereassuringthudofgravitydragginghimdown.Hefelt that ifheslippeddownoneof theornamentalpitshewouldnotfallfar–nofurtherthanhecouldordinarilyjumpinhispoweredplate.Ifheweretoleapfromthesteps,however,hefearedthathemightnotreturntosolidgroundbutinsteadfallupwardstowardstheglowingplanetarycore.Itwasdis orientatingintheextreme.Furtherdownthesideof thepyramid, theexertiontookits tollonQuodaandthesorcererstumbled,forcingMaliktomakeagrabforhim.Rightinghimself,Quoda pushed on, insisting that he was all right. As Malik and Occamexchangedglances, the legionnairenoticed somethingbeyondand indicated to

hisstrikemaster.Theancientcitywassilentandempty,buttherewasmovementahead, figures in plateworking theirwayup the steps tomeet them.Occam’sgauntlets creaked as he held his plasmagun at the ready.Ready for anything.Readyforeverything.As the Redactedmoved down tomeet the oncomers, he saw that theyweregarbedinthecoloursoftheAlphaLegion.ThisshouldhaveputOccamatease,yetitdidn’t.WithtraitorsliketheWordBearersbackontheship,Occamknewwhat hewas getting.He understood their deviance.All traitors and renegadeswerepredictableintheirownways.WiththeAlphaLegion,however,anythingwaspossible.The legionnaires didn’t show any obvious signs of outward corruption. AsOccamclosedwiththem,theystoodasideonthestepstocreateanarmedescort.Ifthedetailoftheirplatewasanythingtogobythegroupappearedtobemadeupof legionnaires fromdifferentwarbands.Anofficer inblackplate, the faintcoils of serpentine patterning and a helm boasting a bulbous targeting optic,cameforward.‘Youareof theLegionbutunknown tous,’ theofficersaid ina thickaccent.‘Whatisyourbusinesshere?’‘I am Occam, strike master of the Redacted,’ Occam returned. ‘I seek anaudiencewith theLordDominatus. I have travelled far tomeetwith him andhave fought unknowingly in his service. I would fight knowingly, but forquestionsthatremainunanswered.’‘AndyouwouldhavetheLordDominatusansweryourquestions?’theofficerasked.‘I would have the Lord Dominatus act in accordance with his wisdom andconscience,’Occamsaid.‘Youwillnotneedyourweapons,’theofficersaid,gesturingtotheplasmagunpulled in close toOccam’smidriff – itsmuzzlewavering unconsciously fromone legionnaire to another. The armed escort stepped forth to take the plasmaguns and slip bolt pistols from holsters but the Redacted suddenly stiffened,OccamandMalikbringing theirplasmagunsup levelwith theiroptics.Whilethestrikemastercoveredtheofficerandthefront,Maliksweptthemuzzleofhisweaponaroundtheback.AfatiguedQuodatriedtolifthisweaponfromwherehelooselyhelditathishipbutfailed.The escort seemed unconcerned. The red dots of targeters drifted across theRedacted’splatefromlegionnaireshiddeninsurroundingstructures.‘YouareAlphaLegion,yes?’Occamputtotheofficer.

‘As are you,’ the legionnaire said, burning into the strike master with hisbulboustargeter.‘Then, brother, you know that only a fool would give up his weapons rightnow,’Occamsaid,‘andnoneofusherearefools.’TheofficerseemedtoconsiderOccam’sargumentbeforenoddinghishelmatthe flanking escort and turning to lead the Redacted down the side of thepyramid.Atthebottomofthestructure,theescortpeeledoffandtheofficerledOccamand his legionnaires through the strange alien architecture and sculptures of areceptionplaza.Ancient tombs andmonuments rearedup, framing thehollowskywithjaggedblackstone.Everythingwassaturatedinaqueasyredandgreen.Greencircuits ran through theblackstone, the illumination fromwhichmixedhorriblywiththefurnace-glowofthesuspendedmoltencore.Thetopsofalientemples burned with a green phosphorescence while towering monoliths ofmidnightstoneprojectedstabilisingbeamsofgreenenergy.OccampickedouttheshapesofAlphaLegionnairesmanningsentrypostsandcriss-crossingthereceptionplazawiththeredbeamsoftargetsthatneverlefttheRedacted. It was difficult to estimate the numbers encamped here in thehollowedcentreof adeadworld.Gunships liftedoff fromdarkquadsand ranlegionnaires, operatives and materiel between the stationed flotilla of AlphaLegion vessels and the camp. A smaller pyramid forming the rear of thereceptionplazaopened,bleedinggreenlightintotheopenspace.Thetoweringblackthronethatformedthecentrepieceofthereceptionplazabecameframedinthe alien luminescence and a procession of silhouettes proceeded from theopening.Occam thought that he couldmake out robed cultists, Alpha Legionrenegadesinpoweredplateandthefreakishshapesofvariedxenosoperatives.Whentheyhadleft,anotherfigurefilledtheopening,atoweringblackshape.His outline was suggestive of ornate plate while the nodes of his pack werecraftedintoapairofserpents,facingandspittingatoneanotheracrossafangedhelm. He walked towards the Redacted, half obscured by the throne. ThelegionarycoloursofhisplateweresodeepthatOccamthoughthimlostinthemandaluxuriouscloakofglitteringscaleslitheredbehindhim.Asthetallfigurewalkedupandaroundthespiralstepsoftheelevatedthrone,theAlphaLegionofficerwentdownononeknee.Legionnairesatsentrypostsaboutthereceptionplazadidthesame.OccamturnedtoMalikandnodded.Thepair lowered their plasma guns and took a knee also. The withered Quodaneededlittlepersuadingtodothesame.

Asthefiguresatintheloomingthrone,lookingdownontheplaza,theofficerstood.‘My Lord Dominatus,’ he proclaimed. ‘Newcomers have arrived withoutclearanceor invitation.Occam, strikemasterof theRedacted,begsyou foranaudience.’‘Thatisnotstrictlytrue,mylord,’Occamcalled,gettingupoffhisknee.MalikandQuodafollowedsuit.‘Wehavebeeninvited.’‘By who?’ the Lord Dominatus called back, his commanding voice cuttingthroughthealienarchitectureoftheplazalikeablade.It carriedthewisdomofagewiththeenthusiasmofrelentlessyouth.‘Foritwasnotme.Youareoneoffewtohavemadeitherewithoutguidance.’‘I fought for the Angelbane,’ Occam said, ‘exterminating the Emperor’sservantsaboutthebordersoftheMaelstrominyourname.’‘A worthy cause,’ the Lord Dominatus said. ‘And indeed I did set the oneknownastheAngelbanetosuchservice.Iknownotthoseherecruitedinturn.WhereistheAngelbanenow?’‘Dead,my lord,’ Occam said, honestly. ‘Bymy hand but with yourmissionaccomplished.’‘Somemightcallthattreachery…’‘Andsomenecessary,’Occamreturned.‘Ifearheservedhimselfasmuchashedidyourinterests,mylord.’‘Andyoukilledhimforme?’theLordDominatussaid.‘OnlyamemberoftheAlpha Legion could claim to prove his loyalty by stabbing his brother in theback.’‘Hewasaserpentwhosemindhadbeenbakedintheheatofbattle,mylord,’Occam told him. ‘Striking out at all around him, friend and foe. I killed himbecauseIhadto.’‘Hewas a tool I held at arm’s length,’ the LordDominatus said, ‘where histalents were employed at their best. Now you have come here, un invited andexpectmetotakeyouintomytrust?’‘We fight for the same thing, Lord Dominatus,’ Occam said. ‘Somethingmadmen like Quetzel Carthach and many of our fallen brothers could barelycomprehend.’‘Andwhatisthat?’theLordDominatusasked,gettingupoutofhisthrone.‘We fight for the Emperor,’Occam said. ‘I for always and you still. For hisbloodrunsthroughyourveinsandyoumakehisstrengthyourown.’‘A bold claim for both of us,’ the Lord Dominatus said, dropping off the

elevatedthroneandlandingwithcat-likegraceinhisgloriousplate.Theblackstonecrackedabouttheimpactofhisboots.‘WhodoyouthinkIam?’‘I hope,’ the strike master confessed, ‘and I fear that you are father to anorphanedLegion.Thatyouarethesonofagodandhumanity’slastchanceforsurvival.’The Lord Dominatus approached slowly. He leant in to share a privateconfidencewithOccambuttheintensityofhispresencemadethestrikemastertakeastepback.‘Ihavelivedlong,’theLordDominatustoldhim,‘andIhaveheardmanysuchstories in my time. I wish I was the one you speak of. For the good of theEmperor,hisLegionandhispeople.ButIamnot.’‘Youarethesecondson,’Occaminsisted.‘Youhavetobe.YouaretheOmega,andwe theAlpha. The end and a new beginning.You can take us out of theshadowsand into the lightof theEmperor’smercy.Youhidehere in thedeadheartofanempirethatwantstolive.Wecanwatchitfalltothefiresofoblivionorwitherandrotonthevine,butifweact–together,asoneLegion–wecansaveit.ThroughusitcanbloomagainandusherinasecondGoldenAge.’‘Whatyoutalkofcannotbedone,’theLordDominatussaidsavagely.‘What is the alternative?’ Occam demanded. ‘Here you sit on your hollowthrone,gatheringidlesonsandlaunchingproxywarsthroughthosewhoactuallydaretobelieveinyou.MaketheLegionyourownoncemore.Dragitbackoutfrom thedarkness andgive thosewhohave lost theirwaydirection.Unite us.Leadus,lordprimarch.’‘He’sright,’avoiceproceededfromtheshadows.‘Whatyouspeakofcannotbedone.Atleast,notbytheLordDominatus…’

ωOUROBOROS

Occamrecognisedthevoice.Its metallic hiss belonged to Omizhar Vohk. Both Occam and the LordDominatusstaredabouttheplaza.‘Xenos?’Occamsaid,butthealienwasonewiththedarkness.‘Yourhopedoesnotresideinthislivinglie,’Vohksaid.‘Thisthingexistsonlyfordeath.Itisoblivionincarnate.Anendtoallthings,naturalandotherwise.’TheLordDominatuspeeredabouttheplazaandthenacrossatthelegionnairesmanningtheirposts.‘So,youcomeallthiswaytoplaygameswithme,’hetoldOccam,producingascowlof confusion from the strikemaster.TheLordDominatus gave a signaland the legionnaires fell in, searching theplazaandprobing the shadowswiththeirboltguns.‘Youwillregretthat.’‘Lordprimarch,no,Iwould–’‘This thing is not your galactic prince,’ Vohk went on, his metallic voicecoming from everywhere at once. ‘Nomere primarch stands before you.Thiscreature strides the void. It feasts upon the stars, leaving the sky in deepestdarkness.Itlivesdeceptionasyoubreatheair.Transcendent.Timeless.Vampiric.Theghostlyreflectionofblindingdoominashatteredmirror.’‘Enough of this,’ the Lord Dominatus roared, clearly infuriated at theaccusations.‘Haveyouroperativeshowyourself.’‘My operative?’ Occam marvelled. ‘But Omizhar Vohk works for you. Hepledgedustoyourserviceandbroughtustothisdreadplace.’‘Omizhar Vohk…’ the Lord Dominatus said, stomping about the plaza andlookingforthexenos.Ashedid,morelegionnairespouredoutoftheentranceofthesmallpyramidtojointhesearch.‘OmizharVohk,Iknowthatname.’‘AsIknowyours,stargod,’Vohksaid.‘Mephet’ran…theDeceiver.’

‘I thought I had rid thisworld of yourmiserable kind,’ the LordDominatussaid.‘Not quite,’ Omizhar Vohk said. ‘I have returned, Deceiver. To ensure thesurvival ofmy dynasty and avenge the lifeless alloy ofmy kindred. To undowhathasbeendoneandbringthisrealmofliescrashingdownintothedust.’‘Of course,’ the Lord Dominatus said. ‘Omizhar Vohk. The techno-sorcerer.Youthinkyoucanimprisonagod?Iamshard-born.IamoftheDeceiver.DidyouthinkthatIwouldnotgetfree?Thattherewouldn’tbeconsequences?Iamnoweapon to bewielded by the lesser races of the galaxy.How does it feel,techno-sorcerer, to have such a weapon turned back upon your people? Theymight have been obliterated bymy hand but it was you,OmizharVohk,whounleashedmeuponthegalaxy.Donotforgetthat.Neverforgetthat.’‘Iappealtoeverymortalthingonthisplanet,’OmizharVohksaid.‘Everythinglivingandbreathing.Offleshloyalorpolluted.Thisabominationwillendusall.ThehavocithassownthroughmanipulationoftherenegadeLegionsismerelythebeginning.ItmeanstoextendtheancienttechnologiesofmyraceoutbeyondtheGalacticCoreandcutyouofffromyourimmaterialrealm.TheSeaofSoulswilldryup,carryingnomoreyourvesselsormessagestodistantworlds.Yourgiftedwillnolongerbeabletodrawupontheirpowersortheafflictedachievecommunionwith entities unclean. Indeed, the storms suchbeings calledhomewillbeswallowedbysilence.DestroythisthingbeforetheDeceiverfeastsuponthesoulsofyourpeopleashehasdonemine.’OccamtheUntruestaredupattheLordDominatus.‘Killtheinterlopers!’theLordDominatussnarledtohisownlegionnaires.Occamfeltthehesitation.TheAlphaLegionrenegades,allpledgedinservicetotheLordDominatus,hadguardedhishollowplanetarystronghold.Theyhadoperated out of the Galactic Core. They had helped him carry out hismanipulationsandpuppetryfarbeyond.ListeningtothevoiceofOmizharVohk,momentary doubt had crept into their hearts and minds. No less than hislegionarybrothers,OccamhadtofacethefactthathetoohadbeencaughtupintheDeceiver’sliesandOmizharVohk’smachinevengeance.‘Down!’ Occam called, pushing a feverish Quoda behind a sculpture justmomentsbeforeablastingstreamofAlphaLegionboltfiretoreacrosstheplaza.Malik spun around and blazed several orbs of plasma back at the attackinglegionnaires,turningoneintobubblingslagandscorchingasecond.‘No,’OccamcalledtotheformerNightLord.‘Wemustunmaskthatthing.’Using the alien architecture for cover and with bolt-mangled black stone

shredding all about him, the strike master fired upon the Lord Dominatus.Occamblastedsphereafterragingsphereofsuperheatedplasmaatthefigureinornateplate.TheLordDominatusroaredinpainandfury.Occampumpedatthetrigger, sendingcontinualplasmashots at theLordDominatus, soon joinedbyMalik and Quoda. All the while architecture shattered about them as boltfirecriss-crossedtheplazafromAlphaLegionsentries.TheLordDominatusbellowed,holdingouthisgauntletstodeflecttheplasma.Spheresofcracklingenergyblazedintohisplateleftandright,producinghowlsofmonstrousanguishfromthe target.Ashishandsmeltedawayandhiscloakcaughtfire,theLordDominatusturnedintoaraginginferno.Occam’shydrogenflask randry andhedropped theplasmagun, instead snatching amelta bombfromhisbelt.Crankingthegrenade,heletitfly,anditdetonatedasitstrucktheLord Dominatus. Instead of vaporising, however, he blazed into brilliance,transformingintoatornadoofwhiteflame.TheshockwaveknockedOccambackandputaswiftendtotheboltfireaimedhis way. The column reached upwards, twining and turning in fury beforecracklingandragingincontactwiththeagitatedsurfaceoftheplanetarycore.Occam backed from the manifesting star god. Within the tornado of rawelementalpower,hecould seea towering, spindlynightmareofglorioushorn,claw and perfect limb. Like a thundering angel of destruction it whirledgracefullywithinthestorm,itsfaceamaskofalienferocity.Theforceofthestargod’sstormbegantotearuptheblackstoneofthefloorabout it. Ancient structures were demolished and sky-scraping monumentsshattered to join a secondary storm of black rubble and chunks of debris thatorbitedtheDeceiver.MalikgrabbedOccamandpulledhimbackoutofthepathofasmashedstatuethat had been ripped up next to him.Quodawas thrown aside by a streamofrubble thatcrumpledhisplatebut thesorcerermanaged togetback tohis feetandstumblethroughthestormbacktowardshisstrikemaster.‘We’vegottogo!’Malikcalledthroughthecyclone.‘No,’Occamroared.‘Thisthinghastobedestroyed.’Movingbackacrosstheplazathroughthehighwindsandrattleofdebrisacrosstheirplate,theRedactedretreated.Occamadjustedhisvoxtoanopenchannel.‘All legionnaires, all legionnaires,’Occamcalled across the channel. ‘This isStrikeMasterOccamoftheRedacted.Wehavebeendeceived.Thisalienentityhasfooledusall,brothers.IthasusedusandmadeamockeryofourLegion’shonourable name. But theAlpha Legion adapts. The hydra strikeswithmany

heads.Letus turn themonstrous furyofourcollectiveupon thisheathengod.Hit it with everything you’ve got. For Alpharius! For the Emperor! For theLegion!’AsOccamstumbledback towards thestepsof thecolossalblackpyramid,hepassed the Alpha Legion officer and several renegades taking cover behind afallen monument. With the bulbous targeter of his helm trained upon thewhirlingstorm,theofficerandhislegionnairesemptiedtheirboltgunsatthestargod. Legionnaires in surrounding towers pumped Stalker rounds into themaelstrombeforejumpingdownfromtheirpositionsas thestormtorethroughtheir structures. Bright flashes bloomed about the star god as heavy weaponslegionnaires fired their missile launchers into the swirling brilliance, but thestormoftheDeceiverswalloweditall.‘UnleashtheWordBearers,’Occamcalled,slappingMalikonthepauldron.‘They’llwanttokillusall,’theformerNightLordsaid.‘We’regoingtoneedtheirrage,’Occamtoldhim,pushingMalikupthestepstowardstheDissolutioPerpetua,whichrocked instationabove thepyramid intheswellofthestorm.‘Weneedeveryone.’Moreblossomsofflameeruptedabout thestargod’sswirlinghavocasheavyweaponslegionnaireslaunchedmissileaftermissileintothealienentity.Occamlaunched another melta bomb at the storm, only to have the vaporising flashsimplyassimilatedintoitsbrillianceandfury.SurroundingtheDeceiver,AlphaLegion renegades emerged from the cover of ancient tombs and techno-mausoleatounleashtheirweaponryuponthestargod.Thestrikemastercouldsee the flashofbarrelsas legionnaires,unified in theirabhorrenceof thealiencreatureandtheirdesireforvengeance,pumpedbolt-roundafterbolt-roundintothefuriousthing.Thestargod’scolumnofwhite firebegan toswirlabout like loosening rope.The destruction ploughed through the ancient structures of Royal Belphagar,tearing through temples, tombs andmonuments.Above, the energymaelstromcrackledacross thesurfaceof themoltencore,drawingsomeof theorb’sownfury down into itself. Swirling around, the column cut through the flotilla ofAlphaLegionvesselsstationedthere.Severalfrigateswereshearedintwo,whilealightcruiserwasplungedstraightintothefierycore.Other vessels were flung away, tumbling strangely through the gravitationalreversals to crash and detonate spectacularly across the cityscape. Onedemolishedoneofthecolossaltemplenodesthatprojectedastabilisingbeamofgreenenergyupintotheplanetarycore.Asthethickbeamstutteredanddied,the

corebegantotremble.Gravitational reversals began to tear through the cityscape andOccam couldfeel theblackpyramidshakingbeneathhisboots.Itwasas if thewholeplanetwere shaking itself apart. Beyond the apocalyptic boom of ancient buildingscollapsing,Occamcoulddetectthedistantthunderofasimilardestructionontheplanetsurface.Thequakeshadsetinmotionachainreactionoftopplingpylons,thethinneedlescrackingandfallingover–onlytostrikeseveralmorestructuresinthecluster.OccamlookedupthepyramidattheDissolutioPerpetuaandtheAlphaLegionlightcruiserflankingit.‘Sigma Sophistra,’ he voxed across the open channel, ‘this is Strike MasterOccam on the ground. Concentrate your fire on the target – point blank.Legionnaires expendable, I repeat. Dump everything you have on thatmonstrosity.’OccampulledthesorcererQuodabackupthestepsofthepyramid.‘Alllegionnairesreceiving,’thestrikemastercalledacrossthevox.‘Pullback.Fireincoming.’Thebroadsidecamefasterthananyofthemwereexpecting.NaetrixKraythadorderedhisstarboardguncrewsleveltheircannonfireattheswirlingbrilliancecarvingapathofdevastationthroughthecity.Thesoundwasear-splitting,evenwithinOccam’s helm.When the cannonfire hit the city, it felt as if theworldwere ending. Massive explosions ripped through the buildings, blasting dust,darknessanddebrisoutwardsinawavethattookthestrikemasteroffhisfeet,furtherupthestepsofthepyramid.Asthemurkcleared,Occamcouldseethatthedevastationhadknockedouttheswirlingtornadoofbrilliance.Atallfigurestalkedthroughthedestruction.Lithe,otherworldly, lethal. It appeared to be somekindof alien angel.Uncaring andmonstrously powerful. It had played its games, meddling in the affairs ofmortals,drawingsuperhumanrenegadesoftheAlphaLegiontodoitsbidding.Nowitseemedtohavegrowntiredofitsmanipulationsandwishedonlytoendthe cold beauty of its masquerade. It desired obliteration for all that it hadcreated.Occamheardthebarkofboltgunsinthedriftingdust.TheAlphaLegionwerebringing destruction to the xenosmonstrosity that had fooled them.The thingthat had pretended to be their galactic prince, their warlord, their genic sire.Missiles rocketed out from cover while the thick beams of lascannons cutthroughtheobscurity.Boltgunsflashedinaclosingcordon.

‘End it, brothers,’ Occam ordered, getting back to his feet, drawing his boltpistolandaddinghisfurytotheonslaught.‘Wearefirstamongequals.Wearethelastthingourfoeswillsee.Wearethecureforthegalaxy’smanyills.Sendthisthingbacktooblivion.Itthinksthatitisagod,butthebloodoftheone,trueGodruns throughourveins.Let itnot failus in the faceofenemiesunnaturalandancient.Forwewereengineeredtobringdeathtosuchmonsters.’Thestargodstrodethroughthemurkandhavoc–impassiveanduntouched.Itnarroweditsalieneyesattheoncominghailofbolt-rounds,blinkingthemintoflaring trails of obliteration before they reached the alabaster brilliance of itsunflesh.Abouttheabomination,realityseemedtowarpandwrinkle.Itsnarledatlegionnairesshootingfromcover,turningthegroundbeneaththerenegadesandthe shattered sections of stone they hid behind into liquid unreality. Asdemolishedbuildingsand toppledcolumnssankintothestonefloor,legionnairesflailed and splashed below the surface. The star god walked on through thedesolation, allowing the ground to solidify once more about the trappedrenegades.Waving the perfection of its alien claws at oncoming grenades itmade themdetonateharmlesslyintheair.Fatbeamsofenergyfromlascannonsthreatenedtocutthecreatureintwo,butitphasedinandoutofreality,passingoutoftheirpath, allowing themon through the dust-laden air.Missiles surged away fromheavyweapons legionnairessteppingout fromcover.Holding itspalmflatoutbefore it, the star god arrested the progress of the missiles and forced theweapons back towards their launchers. Detonating as they re-entered theirweapons,themissilesblewthelegionnaireswhohadfiredthemtopieces.Reachingoutwith its claws andgrasping for open space, the star god seizedAlphaLegionnairesfromwheretheyweretakingcoverandreloading.Snatchingthemonebyone, thecreatureused itsbrutalpowersof telekinesis todrag therenegades through the air towards itself. Some smashed through the derelictstructureswithabloodysplatter.Otherswerethrownintoeachotheratsickeningspeed,theirbrokenarmouredformsthenflungaway.A stamp of the star god’s foot on the ground sent a ripple through reality,knockingtheclosingattackersoutofcover.Withasearinggazeofannihilation,theDeceiverturnedlegionnaireafterlegionnairetocloudsofashthattoreawayto join the risingmaelstrom that encircled thepyramid.Whatever theblindingbrilliance of the creature’s eyes fell upon died. Nothing could stop it. Thewhirling stormof shattered stone and dust became stainedwith blood and theghostlystreamofsoulsuponwhichthestargodgorged.

‘SigmaSophistra,’ Occam called across the vox as the legionnaires fightingbelowdiedintheirdroves.‘Fireagain.Everythingonourposition.’Thestargodhadnotforgottenaboutthevesselstationedabovethem.Whileahurricaneof shatteredblack stone,green crackling energies anddust encircledthe colossal pyramid, it began to rain within the deathly calm at the storm’scentre.AllOccam could hear across the vox-channelwere the screams of theafflicted.Heduckeddownasherealisedwhatitwas.ThealienabominationhadfixeditsgazeupontheSigmaSophistra.Inthereality-bendingsightsofthestargodthevesselwasmelting,turningrapidlyintoadelugeofliquidmetalfallingfromtheskyandhammeringOccamtohisknees.Everythingwasunfoldingobliteration.Aboutthestargodandthepyramidtheunnatural storm raged. Beyond, enormous cracks felt their way through thecityscape.Buildingscollapsedandmonolithstoppledinvaultingcloudsofdust.Theplanetarycore, suspendedfaraboveOccam’shead,was losingstability. Itragedandspat,while its wobblingrotation torewithgravitational insistenceatthe hollow planet. Sections of surface began to fall through, creating colossalholes and tears inRoyalBelphagar. The towering pylons on the surfaceweretoppling over and smashing, and those surrounding the opening chasms werefallingthroughtheopenings.Occam felt quakes through the pyramid superstructure. The star god hadfollowedhim.ThestrikemasterfellbackonthecrumblingstepsandpeeredupthroughthelastdrizzleoftheSigmaSophistra.Thestargodstoodabovehim,itsfacea sneeringmaskofabsolute supremacy.Beingsoclose to the thingmadeOccam’s plate vibrate, his blood course and bones burn. He felt the absoluteemptiness of the thing, its hunger for souls and the elemental untruth of itsexistence.Deceiver.Ithaddeceivedthemall.Occam’smindracedwiththebeing’sinsatiableneed.Hefeltthelast,darkdaysof thegalaxycometopass.Pylonserectedeverywhere:bringingthenullifyingdeadness of the Galactic Core, like a growing blot, to all corners of theImperium.Thewarpanditspollutedriftspaceofragingstormsvanquished.Thefragmentation of humanity – a single, vast empire plunged once more intoisolated civilisations, eachone cut off anddestroyedby theDeceiver.Billionsupon billions, human and alien alike, marched into the soul forges of theabomination.With theirpassing, thestarsof thegalaxywereextinguishedoneafteranotherbythegluttonousstargod.Then,nothing.Anobliteratedabsence–forthethingcouldnotdenyitseternaldesires.ThesorcererQuodahadbeenexperiencingmuchthesameandthrewhimselfat

thestargod.Thecreaturereactedwithrevulsionatthepsyker’sfuriousapproachand with a cruel splaying of a clawed hand, sent the sorcerer bouncing backacrossthestonestepsoftheblackpyramid.Occamyankedfuriouslyonthetriggerofhispistol,blastingboltafterboltupinto the thing. With every impact, the Deceiver changed. At once it was aghostlyapparitionallowingtheshelltorocketstraightthrough.Thenitbecamethe black stone of its surroundings, a bolt ricocheting off its solid surface. Asudden silvery liquid of its form swallowed the next bolt while the returningbrilliance of its perfect skin slowed another and another to spinning shells infrontofthestargod,whichitflickedawaywithcontempt.Everythingwas theswirlingboomofdestruction,butabout theDeceiverandOccamwasonlyclosingdarkness.Occamknewhewasabouttodie.Snatchinghislastmeltabombfromhisbeltheprimeditwithaclunk.Thestargodopenedits claw and the grenade flew from the strike master’s gauntlets into thecreature’senclosedfist.AsthegrenadedetonatedtheDeceiver’shandglowed.Itgrew bright and then molten, streaming to the floor. Then it became a smallinferno, a raging flame that swirled, resettled and resolidified into a cool,clenchedfistoncemore.Occamwatched as the star god flinched. Several balls of plasma splattered,crackledandburnedagainstthealabasterperfectionofitschest.OccamlookedupthestepstoseethatVilniusMalikhadreturned.Hewasblastinghisplasmagun at the abomination in an attempt to save his fallen strike master. TheDeceiverhissedanagelesshatredat the legionnaire, turninghim intosmokingshadowsmearedupthesteps.The legionnairehadnotbeenalone,however.Hehadfreed theWordBearersandsomehowconvincedthemthatafargreaterthreatlayoutsidetheirshipthantheAlphaLegion.Outofthedarkness,thestuffofnightmaresragedforth.TheVargaRax,ledbyIaxorPhelandCaptainVhorpall,hadregainedsomeoftheirdaemonicmonstrosity.No longer thewastedspecimens theyhadbeenon theirjourneyacrossthenullifiedspacesurroundingtheGalacticCore, thedaemonicWordBearersoftheVargaRaxwereblessedoncemorewithincrediblestrength.OccamcouldonlyreasonthatwithpylonscollapsingacrossthesurfaceofRoyalBelphagar,bothQuodaand theWordBearerswereregainingsomerevitalisingconnectionwiththewarp.Havingseen the ineffectualnatureofboltgunsupon thestargod, they rushedthemonstrous creature with cursed blades and possessedweaponry. Stormingthe entity, theWord Bearers – red of warpedmuscle and plate – were like a

swarmofattackdogs.ThestargodtoweredovertheTraitorSpaceMarines,thesame look of revulsion on its terrible face as it had reserved for the sorcererQuoda.AsthemeleeswirledaboutOccam,itwasallthestrikemastercoulddotobackupthestepsandfeverishlyreloadhispistol.Heheardahorrificshriek,asoundthatcausedhisearstobleedwithinhishelm.Itwasthesoundofagodinagony.The Deceiver had knocked aside warped blades with telekinetic force andmeltedweaponrywithaflashofitseyes.ButrushedbysomanyWordBearers,ithadnotbeenabletostopPhel’sdaemonswordGorghastragargettingthrough.The blade opened the creature up across its thigh and the blinding light of athousand suns blazed through from the gash. Even the filters cycling throughOccam’sopticscouldn’tshieldhimfromthelight.Thestargodshriekeditsalienrage,recognisingthewarp-channellingweaponas a real danger to itself. Silhouetted against its own brilliance, the creature’svengeancewas swift and terrible.Knocking aside the vicious thrusts ofWordBearersweaponryandtheslashofdaemonclaws,thestargodlaiditsnullifyingclawonthecursedplateofthedaemonWordBearers.Theceramiteturnedwhitehottothetouch,eachsuitturningintoaragingfurnaceofpurifyingflame.TheVargaRaxdiedoneafteranother,spontaneouslycombustingandroastingintheflamesoftheirownnullification.Avenging his brethren, Captain Vhorpall slashed a monstrous talon at thecreature’s face.The star goddrewback andglareddownonVhorpallwith itseyesalight.Thecaptainmelted,drizzlingawayinacloudofliquidceramiteandblood.‘Die, unnatural thing!’ First Acolyte Phel roared, holding his daemon swordabovehisheadwith twohands.The stargod reachedoutwithaperfectwhiteclawandlaidituponPhel’srune-encrustedbreastplate.Secondslater,therewasnothing left of theWordBearer. Phel had simply exploded, his suit turned toshrapnelandhisgrotesquehalf-daemonbodyblazingawaytonothinginabrief,blindingflash.As thedaemonswordclattered to thesteps, themonstrousaliencontinued itsrampage.Occamstilllaybeforeit.Hegrabbedsomethingfromhisbelt.Thestargod suddenly stopped and the strike master’s head was filled with theexcruciating sound of alien agony. The Deceiver stumbled. A blade wasprotrudingfromitsmidriff.ThedaemonbladeGorghastragar.Quodahadpickedupthepossessedweaponandplungeditintothestargod’sback.ThedaemonwrithedacrosstheperfectfleshoftheDeceiver,attemptingtofind

some spiritual purchase but failing. The touch of the infernal beast was ananathematothestargodandforamomentthepairragedateachother.Unable to seize upon a soul that simply wasn’t present, Gorghastragar wasforced to return to the cursed blade. The star god shrieked its pain and fury,causingthebladetomeltanddribbledownitsbrilliantwhiteflesh.Turningwithsavagespeed,theentitydidn’tevenbothervisitingitsreality-bendingpowersonthesorcerer.Itplungedaclawthroughthelegionnaire’sbreastplateandtorehisheartsfromhischest.As the dead sorcerer’s body collapsed and tumbled down the steps of thepyramid, the star god turnedback toOccam.The strikemasterwasuponhisfeet.‘Ihavesomething foryou,entity,’ thestrikemaster said.Hepulledanobjectfromhisbeltand threw itat thestargod.TheDeceivercaught the thing in itsclaw,believingtheobjecttobeanothermeltabomb.Whenthedevicefailedtogooff, the creatureopened its claw. Inside sat theTesseraqt,primed,opening,blazingwiththegreenlightofinterdimensionalincarceration.An ageless snarlwrinkled the horrid perfection of the star god’s face beforebeing lost in theblazeof green light.Alien energies crackled and spat, arcingbetween the pyramid and theDeceiver, the sky and the storm. These grew tohorrific intensity,as thoughthestargodwasfighting its imprisonment.Occamstumbledback,holdingagauntletupbeforehisoptics.A moment later, the star god was gone. The black cube containing itsincarceratedformcrackledwithspiderygreenpoweranddroppedtotheground.Itbounceddownthestepsuntilitstoppedatthefootofafigureadvancingupthepyramid. The strike master realised that the hunched silhouette belonged toOmizharVohk.ThealienmachinepickeduptheTesseraqtwithametalclawandapproachedOccam.‘Youexceededmyexpectations,strikemaster,’Vohktoldhim,themetallichissofhisvoiceladenwithanaliensatisfaction.‘Iwouldbesorryforthedeceptionstowhichyouhavebeensubjectedandthelossofyourlegionarykindredbutforthefact thateverythingweachievedheretodaywasabsolutelynecessary.Thatentitywas aweapon that turned itself againstmy people. Itwould eventuallyhavedonetosametoyours.Itslieswouldhavedestroyedusall.’‘Andyet,itknewagreatdealofthemanIseek,’Occamsaid.‘Your galactic prince?’ Omizhar Vohk said. ‘Well, indeed. Are not the mosteffectivelieslacedwithsomeelementoftruth?’‘Yes,’Occamsaidandcompleted loadinghisboltpistol.Raising it,hecoldly

puttworoundsthroughthemetalskullofthealientechno-sorcerer.LikeQuodabeforehim,OmizharVohkfellbackandbegantoclatterdownthesteepstepsofthepyramid.PickingupthealienTesseraqt,Occammadehiswayuptowardstheapexplazawhere theDissolutioPerpetua still remained in station.Boundingup the stepsandwith thehollowplanet fallingapart abouthim, the strikemasteropenedavox-channelwiththebridge.‘Fire up the sub-light engines,’ he ordered the commanddeck cultists.As hereachedthetopofthepyramid,hesteppedthroughtheairlockandintotheship.‘Reverse thrust.Back thewaywecame.There isonlydeath tobe foundhere.Eventheworldisdying.Ihavenointentionofbeingburiedhereamongstthesetombs.’

Withsatisfaction,OccamtheUntruenotedthespeedwithwhichhisorderwasobeyed.TheDissolutioPerpetuabeganbackingtowardsthegreatopeningintheplanetarycrust.ThestrikemasterwatchedRoyalBelphagartearitselfapartfromthe inside.Fromthebridgeof theWordBearersvessel,heobserved theship’spassagethroughtheplanet’ssurfaceandoutabovetheancientworldofshatteredpylons. The Dissolutio Perpetua was barely clear by the time the planetcollapsedinonitsunstablecore.‘Course,master?’ one of the cultists asked from the depths of its hood. Thestrikemasterdidn’thaveananswer.Heknewnotwherehewasgoingorevenwhathewasgoingtodowhenhegotthere.HeheldupthealienTesseraqt.Allheknewwas that theblackcube inhishandand theabominableentitywithinheldsuchanswers.

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

RobSandersistheauthorofTheSerpentBeneath,anovellathatappearedintheNewYorkTimesbestsellingHorusHeresyanthologyThePrimarchs.

HisotherBlackLibrarycreditsincludetheTheBeastArisesnovelsPredator,PreyandShadowofUllanor,theWarhammer40,000titles

AdeptusMechanicus:Skitarius,Tech-Priest,LegionoftheDamned,AtlasInfernalandRedemptionCorps,andtheaudiodramaThePathForsaken.HehasalsowrittentheWarhammerArchaonduology,EverchosenandLord

ofChaosalongwithmanyshortstoriesforTheHorusHeresyandWarhammer40,000.HelivesinthecityofLincoln,UK.

AnextractfromShroudofNight.

Thewarpchurned.Itragedandroiled.Stormsofwrath tore throughtatteredveilsoffateandfalsehood,splitting theskinof reality.Etherealabominationshowled theirhunger to thevoid, twiningtheir kaleidoscopic tendrils between the stars.Real spacemet the immateriumalong interstitial fault lines,convulsingwithaviolence that shattered timeandsetreasonablazefromoneendofthegalaxytotheother.Somewhereamidst themadnesshungaworld.Above it, inorbit,a fleet.Thespacecraft were ornate, buttressed gothic monsters whose hulls flowed andtwistedinshapesbothelegantandhideous.Oneamongstthemwaslargerthantherest,agrotesqueryofburnishedgoldandfleshypurple.UponitsflanksthebattleshipborethetalonedwingoftheEmperor’sChildren.Belowtheemblemwasaname.HeraldofPain.

On the warship’s twisted bridge, its master of auguries knelt in supplicationbeforehislord.Hehadbeenbornefromthechamberofsilveredmirrorsuponanornatewalking-carriage,butthoughslavesandchampionsalikehadclearedhispathwiththeireyesdowncast,stillhefeltonlyfear.Oneamongstthecovenofscryersurgeonshadhadtoconveynewsofthebattleupontheplanetbelow.Thatunpleasantdutyhadfallentohim.‘The auguries in flesh were clear, my lord.We saw through the lens of thescreamingveilallthattranspiredbelow.Theyarealldead.’Themaster of augurieswas a hunched creature, swathed in perfumed robes,bent double beneath the weight of the metal fetishes that pierced his flesh.Before the unwavering gaze of his masked and armoured lord, the lumpencreaturecoweredlowerstill.Whenhespoke,LordExcrucias theFlawless’voiceslitheredfromthe lipsofhisgildedmaskinasilkenwhisper.Stillitcarriedtothefurthestcornersofthe

cavernousbridge.‘If our enemies are slain, thenwhy do you grovel so?Was it an…untidy…victory?’Excrucias’ thoughts turnedtohisgoldenflensingkniveswitha tingleofanticipation.Theywouldhavedelightfulworktodo,ifhisservantshadmadeahashofhiselegantbattleplans.‘No,mylord.’‘Thenwhat?’hissedExcrucias.‘Reticenceisaflaw.’Themasterofauguriesflinched.Hegatheredhimselfbeforereplying.‘Mylord.Someofourenemieswereslain.Notall. It isourwarriorswho liedead.’Silence fell across the bridge of theHerald of Pain. Gold-armoured ChaosSpaceMarines stood statue-still, watching with avid excitement. Cultist crewandslave-mutantshaltedmid-sentence, leavingastrogationreadingsunfinishedand vox exchanges hanging. Even the captives locked within danglingexcruciation-cagesturnedtheirscreamstowhimpers.Onlythedistantrumbleofthe ship’s drives and the mindless binharic babble of servitors disturbed thequiet.‘Allofthem…?’askedExcrucias.‘Yes, lord,’ replied the master of auguries. The creature abased itself beforeExcrucias’livingthrone,veiledfacepressedtothedecking.‘How?’‘Theenemy,lord.Theyhadtraps.Defences.Theyfoughtlikedaemons.’‘Truly,’ whispered Excrucias. ‘You assured me that your scryer surgeonsdetectedbutthirty-onesoulsonthatworld.Idespatchedtwohundredwarriorstoeffecttheirsacrifice.TherewereTerminatorsamongstourranks.Thebattlewastolastseventeenminutesandthirty-twoseconds,nolonger.Instead,ithasbeenmorethananhoursinceIgavetheordertoattack.Andyousaythatthesethirty-oneenemies…slewthemall?’‘Yes,lord,’whimperedthemutant.‘Howmanyofthesemysteriousfoesdidwekillinreturn?’askedExcrucias.‘We believe…perhaps half…’Themaster of auguries’ voicewas littlemorethanacroak.‘Fascinating…’saidExcrucias,runninghistonguedelicatelyalongtheserratededge of his mask’s lips. His armour hummed as he rose from his squirmingthrone.Excrucias’sorcerer,PhelkorianTwyst,detachedhimselffromtheshadowofthethrone and lumbered in his wake. Phelkorian’s body was encased in a gem-

encrustedsuitofpowerarmour,butthecowlofhisrubberisedcloakdidlittletohide the bloated mass of tentacles and fangs that was his face. Gasping wet,eagerbreaths,thesorcererjoinedhismasteratthemarblerailingofExcrucias’commanddais.Before them, looming large in thebridge’sprimaryvid-screen,wastheplanetofBloodforge.‘It looks like ablindedeye,’pantedPhelkorian fromhis lamprey-likemouth.‘As though our divinemistress slipped a needle into one of the BloodGod’svacantorbs.’Excruciasletslipamurmurofagreement,staringintentlyattheplanetbelow.Two hundred, slain by just thirty-one. He should feel anger, he supposed.Instead, he was fascinated. Oh, his knives would taste blood, of course,pleasurableofferingscutfromhislivingfleshandgiventoSlaaneshtoatoneforthisfailure.Butstill,anopportunitypresenteditself.‘Preparetheteleportarium,’orderedExcrucias.Oneofhisattendantchampionsslammedafisttohisbreastplateinsalute.‘I shall bear your orders, my lord,’ he barked eagerly. ‘I beg the honour ofleadingthenextattackformyselfandmyKakophanarii.’Excruciasgaveaslightshakeofhishead.‘No,Gaiuss.Igoalone.’‘Mylord?’saidPhelkorian,tentaclessquirminginagitation.‘Isthatadvisable?Whoever theyare, theycutdownLukianandhisWrithe-kin likedogs.Not tomention that we are deepwithin the Eye. Teleportation has its risks. Pridefulvictoryisanactofworship,butarrogance…’‘…isaflaw,’finishedExcrucias.‘Iknow.Preparetheteleportarium.’The slighted champion saluted oncemore and strode away.Excrucias placedonefleshmetalpalmuponthepommelofhissword.Hecaressed theweapon’shilt,andtheentitywithinitcroonedsoftly.‘Ensurethatthemagiarereadytoextractmeatamoment’snotice,Phelkorian,’hesaid.‘Ofcourse,my lord,’ replied thesorcerer. ‘AndIshallgathermymagicks, incasetheyarerequired,’headdedwithrelish.‘Asyouwill,’murmuredExcrucias,beforegesturingtothemasterofaugurieswhostillgrovelledbeforehisthrone.‘Asforthat,itisflawed.I’venofurtheruseforit.’Themasterofauguriesletoutapiteouswailandscrambledtohisfeet,butwithasorcerousgesture,Phelkorianfrozehiminplace.Excruciasstrodefromthebridge,leavinghissorcererleeringdelightedlyover

theweepingmutant.

Excrucias’ senses sang as an empyric tempest raged around him. Hisconsciousnessexpandedwhilerealitywheeleddizzyingly.Forasplitsecondhefeltthefeather-lighttouchofquestingtendrilsandrakingclawsuponhisflesh,hismind,hissoul.Then,withanear-splittingcrack,herematerialiseduponthesurface of Bloodforge. Kaleidoscopic lightning danced around the Chaos lordbeforeflickeringawayintonothingness.Excrucias stood in a place of deep and profound silence, amidst thetumbledownruinsofwhatlookedtohaveoncebeenamightyfortress.Theskyabove was the colour of cataracts, streaked by wisps of blood-hued cloud. Asallow breeze hissed fitfully through hollow archways and over crumbledramparts,rattlinggritagainsthisarmourplates.Thequietwassepulchral.Slowly and deliberately Excrucias took in his surroundings, leaving hisweapons sheathed. He had teleported down close to his warriors’ initial dropcoordinates,andhadaclearviewofthedevastationtheyhadtriggered.Rubbleand corpses were scattered on every side, littering an area cratered andblackenedbytheaftermathofmultipledetonations.Thebodiesworethepurpleandgoldpower armourofEmperor’sChildren, or else the tattered remainsofSlaaneshicultrobesandmasks.Dozenshaddiedhere.Excruciastastedtracesoffisiliteandmagnitoriandet-chemsupontheair,alongwithburnedbloodandthedust of shrapnel-torn stone. His unnaturally sharp senses suggested that hiswarriorshad teleporteddirectly into themidstof aminefieldconstructed fromshort-fused demolisher shells. The size of the craters and the condition of thecorpsesreinforcedhissupposition.Throughmagic,or technology,or someothermeans,his enemieshadknownprecisely where his warriors would deploy, and had managed to salvage theordnancefortheirtrap,insuchableakanddesolateplace.Intriguing.Excrucias set off through the bolt-cratered ruins, following a trail of hiswarriors’sprawledbodies.Some,henoted,hadbeenriddledwithshellsorhadtheir armour rent open by detonations. Others lay with neat holes punchedthroughtheeye-piecesoftheirhelmswheresniperroundshadfoundtheirmark.Hetastedahotchpotchofpropellantsandalchemicaltracesupontheair,somesostrangethatevenhecouldn’tplacetheirorigin.Cultistssprawledinbloodyheaps,blade-slainortornopenlikefleshyflowers.Sections of stonework and pillars were deformed and blown apart by sonic

bombardmentwherehisfollowersappearedtohavefiredwideoftheirmarks.Whoevertheenemywere,theyhadchannelledhisforcesintokillingzonesincourtyardsandalleyways.Booby trapshadbroughtdownhighstone ramparts,crushing the faithful of Slaanesh. In one broad and lonely square, Excruciasfoundadeeppit,whichhadevidentlybeenconcealedinsomefashionuntiltheTerminatorsoftheWrithe-kinstrodeacrossit.Theircorpseslayatthebottom,half-dissolvedbyacidicoozethatstillbubbledandpoppedasitateawayatceramiteandflesh.Excrucias moved cautiously, straining his keen senses for threats, but at thesame timehefelthis fascinationandexcitementgrow.Thisenemyhadpickedaparthiswarriorswithefficiencyandinvention.Yetstillhedidn’tseeasingleslain foe.Perhapshalf, themasterofaugurieshadclaimed.Where, then,werethebodies?Hereand there,Excruciasnoted scuffmarks andblood trails, tell-talesuggestionsthatpower-armouredcorpseshadbeenhastilyremoved.‘Yourverysecrecygivesyouaway,’hemurmured.‘Notentirely,’cameavoicetoExcrucias’left.‘No,’cameanotherfromhisright.‘I’dsayitkeptushiddenjustlongenough.Wouldn’tyou,brothers?’‘Yes,’ came a third, rumbling voice to Excrucias’ rear. The Slaaneshi lordstoppeddead,givingaslightsighasmultiple lockwarningschimedinhisear.Carefullyhelookedleftandright,seeingbulky,armouredfiguresslippingfromtheshadowswiththeirgunspointedathim.Astheyadvanced,theysweptasidethecameleolinecloaksthathadconcealedthem,andExcruciassawmetallicbluearmourthatconfirmedhissuspicions.AlphaLegion.ThewarriorsnowflankingExcruciaswereunhelmed,andtheirfacialfeatureswere remarkablyalike.Bothpossessedhigh,noblebrows, strong jaws, shavedscalpsandquick,sharpeyes.Onehadslit-likepupilsofdeepjadegreen,whiletheother’s armourwas festoonedwithwhat appeared tobe the salvaged toolsfromaTechmarine’sservoharness.Thewargearofbothwarriorswaswornandbattered,theirarmourapatchworkofscavengedandrepaintedplates.Excrucias’ownarmourshonebycomparison.Hewasagodagainsttheseraggedghosts.Andyettheyhadconfoundedevenhisexceptionalsensesandsurroundedhim.Itwasanimpressivedisplay.He hissed as he felt the muzzle of some large firearm thump him none toogentlyintheback.‘Don’ttryanythingclever,’camethatthirdvoicefrombehind.‘Thesearen’tthe

onlygunstrainedonyou.’‘It’dbeashametospoilallthatprettygoldarmour,’saidtheonewiththetools,disdainfully.‘Exceptthatuglydamnmask.Youcankeepthat.’‘Kassarwantstotalktoyou,’saidtheAlphaLegionnairewiththesnake’seyes.‘Andwhois…Kassar?’askedExcrucias,earninghimselfanothershovefromthegunmuzzleathisback.‘He’s someone who wants to talk to you,’ said its owner. ‘As we said. So,move.Forwardupthatalley,andkeepyourhandswherewecanseethem.Youdon’twanttotryforyourweapons.Really.’Despitehispredicament,Excruciaswascalm.He feltno indignationatbeingspokentoinsuchafashion,regardlessthatnolivingthinghaddaredtodosoinmany longcenturies.He feltonlyagrowingcertainty thathis suspicionswerecorrect.

Excrucias wasmarched at gunpoint through the ruins to a partially collapsedmausoleum, and ushered through its tumbled entrance into a chamber lit byflickering lamps. Kassar awaited him, leant casually against an ancient tombfashionedfromsomesquamousblacksubstance.Hisfacialfeaturesechoedthoseofhisbrothers,saveforalong,tightscarthatranuponecheekandoverhisrighteye. A short-shaved mohawk clung to his scalp, but he bore no otherdistinguishing features of rank or seniority. Despite this, Excrucias sensedKassar’s quiet authority at once.Here,without a doubt,was the leader of thisstrangewarband.Excrucias’guardsmotionedhimtostandbeforetheirleader.Thethreeofthem,including thebigbrutewhoseheavybolterhadnudgedExcrucias in theback,spreadoutandkepttheirweaponstrainedonhim.Kassarwasrunningaclothalongtheblackbladeofanornatesword,andashesettheweaponasideExcrucias’eyeswidenedinrecognition.ThereactionwasnotlostonKassar,whoobservedhisguestwithhoodedeyes.‘Youknowthissword?’heasked.‘It… belonged to one of my most… accomplished champions,’ hissedExcrucias.‘Sethriel.Severalcenturiesago.’Kassargaveagruntofacknowledgement.‘I remember him,’ he said. ‘I remember all the warriors I’ve killed, but hestandsout.Goodfighter,swiftasair,gavemethisscar.Possessed?’‘NotSethriel,’saidExcruciassoftly.Hiseyesdriftedtotheblade.‘You’rewonderingwhy it hasn’t takenme theway it did him,’ saidKassar.

‘Thethingboundintothisblade.’‘TheHexling,’noddedExcrucias.‘Itisa…persuasive…entity.’‘It tried,’ said Kassar. ‘It failed. Is that why you’re here? Sethriel and hissword?’‘Sethrielandhiswarriorsare theoriginalreasonIcameto thisplace,’repliedExcrucias.Hewondered howmuch he should divulge; howmuch theymightalreadyknow.TheAlphaLegion,itwassaid,hadtheirways.‘DoyouknowthelegendofBloodforge?’heaskedinstead.TheAlphaLegionnairewiththetoolssnortedalaugh.‘Knowit,yourgoldengrace?We’vebeenlivingitformorethanthreehundredyears.’Kassarglancedathiswarrior,whoshrugged.‘Weknow it,’ saidKassar. ‘Twodaemonprinces, theButcher and theBlade.OneaWorldEater,oneaNightLord.Theirrivalryledthemtocreateaworldofeternalwar, thisworld, uponwhich they could finally settle their score.Onlytheirwarranoutofcontrol,feduponitself.Itdrewthechampionsofthegodslikefliestooffal.TheButcherandtheBladedrownedinthebloodyfloodtheyhad created, and still thewar raged on.An endless contestwhere the greatestservantsofChaoscouldprovetheirmight,honetheirskills.TheBloodforge.’‘Just so,’ said Excrucias. ‘Suchwas the legend that reachedme,many yearsago.WhenIdiscoveredthatBloodforgewasreal,IsentmyEternalstofindit.LedbySethriel,theyweretobattlehere,toearngloryandrewardfromSlaaneshsothat,whenIreturned,thosethatlivedwouldbeflawless,livingweapons.’‘Exceptwhenyouarrived,allyoufoundwasus.’Excruciasnoddedslowly.‘Onlyyou,fromaworldofchampions,ofperpetualwar.Whathappenedhere?’‘Wewon,’saidKassarsimply.‘Evidently,’saidExcrucias.‘Andwhoareyou,youvictorsoftheBloodforge?’‘WearetheUnsung,andweprevailed,aswealwaysprevail.Killedyourmen.Killedalltheothers.Notwithoutcost,but…’Kassarspreadhishands.‘Hereweare.’‘Here you are…’ echoed Excrucias. ‘Victorious but… still here, amidst therubble.Iwonderwhy…’Kassarsmiledwithouthumour.‘NeverasktheAlphaLegionaquestion,lesttheytellyouseventruthfullies,’he said. ‘Besides, except for coming down here alone, I’m sure you’re notstupid.Youknowwhy.’

‘You lack a ship,’ said Excrucias. ‘You sit trapped amidst the ruin of yourconquest,waitingtosufferthefinishingblowbythehandofthenextpowerfulenemythatcomesalong.Anenemylikeme.’‘There’smore to you than there seems,’ saidKassar. ‘Elaborate armour, golddaemonmask, impressiveblade,senseofpowercomingoffyouinwaves.Butyoucameherealone.Anerror.Youcouldhurtus,butI’veenoughbrothersleftthatwe’dkillyoubeforeyoufinishedthejob.’‘Howquicklydoyouthinkyoucouldlandtheblow?’askedExcrucias.‘Ihaveanentirefleetinorbit.Aword,andtheyteleportmeout…thenfireonmylastlocation.Thisentireregionwouldbenothingbutrad-firewithinmoments.’‘Hm,’gruntedKassar, seeming toponder thepoint. ‘I thoughtyoumight saysomethinglikethat.It’swhyIhadHaltheushereputtogetherateleportjammerbeforeyouarrived.’The tool-festoonedAlphaLegionnaire brandished a crude-looking device, allexposedwiresandruniccircuitry.‘Haven’t activated it yet,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It might not even work. Or itmight just scramble your teleport signal enough to deliver you to yourdestination insideout. I’ve told themmore thanonce that I’mnoTechmarine,but…’Heshrugged.‘An…impasse,then,’saidExcrucias,hisoutwardpoiseshowingnothingoftheexcitementhefeltwithin.Hehadn’tforeseentheteleportjammer,andthesensethathehadplacedhimselfinreal,mortaldangerwasexhilarating.‘Perhaps,’ said Kassar. ‘Perhaps not. You said that your warriors were theoriginal reason that you came to Bloodforge. Implying that something haschanged.Youknowwhatwewant,togetoffthisgods-blightedrockwhilesomeofusstilldrawbreath.Whataboutyou?’‘Icamehere in searchof livingweapons,’ saidExcrucias. ‘Flawlesskillers. Iam engaged in… an ongoing conflict. My… rivals have proven moreproblematic than Ihadhoped. I sought tobolstermy rankswithwarriorswhocould…concludemattersonmybehalf.’‘Butwekilledthem,’saidKassar.‘Butyoukilledthem,’echoedExcrucias.‘AndforthatinsultIshouldflayyouallalive.Butinstead,Iwishtoofferyouabargain.’‘Goon,’saidKassar.Aroundthechamber’sedge,hiswarriorshadbecomeverystill,watchingtheexchangewithintenseinterest.‘Youhavebutcheredaworldofwarriors,’saidExcrucias.‘Whatmoreperfectliving weapons could I hope to find than you? Perhaps you do not have the

magnificence,thesheermightthatmyEternalspossessed,butwhatIhaveseenheresuggeststhatyoumakeupforthislackin…murderousguile.Fightforme.Youhavewononewaralready.Nowhelpmetowinanother.’Kassar’sfacewasanunreadablemask.‘Andinreturn?’heasked.‘In return… a ship, a frigate frommy fleetwith a full and loyal crew,warpcapabilities,firepower.Freedom,todowithasyouwill.’Kassarnoddedslowly,thenmotionedforHaltheustolowerhisteleportjammer.‘Letmespeak tomybrothers,’hesaid. ‘You’ll remainhereas insurance, justlong enough for the Harrow to assemble and to vote. Then you’ll have youranswer.’Excrucias made a show of considering Kassar’s demands, then graciouslyacquiesced. Inside he already knew. He had been right. He had come toBloodforgeinsearchofflawless,livingweapons.And,bythegraceofSlaanesh,hehadfoundthem.Soonenough,theBeaconofTsadrekhawouldbehis…

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